Tragedy of Astinos 9

Three years go by, time is nothing to those of the immortal race; Astinos was long gone, all that remained was Vladimir. Dracula had been slowly building his empire, taking sections of London individually starting from smallest towns to the cities. Resistance was present but they were both scarce and their forces were too spread out and clearly outmatched thanks to the exploits of "Vladimir the Infernal". Soldiers, officers, and resistant fighters alike all feared him, a renowned menace, Dracula's personal champion. Of course one would think that after all this time serving him, that he would be able to be with Kennedy, but Dracula has done his best to keep them away from each other, both the inner and the outer part of London have been taken over by the menacing demon and the followers he's managed to amass over the years. London looks as a dilapidated wasteland of macabre and darkness made possible by the efforts of the king of evil himself.

December 23, 1903, midnight; Vladimir usually stalks the night for soldiers led astray in the forest, but tonight he stands alone, perched on a cliff still as a statue. Vladimir, who's skin is now as pale as the full moon, glares over the final area of rebellion, It has been named Final District due to its precarious state in the battle for London's fate. His silver hair is tied back in a restricting ponytail dressed in a black ribbon with blood red eyes he looks at the unsuspecting citizens below. As one of Dracula's top men, he wore royal garb, clothing that separated him from the rest of the lower Vampir; his attire consisted of a long black cloak that beheld the mystic abilityto shield him from bullets and the scent of garlic, under this he wore a black tuxedo, with gold trimming at the cuffs of his sleeves and and the tip of his shoes. While his attire seemed like noting more than a formal suit it indeed had many features, for instance his undershirt could repel all basic spikes and daggers. Vladimir was the ultimate vampire who held none of the typical vampiric weaknesses, he was the only vampire other than Dracula who could withstand the daylight only for a few hours however, even so, his many abilities made up for that.
Silence, suddenly Vladimir's concentration is interrupted by two dogs fighting over a piece of meat on the street, he looks at the dogs, actually one resembles a past friend, with his interests high he descends to the street. The two dogs fighting are apparently strays, but he recognized one of them, as he came in closer on the two, one dog looked at him and ran away while the other stayed and stared at Vladimir, the dog took slow steps toward him. Vladimir reached his hand out tho the dog who at first backed away but in a moment became familiar with him, Vladimir looked closer at the dog and spoke.
"Dog?" He said softly. The dog didn't respond, Vladimir then noticed a bat flying over them, he spoke again. "Dracula II..?" The dog barked, giving him some kind of confirmation on his guess. This was Kennedy's dog! Vladimir didn't know if he should be happy or if he should kill the dog since it reminded him of his past life, Dracula II had grown into a scraggly black lab, scraggly due to his lack of nutrition no doubt, in any event he had lived on his own for these years and considering that they left him as a pup that's an accomplishment. In the distance of the alley Vladimir heard a violent snarl, but this didn't sound like a domestic animal more like that of a beast, a vicious one. The sound came from the shadows, he approached it, then from the shadows came an 8 foot beast standing on it's hind legs, foaming at the mouth, it continued to growl at Vladimir.
"Blast, a werewolf." He thought. Surprisingly the beast didn't attack, rather, it just showed hate toward him. What' s strange about this beast is the fact that it looked so familiar, it's mane was long, black and rich. It was a more civilized type of lycanthrope in that it's appearance wasn't as savage as the regular ones. The werewolf stopped growling and out stepped a hooded figure, Vladimir readied himself, the person removed the hood. It was a woman, but who? Dracula II growled at her.
"Vous avez change." She spoke. Vladimir squinted his eyes, the girl was starkly familiar, pale skin; illuminated by the bare moon her hair was golden but dimmed in the night's light conversely her blue eyes shone brightly.
"Who are you!" He yelled in apprehensiveness and took a step toward her, the werewolf growled. The woman signaled him down.
"Vous ne vous rappelez pas me?" She added. Vladimir was quickly angered.
"Do not speak to me in your foreign tongue wench!" Vladimir shouted. He then turned his back and began to walk away.
"Tell my mother I said hello." She said. Vladimir stopped. He turned around.
"What...?" He queried. She smiled softly.
"You look different, what has happened, you've changed." The woman commented.
"I don't know if you have the right person woman, but I assure you I am no one you've ever known, I try not to associate myself with those who have Lycanthropes as their shadow." Vladimir noted.
"Well then why did you stop when I mentioned my mother?" She queried. Vladimir looked into space for his answer, but had none.
"I thought you were someone else." He said as he turned to walk away.
"You wouldn't know who I was anyway, considering that you're not the person I thought you were." She added. Vladimir quickly turned and walked back to her swiftly.
"Exactly! You're right, therefore you couldn't be anyone to me because as you said I am not the person you thought I was. In fact, considering that you are staring into the eyes of Dracula's most feared Commandant, I am shocked that you've managed to retain your composure!" He said at once. The Werewolf then growled. "Oh, right, of course; now I see where your fortitude is placed, in the bloodthirsty fangs of some savage relic who has no sense just instinct. Inconceivable how someone such as yourself; a fragile young woman who would or could even fathom to trust the loyalty of this cold-blooded creature of vice." Vladimir said, he sounded upset as if there was a reason behind that particular reaction.
"And what exactly do you call yourself? What pride you must have for one such as yourself, a vampire, to stand in judgment  and scrutinize a creature who share so many common ground with you and your band of night stalkers. Why the only thing that separates your kind from theirs is that fact that they have more hair." She defended.
"And a snout!" Vladimir added quickly. The werewolf snapped at him, while Dracula II growled in defense of Vladimir, the woman noticed the dog.
"Is that animal of significance to you?" She asked, Vladimir looked at Dracula II.
"I just found him...he was a stray." He answered. The woman smiled. "Something funny?" He asked with a stern face.
"I find it amazing that you will deny anything from your past life...are you that ashamed? She asked. He said nothing. "Of course, that must be it, you are ashamed." She assumed. He quickly grabbed her neck, the werewolf took the offensive but the woman glanced at him to stand down, Vladimir tightened his grip, she just looked at him, no expression.
"Witch! You know NOTHING about me!" He shouted, his fangs showed. The woman began to smile. "You continue to believe that I am this person but I am not I assure you, another thing I assure, the next time you accost me over these accusations of being this man...you will see that I most certainly AM NOT!" He said with anger. He loosened his grip but he did not let go, she looked into his eyes.
"I can bet that you try really hard not to show those fangs..that's what he would do if he were a Vampire." The mysterious woman concluded.
"MY NAME IS VLADIMIR!! I am NOT ASTINOS!!" He shouted. He then let go of her neck and jumped into the sky, gone. Dracula II whimpered, but the woman comforted him.
"it's ok....we'll get him back for you...come." She said as she patted him. She, Dracula II and her werewolf guardian walked on into the night.

