Dracmir | Linhue | Murdoc
Things had been too quiet in his mansion, Dracmir decided one evening while enjoying a bite from his lovely wife. Perhaps he was growing tired of her taste? Maybe her screams were getting duller as she became accustomed to the pain he inflicted on her. Or maybe it was something else, a lack of pleasurable company with someone who shared his tastes? Regardless, it caused Linhue's blood to taste sour in his mouth. Without a sound, he threw the glass against the wall next to her, the shattering glass and splashing blood causing her to flinch and whimper pathetically. "Shut up!" He snarled savagely, and she quickly pressed her lips together to muffle the sound of her crying.
Linhue had learned that any time Dracmir was displeased she was going to be hurt. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to brace for pain- though she didn't know where it would come from or what he would do. She never did, and that was part of the reason her mind was breaking. The red liquid ran down the wall and for a brief moment, Dracmir entertained the idea of making her lick it up while he fucked her amid the shards of glass. But no, even that lacked appeal. He stormed out of her dungeon room and motioned for Murdoc to go to her as he passed.
The creature was close to being a ghoul, though Dracmir had used his most secret arts to keep him just sentient and alive enough that the paragon would remember his feelings for the female lucain. It had taken some time, but Dracmir was finally bored with the cruelty he'd inflicted on the already doomed couple. Not only could they never have had a family together without Dracmir's interference, but now Murdoc wasn't alive to consummate any relationship with anyone. On top of that, his free will was gone. His every action was dictated by the nosferatu king, Dracmir and he was only allowed to touch Linhue whenever and however his master commanded. And of course, Dracmir forced the younger man to be rough with Linhue. Forbade him from saying any comforting words, only allowed him to be an emotionless beast that tended Linhue's wounds and forced her to eat. All of this while Murdoc was aware of what he was doing, imprisoned in a puppet and forced to watch every horrible and callous thing he did to the girl he loved more than life itself.
While Murdoc tended to Linhue, Dracmir returned to his study where he began to dig through his contacts. In all of Evelon, he had heard of one particular lady gifted in the arts of torture. When he had heard about her, he had filed her name away almost lovingly, hoping for a day he could meet this temptress of pain and misery. Today would be that day, he thought as he looked at the name on the card. A twisted grin split his face, his large fangs dripping with saliva as he thought of all the sweet music they would wring from Linhue together before retiring to his private bed chamber to wring what pain and misery they could from each other. Or so he hoped, he reminded himself he shouldn't get too excited. There was no promise the lady in question would even come to him, let alone wish to make such horrible painful hatred with him.
He summoned one of his messengers and wrote a well phrased letter of invitation. With a flourish, he wrote her name on the scroll and handed it to the vampiric Morloth before sending it on it's way. He sat back in his chair, examining the name on the card in his hand.
Zealotte