The day Mihai, Snegur's blonde son, left the castle to go to war was a sad day. He was uncertain about his own survival in the course of the incoming battle and, mostly, Lord Ond_ej, his revered elderly stepbrother, was very ill so the young man doubted they would see each other when back again…

Anyway, Alexandru, Moldavia's Voivode, had recalled every knight to defend the town of Cetatea Alb_ from the invading Turks and the call to arms couldn't be refused.

Unexpectedly, after the enemies were defeated and Mihai safely got home, he was informed that his stepbrother had completely recovered from the deadly illness. However, something had changed.

Very surprised and happy at the same time, the knight was so fond of his stepbrother who had cared about him after his parent's death because of the black plague ravaging the county more than 20 years before. The Lord had raised him until today. The young noble couldn't have shown more respect to any other man, as Ond_ej had made him a religious knight of the Principality, too.

Weird fact, Mihai had not yet been able to meet him again after returning. He had been frequently asking to be received, unsuccessfully so far. As far as he knew Ond_ej showed himself publicly no more.

Then, he discovered that some other members of the Lord's family- - as niece Nika- - had been visited by the elderly stepbrother at night. It seemeed quite that Ond_ej had seen everyone around except him. Why?

So, one day, Mihai decided it was time to know more. While heading for the Great Hall, he didn't notice any guardsman around: the passageways looked ominously in the dark. Then he found his stepbrother, finally.

The Lord was on his knees next to young niece Nika, her curly hair laying lasciviously on the armchair. Ond_ej had bloodshot eyes, a pale skin, some blood seeping from the open mouth. His look was disquieting and terrifying all the same! Mihai restrained himself from crying out, then turned back and left.

But he hadn't been unnoticed, as Ond_ej had sensed his presence…

Yearning to forget the night before, Mihai didn't want to call his revered Lord's acts into question. But his own religious education required some intervention!

The morning after the knight asked some members of Ond_ej's family for an explanation about that strange behaviour, but no one seemed eager to speak and did nothing but telling him that Ond_ej was still recovering…

It was the Lord himself who sent for the knight that night. Mihai found him seated on his throne, right as rain. No sign of the paleness he had seen on his face yesterday, now his eyes appeared blue as usual, like his own pupils.

"I pay homage to you, Lord stepbrother. Glad you have recovered…" the knight said.

"Pleased to see you alive!You held high Snegur's lineage in battle!" he articulated his words piercingly.

"You look differently. May I ask what happened during the war…?"

"Our court physician made me undergo an old treatment…some ancient ritual which could have been of help-the old man replied.

"What ritual?" Mihai pressed forward, warily.

"He had me bitten by a rare bat, living in the the High Tatras range, that possesses some special properties. Actually, the bite can breathe strength into you and make you feel better, healthy…but there is a price to pay: you have to feed only on your next of kin's blood, no one else, henceforth…"

"I see…"Mihai nodded, heartbroken. That was blasphemy, he well knew!

"Now are you ready to accept to feed me, as the others in the family already do in turn every night, like Nika… ?"

"I…sure, Lord…" the knight nodded.

"The next night will be your turn, see you at midnight!"

"As you like…" the young man replied and took leave.

On the way back to his quarters, Mihai felt as if a terrible burden had just fallen on his shoulders…

The evening before, the knight prayed to God, then took his broadsword and went before the Lord at night. Mihai said he was ready but, as a favor(as he didn't like such a thing to happen before anybody else's eyes), asked the procedure to take place in the old secret chamber where the castle treasures were usually kept safe.

"Granted" Ond_ej stated.

But while in there, as the Lord approached his neck, Mihai hit him with the heavy scabbard, then went for the the hidden device meant to close the stone door.

While the gear activated, Ond_ej shrilled "What the hell…?"

"You have become a monster, one of the fabled Vourdalak, a Vampire…!" Mihai adjudged "I regard you and I couldn't ever kill you…But such a blasphemy must be stopped. I seal you in here forever, in the name of God!"

"Don't!!!"

Trying to forget the yells, Mihai got to the family's quarters at once, killing all the members he found in the castle. That was the punishment for they have behaved in such an unblessed way!

While supervising the excavation of the old medieval castle remains within Orhei county, finally the archaeologist Stefan Snegur was going to unearth the last layers of ground. As a descendant of the once noble House of Snegur, he was fully entitled to be the first academician to unveil the truth about the sudden fall of that fortress occurred more than 600 years before. Likely, cause of some bloodshed or a siege…

As the last hindrance was taken away, Stefan stepped into, being soon enveloped by the surrounding darkness. Sensing the presence of a shadow nearby, he exclaimed "Oh my…"

Then one feeble old voice whispered "My young guest, the smell of your blood sounds like something familiar with my taste…"

Jordan's Lake in Bedfordshire lay placid and silent under a thick midnight blanket of mist and darkness. In the center of the lake, upon a rowboat enveloped by the curling mists, sat an old knight named Guy Smoke, waiting patiently for a friend.

