The dark times were over! The horrid vampires and their risen puppets had been crushed by those who had stayed behind! These two sentences were being spread to the Anglish nobles and clergy who had fled into exile as their country descended into the terrible clutches of the unliving, and soon the words were backed up by those from other Anglish nobles who had risked their lives to travel back and report on the situation.

The situation was dire indeed. Many nobles and their families had fallen, the king and his family was nowhere to be found, and the leaders of the guilds were either dead or missing in action. Despite the serious cause for concern regarding the direction the battered country would take, those who returned to Anglond did so knowing that they now had a chance to grow what land they once possessed into something even grander. Those with even the slightest drop of royal blood eyed each other with suspicion and concern, for who among them would be the one to take the spot of the likely deceased royal and ducal families?

The returning nobles were told that a very young, handsome and enterprising man who had risen up from being an adventurer to become the young master of an up-and-coming noble house had secured a luxurious estate and would let the nobles live there until they could secure their domains. Gathered in the former estate of a Lord Joster, the nobles spent the next few weeks without cares as they wined and dined and struck and broke alliances. Decadence and hedonism were the bread and butter of this gathering. It was a place where wine flowed like a river and food was squandered in excess. The star of the show was the blonde, handsome young man in a fabulous ensemble, his top hat and feathered cape giving him both a sense of class and mystery.

The young nobleman seemed both down-to-earth and aloof, switching between various manners of speech and behavior as he made repeated circuits around the sprawling estate. Noblewomen fell for him in droves and noblemen could not help but admire the masculine charm and aura of sophistication that he had about him. His flawless features and perfect behavior made some question the truth behind his origin story, but these suspicions were swept aside with a few honeyed words from the charismatic young man.

And so, the party continued. It lasted long after it was supposed to end. Weeks turned into months as the guests wined and dined and new guests arrived and mingled with the guests who had come before. Soon, secrets flowed as freely as the wine did, and the guards of the majority of the guests were practically non-existent. The party raged on, and though some guests vanished under mysterious circumstances, the rest could care less.

…

Boring.

Dull.

Droll.

A horrible waste of his precious and yet infinite time.

These and more were the thoughts that filled the undead mind of a certain House Founder as he made another circuit through the estate. Followed by throngs of insignificant gnats dressed in undeserved finery and caked in excessive amounts of makeup, the man under the alias of Diego Oppenheimer Branton-Joster kept a fake smile on his face and honeyed words on his tongue as he chatted it up with groups of noblemen.

“The same old tiresome secrets told over and over like they were as precious as the color of The Primogenitor’s favorite pair of knickers. Do these monkeys honestly believe the lies I have heaped upon them, or are they simply too foolish to investigate the truth on their own? It was beyond pitiful, the simplicity of these mortals. The ease in which magic and subliminal messaging convinced them that time had passed, and events had transpired when they clearly had not was beyond ludicrous! The ‘Month’ is nearly over, but the night never ended. *Chuckle* these lesser beings have no idea what they are in for….”

As Dion O. Brandou/ Diego O. Branton-Joster walked around the large and twisting hedge maze that made up the eastern garden, he sped up a bit so as to lose the hordes of female monkeys that were trying to follow him. He picked up just enough speed to look like he was speed walking, but as soon as the pests were no longer able to see him, he bolted away at speeds only a vampire could match. Once he was fully rid of the pesky and clingy women, he took to the air and shrouded himself in an invisibility spell.

“Ah, the sight of the world rightfully as it is! The maggots that infest my glorious estate crawling around like they own the place, ugh, it makes me sick!”

Dion climbed higher until the estate was but a speck on the ground. Surrounded by clouds, he flew even higher until he had once again entered the clear and dark night sky.

“The moon is beautiful tonight. Just one more day. Just one more day until the night upon which our Goddess shall bestow her glorious Gift upon the insufferable insects that squirm like the parasites they are in my glorious estate! How I wish they were not there, defiling the glorious gift given to me by the Two Gods of The World and All Within it!”

Dion gazed down at the sight of his great gift from the Gods being defiled for what they believed was the fifth month straight, but was actually only the third day, by the insufferable human scumbags whose decadence and hedonism forced his true servants to clean constantly.

“WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Dion screamed in anger and annoyance as he dug his now razor-sharp nails into the flesh of his face. He tore and scratched himself over and over as bits of blood and skin fell through the air towards the ground. He prepared to dig his claws into the side of his skull but was frozen in place both by Space-Time Magic leagues above his own master and an aura of dark majesty that eclipsed all other vampires.

“Kuh!”

Dion forced every bit of magic in his body to attempt to fight against the spell that had frozen the universe. As much as he struggled, there would have been even the slightest chance if the one stopping time was another House Founder, such as the master of the arcane, Alec Nefarius. But there was no such chance, as the one behind him and the one who had ground the universe to a chilling standstill was none other than the Crimson Empress herself.

“Now, now, my dear little Dion. What have I told you about how anger issues make for poor traits for puppet-masters?”

“Y-your highness…! I….!”

Dion heard a sweet laugh from directly behind him and saw the hand of his goddess reach from behind his head and playfully stroke his face.

“My child, I too know how painful and enraging this all is. To have such parasites infest one of our places of power is so very…”

The air in the stopped time fell to a chill that even Dion not fully endure. Dion trembled in fear as Alexis’ hand began to take on a more twisted shape as the rage building inside his Goddess began to affect her physical appearance.

“…aggravating….”

“But! But there are only at most 24 more hours! And you and Lord Kain were the ones to…!”

“Ssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……”

One of partially transformed Alexis’ oversized and inhuman talons traced a pattern on Dion’s cheek as she emanated an inhuman shushing sound. When she began to speak again, her voice was chittering, guttural and twisted, like the mixing of an exponentially larger female version of Grathe with a horrific insect.

“I know what you were going to say. I know this is partially our fault. I know we have no one but ourselves to blame for this travesty. And I fully accept that. Thus, my little Dion, if I can accept that some sacrifices must be made to further the goals of our nation, so should you. We all must do things we don’t like for the benefit of the whole, so don’t throw a tantrum.”

As Alexis’ twisted hand pulled back behind Dion, time once again began to move.

“Look at me.”

Alexis’ voice was back to the sweet and seductive voice of her purely human form, and thus Dion no longer had the fear of a final death that her monstrous form forced upon him. He turned around in mid air and gazed upon the physical perfection of the female form that was the Goddess.

“If you really want to vent your rage, then just be patient until the rats taste the new vintage. I am sure there will be some vermin that need disposing of, even after the feast is well underway.”

Alexis let out a haunting and cruel laugh, one that Dion nervously added to as he thought to himself about what was to come tomorrow night.

“The parasites will become more like they truly are soon enough, won’t they? From monkeys to mosquitos, from apes to ticks… I guess that is quite humorous.”

The nobles below still wallowed in the master crafted delusion that House Brandou had constructed for them. They had never managed to flee to exile. No one had. They never left Anglond, and they never would as humans. Come the next night, the feast would begin, the mirror would shatter, the sleepers would wake, and the mortals who had lived a waking dream for the past few days would come to experience one final nightmare as the mask fell.

The Month of Long Fangs was to end upon the next night and would, in its climax, create a monstrosity that even the 1000 Heroes had a tough time defeating. As the swamps surrounding the estate were held back by the vampiric magic, the drone of hundreds of millions of mosquitos sounded out into the darkness. It was an omen of what was to come.