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[ashes-writing-corner]

Iron God Chapter 47 [Ami]

"Hold your arms out." Ami demonstrated the position. "Now push against me."

    She pushed against Xigon's forearms. His elbows folded in easily.

    Ami sighed. Then she heard pages shuffling. Her eyes darted over to Magpie. "What are you reading, dear? Don't be getting distracted."

    Xigon looked over and, much to Ami's surprise, chuckled. "That section's hilarious."

    Magpie cocked her head. "I don't get it."

    "Here, bring it over." Xigon gestured to his lap. He turned his wheelchair slightly when Magpie gave him the book. "This is a collection of Kiiri's writings and illustrations. This section, to the untrained eye, doesn't make much sense, but once you know that Kiiri draws herself as a rabbit and me as a snake –" He pointed to an illustration of a laughing snake coiled up around a pouting rabbit's ears. "It becomes obvious that this whole segment is Kiiri complaining about me."

    Ami vaguely remembered Kiiri being one of the original Styzian order. She tried to follow the conversation. "And you're all right with that? A subordinate complaining about you?"

    "If they do it with spirit, from the heart – I actually love it." He sighed and smiled. "It shows a huge amount of strength in them, and it shows some level of comfort with me." He leaned back. "It means they're growing."

Magpie grabbed the book off his lap and wandered into the corner to keep reading. Ami snapped her fingers. "Magpie, bring me my tote, would you please?"

    Magpie reached over and picked up Ami's bag. But instead of bringing it over, she scrounged through it and pulled out an old needle.

    Ami raised her voice ever so slightly. "I told you to throw that out, dear."

    "Why?" Magpie turned the needle in her fingers. "Does Rizval have a disease?'

    Xigon's head snapped up. "Rizval? What were you doing with –?"

    "Only saving their life, you paranoid shit." Ami pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "You remind me of another terrible client. Magpie, I still need my tote."

    "Didn't some loud mouth once tell me to never bother someone who's reading?" Magpie stuck her nose back down into the book. "Oh, right. It was you."

    With a sigh, Ami went to fetch the tote herself. Before returning to Xigon's side, she snatched the old needle out of Magpie's hand.

    Xigon held his hand up. "Ami, what happened to Rizval?"

    "They got shot in a hunting accident." She repeated the lie Rizval had – for whatever reason – begged her to tell their masters. "They'll be all right, though. I made sure of it. In exchange, Channei agreed to let me see you."

    "Ami's the best healer," Magpie piped up. "The very best."

Ami chuckled. "Thanks." Then she dug through her bag to find a notebook and charcoal pencil. Inexplicable decline in upper limb strength, she wrote. Either that or the pt. is being characteristically uncooperative.

"I can see that, you know." Xigon sounded unamused.

"Wow, so can I." Ami scowled. "Quit reading over my shoulder or I'm confiscating your glasses."

"Hm." The man crossed his arms. "You know Qila won't be too happy to see you here either, right?"

    Ami smelled something odd. She leaned closer to Xigon and inhaled. "You're afraid of Qila."

    He flinched. "What?"

    "Plain to see and smell." She shrugged and wrote another note. Suspect ongoing violence. "Is she all right with the young ones, at least?"

    "She's excellent with them," he said, without hesitation.

    "That's good." Ami didn't look up. "And what about you?"

    He sighed. "It serves us better to cooperate than it does to fight."

    "That's very different from being friends." Ami maintained a level tone even though her skin prickled with unease. "In any case, I'll be having a chat with Qila soon enough."

    "What's it matter to you, anyhow?" Xigon practically snarled.

    "Poison isn't always material." She glanced over at Magpie, who was squinting hard at a page near the end of the book. "She and I know that quite well, unfortunately. Magpie, let's go see Qila."

    "I want to stay right here," said Magpie.

    "Alone with him?" Ami shook her head. "Absolutely not."

    Xigon raised an eyebrow.

    "I'm not scared of him," Magpie insisted.

    "And that's the issue." She shoved her notebook back in her tote. "That, and I'm quite frankly scared of Qila."

    Magpie giggled at that. "Big bad Ami, scared?" Then she got up and latched eagerly onto Ami's arm. "You're funny."

    Ami ruffled Magpie's half-black hair. "Xigon, I'll hopefully see you again soon. Assuming Qila doesn't make a tapestry of our skins."

    Xigon smirked. "That'd be an ugly tapestry if I ever saw one."

    Ami pretended not to hear him as she dragged his desk away from the door. Telling, she thought, that he would barricade his door to prevent his fellow master from seeing him in this state, when Qila of all people should have been the first to his aid. She decided not to comment. That was a conversation for later.

    "Which way to Qila's study?" she asked.

    "Upstairs," he told her.

    "Thanks." She made sure to close the door behind them. As they made their way down the hall, Magpie mimicked Xigon's voice, repeating random words he'd said over the past hour and laughing at herself. Ami was grateful for the noise, for once. Otherwise, the empty halls would have been far too quiet.

    She found Qila sitting at the top of the stairs, looking more than slightly displeased.

    Ami smiled and waved. "Good day, Master Qila."

    "How did you know we were here?" Magpie blurted.

    "A little bird called Channei let me know." The old woman crossed her arms. "That and you're not exactly quiet. In any case, you and I need to talk, Ami."

    Magpie turned and fidgeted. Ami took her by the hand before making her way up the stairs to meet Qila. "Sure thing, we can talk." Ami sniffed the air. "Seems you've got a good tea collection. May we have some?"

    "I need to talk to you." Qila jabbed a bony finger into Ami's upper arm. "Privately. Not with her." She scowled at Magpie, who seemed to be off in her own world, barely hanging onto Ami's hand.

    "Where I go, she goes." Ami squeezed Magpie's hand. "If she offends you, pretend she's not even there. Or give her something to play with and we'll be free to talk, and she'll occupy herself just fine."

    Magpie looked at Qila. "I'm part of her deal, you know."

    Ami and Qila made eye contact, both exasperated for entirely different reasons. As she and Magpie followed Qila to her study, Ami had to struggle not to laugh at the situation's absurdity. How was this perpetually tired old woman the same one who'd given them such terror on the mountain lift not too long ago?

    Qila held the door for them. Surprised but not ungrateful, Ami thanked her. Qila simply scoffed at the thanks before going to her wardrobe and producing a roughly-sewn and battered toy puppy. Without a word, she handed it to Magpie, who ran with it into the corner and fussed over it.

    Ami chuckled. Her eyes drifted to the half-open wardrobe, then back to the master. "Aren't you a bit old for toys?"

    "Yes, but some of the young ones weren't when we first got them." Qila shut the wardrobe and fetched the kettle from over the fireplace. She poured two cups, added some reddish powder to each, and set both on a small table. "Sit."

    Ami took the chair across from Qila. Its backrest was slightly crooked in a way that made any position uncomfortable. "You actually poured me a cup."

    Qila sipped her tea. "Courtesy."

    Ami took her cup. "You want something from me."

    "You catch on quick." The old woman rested one arm on the table. "Tell me what's happening with Xigon."

Ami swirled her drink. "I'm not sure yet." She sniffed the steaming liquid before taking a swallow. It tasted bittersweet, though far more bitter than sweet. "But I've only just started. With a complicated case it's good practice to consider every detail even remotely pertinent."

"Hm." Qila gave a short nod. "I can't help but wonder why Xigon would accept help from you, of all people, before coming to me."

"I was wondering the same exact thing. I think I've got a hint, however. " Ami crossed her legs. "You have an interesting choice of tea."

The old woman raised a finger. "Don't try and change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject." Ami sniffed her cup. "This tea's made from a dried powdered root that I actually use fairly often, and it makes a fine beverage when you blend it with sweeter things in the morning before a long day's work. It has a stimulant effect." She took a long sip and sighed. "Unfortunately, it can also mask the physical effects of inadequate pain relief. And it's a key component in the remedy you're giving Xigon."

    Qila raised an eyebrow. "What are you insinuating?"

