(One year later)

Valenus settled with the cup safely hidden away from view, from temptation. No one wanted or needed that cup, no one could see it. He found work, not much but it was work, a stable hand as a hardworking young man, young being the keyword. Since that night, the night he let himself be cursed was the night he stopped aging.

Since that night, everything had changed for him. Cuts healed almost instantly, the touch of silver... the touch of the cup burnt his hands and sunlight burnt his skin, like candle wax at first only to turn more and more extreme as time went by, as he struggled to resist the one major change... a thirst, a thirst that could not be sated by wine or water, a hunger that could not be sated by food of any kind. He was a monster that craved only one thing... blood.

The monster within him had to be contained, it could not be allowed to roam free, to break free and be unleashed onto the world as a dark, monstrosity that plagued the earth and everything around it. The world was broken, he was breaking inside but not from the hunger, no, he was still changing, still turning into whatever he had begun turning into. He was growing stronger, much stronger and he didn't tire easily, not like before he cursed himself, then he tired so quickly, it was frightening.

He fed on blood once every week if he could help it but even after feeding once a week, he could still feel it, feel it burning inside of him, the need to consume more blood. Life burnt within him, hunger glowed, twisting and turning him, throwing him around like a doll until finally, finally the pain ended for moments, those moments being when he gave in, when he fed and when the monster within him was sated.

His hair was still curly, his skin still pale and as white as a sheet. He was a monster now, he knew it but it only made him more determined to stop it happening to others, to stop them knowing the monster's true face, true form. Beneath the pale skin, the sweet eyes and the black curls, the monster lurked, literally the monster lurked, begging for blood.

He was a great hunter, he could feel the heartbeats of the people the monster targeted, singled out to kill... to feed. He was a great hunter with an angelic face yet the words of God brought him no happiness, just pain, layers of pain if he was in his true form... the monstrous shape no human would be able to look at without fearing.

His memories were still fragile and painful as painful as the day they were made and cemented into his mind. Scars, mental scars lingered but physical scars healed and fixed themselves as if they were never there. He died inside that night, never took a single breath again since. As a monster, he struggled with his own life, his beliefs and acceptance, his own acceptance. He was a monster, he knew it and yet he didn't fear it, he just accepted it. Business with him and the cup was not finished; it was never going to be finished until he could rid himself of the curse.

He'd done a terrible thing without realising the price. He'd gone from being a knight for the king to one of seven hidden in darkness, literally and figuratively. Hiding in the shadows seemed to be their way of life, of hiding what they had done and become. Monsters, they were all monsters, monstrosities with burning thirst and hatred, hatred for themselves, for each other.

Valenus was left with the weight of guilt sitting heavily on his shoulders. He'd left with the cup, to hide it and at the same time hide from the king he once served. Moving from kingdom to kingdom, always under a false name, a new name and new identity with the hope and pretence of being able to stay in that kingdom for more than a couple of months while King Arthur searched for his missing men, Merlin no longer by his side, thankfully unable to tell him what his knights became. No one told him why his men went missing, why his loyal men took the cup and ran, ran so they could live like rats, hiding in the shadows, in the darkness like monsters. They were no longer men; they were monsters, evil beings with possibly just some of their humanity left. They were not God's creations, not anymore. Whatever they drank, it was not the blood of God's son; it was something worse, something dark and evil.

"Valenus, you work yourself like a dog. I fear you will work yourself to your grave if you do not slow yourself down" Isolla whispered, her soft face complimented by her gentle light strands of silk, a light blonde, almost like ash was so beautiful even in the darkness. How he wished he could have seen her just once in the light.

"Perhaps, My Lady but I prefer to, a man has to do a good job in order to put a roof over his head and food on his table" he replied shyly, never once looking her in those pale blue eyes, turquoise set on gentle face, carved by Heaven.

"Valenus, how many times must I tell you? My name is Isolla, not My Lady" she replied playfully, her dress a perfect red, embroided with flowers of gold.

"Forgive me but I, well I... I prefer to call you so, travelling men rarely settle"

"Are you frightened of my name or calling me by my name in front of my husband?" she asked softly, so well-spoken, a woman of beauty and intelligence who could see the world in her own view, not the way most women of her age chose to see it.

"My Lady, your husband is my employer, I do it out of respect" he confessed, briefly looking into her soft eyes, wondering how a man who more resembled a pig than a man managed to ensnare such a beauty like she was with her beauty inside and out.

She just smiled, her hand on his shoulder, resting their gently. He looked up at her, barely looking her in the eye, her soft smile almost sympathetic, as if she could sense the monster underneath. If she knew, she would not be sympathetic, not as bodies piled high, kingdoms burnt their dead and in the chaos, the monster responsible slipped out of their kingdom and off their lands before anyone could find him or find out about him.