Guy did not wait long — Bex had always been punctual. The rowboat began to bob as something tugged at its anchor rope. Guy leaned the opposite direction, keeping the boat right, and watched the impenetrable depths with calm, gray eyes.

Soon the water rippled and a skeletal hand grasped the little boat's gunwale. It was black with decay and slick with algae.

The skeleton hoisted itself aboard opposite Guy and sat staring at him with its empty sockets as water dripped from its bones. It smelled of fish.

"Hello, Bex," said Guy.

Bex titled his skull to one side.

"I know I said we had retired," said Guy, anticipating the question Bex could not ask, "but I can't ignore this one. There's children involved."

Slowly, silently, Bex nodded.

With a rattling thump, Guy dropped his leather satchel in the grass by a cheery picket fence.

"Time to work," he said, giving it a light kick.

Bex rose from the bag, bones assembling piece by piece with the snickety-snak sound of magnets slapping together until he stood gazing at the suburban scene.

"It's in there," said Guy, pointing to a small, suburban house, "but it's too fresh for me to tell. I need you to point it out."

Bex headed that way.

"Stop," hissed Guy. "You can't go in, mate."

Bex regarded the living man. He knew what Guy wanted and he hated it.

"I only need one and then only for a few minutes."

The skeleton did not move.

"Burke would do it," said Guy.

Bex stiffened then made a rude gesture at Guy. Ever the opportunist, the old knight promptly snapped off the offending digit.

If the skeleton could have sighed, he would have done.

"Hide nearby. I might need you."

Ringing the bell wasn't Guy's style, but he felt odd about kicking in the door. He settled for pounding on it like a disgruntled landlord.

Commotion on the inside: shuffling feet and whispered conversation. Guy concealed Bex's middle finger in his right palm.

"Who's there?" A man's voice.

"Police. Open up."

More whispering: a woman's voice. Guy had a sinking feeling his prey wasn't either of the parents.

The door opened two fingers width. Guy stiff-armed his way inside.

"Hey," cried the man, "you're not police."

Bex's finger didn't move. Guy's heart sank.

"We got a tip your children are in danger," said Guy. "Where are they?"

"Asleep," said the woman.

"Take me to them. It's life and death."

The man still wanted to hedge, but the woman shot down the hallway. Guy followed.

"Tina?" said the mother as she approached a white wooden door bearing a framed picture of a blonde teen delivering to the camera a sultry smile beyond her years. She started to push it open, but Guy stopped her and did it himself.

The room beyond was dark. Light spilled into it revealing a small figure crouched beside a large bed.

"George?" said the mother.

The little figure turned. In the darkened room it was hard to see the gore on his chin, but Guy had seen that sort of thing before.

Bex's finger tugged hard towards the boy.

"George has been sick," said the mother.

"Too right," whispered Guy.

He switched on the light.

Tina had no face. The cartilage that had been her nose was gone. One blue eye dangled, flaccid, on her bloody cheek. The other socket was empty.

The parents' screams were nothing compared to the sound that issued from little George who looked perhaps six. His ghoul's scream was high-pitched, earsplitting.

He crouched to leap. Guy didn't hesitate, but threw Bex's finger. The joint, drawn by the undead, shot across the room and took George in the eye like a dart. The ghoul howled and shuffled back a step.

In the same instant the father pushed the mother into the hall behind Guy. Good man that.

Guy whipped his dueling knives from his coat and stood in his old fighting stance. His arthritic knees complained, but he ignored them.

George scrambled on all fours over one end of the bed, his remaining eye watching the knight. Bex's finger tracked with it in the other socket.

Guy moved to intercept him and George attacked, flying at Guy's face, his nails raised like talons. Guy knew they were nothing more than what any boy would have, but the ghoul, with the strength lent him by animated death, could use them like little razors. He lifted an arm to shield his face, but George raked at his neck, tearing out furrows.

"George!" screamed the mother. She was hysterical and the father could barely keep her from dashing back into the room.

At her voice the ghoul turned, using Guy as a springboard to leap. He bore her to the floor even as his baby teeth sank into her throat.

Blood flew.

It happened too fast. Guy could not reach her and even as he dashed to save the father he knew it was too late.

Bex appeared.