"From your tone, you already know what I'm insinuating." Ami shifted in the chair that made her back ache. She caught a glimpse of Magpie in the corner, who was pulling at the toy dog's cloth ears. "Even if the onset of his illness seemed sudden, I doubt this came up overnight. I think between us, though, we'll come to an answer soon enough."   

"You're being awfully polite, given how you've acted before," Qila pointed out. "You want something from me. Out with it."

Ami stiffened. She opened her mouth to say something but forgot it immediately. She glanced over and saw Magpie was staring at her.

When she looked back at Qila, the old woman lost her shred of patience. "Well?"

"Well, I..." Ami scratched her cheek. It felt as if her flesh were writhing under her skin. "We need help I can't give."

Magpie came over and hugged Ami. Ami raised a trembling hand to ruffle her two-toned hair. Magpie's black was fading again. They'd have to dye it again soon, she thought. So much work to maintain their strange life, and yet...

Ami's stress melted in her odd companion's embrace. Magpie was special, someone worth keeping around no matter what. Even if she put bloody used needles in her mouth.

Qila cocked her head. "Who is she to you, Ami?"

"Even I'm not immune to picking up a cute little thing that needed help." Ami sighed and chuckled. "Now look at us."

[please]

Qila stood up. "Maybe we're not so different in that regard. Though I still wonder why Xigon was so insistent about Kolo. Suppose she's more than what she appears."

[look]

    Magpie bounced on her toes. "Can I see Kolo when she's back?"

    "She probably won't be back for quite a while." Ami shrugged. "Morning's pretty far away from here."

[closer]

[ashes-writing-corner]

Iron God Chapter 46 [Kolo]

CW: Graphic violence

Jai-Lag sniffed the ground, then the air. Pine needles crackled as she flexed her claws into them. Kolo put her hand on the sabretooth cat's back. Jai-Lag chuffed. A cold wind swept through the understory. Kolo's white hair blew back. She shivered.

Azvalath came up beside her. "You scared?"

"Of course not." She was only cold. Wasn't that obvious?

Aza stared ahead. "You should be."

That didn't make any sense, so she ignored him. When Jai-Lag picked up a scent and started walking again, Kolo put her hood up and followed without hesitation.

"My first hunt was with Master Xigon." He looked over his shoulder to make sure Dras and Wymer were still following them. Then he picked up his pace. "Our target was nothing short of nightmarish. I was afraid. I felt bad about it, too. I thought a strong warrior wasn't supposed to be afraid."

"Hm." Kolo tried not to even think about being afraid. It seemed about as safe to be afraid as it did to expose a wound to a hungry predator.

"What he taught me that day is what's won me many battles since then." Azvalath smacked his elbow against Kolo's torso.

She stared at him. It didn't hurt, thanks to the armor Rizval had made for her, but she still didn't like it.

"Master Xigon said that if determination is your weapon, fear is your armor." Azvalath tried to smile. "It takes both to see another day."

Dras tried to close the space between them. "Who's Master Xigon?"

Azvalath actually smiled at that. "Someone I'll be very happy to come home to this time around."

Dras squinted.

Wymer tapped him on the shoulder. "Mind your business, lad."

Jai-Lag halted. She sniffed the air and snarled.

"She won't go any farther." Azvalath stopped and stroked the cat. She kept snarling. "Now it begins."

"Right." Kolo extended four phantom arms, one for each of her companions. She grabbed each of them tight.

Dras shouted at her. "Ow! What are you doing?"

"Quiet!" She barked back at him. "I'm holding onto all of you now. I'll stay right here with Jai-Lag. You three move in the direction she's looking. Got it?"

Everyone nodded.

"If I see one of you acting strange and think you're hearing Slaaek, I'll give a command to be silent," Azvalath added. "He likely can't target more than one person at a time."

"What if he chooses you?" Wymer asked.

"That's where Dras comes in." Aza looked at the younger man. "He should be able to get me out of striking range without injury."

"In any case, I have all of you tethered," Kolo reminded them. "You shouldn't be able to wander close enough to him no matter what you see."

"Which means he'll eventually have to get up out of the ground and investigate." Wymer held out his axe. "Let's go."

Kolo stood steady and let the men move forward. Jai-Lag's head turned slightly to the right. Kolo used her ghostly hands to guide them in that direction. The air grew still. Her shivering stopped. The wood was silent.

Wymer led the group. He walked with the certainty of a man who'd spent his entire life in the forest. Kolo tightened her grip on him. He crouched down and brushed aside some of the pine needles. "There are bone shards here. We're close." He beckoned to Aza and Dras. "Here, come look."

The other two started walking right as Kolo caught the slightest glimpse of motion. She yanked all of their invisible tethers. "No! Stop!"

Slaaek's jaws shot out and snapped shut around Wymer.

The bite took his head and upper torso clean off in a fraction of a second.

Before she could register what had happened, she yanked back what was left of his body. His dismembered abdomen and limbs landed at her feet and then the horror of it hit her. Her head spun. She stumbled and her foot caught on bloody viscera. She fell to her knees, heaving and trying not to faint.

"Damn it, Kolo!" Azvalath screamed, sounding more panicked than she had ever heard him. "Pull it together or we'll all die!"

"I'm trying." Kolo looked back up. She took deep breaths and willed herself to block it all out long enough to see another day. If only wishing made things true.

Slaaek's head lifted up out of the forest floor. The holf licked his bloody lips and stood up. Pine needles and leaf litter fell off him.

She saw Azvalath yell something, but she didn't hear it. It seemed no one heard it.

No one ever seemed to hear her crying either. She was grateful for that.

"Why are you crying?"

Kolo spun around. An oddly familiar woman sat by a fireplace that hadn't been there before. She had white hair like Kolo, but was taller and looked much older. "Tell me who hurt you, Kolo."

Sudden pain shot through her upper chest. She looked down and saw the stab wound that had made her a Ferash Therall, blood seeping through her coat and soaking it deep red.

"You know the law, sweet thing." The woman took her hand. Kolo scowled. She'd held the village matriarch when she was just a baby. Now the woman was acting like Kolo was the baby. She hated it. She hated all of them.

"Anyone who hurts me must die." Of course, they meant it in the sense of hurting her body. Never her mind. Their gift from the Iron God, their so-called miracle, could rage all day and cry all night, but so much as a drop of blood and suddenly she was sacred again.

Kolo could only glare at the lightningfisher tooth dangling from a string around the matriarch's neck. Control the grinning demon, and one could control the whole village. But she didn't want to control them, no – she wanted more.

A tea kettle whistled. Somewhere outside, a small child cried.

Then she remembered Magpie making that same sound. That strange warning. It made so much sense now. She had to go out and investigate, to silence this threat. She had to –

No. NO!

Kolo smacked her hands together right in front of her face. All of them, physical and immaterial. Her ears exploded and the shockwave blasted her backwards. She narrowly avoided hitting her head on a tree root. The ringing in her ears was so fierce that she couldn't hear anything else. Anything. Not even her own breathing.

She looked up and saw Azvalath. His mouth was moving but she couldn't hear him. One second he was there. Then Dras darted to take his place. Dras pushed him away. Azvalath's scream was silent. So was Kolo's.

Slaaek's bite was silent too.

Dras sped away in the blink of an eye. He stopped near Azvalath and then crumpled. His entire abdomen was gone. Slaaek gulped down the organs he'd torn out, then lunged at Dras's eviscerated form for another bite.

Kolo could only pray that Dras was already dead before the next snap took his arm and shoulder and half his upper chest off.

Azvalath sat there in utter shock. What the hell had he been yelling about? Pull it together or we'll all die. Now he was eating his words. So was she.

Kolo screamed at the top of her lungs. That, too, was muted. Slaaek turned toward her.

She didn't hear his song. She didn't fall for his tricks. Instead, she gathered all her power into one fist and charged. She saw the holf's savage teeth rushing toward her and shut her eyes in case she didn't make it.

Her fist connected with the roof of his mouth. Bone shattered. Blood poured. She wondered if Slaaek loved the taste of his own blood as much as the blood of his prey.

He recoiled from the blow and fell, spewing red from his mouth and nostrils. How ironic, that defeat and victory tasted the same. Like fresh hot blood.

