I wrote this while listening to “Sweet Tunes from Hell” by Jangli Jaggas. I just felt compelled to write it while listening to this piece. The tune kinda reminds me of a decent into....no, rather....a fall from grace.....or a fall from harsh “light” and into sweet “darkness.” It’s still unfinished, so you’ll have to excuse any sudden switches that occur here and there :)

Sweet Tunes from Hell

Prologue

Adrian looked about himself in wonder. What was this strange feeling? Everything was so sharply in focus it hurt his eyes. He winced slightly from the pain. Why was everything so bright? He shielded his eyes with his right hand and tried to look again. It was still too bright. And then the sun finally set below the horizon and twilight, long awaited twilight, came. If he could sing he would have. The darkness had never looked so lovely, so inviting before. Twilight was when anything could happen, and he could feel his heart racing in anticipation.

He sniffed the air and found it sweet. There were other scents in the air that he had never noticed before. New sounds, new sights and sensations.... He paused for a moment and tilted his head to the side as if listening to something. What was that? A tune? A lullaby? He couldn’t tell, nor did he care to. The tune, whatever it was, was enjoyable enough and wouldn’t bother him.

He cast about for anything, anyone. All he could sense was the darkness creeping up on him and wrapping herself about him in her cool, velvety embrace. He was enraptured by the feeling and nearly failed to notice the couple walking his way. He closed his eyes and shivered in anticipation. He could smell their fear. Nearly taste it! And he could feel their warmth. Gods, but he had never realized that he was so cold before. Perhaps he could warm himself up somehow....

Adrian watched the couple and stepped back into the shadows of the trees around him. He had a need now....but he wasn’t quite sure what that need was.... He followed the two cautiously from a distance, but he could still smell it....their warmth, their fear....their blood...Hmm...their blood....so sweet, so delectable...maybe he should....

His lips curled slowly into a smile of pleasure, as if the very thought of it brought ecstasy to him. Easy prey...easy prey... He let himself go and closed his eyes. The beauty all around him overwhelmed him and he just let his senses take over and immerse themselves in the sweet, welcoming darkness. Without any real conscious thought, Adrian descended upon the two. He didn’t register their screams of terror or the looks on their faces as he drank from them. Their blood was sweet and warm in his throat and it sent chills through his body. He savored the taste like fine wine and he let it roll over his tongue before swallowing the blood.

He couldn’t tell, but his pale skin began to take on a healthier look and his eyes began to shine with delight. After sating himself, he left the couple unconscious on the ground, letting them die. He didn’t really care what happened to them. He was more interested in what was happening to him. He was no longer so cold. He felt warm and full now. The world was in more focus than it had ever been before. Everything was so beautiful, so radiant, that it stung his eyes, even after twilight. He breathed in deeply and let his breath go slowly, noticing that there was no fog created from this simple action. He paused again on the fringes of the darker shadows and listened. Now he knew what that sound was. It was a tune. A tune from Hell.

Adrian smiled in delight. The night was still young and it was going to be a wonderful evening.

***

He looked about himself in confusion. Where was he? He was laying on his back out in the open, the night sky above him turning slowly from a pale shade of powder blue to a dark royal blue. He could faintly make out the Evening Star far out on the horizon. The light still hurt his eyes, but it was nearing twilight again. Twilight.... His thoughts traveled back to what happened previous evenings he spent before this one...he had lost count, there had been so many now. He closed his eyes and a pleasurable smile graced his lips. That beautiful, sweet taste of blood filling his mouth and hitting the back of his throat as he had fed from his prey.... he still remembered the smell of their fear and their blood. This new thirst he had discovered was like an addiction. No, it was an addiction. He had tried other things that night, but nothing could quite satisfy him the way the blood of humans could.

He loved the look of terror on their faces when he descended upon them and how the struggled feebly against him. He found that he preferred women over men, however; a man’s threshold for pain was not as great as a woman’s, and women had a tendency to find pleasure in pain then men would. What rubbish. If you enjoyed pain as a form of pleasure you were considered a fag. He might as well be called one. He had learned to take pain and derive pleasure from it from his forays into the night.

Adrian placed his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky that was slowly beginning to fill with radiant stars. Strange, how this change in him had made everything so much clearer to him now. What was it the villagers or townspeople called his kind? Vampire? Vampyre? He couldn’t quite remember. It didn’t matter. All that did was slaking his thirst.

