You Rejected Me. Remember?

Draven was chained to the wall in the mental asylum. Strong, metal chains were bound to his arms and legs, forbidding him from making any movements. In addition to that, he was locked up in a special compartment that was specially made to confine uncontrollable patients. It felt more like a cage to him. It was as though he was caged, just like his slaves. The only difference was, no one tried to torture him or feed from him. He was put into the special room only because he was stubborn and rebellious.

He was furious nonetheless. Not only because he was locked up, but because his plans were completely ruined. Also, he felt humiliated, since he was being locked up exactly like a lowly slave. Tugging at the chains, he screamed. “Let me out of this hell!”

His voice reverberated in the empty hallways. It wasn’t a jail, however, being in the mental asylum felt like being locked up in the dungeon to Draven. Or perhaps, it was worse than that. Here, the doctors and nurses force him to take medicines and administer various injections to him. All of that, in addition to the therapist who speaks nonsense every evening. To him, they were nothing short of torture.

The only thing refinement was the place was clean, unlike the dungeon. The walls and floor were tiled with pure white tiles giving the place an unpolluted look. However, it brought discomfort to Draven’s heart. He hated every bit of it. He hated everything that was related to it. Even the colour white.

“You’ll pay for this! I swear I’ll make you all regret what you are doing to me!” He screamed, however, there was not a single soul who took his threats seriously. Growling in anger, he pulled at the chains with all his might. However, the place was built in such a way that the mighty strength of a vampire could do no damage to the structure. The chains were made using an alloy of Gold, Silver and steel, which was fortified by magic – the vampires had gotten help from the wizard King when they built the mental asylum and the dungeon since they knew the buildings needed to withstand their supernatural strength. And since Draven was a royal with the power of telekinesis, they had to place him in a special cell that could inhibit his ability.

“f**k this!” He hissed and threw away the plate of food they had brought for him in the evening. He had no desire to eat. The therapist, or the torturer as Draven prefered to call him, would soon arrive.

Sneering, he rested his back against the wall. He bent his knees and placed his hands on them. He was tiring himself out. His shouts and demands fell on deaf ears. Hence, he started to think that he should play along so that he could find a way to escape.

Time passed. Although his anger didn’t reside, he stopped screaming. Instead, he started to think of a good way to try and get out of the place. He was still fuming when his therapist arrived. Draven heard his footsteps, however, he didn’t look up. He remained like that, with his head resting on the back of his hand, ignoring his visitor.

His therapist studied Draven’s demeanour while staying outside the locked bars of the room. Draven wasn’t thrashing and throwing insults at him like he usually did. Tonight, he wasn’t even looking at him. He was simply ignoring him.

Sighing, he put his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“Your Highness,” he spoke, studying any changes his demeanour portrayed.

Draven scowled and didn’t reply.

“How are you feeling,” the therapist carefully asked.

His question made Draven snicker.

“Feeling? How am I feeling?” He laughed at his misery, as he slowly lifted his head. “How the f**k would you feel if you were locked up and chained to the wall like this? Not happy, I suppose,” he laughed.

“So don’t expect me to be excited in this hell hole,” Draven glared at the therapist, who pursed his lips.

“We wouldn’t have locked you up if you cooperated with us, Your Majesty,” he humbly replied.

“We want to help you, Your Highness, please….” He looked into Draven’s face. He was a qualified and experienced psychologist, however, Draven’s unfriendly stare made him shudder.

“What can we do to make you feel better?” He spoke as carefully as he could.

Throwing his head back, he let out a peal of humourless laughter.

“Better? Make me feel better? Let’s see,” grinning like the maniac he was, he tapped his chin dramatically.

“Oh, yeah. I don’t have anything that could give anyone pleasure. When was the last time you all brought b***d for me to drink? This isn’t the dungeon, I demand b***d!” He growled.

“B***d…right. we can provide you with packed b***d packets….” The therapist trailed off. Draven had denied it the first time they offered it to him. He was used to drinking fresh b***d, hot off the source. So he rejected the b***d packets they gave.

Sighing, Draven shrugged his shoulders. “Well, that’s better than nothing,” he mumbled.