Azvalath was still frozen up in shock. His body shuddered. Blood trickled from his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue when Dras knocked him back. And Dras...

Kolo fell to her knees next to Azvalath. He grabbed her and they both crumpled onto the blood-splashed forest floor. She clung to him just as fiercely. Her face was wet and raw from tears. So was his.

She buried her face in his coat. This was what it meant to be a Ferash Therall, wasn't it? Kolo almost wished she had died that day, when her monster had finally caught up to her. She wished she'd never come to know the human behind the mask or the nightmare he called a life.

Azvalath hugged her. His body shook with sobs. Kolo understood now that he'd likely been holding those tears back for a very long time. Maybe he was afraid it could have been her eviscerated body in the holf's mouth. Maybe he thought this was his fault. He'd probably hoped to bring Dras home with them as a Ferash Therall.

Admittedly, Kolo had hoped for that too. Now there was barely anything left of his body. Not even Xigon could have repaired the damage. What would he and Qila say about all of this?

All those thoughts hurt. She didn't want to hurt anymore.

At some point, Jai-Lag came and curled around them. Then it hurt a little less.

[ashes-writing-corner]

Well I was not expecting to update today guys but here we are! A more Ellen centered chapter for this one with the beginning of a confrontation. Will it be another fight, or are these two gonna finally actually talk to each other? Well...find out soon!

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard , @xenoanamorph , @hoeia-strigoi , @arwenkenobi48 , @xanth420 , @serpentdeath , @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, @emimuart, @fern-and-bone, and @enchantedchocolatebars

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, as always let me know via comment or DM! without further ado:

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 9

I’m not your problem anymore. So who am I offending now?

It would take some time for Ellen to recover some of her energy back. For a time, the world around her felt a bit duller, less colorful, not that there was much to begin with. But even so, things just felt more…oppressive. Like something was wrong, something was broken.

Orlok had mentioned that this was a place of memories. But Ellen also wondered if this too was a place of thoughts, of feelings. Did their surroundings reflect how they felt too? It seemed that way. Ellen got up one morning, at least she thought it was morning, to try exploring the castle some more. Furie, as usual, was by her side. She still felt like a name change for the wolfhound was in order, so she personally took to calling him Ehre, Honor in her mother tongue.

She needed to know what the vampire was so desperate to hide from her. She needed to know why he abandoned her when she needed him. Maybe it was selfish to ask, selfish to know, but it wasn’t fair. Ellen had loved him, in her own way, the only way she knew how. And he had returned that by leaving her alone until she met Thomas.

Then it seemed he only came back to cause problems for them…

Thomas…she hadn’t thought of him since the night of the Shade’s attack. She wondered how he was, what he was doing. Was he okay? Did he miss her? Did he mourn her still? So many questions and yet…no answers to be found. At least not here.

She wondered if there was a way to see him again, to go back to the living world and just…just check on him. Make sure he was okay. There had to be a way. Ghosts and spirits existed, and if this was an afterlife, there had to be a way to escape it, or at least somewhat escape it. Even temporarily.

Ellen was beginning to have her doubts. Maybe she saved the people of her home, saved the world perhaps, but she felt like she did wrong by Thomas. She left him alone, with only memories which could inevitably fade, fragile as memories were. She doubted he’d ever forget the sight of her lying dead with Orlok atop of her though. Ellen knew that would haunt him forever. The guilt he felt would be everlasting, even if it wasn’t his fault.

It was her choice, her decision. But was it the right one? Was saving the world, appealing to her own nature, worth harming the man she loved? Ellen didn’t, couldn’t possibly, know.

Looking around certain rooms and halls, she found things left over from their life together. In her wardrobe were clothes she wore, including her wedding dress and veil. On the bedside table, she found her wedding ring. Her eyes softened at the sight of it, guilt rising in her throat like bile. Ellen gently picked it up, like it was the most precious thing to her. She thanked the higher powers Orlok didn’t seem to know it was there, given his…attitude about her marriage and all things related to it. He would definitely try to destroy it.

Ellen felt the urge to put it back on, just to remember what it felt like. Slowly, she started to slide it on…

“Ah!” she hissed as she felt a burning sensation as the metal touched her finger. In her palm it was fine, but to put it on her finger hurt like nothing before, even though it left no mark.

At her feet, Ehre growled softly. It was like he knew what she was trying to do and didn’t approve. Ellen was not Thomas’ wife anymore. She hadn’t been since he signed that accursed document…

Ellen almost forgot about that. The thought that Orlok would manipulate Thomas to do such a thing angered and upset her. If he had cared about her at all, he would’ve just stayed away. It wasn’t like he cared anymore after he abandoned her. He came back just to torment her…

“Remember how once we were…” he dared to remind her that night, “Remember…just a moment..”.

Oh the thought of that made her blood boil with anger. How dare he try to remind her? How dare he try to stake a claim when he gave her up, and didn’t so much as bother to give her an explanation?! Something he still refused her now! Ellen hated thinking like a child, but it wasn’t fair. She deserved to know what she did wrong. What she did to deserve his abandonment and later torture. He mentioned it wasn’t her fault, but really wasn’t it? What else was she supposed to believe?!

“You don’t hurt someone you love…” he also admitted.

He loved her. At least once he did. Now Ellen wasn’t so sure of his feelings. No doubt Orlok held anger towards her for how their story ended. She had tried to comfort him in those last moments as best she could. She didn’t want him to suffer completely. All he did after all was the same as her: Adhere to his nature.

And one did not blame the wolf for hunting the deer. The wolf did what it needed to do to survive, same as any other living creature. She couldn’t fault him for that, as it wasn’t right.

He admitted his anger was his greatest fault. But what was he angry about? Again, was it something she did? Or did it have to do with something beyond her? Something from before her…

“Mirela…” she said the name aloud, the name from the crypt.

Slowly, Ellen was gathering the pieces. Like a jagged edged, messed up puzzle she was trying to piece it all together. That was the hard part. Without the missing details, the pieces were difficult to put together in one way or another. Did Mirela betray him and he thought she did the same? Did he hate her now, and had projected that hatred on to Ellen, only to leave her when he realized what he was doing? He didn’t seem to care about morals back then, but it seemed he cared about her. He cared enough to realize and stop.

But that didn’t answer her exactly: What inspired his ire so greatly that he felt the need to take it out on her?

Ellen took a breath, set her ring in a drawer and left to find him. She needed answers, and only he had them. And she wasn’t about to leave him alone until he did this time. She needed to know him. Who he was before all of this. Who Mirela was. Who was this woman who inspired his anger and what did she do to him?

Ehre followed behind her, ever her faithful companion, sniffing out his master for her to find. He was in the study, reading some old tome or other. Ellen stood silently in the doorway, watching him. Orlok appeared to be deep in concentration, his two other hounds sleeping peacefully at his feet. She stood tall, and with determination in her voice dared to ask:

“Who was Mirela?”

Orlok turned to her, a brow cocked with a hint of anger in his eye. “Don’t…speak…her…name”.

Ellen didn’t back down. “Who…was…Mirela?”

He stood. “You’re playing with fire, Micul Suflet…”.

“I need to know. Please…I need to know. Because I can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep doing this”.

“Doing what?”

She tilted her head with an expression that said that he knew what she was talking about. “You keep avoiding my questions, or worse lashing out at me. We chose this. We both did, whether we knew it or not. I don’t want to spend my afterlife avoiding stepping on glass around you. This isn't right. It’s not fair for either of us. You don’t trust me and I don’t understand why you don’t”.

The vampire seemed to be taking her words into consideration. He looked thoughtful. If she could just push a little bit more.

“I don’t want this for us. I want us to be honest with each other. If I can’t know anyone else, I want to at least know you. Please…trust me. Tell me the truth: Who was Mirela, and what did she do to you?”

Well I hope you guys liked this! Hopefully this is the start of an understanding between these two...or it could just be another fight? What'll it be? Well, find out in the next chapter ^-^ if you enjoyed please consider commenting, liking and reblogging. You guys are amazing! Thank you so, so much for your support!

[ashes-writing-corner]

Me: sees how many followers I have (69)

My brain: ash...you're ace. You're not supposed to think like that.

