---Deciet: Wishful Truth----

Around me there is the world, the entire existent of all there is.  But what defines existence?  What makes the world live?  What gives us purpose?  The answer is nothing, nothing at all.  There is no purpose.  My father taught me this.  I remember it so clearly.  His explanation of life.

"Remiel, my son.  These people.  This world.  They are not ment to exist.  They are merely puppets for those of us who can control them.  Look at the world for what it is my son.  Its nothing but ants waiting to be crushed"  My father had told me that time and time again, and as it was each time we were atop the castle looking down upon the village.  Back then I was a much younger man.  I was only twenty-four at that time.  I had long black hair, a pale face, and I was at the peak of my physical prowess.  My father he wanted so much for me to be the heartless count that he was. 

   My mother however had ruined his plans long ago.  He killed her right in front of my eyes.  He said it was to relinquish any human feelings I may have, and that it would help me embrace my anger and hatred, but my mother she had alway taught me the ways of honor an nobility.  As she once told me."  a man is no better than the ideals he lives for, and for the honorable man these convictions may never be broken lest the only puprose they live for die and they become nothing more than an empty being."  She told me that my father was one of these men, that he had in fact abondoned his honor for power.

He turned to me and gave me a smile.  "Son you are my blood and the only blood from which I shall never drink."  He told me this as if I should care.  I never chose the hand fate dealt me, and I swore to myself that I would change my fate.  But no man may avoid my fate.

One day the villagers had gathered in a mass outside my fathers fortress.  At the time there was no way I could understand what these people felt.  I did feel sorry for them though, but at this time I felt even deeper sympathy for her.  My father knew of my relationship with a young peasant woman but did not approve, in fact he thought it was just a show of my control over the people.  It was not though.  I loved the woman more than anything.  She thankfullyy was at the bakc of the mob that night.  My father actually lowered the drawbridge just to let the mob inside.  As the mob rushed in I pulled her away from them and brought her to my quarters.  That would be the most wonderful and last happy night of the rest of my condemned life.

My father spent that night rather gleefully; he took his time imprisoning and torturing the mob.  He would cut fingers, decapitate heads, vigorously whip them, all the while my father got some sort of sick sadistic pleasure out of it.  He would even bite into them on occasion just to taste there blood.

While he was doing this I was with my love.  She was so young and beautiful.  She was Victoria Dominic.  She was nineteen and had the most beautiful dark red hair, her eyes a rose red.  She was to put it simply the most beautiful thing on this earth, and that night though I know I shouldn't have I put my lips against hers and began to kiss her.  she smelled of roses.  Soon my lips made there way down to her neck.  My emotions were going crazy.  I felt the strongest feeling of lust; I could smell the blood coursing through her veins.  my fangs extended from my mouth and Iwas ready to bite into her.  I pulled my self back.  I couldn't do that to her.  I couldn't condemn her to this fate.  That night we decided to run off to a place far away, somewhere that my father could never find us.