Weapons fly everywhere. This is utter chaos. I hear horses and men cry. My heart races and almost pops out of my chest. I never thought war would have this many screams rattling in my ears. A man charges at me. I dodge and slam my sword into his face. I rip it out.

Blood was everywhere. The ground is soaked in it. I'm painted red. Although, I don't think this is my blood. I think it's the people I killed. My muscles ache from stabbing people and ripping my sword out. This is exhausting. Is war just blood and tiredness? What is this world I was born into?

An arrow flies and shoots me in the arm. I wince. I wouldn't have to deal with this problem if I had armor and maybe a shirt. I turn. My eyes widen. A boy. Younger than me. I stand up. He's not one of us. I rip out the arrow. I charge. I slam my sword into his bow. It shatters. He falls down. He looks up at me. I look into his wide eyes.

Innocent. Why am I feeling like... like... afraid? My hands start to shake as I pick up the sword.

"Please. Please." The boy shakes.

Why do I feel sorry for this boy? He's the enemy. He's the enemy. I'm supposed to kill Turks on sight. Plus, he shot me, and my shoulder is bleeding. Why am I hesitating? I should never hesitate to kill. I eventually suck in a breath, and I slice his head off. I let out a breath. I almost cr.

Then I hear a yell. What? We're retreating? I can't see. I can't see anyone I'm familiar with. I turn and I see a wave of Turks. My purpose in my life, whatever you call it, is to kill Turks on sight. I charge. I don't care if we're retreating or not. I'm killing as many as I can.

(<>) (<>) (<>)

"At age fourteen he killed five hundred people." I say.

"What?" Ciel asks.

"That began my fascination with him. Two years older than you, Ciel, and he killed five hundred men on his first battle. Then after the battle, he was adopted by none other than one of the mightiest warriors, Vlad the Impaler, or more commonly known as Dracula." I say.

I watch as Vlad kneels down before the boy. He offers him his hand. The boy takes it.

"He began a new name. Limier." I look at Ciel.

"Blood hound." Ciel says.

I nod.