Me: .....

My brain: .....

Me: :-3

My brain: -.-

Me: .....noice!

Seriously thank you all for the follows! I'm so happy so many people love my stuff ^^ yall are wonderful! ^-^

[ashes-writing-corner]

Well nevermind I guess I'm updating today yall XD

This is probably my shortest chapter to date but it's like really important and I kinda wanted to be it's own thing. I hope you guys don't mind lore dumps here but...wanted to give some insight to Orlok's backstory here. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, @emimuart, and @fern-and-bone

If you wanna be added to the taglist let me know! Enjoy!!!! ^-^

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 8

I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending…

He came so close, so close. Too close. Too close to spilling everything. It was so tempting, so damn tempting. But Orlok couldn’t let himself be tempted. He couldn’t let himself face everything. It was pain that led him to this. He would not let that pain infect her too, anymore than it already did.

His pain started all of this. His grief…

No. No it wasn’t his pain. It wasn’t his grief. It was his ambition. Then it was his grief. Then it was pain. An all consuming pain that he couldn’t dare speak of…

He had tried so hard. So hard to defy his own nature, his own being for his beloved Mirela. He loved her, loved her more than power, more than anything in all the worlds. His first true, real love. She loved him as well, but fearing for his well being, she only agreed to marry him if he gave up his sorcerer’s ways.

So he did.

For a time, anyway.

But nobody could defy their nature. Not him, not anyone. Mirela, his sweet, adoring Mirela, fell ill after giving him his greatest treasure: their child, a little girl Ileana. As hard as he tried to defy his nature, to escape his fate, It came back with a fearsome vengeance. Fate, God, whatever the higher powers who cursed him so, denied him his happiness, his future.

Mirela passed of her fever, and Ileana shortly after. Liev Orlok died with them, as he lost himself once more in his drive to find a spell to bring back his lost family. But no spell could resurrect the dead, at least not as they were. No Solomonari could bring the dead back to life. Despite everything, countless nights spent searching and going half mad with exhaustion and pain, all that he was was lost to him forever.

He had loved, and love only brought pain with it. He couldn’t save them. He had no right to mourn them. The rest of his days were spent in cruelty, returning to his previous dark ways in full force in an attempt to drown out that ever so present ache. He left Mirela and Ileana in the past, where they belonged. From their deaths to his own years later, he was only the Count, the Demon…nothing more. Nothing less.

But he couldn’t find his rest or reprieve even in death. His wicked ways, his power preserved what was left of him, and once again he was cursed by whatever higher, or perhaps lower, powers there were. Damned to walk the night eternally, to never see or even hear his loved ones again. It was less than what he felt he deserved but it was punishment enough.

And perhaps that’s what this place was. A place of punishment. A place to be reminded of all that he lost. It made sense, too much sense really. Hell? It may as well be at this point.

Orlok stopped in front of a door, one he never wanted to open again, to a room he never wanted to set foot into again. He was alone, the hounds were still with Ellen. His long fingered hand briskly touched the knob and then pulled back.

No…not today. Not this time. He couldn’t.

The vampire turned away from the door only to stop dead when he heard the soft cries of a baby inside. He knew those cries, reminding him of the fleeting time he had with his daughter. How he had tried to keep her alive and failed. The nights spent with her, trying to keep her little body warm as she suffered from illness. Her short little life had been nothing but pain, and he could do nothing to stop it, to take that pain away. All he could do was endure it with her, hoping his presence offered some sort of cursed comfort to his baby daughter. She passed early in the morning before sunrise, before he woke. He was in the room, but had left her alone. More or less, Ileana had died alone because of him.

Orlok shuddered, visibly shaken. It took a lot to unnerve him. As a solomonari, he had seen, heard of, and done things that would make many brave ones falter. But the voice of his late wife, the cries of his daughter…that was what struck him most.

The constant reminder of his failure was what unnerved him most. The little stuffed bear sat by the door when he looked again, as if attempting to entice him inside. It was slumped innocently, sadly, on the floor. He hadn’t placed it there…at least not that he remembered. Orlok growled at the thing, Not trusting it to be something real, though he’d held it many a time in those moments of weakness.

His daughter’s cries grew louder and the Count tore himself away from the door. He would not falter today.

Not today. Not ever if he could help it.

He was a monster. Monsters, he reminded himself, were not entitled to grief. Pain was their due, and it would suffice him as it had for centuries. It was bitter but it was the least he deserved. He kept walking away, the cries becoming distant in his ears until finally he was far enough away they couldn’t reach him. He breathed hard, closing his eyes tightly. Orlok felt a sharp, tight pain in his chest, and when he looked again, the little stuffed bear was in one of the chairs by the fire, still slumped over, sad and innocent.

“Îmi pare atât de rău iubiera mea…”

Short but kinda heavy! Hope you guys liked. If you enjoy this please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. If you wanna see more of my work please follow ^-^ thank you soooooo much guys ^^

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Working on the newest chapter of Exile! There's gonna be a huge lore dump with lots of angst, a very Orlok centered chapter! Really can't wait for you guys to read it ^^

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So question yall!

Dynamic us probably about to change in Exile, should I make a new cover collage for it? ^^

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Damn this is my longest chapter to date yall! Things are gonna start looking up a little for these two after this. I really hope you all enjoy it!

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, and @emimuart

Without further ado:

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 7

Second, third, and hundredth chances, balancing on breaking branches. Those eyes add insult to injury…

She woke briefly, her head against something solid, strong. There was a faint, faint sound in her ear. It was like a watch wrapped in a thick covering. Her arms and shoulders were covered, as the wind pushed against her. Ellen looked up to see Orlok, keeping a hold of her as they rode back together. He looked…different in a way.

More alive, more…wholesome even. Did she do that? Did her blood do that? He had more color to his skin, and Ellen swore she saw a little more hair on his head. He looked down at her, and his eyes had gone from their moonlit shade to an almost storm cloud gray. Ellen looked into those eyes for all of a moment, and she saw a flash of concern in them before again, she slipped back into the darkness of her mind…

He rode faster back to the castle, the cold hitting him harder than he remembered. He was actually feeling it. For the first time in centuries, he felt it in his fingers. What in the world had his little Sylph done to him? One drink of her blood had affected him in a way Orlok couldn’t explain.

His hands had lost their pale, deathly pallor. He now had a soft slight color to them…like he was alive once again. It wasn’t a feeling he was sure he liked, given the circumstances of their being here. He felt stronger, but at the same time he felt human and he couldn’t stand that. Orlok didn’t want to be anything resembling human.

Resembling weakness.

He rode with Ellen back to the castle and carried her inside, the wolfhounds following close behind. They were all worried about her, and about how this revelation of her blood would affect their master. He was of course both concerned and curious, wondering if this strange Other World was giving them qualities of one another. A little of herself in him and a little of himself in her.

“How quaint…” the count thought, laying her down in bed.

Furie joined her on the bed, curling up next to her, while his siblings laid on either side on the floor. Sure they’d keep watch over her, but Orlok had no desire to leave Ellen’s side just yet. He wanted to make sure she was completely okay, as using power like that had the potential to leave the user with effects similar to an overdose. Yes, it was possible to overdose or overuse magic. It was a tricky thing, even in this world. But from what Orlok was beginning to understand was that, at least here in the Other World, there was no such thing as light or dark magic.

It was about intention. It was what one wanted to do with their magic that ultimately determined its power and price. Again, a quaint little thing. In the living world, there was magic of varying types, though generally falling into the light or the dark. Looking at his hand once more, he was beginning to lose feeling in it again. The price was paid, he didn’t need her blood anymore, so the effect was wearing off.

Orlok looked at Ellen as she rested, noting her color had returned to her when once she was pale. This more or less confirmed his theory. They seemed to draw power from each other now more acutely than they did in life. No light, no dark, only intention and an equal price to pay.

“Of all the oddities…we have become a part of each other” he thought aloud, still looking at her.

It was how he felt she was in danger, why he felt compelled to come to her aid despite his anger. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a will of his own, he did. He was still upset about her finding out about Mirela. He knew she would have questions, and Orlok wasn’t sure he was willing to answer those questions just yet.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to face it just yet.

