Adramelech DeAliclaire

Name: Adramelech DeAliclaire
Age: Debated by historians.
Sex: Male
Race: Vampire
Occupation: Nobleman

What follows is a short tale of this controversial vampire.

Within the halls of Castle Black Marsh was a scene more horrid than any within the memory of this old fool. For the castle was littered with corpses of men and beast alike,  some had managed to prepare themselves for the unavoidable slaughter by grabbing swords, spears, axes and whatever else they had at hand. While others, such as the young blond haired boy whose entrails littered the bedroom he had been sleeping peacefully in, hadn’t had any warning at all. Yes, it was a grouse sight indeed.
Within the throne room sat a queen, whose heart had given out when she realized there was no possible way to avoid her fate. Her hand was clutching her heart, just above her bosom. Her husband, well…her husband was pinned to the wall behind the throne chair, a sword embedded within the center of his chest the only thing holding him up. Blood still dripped from the wound only to stain the stone beneath him.
Standing there over the huddled form of the prince in the corner was the culprit of this travesty. The man, if you could call him that, was one of such dread that the mere sight of him could make most priests question their own faith. He wore a simple tight fitting black leather full suit that conformed to his muscular frame. At his hip was a long black sheath that hung from his belt. In his right hand was a rather overall large long sword that looked as if even the strongest of fighters would have trouble wielding. His hair was long and raven-like as it covered his shoulders and his upper back. The expression upon his face was one of passiveness, his dark eyes surveying the scene before him. Droplets of blood still clung to his lip and he opened his mouth wide enough to let his tongue snake out from between his sharp canines, licking it up.
“Humph, perhaps I over did things a bit,” his deep rich musical tones rang out through the great hall as he started to re-sheath his sword.
“W…w..wh…why did you do this?” The boy managed to find the courage to speak up, perhaps due to the pain of loss, perhaps due to realizing that he really wasn’t going to make it out of this situation no matter what he did anyways. In any event, the man turned his gaze back to the young boy a sneer spreading across his face as if the question was such a silly one. He bent down onto one knee only and lowered his face towards the boy, looking him over as if inspecting him.
“Well, when I replied to my invitation from your illustrious father I specifically asked him to remove all mirrors for they greatly offend me. Yet he didn’t, so you see my dear highness, it truly is your late king’s fault.”
“I…I…hate you!” The young boy had balled his fists up and was staring at him with such fire in his eyes that even this monster was at a loss for words.
However such a thing was only temporary as he stood up and turned around. Without another word he started to walk away, back towards the great double doors that served as meager protection from intruders wishing to see the king. The boy stood up, grabbing a knife that one of the guests had used in vain to try to defend himself and to his credit he tossed it almost perfect at the back of this fiend. However, by the time the knife was to make contact the man had already dispersed into to many bats to count, and soon there were bats in the room. There was only a little boy crying over the corpses of his dead parents and harboring hatred within his heart.