A smile stretched the psychologist’s lips.

“That’s great! I’ll ask the nurses to arrange it for you,” he happily replied. He was delighted that Draven had finally conversed with him in some form.

When the therapist walked away, Draven leaned against the wall and breathed out a huge sigh.

“Assholes,” he grumbled in fury. It has been more than a week since he was locked up in the mental asylum and each day was the worst.

He watched as the nurses arrived with b***d packets, accompanied by the security. He held back a chuckle. Their timid actions were amusing to him. They were, without a doubt, nervous as they opened the locked gate and placed the b***d packets beside him.

“Finally!” He wheezed as he lunged forward to pick one packet. He opened it and gulped it down. The packed drink tasted a little bitter. It wasn’t as good as the fresh b***d he had drunk from his slaves, however, it did quench his thirst.

“So much better,” he muttered, wiping away the corners of his lips. The nurses stared at him, stupefied. Seeing someone drinking b***d wasn’t new to them, however, this was the first time they had seen anyone down a whole packet in one go.

Rolling his eyes, Draven shrugged his shoulders.

“What? I’m a vampire who has been starving for a week. The food you bring isn’t enough to fulfil my diet. Where do you think I’ll get my vitamin D, huh? Did you think about that? No! You only think about yourselves!” He hissed at them.

His angry stare gave them the creeps. They were glad that they were in an area where none of them could use their powers. They looked at each other and walked away, without replying to him. They all knew that he was the one who didn’t accept the packed b***d earlier. In fact, he had once tried to attack one of their colleagues and that was when they knew he had to be restrained.

“That’s right! Leave! You don’t know what to say anyway!” He screamed at them as they hurried to leave the crazy vampire prince behind. At least he was still locked up and in chains, that could only mean that he wouldn’t be able to harm them as long as he was behind those bars.

“It’s useless,” grimacing, he rested his head against the pure white wall and closed his eyes.

As time passed, his determination to get his revenge strengthened.

“I’ll roast them alive,” he sneered. “And my father is not an exception…” he was seething as he hissed under his breath.

Being seated in the same position for a long time was becoming painful for him. His body ached and he felt the need to stretch his limbs. The night deepened. Draven was bored and at the same time furious. Yet, he knew no one would care to entertain him.

He was about to rest his eyes when he felt something nudge in his mind. Frowning, he focused on it.

“Sire?”

This time he heard it loud and clear. A sinister smile spread across Draven’s face. That must be one of his faithful men. It looked like the cell fortified with magic wasn’t enough to inhibit the link he had formed with the rogues. No, his coven members.

“Yes, I’m here,” he replied through the link.

“Finally, we were worried that we might never be able to find you, Your Highness,” it was Polanski who spoke.

“Polanski, you made it,” smirking, Draven mumbled.

“Yes, Your Majesty. The war had scattered us but now we are gathering in the outskirts of the territory. We are still waiting for more of us. Right now, there are more than 500 men in our army. We have managed to gain the sympathy of other rogues who had refused to join us earlier and more are still joining us,” Polanski informed him.

For the first time since he was arrested, Draven’s eyes started to glimmer in excitement.

“Excellent! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me,” Draven chuckled.

“One more thing, Your Highness. The potion we had in the pack?” Polanski reminded him.

“Yes?” Draven eagerly responded.

“It’s working,” Polanski chuckled.

His grin widened, revealing his retracted fangs.

“Perfect! Now we will be unstoppable!” He laughed.

“We will gather enough men in our army and attack the mental asylum in a few days, Your Highness. We plan to save you from there and then take over the kingdom, as we can’t afford to delay it anymore. We just need your approval, Your Majesty.”

Draven was impressed by Polanski’s humbleness and wit.

“I approve. And once we succeed, you will be my closest. My advisor and right hand,” Draven declared.

“I’d be honoured, Your Highness,” came the reply. “I’ll keep you informed.”

Polanski ended the link after giving Draven the good news he wanted to hear.

“Finally! I can sleep well,” he snickered as he closed his eyes. The contentment Polanski gave him was enough for him to finally be able to sleep, despite being restrained.