He awoke in a dark room, some kind of underground place, the dripping was one of the few sounds he could hear as he found himself chained, unable to move, his arms spread painfully, his head barely able to move. What was the point of all this? What were they trying to do? Did they want to kill him?

Silence echoed in the room, his heightened senses able to pick up everything from the slightest whisper to a roaring yell. Men and women discussed his treatment with one another, almost arguing with one another.

"Our guest has awoken" a cold, bone-chilling voice whispered. His hair was dark, mattered, his eyes black and as cold as Valenus's own eyes.

"To look at him... you could never tell" a woman whispered softly. He could hear her gentle voice, see her beautiful strands of red and intrigued yet fearful eyes, the solid blue on white was frightening and yet... he liked it, not the eyes, the fear, he liked the fear in her eyes.

He did not bother asking where he was, he did not bother trying to break out. He could feel his blood draining, a cut draining it from him. Did they realise how big their mistake was? Did they realise how quickly he would become thirsty for blood? Did they realise what they were unleashing, what evil the world would soon face? The ever growing monster that demanded to be fed, every week it demanded blood but tonight, tonight it demanded a feast.

"You were very hard to track but the king will certainly be interested. Do not worry; we just need the blood for testing, developments"

"The king wants to use my blood, does he not?" Valenus questioned.

"The king wants the cup, you or the other disgraced knights have it. Here is the deal, if you give up the cup, we will take you to the king and there he can decide your fate once he has his immortality"

"If I die, I will never be able to talk and your plans will have been ruined!" he yelled out.

"Do you think we are stupid? We have our ways"

"Do you want me to offer an answer?" Valenus asked rudely, agitated by their stares, their light eyes behind white hoods.

"Do not worry; we will have you talking soon. You will tell us where the cup is" the man replied coldly, so cold it would have iced his blood.

Valenus stayed silent, smirking in the darkness but all of that was soon wiped away. The familiar smell, the beating heart, her screams... he knew her, even with the cloak covering her head, he knew her. He grabbed onto the chains, his hands wrapping around them, trying to twist them around, to break them.

"I take it you know each other?" the man said twistingly, reacting to Valenus's reaction. "Do not worry, she will be fine, if you tell us where the cup is. If you do not then she will be your next meal" he promised as he removed the cloak from her head.

"Valenus, forgive me... I came to find you" she whispered softly, her voice melting his heart.

"It is interesting... even for a monster, he still has a heart, still has his weakness" the man commented as he held a blade to her throat.

"Do not do it, Valenus, do not do it" she begged tearfully.

"The monster might enjoy this little feast, once I am done, he will have nothing left to lose"

He tugged hard at the chains, the blade itching closer and closer to her neck. The hunger within him burnt as bright as the colour of blood, the anger made it easier as he broke the chains, freeing himself. Had he looked upon his own face, he would have seen a monster, his shirt ripped off, his blood wings emerged as he slit the throats of many, drinking as much as he could. He murdered them all, leaving her there, the only human left alive. His wings were soon hidden as his lust for blood was sated, without asking or telling her, he erased the moments from her mind, locking them away so she would never know, never see the memories. 

Leaving her was the right thing to do; he had tasted a darkness he had not known before, a need for blood he had not known before. He burnt what he could before taking the cup. Hiding it was going to be an issue, while the king still lived; it was not going to be safe. He needed to do the one thing he could not before, wear a new face, go to the king and put an end to him. He needed to take the fight to the king and hopefully erase all memory of the cup's location. The fewer who knew about it, the fewer people after it and the higher the chance of it just vanishing into thin air, leaving little to no trace of it, he wanted to hide it from everyone. He had let Isolla go, let her age and die without being able to remember the voice or face of a monster.

"What is it, brother?" Canor asked rudely as he appeared in the distance, out of the shadows like a ghost in the night.

"We have not spoken since the night of our deaths"

"Have you summoned me merely to make small talk?" he asked rudely, almost aggressively.

"That is the hunger, I feel it too. It is connected to the thing I hold close, the cup that made us monsters. I want you to take it; I want you to hide it. I do not want to know nor care where, you must"

"Why would you ask me and not the others?"

"I am becoming like them. Do you not see it brother? I am turning into them"

"Into our brothers, why, why are you not fighting it?"

"Because part of me does not want to" he replied almost coldly before he left the cup in his possession and vanished into thin air.