There was so much to do…so much to figure out. He didn’t want to focus on the past right now. He didn’t want to think of who he was, what he had lost. Durere raised his head, as if sensing his master’s inner emotions. The wolfhound got up and went towards the door, most likely going to grab something that would only deepen it. He had a nasty habit of that.

Not this time.

“Durere! Sedere!” Orlok commanded and the wolfhound stopped, turning to face him.

The two locked eyes as if challenging the other. Durere would try, but Orlok always came out on top whenever he was aware of his tricks. During moments of awareness. He was master right now…

The wolfhound’s ears flattened and he practically crawled back towards his master. Durere put his head under his extended hand. For now, the wolfhound conceded defeat.

“Why…why do you call them those things?” Ellen’s voice cut through his thoughts and Orlok turned to her.

“You’re awake” he noted.

She nodded weakly. “Barely…I think”.

“You’re weak from how much I took from you. You need to-”.

“Why did you name them that way?” she asked, ignoring his concerns.

“Ellen…Micul Suflet…They’re just names” he told her.

“No, no…something tells me it’s more than-”.

“You need to rest. I took too much from you. You’re thinking of things that aren’t important”.

“Stop…Orlok…please stop. Stop hiding. Talk to me. Trust me”.

“It isn’t a matter of trust, little one. You are not thinking with a clear mind”.

“No, I am. If they are truly just names, why are you so defensive about them? Would you prefer to talk about what I saw? What I found down there? Who was she? Who was Mirela?” Ellen sat up.

She wasn’t trying to be forceful, but she knew something was going on here. Something she had an idea of but it was just that: An idea. Only he knew the truth. Ellen needed to know what was going on. What was this place? Why were they here? What were those things that attacked her back there?

Orlok growled but Ellen put her hand in his. “Please…I have questions and I think only you know the answers. If I’m never going to know anyone or anything else, I want to know you at least”.

He looked at their hands, now loosely entwined, and Orlok felt his heart lurch. It didn’t feel right, keeping things from her. For all they were to each other, for all they went through. But the Count had no desire to burden her, even if she was volunteering to take on said burden. Ellen looked at him with those soft eyes, those eyes that were among the last things he ever saw in the world of the living. Eyes he both loved and hated. Adored and despised…

“Please…you didn’t hide from me before. Don’t hide now” Ellen pleaded.

How tempting she was…How he wanted so badly to tell her everything. But again, not wanting to let himself be vulnerable, Orlok kept his guard up, pulling his hand away from her sharper than he intended.

“When you’re better rested we’ll talk” he told her, “Starting with why you were down there”.

“Are you then to reprimand me?! Like I’m some child?!” Ellen demanded.

The count snarled and turned to her again. “I just saved your soul! Do NOT make me regret it, little Sylph. I came when you needed me…Like those hounds you have at your feet! And this is how you repay me?! By questioning me?! By claiming to not know me?!”.

“I don’t know you! Not how…how I’d like to…”.

For a moment, Orlok was stunned into silence. She wanted to know him, despite everything he did. She wanted to know him fully, truly. For all of a moment, he was touched in a way that he hadn’t been in a long time. But once again, pride won out.

“You know only what you need to know. Nothing more”.

Ellen frowned. “You don’t trust me”.

“It is not a matter of trust, as I said-”.

“It is. We won’t last, not like this. If we’re to make it through this somehow, if we’re to co-exist, we need to trust each other. You know everything there is to know about me! But you can’t grant me the same courtesy?! Why? What are you afraid of?!”

“I fear nothing!”

“Then prove it!”

Orlok snarled. “I’ve proven myself more than enough, have I not?”.

“Please…” she got up and came right to him, taking his face in her hands, “Please, trust me. We need to trust each other. It’s the only way. We won’t make it otherwise…” Ellen looked up at him, “You trusted me once. You loved me once. What has changed? Tell me”.

He hesitated. “This world is…different. A place made up of memories, or at least, fragments of memories”.

“Memories?” Ellen cocked her head curiously.

“Haven’t you noticed? There are things around here that once were yours, and others that once were mine. Fragments and pieces of who we once were, all now merged into one place”.

“So this isn’t the afterlife?”.

“It isn’t THE afterlife in the way humans think. We were not human when we died. Their afterlife isn’t ours”.

“So then it’s an afterlife then? One designed specifically for us?”

“Our own creation. An amalgamation of all we have ever been, whether together or not”.

“Pieces of our lives all together in one place. But why?”.

“Some things we hold on to far too tightly we carry them in death. They follow us into this world. It’s how it is created. For example, your wedding bouquet is downstairs on my dining room table. I’ve tried to burn it countless times. And it keeps…coming…back” Orlok growled, saying it through gritted teeth.

“Wait it’s downstairs? My actual-”

“Yes”.

“And you’ve tried to destroy it?!”

“Also yes”.

Ellen glared. “Seriously?! Why?!”

“Because I don’t want any trace of your marriage to that useless mouse anywhere near me!”

“He wasn’t a mouse, he loved me! Thomas LOVED me!”

Orlok growled and shook his head. “You may think he did, and perhaps to an extent it’s true. But he didn’t love you the way you wanted. The way you needed, Micul Suflet…”

He leaned in closer, their heads almost touching. Ellen felt his long fingered hand caress her cheek. The texture was rough, but not in a painful way. Rather in a way that just simply made her senses writhe beneath the surface, like a ball of unsettled serpents. Despite that, Ellen couldn’t help but lean into his touch, cool and oddly comforting. It felt like he was touching not her face but her very soul, as though he could sink his claws in and rake them down the very fabric of her being.

But he didn’t.

No. That wasn’t who he was with her. Not with her. Ellen knew that. His claws didn’t even break skin. In fact, they never did. Sure she had a few scratch marks after their otherworldly encounters, but he never made her bleed until the last. For a moment, she remembered that. He never, ever made her bleed.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t hurt her. He was always a bit of a rough lover. He always was. Even more so just before…

“You abandoned me” Ellen said feeling his lips come closer to hers, “Why did you abandon me? I needed you and you-”.

Orlok cut her off with a passionate kiss, not wanting to focus on that right now. So many questions his little sylph had…none of which he wanted to answer at the moment. All he wanted was for her to rest and leave his own troubles to him. No matter what, he would not burden her. His pain was not hers to bear…

He released her, leaving Ellen soft, like she was floating back into Chaos. Her mind clouded a little and all she could think of was him. His eyes on hers, his hands on her. Ellen gently ran her hands down on his chest, feeling the ever so faint beat of his heart where once there wasn’t even a single one. How maddening was it that he was more alive in death than he was in life, at least when she knew him?

“I’m sorry…I did this to you. I turned you into this…this thing” she told him, her eyes sad.

“No, No it wasn’t all you-”.

“You said so yourself. I was your affliction…and it appears I still am. I always will be…” she slid her hands away from him and turned away, “Perhaps that’s why you left me…”.

“No…No little sylph. That wasn’t-”.

“Then why?” She asked, “You could’ve stolen me away any time. Anytime after my papa died and you…you didn’t. You let me marry Thomas”.

A flash of hurt reflected in his eyes at that. It was true, he could’ve had her years ago, and avoided all of this mess. He could’ve had her repledge her vow at any point after her father’s passing. But he didn’t. He knew why…And he was surprised she didn’t realize why.

He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to admit it out loud…but for her sake, he had to….

“I am what I am. And you could not love me for all I was, nor was I willing to curse you like I was. My anger was my greatest fault, and you were falling victim to it as well. You don’t hurt someone you love…”.

Ellen turned to face him again at that only to find he was gone, vanished as if he was never there. Left alone with the dogs and her thoughts, all Ellen could do was shake her head.

“Orlok…”

If you guys enjoyed this please like, comment, and reblog! Your support is very much appreciated!!!! Thank you all so very much! ^-^ if you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

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A large brown rat curls up in Orlok’s hand and falls asleep with a yawn. As he gently pets it, he finds himself humming a soft melody. He can’t remember where or when he first heard it. Perhaps it was an old folk song or a ballad from his youth. It feels strangely familiar, like a sound one vaguely recalls in a dream. Whatever its source, the music slowly begins to thaw the edges of his frozen heart. For the first time since he was raised from the dead, a smile finds its way to his mouth.