He stood up and started to dust himself off when he realized how tattered his clothes had become. Was he not once a lord or young master of his own estate? He should be better dressed than this. Perhaps he should go home.... He grinned evilly. He would give his family a welcome, alright. One they would not forget. Let them call him a fool and a bastard all they wanted. He was still the son of a prince, one of the greatest of the princes, bastard child or love child, whatever you wanted to call it, or not. He would claim his throne.

Adrian narrowed his eyes against the setting sun. He wouldn’t kill them. No. There’s no finesse in that. The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. He would charm his way to the top, and if that didn’t work, well, there was always the alternative... His smile turned cold. Yes, he would charm his way to the top first. Then, and only then, would he use the alternative. This was going to be one hell of a homecoming and how he enjoyed that fact.

His mind made up, he started off down the road in the opposite direction of the setting sun. He was in better spirits now. He would buy new clothes for himself, make a grand entrance, show his family he wasn’t some playboy who spent all of his money on women and wine. As he made his long trek home he began to hum. It was one of those tunes that always lulled him to sleep after he had fed: those beautiful, sweet tunes from hell.

Tiberius had been just as excited about seeing Adrian back as had everyone else.....other than his parents and eldest siblings. But everyone else had been ecstatic. He had run out the main hall half dressed as soon as he had found out that Adrian, his big brother, was home. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw him, though. There was something different about him now. He looked a lot paler and there was a darkness about him that he couldn’t explain. What was going on? Adrian had never been like that. He usually came home drunk or with some girl. Well, his big brother had been gone for nearly 8 months. He supposed someone could change a lot within eight months.

Adrian smiled and knelt down to Tiberius’ height and held out a black gloved hand to him. His whole appearance had changed. He still had the pale hair that had a hint of gold in it and pale eyes, but his skin was much paler now, and the lines on his face seemed slightly sharper, but still refined. He was now dressed in black pants with soft, black leather boots used for riding or walking. Instead of his usual loose poet’s shirt and surcoat, he wore a doublet over the white poet’s shirt and a more intricate surcoat. To top it all off, Adrian now wore a cape. He never wore capes before. He always called them a nuisance.

Adrian smiled reassuringly at Tiberius. “I promise I won’t bite,” he said. His voice was still the same deep, soothing voice that it had always been, but it was more cultured now. More refinement to it. “I have a gift for you.” Adrian reached to an inside pocket of his surcoat withdrew a small intricately carved dagger. “This is for you.”

Tiberius looked at the dagger with wide eyes. He had always wanted one, but his mother had been very vehement about him not having one. Something about accidentally hurting himself. The boy chewed on his lower lip and glanced over his shoulder to see if his mother was there. He looked back at Adrian, who was smiling at him.

“It’s yours, Tiberius,” Adrian said, proffering the dagger to his little brother as if it were some sacred relic.

“But Mommy said I couldn’t have one,” Tiberius said in a loud whisper.

“Then we’ll just have to keep this a secret between you and me, won’t we?” Adrian replied in an equally loud whisper.

Tiberius and his younger siblings were the only ones who didn’t look upon Adrian with disdain. If he could manage it, he would spare them the brunt of what he wanted to do and somehow send them away from here. Things could get ugly. Especially if certain members of his family resisted him, but there wasn’t much chance of that, was there? He grinned to himself, still holding out the dagger to Tiberius.

His little brother cast a fearful glance over his shoulder before grasping the hilt of the bladed weapon in his hands. “But.... how will I keep from hurting myself?” he asked, looking down at the unsheathed weapon.

Adrian rummaged around in one of the many packs he had near him and brought out a small sheath made of tanned leather. It didn’t fit the dagger perfectly, but it would do. “Put it in here,” he instructed, holding the sheath out for Tiberius to place the ornamental dagger in.

Tiberius did as he was beckoned and Adrian gave him his new present. Tiberius tucked the precious, but forbidden, gift away in his tunic, lest his mother see. Adrian smiled at his little brother and reached out to ruffle his hair. Tiberius dodged away from the affectionate gesture and scowled at Adrian. At least that was still the same. Maybe Adrian hadn’t changed as much as he had thought....

Adrian rose to his feet as he noticed his father approach with his wife, Olena. Tiberius turned around to see why he had risen, then drew himself up to his full 4’3” height when he noticed his parents coming their way. Adrian merely stood and watched his father approach him coolly. He had a faint hint of pride and arrogance about him now: the way he carried himself, the way he looked upon his father and Olena. There was the barest hint of disdain upon his face and the corners of his mouth were upturned ever so slightly to give him a look of amusement, as if his father amused him in some sort of way but the father was not aware of it.