He had previously called it; the worst feeling in the world was not when he called it but when it came, when it answered his call. He did not want to be around that, not as he felt himself change. Inside he was becoming twisted, he felt it, all that power... it did not just vanish into thin air. He kept it bottled inside him but he liked it, the taste of it as if that was not even scratching the surface. He wanted to explore that power but everything that cup had given him, every little thing came with its own cost. 

Did he want to be evil? Did he want to be cruel? Did he want to live a life where he was forced into the shadows, feeling nothing but shame? No, he wanted the world at his feet, for him to become his own person and not live in the shadow of a monster that was hungry for blood. He had become a monster; his life was dark and dangerous at the best of times. His loss, his anger did not stop him, it made him, made him see everything he did not want to see, feel everything he did not want to feel for someone. Isolla, she had his whole heart but she would one day die from anything human, he would not. Like a ghost, he was condemned, damned and forced to walk the shadows for all eternity.

Why did he not see the truth? Why did he not see the cup, what it would do to him? Because he was foolish, power clouded his mind and slowly, that power was devouring his humanity. He could feel it, the pain and the loss and how it came to life. He was going to lose everything, despite his efforts to stop it, it was going to happen. 

Isolla was gone, her memory of him removed for her own good. He did not want to lose her, to take away the memories they shared but their relationship would never had survived more than a few moments. The pain, their pain was all too much, too cruel inside and out to ignore, to manage. He was naïve, thinking he could ignore the pain, settle down and have a family. There was no chance of marriage, even less of a family. He wanted a wife, a child, two if he could. A daughter that would look too much like her mother, a son who would be strong and brave yet able to think for himself and act accordingly, not be a dog for a king like Arthur, one that had to die.

Arthur was a hidden monster, a liar, a monster that had to be destroyed. He would have killed the previous king's daughter, if he had the chance, murdered her son in cold blood, the son they shared, Mordred. Such a monstrous act because of a minor difference could not be forgiven.

He was already running down the long, windy path of evil. Evil beings lurked in the shadows, hiding from what they were, becoming monsters too frightened to face the day. The sunlight itself burnt his skin like candle wax but the monster, the ever growing monster would not let him venture out, would not let him see the sunlight and all its beauty.

If there was one thing he was going to do, it was kill the one man who wanted to see him, who wanted his blood, to make himself a monster. The king had to be hunted down, like an evil monstrosity, he had to be hunted down, torn apart if Valenus had the strength, the hunger. Ironically when he was hungry, he was stronger, much stronger as if it were some sort of survival instinct, a need perhaps but still the monster pulled him to feed, compelled him or at least... it used to. For many months, years it pulled him to feed however since his last victim, an innocent woman fresh out of a newly built church, his hunger had lessened, the monster almost... silenced.

Was it because the cup had left his possession? Was it because it was no longer around him, to influence him or was it something else... something much more... deadly? Was it merely because he had promised it blood, royal blood? 

Did it enjoy the promise of blood, royal blood? Did it enjoy the idea of killing, of drinking an innocent victim's blood? If only the king was innocent, if only he felt or seemed innocent. He was a dangerous man, a monster with the lust for anger. Valenus was a monster, a monster who was slowly feeling nothing for his victims, not feeling a thing for those he butchered out of hunger. 

He needed the blood, still needed it and had no choice but to appease it but he could wait, wait and feel himself growing stronger and stronger, as long as he did not feed, he grew stronger. It was as if the blood retreating from his veins had made him more monstrous, made him more of a bloody mess when he did feel but made him stronger when he did not. What was happening to him? Was this a side effect of him becoming more human or was it because of the promise he had made, the promise of a bloody murder.

Was it the promise of blood? Was it the promise of a blood bath, the vampire like me desperate for blood, human blood, the blood he wanted, needed? Was he still going to be as strong as he was, as strong as he knew? He was a monster, a bloody monster with a hatred for people sometimes since they were often a temptation to him, an irresistible temptation. He gave up trying to be nice, trying to make friends with others.

He did not deny the need to drink blood but there was another feeling, almost like another temptation... the feeling of joy, happiness. He was hungry for blood but hungry for someone specific, the king himself.

He was not sure about going back to the kingdom, about going back to the place that haunted his memories and his dreams. He had no family; it had been a little while since he had entered the awful kingdom, since he was a knight and a decent looking man. It was before he was pale with eyes with a slight red tinge. The black hair and curls apparently looked beautiful but his eyes, the colour of his eyes... he had forgotten what colour they were once, brown, blue? Whatever his mind told him they were.