He lifted the ghoul child up by its scalp. It howled and kicked and scratched at the skeleton, but to no avail. The father scrambled backwards and, gaining his feet, ran from the house screaming.

Guy severed George's neck with his knives. It didn't take long. With a wet thump George's small body fell atop his mother. Bex dropped the head then retrieved and reattached his finger.

Guy glanced at the grisly pile and shuddered, not for the gore, but for the hearts torn asunder by this work.

"Now we retire," he said.

Bex regarded his master in silence.

"Don't look at me like that. I mean it this time."

Blood torn and muzzle fully feasted red, Her fangs reflect the distant moon, full, She glared up. WE both knew I was powerless. She in her blood lust is gorged full and dangerous.

I knew I'd see Her later, after She cleaned up, calm and sated.

I had to bury the victim. Being Her slave, the dirty work was my claim to life. Full moons were bad omens, and a harvest moon, tonight, the worst. She does not have to speak. Her mind is known to me. I am the only one allowed in.

During the day, She a normal being, except she sleeps. She is exhausted. But come the rotation of the planet far from the facing sun, She is renewed and She became an animal, a huntress.

Again the screams, Hers as She attacks, and the chosen one. Then comes the thud of a body being driven to the ground, flesh torn from bones alive. The last breath is taken but I know the brain continues to know its fate. The body drowning screams for its life giving oxygen, fuel from its own blood, now gone. I dare not witness.

Too soon it could be me.

Where to run?

She would sniff me out.

To the police? An accomplice? That would never do.

Turning to our new guest and thinking to myself, let me calm you down. Let me calm myself. "Did I mention, as you can see, our home is an old thick walled Victorian building? It is set well back from the road we live outside of the city limits. A tall iron gate surrounds the compound. The interior is magnificent. The tall walls are of plaster, not the pasty boards used in the homes erected today. We decorated the large walls with the finest tapestry from India, Persia and China. The art, which we both love, is placed just right. It leads you through time. Her favorites periods in order are, Modern-cubist, then some early Renaissance and finally the in the drawing room, you will discover a fine collection of impressionist paintings as well…"

Our conversation is interrupted by Her presence. She is beautiful and feline graceful. One rarely hears Her approach.

"Yes, your business has been attended to," I give a slight bow and wait further direction, just watching her. Her eyes glow at the sight of our guest. I know She is recalling a past event. It's as if She was a cat, purring, content and waiting for the right time. Then She turns and glances again in our direction, pupils narrow vertical slits. I shiver.

We see Her leave. Our guest is mesmerized by Her. I can tell.

I cough, "I'm sorry; my train of thought was disrupted. Yes, back to our home; our art. The stair- ways holds Japanese prints juxtaposed to 16th and 17th century European etchings. She likes the obvious different approaches to an issue. Aesthetics are de rigueur." Together the sight is beautiful with a concomitant benefit, and I have to laugh to myself, extreme sound deadening. "The choices were Hers, of course."

Please excuse me Miss, I must attend to something. Your room is this way."

I look in as She sleeps in the darkened suite. Who would know from such beauty and grace, this evil? She lures her victims, smiling Her smile. She plays with them. A show, of art, small talk, wine and… Her deed completed, I would clean up.

Why the authorities had not found us is beyond me. We have come this far in time. Maybe Her choices are not those that have family? I do not know how She picks them. I am not privy to those decisions. No one appears to inquire as to missing individuals.

Tonight another full moon. Oh please, make it quick. Have mercy on this young one. No need to torture or play cat and mouse. Just go for the neck. You love the warm blood, the sweetness, the life it provides you. You said so yourself.

Dead weight is dead weight and another hole is to be dug and another tree planted in our little forest. "This must be completed before the rigor sets in. Be quick about it," She always commands. I can hide no thought. I am transparent. I must be careful. Enough of that musing.

I have to laugh, we do have a beautiful garden, vegetables and a tree lined road the branches are a cradle to the front portal. Ages ago, what was once an open field are now hectares, thick and wooded. Funny though, every fall the leaves, the colors are of odd blacks, auburns, reds, browns, and even unnatural shades of yellow appear. We have one that occasionally has a streak of purple. I wonder who that was?

Oh well, my job, my task and my burden. The latest one was heavy. That was an effort. I will sleep well.

"By the way Miss, we dress for dinner. I will see you there. 7 PM. Do not be late! She does not like it."

I wake to the crunch of bone. I can tell, tonight Her approach is different. This one is still very much alive. She like this one in a most special manner. She will be eaten and consumed slowly with marrow sucked from severed bone. The fresh fully mature red cells, the treat. Dining is an art.

Ah yes, my yellow earplugs.

