Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

Choreographer: Emrys

Mr. Migs as Vladamir Korvachoff

A dense fog hid the last of the Vampiric race as they watched and waited. Vladamir stared at his father’s headstone with Alexandra stabbed, blade-first, into the ground next to him. He heard a loud thud, and then a grown followed by, “Stupid Fox.” Vladamir turned around upon recognizing the voice and charged tackling Dracula before he could finish regaining his footing. Dracula regained his footing anyway and tried to kick Vladamir off but failed as the two rolled to the ground. Vladamir, gaining what he thought was the upperhand, ended up on top of Dracula & proceeded to punch his face again and again with rage flowing through every strike. Dracula, with a slight grin, raised his knee and slammed it into Vlad’s groin area.  Kicks, punches, and sweeps between the two went on for what felt hours. Dracula swung, with great intensity, a blow to Vladamir’s side. Vlad countered by shoulder slamming Dracula back down to the ground, but Dracula countered finally throwing Vladamir off, “what the Hell did I do to you? So much anger.” Vladamir said nothing as he grabbed at Dracula’s ankle after a roundhouse kick Dracula landed. But then Dracula proceeded to flawlessly sweep Vladamir with the remaining leg. “Why?” Dracula said as he stomped down hard where Vladamir’s head lay, but Vladamir had rolled just in time and made a successful sweep of his own. “Ha! Now I really want to know,” exclaimed Dracula as he dodged. He circled clockwise around Vladamir, allowing him to return to his feet. “Come on now, out with it,” He taunted with a toothy grin. “What did I do to invoke such rage from you?”

“The Archangel Michael,” Vladamir replied.

“And?? “ Dracula gestured with his hand, ” what about him?” responding moments before faking left, then coming in at Vladamir from the right. Vladamir close the distance with fluctuations in his speed, before unleashing a flurry of punches. Dracula blocked every strike. “Ah yes, I killed him. Yes, that is right. Why? Were the two of you close or something?”

“He was my father,” Vladamir responed as he angrily increased the speed and power of his punches which Dracula was still blocking.

Then Dracula caught Vladamir’s fist and twisted it before punching Vladamir in the face repeatedly. “Half Archangel, huh? I would think you’d be stronger,” Dracula taunted. Vladamir could only maintain a sloppy block with just one hand free. With a roundhouse kick to the hip Vladamir released his fist from Dracula’s hold. As Dracula jumped back far enough with intent to pounce, Vladamir timed his dodge and countered with a punch to Dracula’s back. Dracula attempted to sweep Vladamir’s legs, but Vladamir dodged before taking an uppercut to the face. He caught himself, but was immediatly kicked in the gut. As he crumbled slighly downward Dracula elbowed him in the back and put a foot on him. “I didn’t just kill your father,” he pushed down hard on Vladamir’s chest, “I drank him.” Dracula caught a sloppily thown fist from Vladamir and pulled him up into a chokehold from behind, “His soul was delicious.” Vladamir slammed the back of his head into Dracula’s jaw. Dracula just laughed, “Pathet…” before Dracula could finish the word, Vladmair spread his wings, which had previously viewed as his jacket. Majestic grey feathers unfurrelled with blood red tips eminating both darkness and light at the same time. With all his strength Dracula could not overpower Vladamir’s wings as they launched him backward. Vladamir’s wings slowly became his jacket again as he allowed Dracula to regain his footing. He wanted to beat Dracula without them. “We will be at this all eternity,” said Dracula. Vladamir cracked his neck and knuckles. “Are you done yet?” Vladamir retorted. He lunged in for a high speed charge punch that Dracula caught but Vladamir combo’d with an instant kick. Realling back, Dracula flails his fist for a punch that Vladamir barely blocks and counters with a sliding kick that Dracula catches. Using Dracula’s hold on his leg as a launch point, Vladamir delivers a powerful kick to Dracula’s head with his other foot putting Dracula on the ground again.

Vladamir began to stand up, his mind still filled with rage. “not yet!” interrupting his own thoughts, “He deserves to suffer longer for what he as done.”

“Destroy him now!” argued a beautiful yet absolute voice also from within, “if he escapes he poses a threat to the entire multiverse.”

“He doesn’t deserve Death. He has left you alone in this multiverse, no mother no father,” countered the smooth and slithering voice. “Death is too good for him, he should be left to anguish for eternity.”

“Time is fleeting, he is returning to his feet,” said the beautiful and absolute voice.

“Vladamir!,” Alexandra called to her wielder and he snapped out of his internal arguement just as Dracula came in with a heavy downward punch that Vladamir barely escaped. The force from Dracula’s fist inpacting the ground left a crater and sent Vladamir flying only to land next to Alexandra. With a roll on the landing Vladamir grabbed Alexandra by her hilt and swung her just intime to cut of Dracula’s right arm and then the left. “Impale him,” Alexandra instructed. “It is the only way.”

Vladamir thrust Alexandra through Dracula’s heart for good measure and watched as Dracula’s eyes grew wide with the sudden realization of his own defeat, “For my father,” Vladamir said softly, “And all others you have corrupted.”

There are many ways to vocalize one’s disbelief, Dracula shouted every single one of them. He was slowly and painfully consumed by the Wyyvern bastard sword of Vampirism until nothing of him remained. Valdamir fell to his knees by his father’s grave, leaning on Alexandra, and wept.

*          *

In a tower of Heaven that does not exist, Zesrial awoke to Edward, in his mortal form, nuzzling her. “Good morning,” Edward yawned.

“Good morning,” Stu replied, “don’t get up.” He handed Edward a cup of coffee.

“What do you want?” Zesrial had become irritated by Stu’s unannounced visitation of her throne room.

“Congratulations,” replied Stu, “you are both Gods of Gods.”

“I’m a God? How?” Edward asked.

“Only when you are mortal,” Stu replied, “and that throne is how,” he pointed to the throne they were cuddled up on.

“You said Gods of Gods,” Zesrial realized. “Do you mean?”

“I did,” Stu replied, “and I do, but you will have to prove that.” He handed them each a white envelope.

“Prove to whom?” Zesrial asked, but Stu was already gone. As she opened her envelope, “You have been invited to…” She screamed with excitement instead of reading the final two words.