The prince of the castle looked Adrian over with only a flicker of his eyes. He could see a change in his bastard son. He remembered a time when his son would wear his clothes carelessly, as if he had just rolled out of bed and thrown them on. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Which had probably been true at the time. Adrian had also stood his shoulders slumped and looked as if all he did was sulk and feel sorry for himself. He never groomed himself either. His hair had always been a mess, but the ladies had seemed to find it attractive for some reason or other.

When he looked at his son now, he saw a man who did groom himself, and apparently very well. His hair was neat and tidy, if somewhat longer than when he had left. He wore a full set of clothes rather than his pants, boots and a poet’s shirt of some off-color hue that was not buttoned completely or correctly. He looked as if he really were the proud son of a prince. His son was also paler than he remembered him being and wondered idly of what could have caused that. He saw Tiberius standing next to Adrian and frowned slightly. The boy was too fond of his older half-brother. Next to the two were several bags of things, and the flap on one of them lay open. Inside were trinkets: ribbon for a girl’s hair, an ornamental hair comb for a lady, a tablecloth made of lace that had been handmade, a pendent of obvious foreign make, and clothes. Gifts for his family, the prince assumed.

“I didn’t expect to see you back,” the prince said, shifting his weight slightly and clasping his hands behind his back. Ever, he left hanging in the air unspoken. He gave his son the same cool, narrowed eyed look that he was receiving from his offspring.

“I did not expect to be back myself,” Adrian replied in even, cool tones. He refused to be nettled and provoked by his father this time. He would not give the old man the satisfaction of seeing him loose his temper and skulk about like he used to.

The lips of the old prince twitched in a faint smile, amused at his son’s obvious attempt to appear detached from him. Him! His own father! He would have guffawed if he were not trying to appear to be the sever father. He had sent Adrian out of his home for living a life of decadence, and he would not permit that in his own home. It was inexcusable, the way Adrian had been living. He cared nothing for his family except for perhaps his younger siblings such as Tiberius, and he spent his money frivolously on women and wine, getting drunk and laid every night. And within his own home!

Now, apparently, Adrian had cleaned up his act. He only hoped that it wasn’t some act and that he really had put his life of debauchery behind him.

The prince gestured to the bags laying near Adrian’s feet. “Gifts, I presume?” he inquired, raising a thick white eyebrow as he asked.

Adrian inclined his head slowly, his gaze never leaving his father’s face. “Yes,” he answered. “After being gone for so long I thought it be appropriate that I bring gifts from the places that I had journeyed through.”

The prince let out a barely audible hmph through his nose. “Indeed,” he replied dryly.

“Merely paying my respects to my family,” Adrian replied in tones that bordered on sarcastic. But not for you and Olena, his eyes seemed to say. It was to be expected. Neither his father, nor his father’s wife anticipated Adrian coming home just to bring them gifts. Certainly for his siblings, but not for them.

“Father?” Tiberius piped up. He continued when the aging prince looked down at him. “Is Adrian staying here?”

The prince looked back up at Adrian and gauged his son’s reaction as he replied, “That would depend upon your brother....” He kept his face impassive and watched Adrian with stone flinted eyes.

“If there is no room for me here, I can find another place to stay,” Adrian replied coolly. He bended his knees slightly to pick up the two bags that lay near his feet and straightened. “All I ask is that I am able to give these gifts to my siblings before I leave if I must.”

Tiberius watched his father hopefully. Maybe his father would let Adrian stay because he came back changed for the better. At least, Tiberius thought that Adrian looked and acted better. He watched as his father vacillated between letting Adrian stay and making him leave.

“He can stay,” the prince finally decided, in an almost monotone voice. He gave a halfhearted glare at Adrian before finally turning on his heel and stalking back into his keep, his wife hot on his heels.

Adrian let the barest hint of a smile touch his face, then schooled his features to be calm once again. He looked down to find Tiberius looking up at him with wide eyes. “How did you do that?” he asked in a shrill voice.

“Do what?” Adrian asked in amused tones.

“Father let you stay! He said that if you ever returned here he would throw you back out into the streets!”

“Did he now?” His lips parted in a sinister, yet triumphant smile and looked back up to where his father had disappeared into his keep. He looked back down at Tiberius and gave him a real smile. “I suppose my good manners made him change his mind.”

Tiberius grinned up at Adrian. Sure, there was something strange about his older brother now, but that didn’t matter. He was home and he would play games with him like he used to before he started to drink and spend a lot of time with women. The little boy threw his arms about Adrian’s legs and hugged him tight. Adrian laughed softly, and it was a comforting sound. He felt Adrian hug him back and ruffle his hair, and this time he didn’t mind.