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Working on more of Exile. Prepare for yet another fight...dammit can these two get along already?! Fuck XD

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Hey guys!

Next chapter is probably gonna be a bit of a long wait, as on top of writing Exile, I'm also on the second draft of my original novel. I usually work on it during the weekdays and on Exile during the weekend. I appreciate your support and patience.

If anyone wants you can send asks about my work and I'll happily answer in the meantime ^^

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Well I was not expecting to update this early but here we are! ^^ the soundtrack did wonders yall! Please enjoy, cause I worked really hard on this one ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, and @emimuart

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know via comment or dm ^^ without further ado!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 6

I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy. Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me…

Never before had Ellen felt so cold. She didn’t think It was possible to be this cold. Furie sat faithfully by her, his senses all on high alert. They were surrounded by darkness, the trees towering above them menacingly, blocking the view of the already darkened sky. Not a star, or the moon, could be seen. Ellen looked around, feeling something was watching, following, waiting…

“It’s okay…we’ll find somewhere safe” she pet Furie’s head in an attempt to calm herself. But it was proving…difficult to say the least.

Ellen had no way of knowing where she was. There was no telling what lay in waiting in the inky blackness. Furie stopped, his ears perking and moving around like tiny satellites. He growled, making Ellen take pause.

“Furie? What is it?” she asked, but she could sense something was out there, and it wasn’t him. It wasn’t the Count.

No, the presence was one Ellen didn’t know. Had never felt or seen. Her heart slammed against her ribcage like a furious bird fighting for its freedom.. She looked out in the same direction as the wolfhound, who now stood on stiff leg with his neck fur raised on end. His head lowered and Furie snarled, showing off his glistening white fangs.

“Who’s out there?” Ellen demanded, “Show yourself…”.

A pause…

A heartbeat…two…three…

“Ellen? Sweetheart?”.

It couldn’t be…could it? It sounded like…Like Thomas? It sounded like him, felt like him. But he couldn’t possibly be…

Dead?

Ellen stopped staying by Furie, who peered into the darkness with rapt attention. His fangs were still bared, and a deep low growl came from his throat as he heard the voice. Ellen stepped forward, just a single step.

“Ellen? My love are you there?”

“Thomas?!” she called for him and took another step.

Furie nipped at her dress, as if trying to keep her from going too far. She looked at the hound, her eyes soft and relieved.

“It’s okay. It’s him. He’s here! He’s here for me!” Ellen told him.

The hound didn’t let go. He wouldn’t…

“Thomas! Come to me! Please…please I need-” she started but was cut off by Furie barking.

Out of the trees indeed did come what looked like an apparition. It looked like a shadow, the shadow of her Thomas. Ellen couldn’t see his features, it was too dark. But she knew his form, his shape.

“Thomas?” Ellen whimpered his name softly.

Slowly, other shadows began to appear. Shadows of people she knew. Thomas, Anna, Friedrich, their girls…her father…everyone…their voices all cut through the darkness, telling her to come, telling her it was safe, but she needed to come. They all resonated so loudly in her ears. They kept getting louder, and louder. Furie barked and snarled, snapping his jaws at the shadows that slowly drew in. Ellen covered her ears, her eyes burning with hot, frightened tears. One shade was easy to resist, to repel. But soon there were at least ten surrounding her, emerging from the darkness between the menacing trees.

Ellen shook her head. “No…No I won’t go! I won’t!” she yelled her hands burning despite the cold around her.

The heat seemed to spread from her hands, up her arms, and slowly to the rest of her. It was like a blast of sunlight after a long winter night. She screamed, the warmth intense as a silvery light shone through her and into the ground around her. Furie jumped away, barking in alarm as the light shone. The shadows dissipated for all of a moment, the forest around her turning bright for all of a second. Like a lighthouse beacon she shined, the light protecting her from the now multiplying shadows.

But darkness did what darkness did best: It snuffed out the light. The more shadows emerged, the dimmer the light she controlled became. Ellen had her power, she knew, but she didn’t know how to use it, or for how long she could use it without overdoing it. Even spirits had their limitations.

Ellen had no choice. The shadows, the Shades, threatened to swallow her and Furie whole. She needed him…

Her eyes clouded over, her mind slid against the Count’s, finding him again in that oh so familiar crossroads realm.

“Come to me…come…Come to Me…Distorted Angel…Groom of Night…Come to Me…”

Like the Shades, he too seemed to form from the shadows behind her, tall and as imposing as the forest around them. His moonlight eyes were hungry and angry. The two other hounds and a black horse emerged behind him. Ellen was left breathless, as never in that moment did he ever look so beautiful to her, bathed in the shadows he lorded himself over.

He hissed out a spell in Dacian, while his wolfhounds chased away the spirits. Their eyes and fangs glistened in the dark. Orlok’s long claws grew out and he ran, no, teleported in the shadows fearlessly. He was staglike in his speed, bringing the Shades to heal, snarling like the beast he was. Ellen never thought shadows could be fought, especially not by beings of shadow, but she had underestimated Orlok and his power.

He ruled these Shades.

The Shadows belonged to him…

“Apropoați-vă din nou de ea…luați din nou formele celor pe cari îi iubeste…si vă voi alunga pe toți în cele mai întunecate adâncimi!” She heard him roar in the darkness.

Ellen was left breathless again. Never had he looked so powerful. So…beautiful. Distorted angel indeed…

He roared as the Shades retreated, peering darkly at the pair. No easy meal was to be gotten this night. If given the chance, they would try again. Her light was easily snuffed out…too easily…

And Orlok knew this. The vampire breathed deeply, his breath sounding pained again. His throat burned, and he could feel that once familiar need. He thought he escaped it in death, but magic always came at a cost. Even magic as ancient as his…

He turned his moonlit eyes to Ellen, his expression a bit vague and hard to read. His breathing was labored, and he looked again like that loathesome beast she knew in life. His price for his power, at least in this instance, was the thirst. The horribly familiar need for blood…

Ellen felt like a cornered deer facing down a ravenous wolf. Her heart drummed with fear, her instinct screaming for her to run. But where in the world would she go? The shades were out there still, and they would not be denied a meal again. Orlok growled, his throat burning. Her blood sang to him, like a softly playing melody only he could hear from the depths of her heart. He took a step towards her, shaking, his eyes darkening.

His senses flooded. His vision blackened. His nose was overridden with the smell of her blood. Her heartbeat pounded in his ears, overriding anything else. The cold around him was numbing, as numbing as death. Overwhelmed, he fell to the snow covered ground, his throat burning still.

Ellen blinked at the count’s sudden fall, uncertain of what to make of it. She could leave him there. She had every right to leave him. He was a monster, a beast who only sought to destroy in life and in death. Where would he wind up though? In this strange afterlife, this Other World, what would he be doomed to? Would he become a Shade, or something far worse given his misdeeds?

The wolfhounds surrounded their fallen master, the black horse coming to her side as if to give her a choice to flee on his back. The dogs looked at her pleadingly, as if begging her not to leave him. She turned to the horse, but…she could not bring herself to mount the splendid ebony furred beast. Ellen closed her eyes tightly.

“Heaven help me…” she thought aloud.

The shades would be back. If he was still fallen by the time they did, Ellen knew she wouldn’t have enough power to fight them all off. Her hands clenched into fists as she made her choice…

Ellen turned back to the wolfhounds and the count. Kneeling in the snow, she knew she couldn’t lift him on to the horse, she’d need to find some way to get him up and get him on to ride back to the castle. But how?

She looked at her hand, her wrist, and an idea came to her. Oh this was going to hurt…but pain was something familiar when it came to him. Ellen moved Orlok’s head into her lap as she looked at the hounds.

“I’m hoping somehow he can smell me. I need to get him on the horse so we can get him home but I can't carry him” Ellen shuddered slightly as she put her wrist in front of the Count’s face, “Please…please let this work…”.