How were we to know, at the beginning of new millennia, that two of our most intriguing mysteries would be solved at the same time. Those who revealed the answers called themselves the ‘Heirs of Atlantis' and introduced themselves to Heads of State as first cousins to humans – and there were often humans in their entourages. These beings insisted that they had reappeared in the surface dweller's world to help humans in our efforts to clean up the Earth's oceans – which had been their home for the last 20,000 years: first as inhabitants of an island chain in the middle of the Atlantic, and then as an underwater empire in the same vicinity.

As an expert in mythologies both ancient and modern, my curiosity could not have been more stoked; I was delighted when a friend from ‘across the pond' proposed an informal meeting to discuss the amazing events of the past year. "I have a surprise", he told me.

The five of us met in a hotel bar, which was our habit. When we were seated comfortably, Marshall rose to his feet, directing our attention to a tall stranger who approached us quickly through the dimness of the elaborate room. Marshall and the pale man clasped hands before the rest of us could come to our feet. "My friends, it is my pleasure to introduce to you one of the Heirs of Atlantis – Berigo of the 7th House."

The five of us were enthralled by our amazing visitor, some offering handshakes while others bowed slightly to acknowledge his presence.

"Please, please, let us sit," insisted the visitor in an accent reminiscent of ancient language groups surrounding the Mediterranean. "I heard of your small gathering through a friend and became eager to meet with such distinguished experts in ancient mysteries." His broad smile revealed the protruding canines which were so much a part of the legend. "Please do not hesitate to ask me anything – this is why I am here tonight. Nothing would make me more happy than to talk with you about my home and the seven Houses of Atlan."

So we began to talk, the six of us, about an Atlantic-rim commercial power that suffered physical destruction. "Millions of us were killed when an asteroid hit our capital city."

"Incredible", I said.

"Sure, sure, sure. Having been born in the middle of the ocean, our nation had always seen to it that our cities were watertight and could survive tsunamis and hurricanes. After the disaster, it took the better part of a century for our inhabitants to dig out of the sediment that covered our watertight cities – which is why we prefer the darkness…there is very little light at the bottom of the ocean."

Only then did I see her in the darkness behind him. Her tiny hand was upon his shoulder now, and he brought it to his lips to kiss it in recognition. She whispered something into Bergio's ear before looking at all of us. As clearly as Bergio was a vampire – this amazing creature was clearly a human.

"Allow me to introduce my symbiot – Merleah."

She was the model from which all women should have been cut. Her thick auburn hair curled about her face before plunging down to her waist. Her eyes were as green as emeralds, her skin softly freckled, and her lips were as red as fresh blood. As she came around to the table, it became obvious that she was pregnant. Immediately the men began to grab chairs so she could be seated.

"You use the term ‘symbiot'," said Marshall. "Could you explain what you mean?"

"Sure, sure, sure. When we made it to land in our vehicles, we found our metabolism had changed. We now took our nourishment in liquid form. We took humans back to Atlantis with us and these humans were bred to be our symbiots – those who supply our need for nourishment, as we supply their needs."

We had all been trained by our academic disciplines to view societal deviation simply as a variant, but Lucinda was obviously outraged. "Isn't what you are describing merely slavery in a disguised form?"

Bergio drew a breath as though to answer the attack, but Merleah answered instead. "I am Bergio's symbiont by choice. Bergio protects me and supplies me with all the luxuries I could possibly imagine." She looked around the table once quickly. She looked at me a second time, longer now. I felt myself falling into her jewel-like eyes, as if the rest of my colleagues and Bergio himself had disappeared.

"Griffin!" I heard Marshall whisper frantically, his voice piercing the mist. "Griffin! Bergio was talking to you!"

"I apologize."

The creature chuckled softly. "She is amazing, isn't she? Her ancestors were bred for their beauty."

"My beauty encourages Bergio to feed deeply – so he remains healthy."

The seven of us sat for hours. Each time Merleah spoke, I fell deeper in lust with her than I had ever imaged possible, so I was delighted when she sent a message through the desk clerk to meet her privately – so we could talk.

When I got to her room there was barely enough time to shut the door before she was in my arms and naked on the bed. My desires were so strong that I hardly realized her moans weren't those of ecstasy, but of pain. I barely backed off the bed in time and said, "Your baby's head is beginning to crown."

"He must have smelled dinner," she laughed.

Suddenly Bergio was in back of me, his hand on my shoulder. "How wonderful, you found us a midwife." He pinched my spinal column and I fell to my knees – paralyzed. The baby had clawed his way out now – and it smiled, revealing its sharp, pointed teeth. The last thing I remember was the infant leaping from the bed to the floor, his claws ripping into my chest.