How he hated the sunlight. He felt weak and tired during the day, and all he could use against his hated family was his charm, his pretty words, and subtle hints of manipulation and persuasion. At night, he was at his prime. He needed very little sleep and was able to put his charms into full effect. Already he had convinced his father’s wife over a series of weeks that his younger siblings would be better off at the court of other lords and princes to broaden their education and view of the world. Tiberius had been in tears when he had been forced to leave, but Adrian had reassured him that he would come to visit him.

The elder siblings that he didn’t mind or had no concern of he convinced them to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Remember that count we met last week? Yes, that one. Don’t you think it would be a wonderful opportunity to learn from him? Yes, I think you should. It would do you good to go to that party. Wouldn’t it be grand if you became a knight? You could live up to Father’s legacy. Wouldn’t that be something? Half-truths. Never lies. It wasn’t their fault completely that they came out the way they did. Olena probably convinced them that he was nothing more than some poor bastard child of their father’s that would get no where because of how he came into the world. Still, it was better to have them out of the keep than stay here. Now he was able to put his plan into action with full force.

Olena was easy enough to subtly bend to his will. His father was an entirely different story. The man was stubborn. Too damn stubborn. It was frustrating trying to convince him of anything and he only seemed to listen to that blasted wife of his. At least she had come in handy for something other than slandering him. He growled at the very thought of her. She was a floozy, nothing more. Why his father married her was beyond him. Why his father had an affair with his mother, he understood completely. With a wife that nagged as much as she did he was surprised she hadn’t died under mysterious circumstances yet. That would drive any man into the bed of another women. That, and if the wife was pregnant. Thus, he, Adrian Cyrus Epting Cross, was conceived. It wasn’t unusual, to be sure, but it sure made his life a lot more complicated than it needed to be. He wasn’t even sure what happened to his mother after he was born. He shrugged to himself. It didn’t matter. He was here, she was not. There was no use in dwelling about things in the past.

Adrian forced himself to calm down. Olena was nothing but some empty headed, adle-brained twit who got lucky and was born into nobility and somehow caught his father’s attention. She was easily subverted to his will, whether she realized it or not. His guess was not. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body. He could faintly hear the music from beyond his window and strained to listen to it. He got up and walked over to the window to hear it better. It was twilight again. Always twilight. Had the day really passed by that quickly? He barely even noticed that the sun had passed its zenith and dipped below the horizon. The music could be heard more clearly now and he closed his eyes. He relished in the sound of tune he could now hear. It always soothed his soul and calmed him better than anything else. He let himself be carried away by the music, humming a harmony to the melody. Perhaps he should find himself a bard....one that would play whatever he desired....that would be a welcome relief from the day.... Sighing, Adrian prepared himself for the week ahead.

Every day and night he applied his charms upon his father’s wife but still nothing. The old bastard was more resilient than he thought. Could the old man have seen what he was doing? No matter. He was getting old and most, if not all, of his children were off in other parts of the world, “learning.” He had very little choices of who would be left to run his keep if he became invalid. His wife certainly couldn’t. She was too much of an air head to handle such things.

So Adrian waited. He waited patiently and visited Tiberius while he did so. Olena sent out letters to her children telling them about what was going on at the keep, which was next to nothing. Finally, to his delight, his father’s health began to fail him. He played the concerned son but he was celebrating in joy quietly as soon as he found out. Finally, the old man would die. He would celebrate by going out and finding himself a woman, something he hadn’t done in a long time. Not the usual trumpet or streetwalker...maybe a woman of some social standing... Someone who could help him gain the throne... Now was the time to make his move. But on his death bed, Prince Cross still refused to name an heir. When he died, the entire keep was in an uproar. All of his elder siblings came home and he kept quiet as the others fought with each other. He played one sibling off of another and soon he was the one in power. He had effectively arranged it so that his male siblings killed one another off in combat or by some other ominous means. Adrian appropriated the throne in no time, and his father’s widowed wife died soon after. Some said of a broken heart, which was probably true, but why should he care? He got what he wanted...... didn’t he?

He did gain the throne like he had wanted, but he was all alone now. He shrugged to himself. No matter. He would fill these old halls with people that were loyal to him and slowly get rid of his father’s old servants and lackeys. No point in holding onto people that could turn on you.

And so it began. Adrian Cross, now prince, began his reign over his father’s princedom.

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