If they knew, they would probably try to kill him and as much as that sometimes appealed, he couldn't let himself die just yet, there was more to do before he could. He had to find a way to cure the curse, to release himself and the others from it before it set in like rot, before years turned into decades and decades into centuries with no results and the curse growing, unless this was the end, what they were feeling was its worst. Valenus couldn't see how it could be any worse but that was only because his imagination wouldn't let him, not because it wasn't there, not because there was nothing coming for him but because he had to believe the curse was at its worst and that it had already done its job and taken many lives. If only he truly realised how completely, utterly naïve he was in believing that.

If he could have stopped it, he would have, meeting the sun for the first time since his cursed days began but the curse had no loopholes, no wriggle room. He was not allowed to die, he couldn't die. As hard as he tried he wasn't allowed to die. The worst bit was he no longer felt human anymore; the humanity within him had since rotted, withered and rotted away. He was an empty shell, empty for where his soul once was it was no more. He was dead inside, a broken and perhaps twisted mind, a twisted and sickening man. He felt himself changing; every day was another nightmare in its purest form. Nothing good came out of knowing what was going to happen to him, where he'd go and what he'd be, a monster, a face of evil and corruption.

He was the thing men and women would tremble at the sight of if they so much as caught a mere glimpse of him, of his monstrous face. It was the face of pure evil, cruelty and sickness. He was the monster, not a man just a monster who fed from men, women and if he could allow himself, children too. He'd become the thing he could not stand, the face that he wore was of a man but his soul was rotten to the core, gaping holes in the fabrics of time thanks to him, his methods, madness. He could feel it, the breaking of the fabrics that held his soul in place. What was he to do? Become the monster or stay as the man, struggling against the very same monster he could become?

What could he do? He had to choose, choose to become a monster, accept it and use it or die when the time was right, after years of torment, a tormented life fighting such a great and powerful evil. Blood was his to drink so it seemed, it was his to tear out, to drain. No one was safe from the monster, beyond said monster's grasp. His hunger... evil, monstrous, there was nothing he could do for himself or others apart from hope and pray his painful hunger would end.

He could not spend more than three months, maybe a touch longer in a city. As soon as the king heard a rumour, he sent men after him. Valenus was not ready to die yet; he had to fight for his own life, for his freedom. He was not ready for people to meet him, meet the monster underneath the mask of the man with long black curls and beautiful eyes. Underneath that, there lurked the monster, the monstrosity that was him, one he could never look in the mirror or see standing there, in his place.

The path was clear, even as he struggled to accept it or believe it. He was going down a strong, destructive path that was heading towards one place and one place alone, death itself. He wanted to die; he invited death to come for him as if he were an ancient man, begging for his death, an end to his pain. He begged every god he could name, hoping one would answer his prayers but it was as if God turned his light away that night.

He finished later that night, his thirst pulsing through his veins, the only sound close to a human heart he could hear now. He was not delusional, he knew his hunger was there, that it would keep luring him in but he stopped believing its false promises, its lies and saw it for what it was. It was merely a demonic monstrosity but it had eyes, eyes for one woman. He purity, her kindness and her soul had drawn the monster towards her. Whoever Valenus cared for, whoever threatened the monster's hold had to go, had to die.

He had to fight it off, fend off the monster but how? His hunger... it was driving him insane. The lust for blood, turning him into a monster as it set its sights on the purest of pure souls. Isolla, the one with a heart merely made of gold, not a sliver of black within it. That was why the monster wanted her so badly, wanted her blood. The monster loved the purest of souls, settled for the worst of them but felt truly strong, alive after drinking from the purest. His soul was about as pure as Lucifer's, black and ruined, broken and hurt once again. He was no man anymore; he had not aged a day or tired since he damned himself.

He had to leave, had to leave her and go somewhere else, somewhere she was safe and where she'd be ok, alive. She would never again have to look upon the face of evil, see the mask meant to draw her in, put up by the monster. He had to go, for her safety, for his love and care, he had to do the right thing, even if it meant leaving her forever, never once returning to the place he once knew.

He packed up his things, a small collection of belongings before taking his horse from the stables. She was used to it, the running and the shame of it all but the one thing he didn't count on was her being there, Isolla. He could see her, even underneath her hood, with fear trembling in his eyes as he looked at her, the monster was clawing its way out, twisting and turning to try and force its way out.

Her eyes filled up with tears and fear as she saw him, not the monster but the man, the man with darkened eyes, hunger written within them as if it were on pages of a book. She struggled to jump onto her horse, it too tall and she too small before he helped her up. He slowly, gently almost picked her up, placing her on the horse.

Her fear turned to surprise as she asked "why did you not call for my husband?"

He thought for what seemed like hours, struggling to come up with a decent excuse until he realised, he had no reasons nor excuses. He did not know why he had done such an act. Helping her escape her husband, a man who's temper he knew only too well? It seemed reasonable to him. She was young, beautiful and yet seeming trapped and he had to do what was right.