She knew what he needed, but could he take it like this was the question. Would he, given what happened the last time he fed from her? Ellen caressed his cheek softly with her free hand, tender and gentle. He looked oddly peaceful like this, head in her lap, his eyes closed as if merely asleep.

“I know you’re far away right now, but I need you to come back. Please come back…if for a moment. Please…”.

No answer, no movement from Orlok. Not even a sign there was something in that mind-

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt fangs at her wrist. His eyes opened as he fed ravenously. Orlok tasted the warm, sweet blood of her, slightly different from when she was alive. There was something in it now, more energizing. More…powerful. Addicting. He fed, the burning in his throat soothed. But still he kept her wrist to his mouth, still he craved more.

More…

More…..

Ellen hissed and whimpered in pain, catching his attention as his eyes peered up at her pained face. The sight of her large eyes, a mix of hurt and concern in them, compelled him to slow down. His mind was returning and he realized he was hurting her. Orlok slowed his feeding, lapping at the wound gently to soothe her pain, and only taking what he needed. Ellen looked down at him, her free hand still caressing his face tenderly as he fed from her. Their eyes met and it was again like meeting at the crossroads.

Slowly he let go, giving the wound one last lick to heal it, leaving only a minor scar. Their breaths mingled and Ellen lowered her head to his, their foreheads touching. Their heartbeats seemed to synchronize for all of a moment as the night began to give way around them…

Her vision blackened and Ellen felt herself fall. From there she knew nothing more…

If you guys enjoyed please consider liking, reblogging, and commenting! If you wanna see more please give me a follow! This is gonna be a long story so I hope you'll stick around for the long haul ^^ your support means the world to me! Don't forget to be awesome ^-^ <3

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So guess who got the Nosferatu soundtrack today and brought her CD player just to listen to it while working on the fic?!

That's right! This chick!

Next chapter should be posted this week guys! It's gonna be a good one ^-^ <3

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Welp! The people have spoken! I will begin work tomorrow on this next one ^^

Hey guys! So I need your help with something!

I have two different ideas for the next chapter of Exile, and I wanna know what you guys wanna read! Please feel free to vote and which ever one is the winner will be the one I choose!

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Hey guys! So I need your help with something!

I have two different ideas for the next chapter of Exile, and I wanna know what you guys wanna read! Please feel free to vote and which ever one is the winner will be the one I choose!

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Dang I'm like super motivated to write this cause yall are getting an update already! Thank you guys do much for all the love for this, it's so so appreciated! <3

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, and @arwenkenobi48

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

Chapter features Romanian as translated by Google. I am so sorry if it's not accurate! X.X

Without further ado!

Exile- A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 1

And it took you five whole minutes, to pack us up and leave me with it. Holding all this love out here in the hall…

It was light when she woke again, surrounded not by cold this time but rather comfort. Ellen’s feeling of painless nothingness was pretty much gone, leaving her feeling light and weightless. But there was oddly warmth, comfort, and softness. She rose and looked around, her senses coming to life again one by one. Ellen didn’t know this place and yet there was a strange sense of familiarity. The room was akin to a dream, or maybe something she had seen in one a long time ago. It inspired that weird, familiar feeling: a feeling that this had happened before. That she had been here before. 

There was the overall lack of color in the stone walled room. Everything looked so…dull and gray. The curtains surrounding the bed were a deep burgundy, but they were covered in a thick layer of dust…or at least Ellen thought was dust at first. When she touched the curtain, it was like touching winter’s first frost. That was definitely not dust…

She pulled her hand back, almost painfully. No, not pain. Not really. She was just surprised. Ellen knew she wasn’t supposed to feel anything. She was…

She couldn’t even bring herself to think it, let alone say it. Her memory was a bit fuzzy, like looking through a dusty window, but she remembered how everything felt. It was coming back, slowly but surely as she gained more awareness, as each of her senses came to life…or perhaps unlife was the better term. 

There was something warm at her feet, something soft. Something…breathing? What did anything here have any need for breath? How curious…

She was almost afraid to look, but was pleasantly surprised when she did. A large black dog laid at her feet, curled up as if attempting to keep them warm. He was shaggy, with long hair and a rather large yet strong body. The ears were triangular, relaxed in a sleeping state and yet so acutely aware. Curious and a little afraid, Ellen reached a hand out to touch the sleeping dog at her feet, moving a little so she could pet his fur. He wasn’t cold, unlike the rest of the room it seemed. It felt like he was…alive almost. She heard a soft ruff from the animal and pulled her hand away as he raised his head. Her eyes found the silver-gold orbs of the canine, and he let out a soft whine. 

“Hello there, beauty” Ellen reached her hand out again and petted the dog softly between his ears, “Were you with me this whole time?” she asked, as if he could answer. 

The dog wagged his tail, panting softly as if to tell her he did in fact stay with her. He was awfully calm and gentle for such a large animal. Ellen wasn’t used to dogs, though she had a few of them growing up. Felines were more of her interest, as she liked their independent nature. However, she wouldn’t deny that there was indeed a sort of charm to this dog in particular. 

“Such a good boy. Thank you” Ellen whispered softly as she petted his back and shoulders, “Now I just…need to figure out where I am”. 

She stretched a little and got up, finally pulling the frosted burgundy curtain aside to finally get a glimpse of the room. Just like the rest of the world, it was so…dreary. Everything seemed to be dipped in varying shades of blue and gray. But it seemed the room had everything Ellen needed: bed, wardrobe, a rather nice if antique vanity, a small bookcase full of various books, on top of which were, strangely, various tiny figurines and dolls from her childhood. Things Ellen thought she forgot a long, long time ago. Literally a lifetime ago in this case. 

“A place where things go when they’re forgotten, perhaps” Ellen wondered aloud as she stood from the bed, the dog following close behind her. 

She touched one of the figurines, a little fairy in a white dress with dark hair. Her father had gotten it for her, calling it a miniature version of her. Ellen remembered she had thought that humorous as a child, but now it seemed he hadn’t been completely wrong. To be honest, she didn’t know exactly what she was anymore, nor was she entirely sure it mattered now. 

Not now. Not that she was…

She still couldn’t bring herself to think it. Guilt fed like a ravenous beast in the back of her mind. She had left Thomas. She chose the monster who plagued her for her entire life over him. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. But at the same time, it had to be done. She had to do it, to end the beast’s reign of terror.

A harsh blast of cold pulled her from her gnawing guilt, her thoughts stopping for all of a moment, before she knew: She wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t just the dogs. Ellen held the figurine tightly in her hand, as though somehow it would protect her. It couldn’t be…could it? She watched him perish. 

Held him as he perished…

The memory of that last, final moment, that last breath ran through her mind. Ellen held him, trying to somehow convey thoughts of comfort and reassurance despite the pain he felt. 

“It’s okay…” she remembered thinking, “It’s okay…we’re together now…let go…let go…” She remembered thinking as the beast, the Count, bled out all over her and her bed.

Ellen blinked, her thoughts coming back to the present. She dared not turn around, the dog at her feet staying close by, but not as guarded. She closed her eyes tight, trying to think of something that didn’t scare her. There was no way he could be here…surely there wasn’t…

“You are…awake” his voice was an all too familiar sound, though it sounded different now. 

He sounded different. Gone was the deep wheezing caused by lungs that no longer functioned. The growl was still there but not as prominent. The accent was the same, and it was still slightly monotone…slightly. It wasn’t unpleasant, per se. Just…something Ellen wanted to leave behind her. But it seemed the higher powers, who or whatever they were, had some other ill plan for her and the Beast. 

“Get out…” Ellen said quietly, not even looking at him. 

She could feel his ice cold glare at her back. “You…do not…command me-”. 

“I said get out…now!” Ellen dared to cut him off with a harsher tone. 

She heard a growl, but didn’t dare turn around. She would not look at him, refused to face him. The large black dog laid quiet at her feet, ears flat, torn between two masters. Ellen shook her head, her eyes closed tight as if she were in some sort of nightmare. 

