• A World Dyed Crimson:Bonus Segment
    If Only...

    "Come, darling, do try and hurry, for we have some very special guests tonight." Belen scowled at her vague older sister, Belladonna. "I have loads of time, sis, and I guarantee you that I would be ready a lot faster if you weren't sitting there watching me! You know that I'm shy!" The older girl, seeming to be in her early 20's, chuckled. "Yes, I know that quite well, love, but if I am not here, then who, I ask, would fasten your corset?"

    Belen turned bright red. She wasn't used to having to wear a corset, and was just a tad embarrassed about her maturing body, and Belladonna was making it a lot worse. "Come on, Bella, you're the one who's used to wearing these. I just can't do it! It's way to tight on me and I can hardly breathe!" The young Contessa smiled warmly at her little successor, and wrapped her arms around her small, delicate figure.

    Suddenly, a bearded man entered the room, swooning and singing some untranslatable song, red in the face. The drunk whirled around suddenly and swooned even more. "C'mere, dahling, how I do loooove the gal on gal action hereabouts, but I daresay it would work better with the right pahts!" Belen leaped onto the very edge of the crimson covered four-poster, fearing for her life, but she had no means to, as Belladonna was on the case immediately. "Ah, Maverick...how good it is to see you...I do not suppose that you are aware of our dear Adrianna's arrival?" The red faced man gasped, a sound kind of like a dying whale in his drunkenness, and ran unsteadily through the room, slamming the door behind him.

    The Contessa turned to Belen and smiled at her yet again, lifting her gently into her arms and set her onto the crimson silk comforter. "I...I hate this family," Belen sobbed, trembling from head to foot. "They're nothing but a bunch of sad drunk sons of swine! I want out, sis! I want to leave!" Belladonna wore a look of deepest understanding on her beautiful face and gathered the small teenager into her slender arms, holding her to her bosom gently, and yet tightly, protectively, at the same time. She buried her brunette head into Belen's shoulder and kissed her beloved sister on the neck many times before lying back onto the silken throw pillows.

    "Do not fear them, mi vida, they are quite harmless to their own kind. I am sure-" Belen cut her off angrily.

    "Do you really expect me to believe that, Bella? I've seen with these two cursed eyes what they do to their own kind, and it is anything but harmless!" She buried her red, tear stained face into her hands, trying to suppress the sobs that were defying her.

    Belladonna looked to her sister sympathetically and stroked Belen's long black hair, sighing deeply. "I would give anything...if they were not so cruel...I fear their comeuppance..." Belen stared up at her older sister, her mentor, her idol, and wondered what she could possibly mean. Unbeknown to the young, defiant heiress,(which would bring her fame later on) there was much more truth to what her sister foretold than she could possibly imagine.

    "But they are, Bella! What made them like that?! Why do we have to suffer for their miscreant behavior?" The elder Dracula girl sighed and gave her sister a tender kiss on the temple, stood up gracefully, and patted Belen's leg. "Come, darling, tonight awaits us."
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    Belen eyed her father, the Count, skeptically, as she slowly raised the ming tea cup to her pale lips. He was making merry, yelling out to the crowd of the clan, laughing heartily, food spewing from his open jaws, disgusting her deeply. She was being forced to watch as they tortured countless innocent lives for their crazed pleasure.

    Right as she was getting quite nearly angry enough to blow, she felt a soft, warm, and welcome hand on her thigh. Belladonna was looking at her in the way that she could not describe, in a way that only Belladonna could, that beautiful smile, that smile that persuaded Belen to keep breathing, although she knew full well that it would be much less painful just to cease altogether.

    The Contessa seemed to read her mind, however, and pulled Belen into her bosom, seeming to believe that if she kept her close, there was less of a risk of suicide. And yet, Belen wasn't totally against her sister's habit, it was actually sort of nice, other than the overprotective part. She started to lean back into Belladonna's arms, but sneezed violently instead. Her sister smiled and gave her a little squeeze. "Bless you, my love. Perhaps you are catching ill?"

    Belen rolled her eyes at Belladonna and crossed her arms to her slightly lacking chest, which seemed to amuse her sister deeply. Eventually, she gave up trying to put, as all it seemed to accomplish was entertainment for the Contessa, and finally leaned back into the warm arms of her sister, but that beautiful feeling soon left her, replaced by a cold burst of wind.

    A strange looking man stood in the doorway, his hooded cloak casting a forlorn shadow over the area where his face should have been. As he approached the Count, she noticed that, while his looks portrayed a feeble inner, he walked with a strength that she had never known. She feared this man.

    "Clan Dracula! You and your people must stop these horrific murders and horrific events! You are an unholy race, the race of Satan, the sons and daughters of the devil himself! For your bloodthirsty ways, I condemn you to suffer under these ways, forever! You shall live on blood, fearing the day and grow the fangs of a bat. The unholy Dracula clan will suffer!"

    The world was spinning before Belen so quickly that she wanted to retch, but there wasn't enough air for her to succumb to. So quickly, nimbly, she made her way to the small end table just behind the crimson sofa. Unthinking, she opened a small drawer, and in less than a second made the decision that had been haunting her for so many moons now.

    In one move, the deed was done. Belen smiled as she took in the world around her, smiled as she watched the clan Dracula succumb to the horrible fate that she would never endure, certainly not now. She felt so free, like she was on top of the world...and nothing could bring her down...not anymore.
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    "SHE'S DEAD!!!! You killed my sister, you son of a b***h!" Belladonna launched herself at the holy man, clawing at the air as her father held her back. "I'll kill you! I swear, if it's the last thing I do, if it's the last word I breathe, you'll be sorry! I'll make you sorry! Burn in hell, you b*****d!!!!" The Contessa had lost all control of herself, all traces of elegance and grandeur vanished as she mourned her sister, driven mad by grief.

    Immune to all of this ruckus, of all of the laughter of her accursed relatives, of Belladonna's unsustainable sorrow, the younger girl, the heir to Belladonna's title, lay in a heap on the floor, blood spewing from her chest unceasingly, and beside her, there lay a bloody dagger, inscribed with the latin words 'Si Solamente…'









    If only...