Meanwhile, in the inner most parts of Central London, underneath the Council Hall, lies a faction of resistance fighters, gathering together apparently to discuss plans to take back the city. The mob is loud and quarrelsome over what should be their next course of action when suddenly a man came from out the crowd with his hand held high signaling the silence of the assembly. There was a hush over the lot, the man was middle-aged, in his 30s perhaps, broad shoulders and proud posture. His hair was cut and cropped,brown, although messy it was appropriate, his face; subtle facial hair that only covered his upper lip and chin which was almost entirely squared. He had thick eyebrows and dark brown eyes, his skin was fair but clearly weathered by war, battle scars throughout, thin lips that only consisted of one type of grin, a mean one. His overall appearance was that of a belligerent war veteran but his age presumed he'd probably seen only a few battles, nonetheless this man was respected by all. He wore the traditional soldier redcoat but this was specially customized to his doing, the tail was longer as he had stitched an extra layer the two fabrics didn't match but the idea that they were both red was there. He was heavily equipped and yet he still had weapons hidden, his pants weren't so traditional, the trousers were black, they too looked custom made though, knives and stakes strapped to his legs for quick undertakings of his vampiric foes. He looked upon the silenced fighters and began.
"Before me stands the final hope of London, with the combined efforts of each of you we can take the city back from the death-gripped clutches of Dracula and his bloodthirsty subjects, we've stood by and let these creatures infest our city, infect our spouses, our children, our friends. I've shot down some of my closest allies because of this black possession, it ends here!" The man said. the crowd cheered, he continued. "Just three years ago, Dracula was nothing but a myth, conceived by crazed explorers and traders, believed to be a symptom of hallucinations due to fatigue and hunger, but this--this being, if you will was and always has been real; and our idle behavior in the past worked in his favor until now he has come from out the shadows and forced us to hide in them. He offers companionship, a place at his side, a union with him....all of which will require your mortal soul as the trade-off, this is no fair deal, for we lose everything and he gets another drone for his army of darkness; we must come together and fight this monster tainting our minds, and drive a spike filled with holiness through his damned heart of iniquity! We must purge the bodies of our beloved from the crooked fingers of despair and honor them with a proper burial! We will redeem London yet brethren!!" He shouted, the crowd gave a hearty cheer and raised their muskets in honor of this man. The crowd chanted his name "Astinos! Astinos!" He kept his stern face and walked off the podium.