“Shall you deny me now?! After everything I’ve done?! After I pulled you from Chaos?! This is my repayment?!” the Beast demanded, “After what you did to me?!” 

“I had to do it. To save everyone…” she said, “You would’ve killed everyone! Everyone! And i was supposed to sit there idle and let you-”. 

“Ah still a neat little trick you do little one…You close off your mind and lies spew from your mouth like venom!” 

“I’m not lying!”

“About your intentions! You didn’t do what you did to save everyone. You joined with me because you wanted to”. 

“And once more you are a deceiver! If I have a serpent’s venom, then you speak with a serpent’s tongue!” . 

“And once more you deceive only yourself, suflet mic!”. 

Ellen shuddered at the nickname. “Don’t you ever call me that again! You lost the right to call me that years ago!”. 

Suflet mic…

It meant “Little Soul” in Romanian. He had once used it as a term of endearment for her, when they first found each other. He hadn’t called her that in years, not since he stopped coming to her after she married Thomas. 

A cold silence overtook the room. The air was icy with both his presence and her hatred. Ellen trembled from the sheer force of it. Her hands balled into fists, even around the little fairy figurine. 

“I said leave. You are not welcome in this space…you will NEVER be welcome in this space!” Ellen yelled, tempted to turn around and throw the figurine at him. However, she refrained…just barely. 

Without her permission, he couldn’t stay in her room, her space. This was hers and hers alone. It was one of the few rules of this place: Neither could enter the other’s space once it was established to them without consent. He stepped away from her, his footfall heavy. The Beast peered down at the black dog. 

“Furie, ține-o în siguranță…” He commanded as he left the room, compelled by this strange realm’s magic and rules. 

The dog, Furie apparently, barked in response. He would be her faithful guardian, not that there was much that could harm her here. But even so…the last thing he needed was Ellen finding her way back to the waters of Chaos. 

Away from Him…

And ultimately lost to time…

The thought disturbed Orlok in a way he had never known. To be dead was one thing, but to be lost and forgotten was a whole other fear. Chaos could take him if fate demanded, but he would not spend eternity where she wasn’t there. He told her Ever Eternally…and he meant it. She was his until Chaos decided to call for them both. If and when that ever happened…

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Knew I was gonna update some time this week! ^^ again sorry for the short chapter guys, between this and working on my novel, I'm also worrying about the political climate of my country. Yall are like the only things keeping me sane, thank you!

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Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 5

I think I've seen this film before…

Ellen walked with Furie around the cold, stark white grounds of the castle. While everything looked so beautiful, covered in glistening white, everything was so dead. Even the gardens had no life or beauty in them aside from a few hardy trees. Throughout all of this, Ellen couldn’t shake the strange feeling of familiarity. Again, it was like she’d been there before…somewhere at some time. It only served to increase her sadness as she surveyed her surroundings.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The castle was supposed to be home. It was supposed to be beautiful. And even though this was an afterlife, it was supposed to at least feel like there was some life here. Never before had Ellen felt a home was cold or darker than this. One would think, the Count had everything and yet…this was what he had.

“It’s like the whole land is…sad. Not dead necessarily but in a state of mourning. I wonder why. What happened here?” Ellen wondered aloud.

Furie lowered his head and flattened his ears. He let out a soft whine, as if in agreement. He knew what he had to do, what he had to show her, since his master wouldn’t do it. The wolfhound nuzzled her hand, getting Ellen’s attention.

“What is it, Furie? What’s wrong?” she asked.

The wolfhound padded off a moment, then turned to her, letting out a light woof. Ellen blinked in suspicion. The dog woofed again, and walked away. She followed, compelled by some unknown force. Something told her he had to show her something, something she needed to see.

Something the Demon was hiding from her…

He set the bear down, hearing something coming from outside. Voices. Their voices. Voices he once knew and loved. For once not the voices and screams of his victims, but voices of those he lost…those he loved.

“Liev…come…my love we’re waiting…we’re here…”.

He could hear her especially…the only voice he ever wanted to hear. Orlok’s eyes went moon like, silver in color as the voice consumed him. He stood, looking to the window. She was out there, somewhere waiting for him.

For the first time in centuries, he dared to utter her name: “Mirela…”

Furie had led her to another part of the castle grounds, close to the gates actually, to a long staircase that led underground. Ellen held her breath, feeling like…like she was meant to be here, meant to find this. Furie barked in the dark, his eyes shining as if to guide her. Ellen followed the hound as if in a trance. There was something down here, something she needed to find.

Her light footsteps echoed as she stepped down the stone steps, leading further down into the darkness. Soon, she found herself in what seemed to be a crypt. She recalled seeing the central sarcophagus in a dream. Ellen knew it was his. But that wasn’t what she needed to see. Furie barked, a little off her left.

She followed, curious and a little reverent. In her mind, Ellen silently prayed for the souls buried down here, left down here to be forgotten by the world. She approached a separate sarcophagus, Furie sitting by it. Ellen kneeled beside it and on the side was carved a name…

“Lady Mirela Orlok…” She read the name aloud, “Wife and Mother…”.

Ellen was shocked. The Demon…he was…married once. And this was-

A growl cut her thoughts off. A deep, angry, beast-like snarl. It wasn’t Furie, but it had the wolfhound standing on straight stiff legs, tail out and ears flat. Ellen backed away from the sarcophagus as a claw of shadow casted over it. She knew it was him…and he was NOT happy.

“What…do you think…you’re doing here?” Orlok snarled, his voice deeper and angrier than she ever heard it.

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to-”.

“Have you disturbed her rest?! Huh?! Is this what you and your useless mouse of a husband do?! Disturb graves?!”.

“What?! No! Furie led me down here! I wasn’t going to bother anyone!” Ellen yelled back.

“MINCINOS!” Orlok roared and grabbed Ellen by her neck, “You once again are false!”

Furie barked furiously and snapped his jaws, but his siblings emerged from either side of their master, growling deeply. A fight was absolutely about to break out. Ellen struggled to break out of his hold.

“Please…Please…I didn’t…didn’t disturb her. I’d…I’d never…” she choked as he gripped her neck tighter, “Please…”.

He eyed her and then the sarcophagus. Orlok couldn’t help but think of what she would think if she saw him now. She would fear him, hate him. Like everyone else did both in life and in death. Ellen…she looked just like her. Except the hair…his Mirela had hair like shining copper. The Count put her down with a hiss...

“Get…out” he told her.

“Orlok, I-”.

“Sylph! Are you deaf?! I said get out! LEAVE! Pleacă acum!” he roared and turned away from her.

Her eyes welled with tears and she didn’t need to be told again. Ellen shook her head and ran out of the crypt, her neck hurting from his grip. When finally she emerged outside, she realized she had a choice to make. Stay here and be miserable with a monster who seemed to hate her, or find some other part of this strange afterlife to go to…

Ellen looked at the gates, shaking. Steeling her resolve, she decided to take her chances out in this strange world. Anything was kinder than dealing with him. If Chaos called her, she would return.

And he wouldn’t pull her out this time…

She gripped her warm coat around herself tighter and made her way to the castle gates. She would not stay here, not another moment. Not with him. Ellen refused to spend her afterlife like this. It was bad enough dealing with him in life and now she had to deal with his temperamental nonsense in death? Bargain or no bargain, it wasn’t sustainable.

Furie emerged from the crypts, looking at her as she turned her back to go through the gates. He barked frantically, as if knowing what she was doing. Ellen turned to him, her eyes watery still. She couldn’t leave him here. She wanted to, this was his home, but what good was a home when its master was cruel?

“Would you like to come with me?” Ellen asked, her voice soft, “it’s okay if you don’t. But I can’t stay here another minute”.

Furie’s ears flattened and he whined softly, trying to get her to stay. He didn’t want her to go, but didn’t want to leave his home either. Torn between his comfort and his duty to protect her, the poor pup had no idea what to do. After a few long seconds, his duty won out. It was dangerous out there and she’d be alone without him. The wolfhound went to her side and nuzzled her hand.

Ellen smiled wearily and pet his head. “Good boy…He really did misname you”.

With that, they stepped out together, wondering what else this strange frozen land had for them. If there was something better out there…

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