"Because I care for you, My Lady" he replied as he climbed onto his own.

"Where will you go, Valenus? My husband, he will chase you" she asked almost warningly.

"I do not know" he replied truthfully.

Wherever the king's guards were not, he could go and stay in. The king knew their faces; he had an artist paint them all. The king's guards would know his face, see it, recognise it and pay for that with the only thing of value to the monster, their lives.

He hurried off with her, making sure she was safe and alive before he left her, travelling towards a new city, settling at a small inn in a smaller room. It was tiny, for sure but there was nothing to be done, not a single thing. All he could think about was Isolla, what her husband must have been like. You do not just run away after a single fight, you work it out but she literally ran. Something had to be done; he had to be stopped before it was too late for her.

Her husband would never stop chasing her, never stop searching. He knew how that felt but he could not fix his own situation but he could fix hers, change it ever so slightly so she could be free, free to love someone worthy of her, free to marry again. If he could set her free, perhaps a piece of his soul could find peace, perhaps a part of him was not completely stolen from him or lost, never to be found again.

He took another horse, silently, hiding his face as he left the small inn. He had to be careful; no one knew that more than he did. The king's men would check the city, would know his face and probably wonder about the stranger that had just come into town. He was a monster, not a man like Isolla's husband seemed to be. If Valenus had any respect for her, her husband had to go.

He hid in the city, the large city with small huts, inns and large manors. The doors to his next meal's home were strong, not strong enough. Valenus needed no invitation; he had been invited in before by the man's wife. If only she knew she had invited a vampire into her home, potentially put herself in so much danger but Valenus thanked her for such an act, without her invitation, he would have to draw his meal out to taste it, to feed off its life.

He pushed the door open slowly, hearing it creak as the man turned to look. "There you are. Where is dinner? I came home and you were not there, this is simply unacceptable!"

'Dinner is right where you are standing' Valenus let himself think, not bothering to hide his long white teeth or monstrous red eyes, red as the blood he drained from victim after victim.

"Oh, it is you, what do you want? If it more hours, forget it!" the man snapped disappointingly.

Valenus could not help it, his human emotions clouded his judgement and he could not resist the urge. His fist smashed into the nose of Isolla's husband, causing it to stream blood, twin streams down his face, the crimson red a familiar sight. Valenus barely held on all while staring coldly at the warm liquid, hearing and understanding its hungry song.

"What is wrong with you?! Have you lost your mind?!"

"A year of hunger, torment and loneliness should have taken it away but alas it seems I am not so easily defeated. Your wife will never come back; you will never see her again"

"So my employee, her lover, helped hide her? How sad, she really has sunk so low. Still it seems everything can be brought for a price. If you hit me again, if you even threaten me again, I shall have you hung, however if you turn back, I will offer you a promotion, you can manage those you had to call your equals, I will give you a... large bonus for having done such a good job"

"Keep your gold, I do not want it" Valenus replied coldly, colder than snow on a mountain.

"I am not done yet, boy" he warned, his tone aggressive, like an animal threatening to eat him.

"What do you want?" Valenus asked, merely humouring the man, making the prey feel like it had a way out.

"I want Isolla back. I am willing to overlook the affair... well, your side of it. You tell me where she is and I will give you her weight in silver"

"Silver... yes... silver, silver is poetically the symbol I would pick too for it is the symbol of betrayal. Keep your silver" Valenus replied.

"Fine, I will offer it anyway once I find her. Once I have her back, you will have her weight in silver, her dead weight in silver and her head mounted on the top of the pile" the man replied, laughing to himself.

Valenus could not help it; he flew into a rage, throwing the man back into his desk. The man's face turned from a smirk to anger as he drew his dagger but Valenus was faster, stronger than him. He pinned him down onto the ground, plunging the knife into his hand. The man screamed violently, his hand creating a lake of blood that Valenus did not think twice about drinking, his head bent down to taste the fresh blood, his eyes almost black.

"Pity is it not, how these eyes shall be the last things you see" he whispered as the man whimpered with fear. "If only you let her go, a pure spirit like her should not be tied to a man like you"

The man tried to speak but his words were deafened by his screams as Valenus plunged his fangs into the man's neck, his blood deliberately spilling everywhere, spraying on his walls as Valenus drank deeply. The blood was so oddly satisfying, the evil creature of the world was feeding off another, only difference was that Valenus was the worst because behind his façade there was a monster that none knew existed and none could see before it was too late.

He rode back, dumping his bloody shirt and stealing another, using a lake to clean himself off. He let his emotions rule him, those emotions that could be his making or his undoing if he was not careful. Isolla, she was free, he would no longer find her. He put the shirt on slowly, no wounds, no scars, no red eyes or long teeth. His hunger for now was sated; he could now be free without the pain.

As he walked back into the inn, he sat down for a drink with a bunch of drunks, too drunk to remember if he was there all night or not, just what he needed to hide again.