Tugging at my Undead Heartstrings II - The Belle, it tolls for thee

Chapter 3 - Strella

Sweetie Belle’s first encounter with a vampony that wasn’t part of her family was a surprisingly understated affair. Once Rarity was sure that this newcomer was indeed headed straight for them, she led Sweetie to a clearing in the woods no too far away. They would need both the space and the privacy if it came to blows.

Sweetie Belle watched as a dull yellow blur landed in the forest on the other side of the clearing. A few moments later, a pegasus mare walked slowly out of the trees and came to rest on the other side of the clearing. Rarity put herself between Sweetie and the strange pony, body low and in a ready position with her fangs out. Her horn was glowing with a bright red aura; a clear sign that Rarity had augmented one of her spells with a little bit of blood magic.

The mare slowly came closer and Sweetie could see that she was about the same age as she was, maybe a few years younger when she was turned, not that that really counted for anything when it came to vamponies. She had a light green mane and tail, mixed in with a few streaks of copper, and oddly for a vampony, she wore a pair of wire frame glasses. The mare walked slowly into the clearing, her movements calm and fluid. Rarity kept her position, but it was clear that the mare wasn’t here to attack them.

Once she was within easy talking distance, Rarity signalled for the mare to stop. “Who are you and what do you want?” she asked, not bothering with any preamble.

The mare smiled at her, a genial smile clearly showing off the pair of fangs in her mouth. There was no point in hiding their nature at this point; all of them knew exactly what they were and no other ponies were around to see them. When she spoke, her tone was calm and measured, carefully crafted to show no hostile intent. ‘Relax,” she said, “I’m not here to cause you any trouble. This wood is my hunting ground, and I sensed your arrival here two days ago. I’ve been watching you since you arrived and I figured that it was the right time to meet the neighbours, so to speak. I am Strella. Who are you?” Her voice was strongly accented and it sounded like she had either grown up or spent a lot of time in Stalliongrad at some point in her life.

Rarity relaxed slightly, but didn’t let her guard down. “My name is Rarity, and this is my sister, Sweetie Belle.” Sweetie moved out from behind Rarity and waved a hoof at the mare, Strella, if that was her real name. Strella smiled at her and returned the wave. “You said that these woods were yours; are you here to chase us off? We were just leaving.”

Strella shook her head, “No, I am not here to chase you off. I am one, while you are many. I know that there are others that you can signal close by, and to tell you the truth, I am lonely for the company of my own kind.”

Sweetie Belle felt her unbeating heart go out to this mare. It sounded like she had been alone for a long time. “Are you alone here?” she asked the mare before her.

Strella nodded once, “Indeed I am, and it has been that way for as long as I have been a vampony. My cave is not far from here, if you would like to talk in private. It is well sheltered from the sun and I have some caged animals if you are still hungry.”

Rarity recoiled at the idea of spending time in a cave, no matter whose it was. She released her spell and straightened up, though she didn’t break eye contact with Strella. “That’s a… lovely offer, Strella, but why don’t you come with us. We have a home in town and I’m sure that the others would love to meet you.”

Strella paused for a moment but she eventually nodded, “Very well, I will come with you. I will admit that I am curious to see how you live; I’ve never met another vampony who lives like you do. I’ve always lived alone in my cave. I think that the locals believe that it is haunted and leave it and me alone.”

Rarity motioned for Strella to follow her. “Come along then. Just remember to hide your fangs; we don’t want to spook the locals just yet.”

Strella clamped down her mouth, hiding her fangs from sight. Rarity and Sweetie Belle covered theirs with illusions and the trio began to walk towards the edge of the forest.

The house that Twilight had selected as the base of operations while they were living in Fillydelphia was located on the far outskirts of the town, close to the edge of the wood and lacking any close neighbours. Rarity led them towards the house, silently thankful that it was now late afternoon and everypony was either already at home or headed to a bar or tavern for a drink. As such, they didn’t garner much attention; just another three ponies making their way home after a days work.

Sweetie Belle had to focus hard on the ground before her. Around her, her senses were telling her that the walking blood bags were ripe for the picking. Even though she had just fed on the deer, her mouth was watering at the smell of such rich ponies just walking right before her. It would be so simple to grab one and vanish into the forest before anypony could react. Maybe a young colt or filly so that they would be extra juicy.

‘No! I mustn’t think like that. These are living ponies and not walking meals,’ Sweetie Belle mentally told herself. Swiftly she distracted herself by biting down on her lip, digging her right fang deeply into the flesh. The pain quickly distracted her, though the taste of her own blood made her feel hungry again. She knew that she would be constantly hungry for many months to come; it had taken that long for the others.

Beside her, Rarity noticed Sweetie and pulled her in close. She wasn’t going to let Sweetie Belle get hurt. Walking on her other side, Strella was looking around the town in wonder. Behind her glasses, her eyes were constantly scanning the ponies around her, as well as looking at all the buildings. From her expression, it was clear that she had never seen anything like this before. She looked uncomfortable in the light crowd, but Rarity could tell that she wasn’t in danger of snapping.

A few ponies gave them a second glance, but they reached the house without incident. Recently renovated for their stay, the house looked no different on the outside than any of the other houses that dotted the landscape around Fillydelphia. A small but well maintained garden sat proudly before it; Bon-Bon liked to garden when she had some free time.

Even thought she knew that the others would be able to hear them approaching along the stone path, Rarity called out for good measure, “We’re home, everypony, and we have a guest.”

A second later, the door to the house opened and Lyra stepped out onto the porch. She was all smiles, though Sweetie noticed that her fangs were still hidden, even in the increasing dark of the afternoon. “Welcome back,” she said happily before turning t face Strella. “Please, come inside,” she said stepping aside to make room.

At the invitation, Strella began walking towards the house. She had been hanging back slightly from Rarity and Sweetie Belle. While she didn’t need to be formally invited into their house; the rules governing entry into a private home only worked for mortal residencies, it was still common courtesy. She also didn’t want to appear threatening on her first visit to this new group. They were the first vamponies who hadn’t tried to kill her on sight in a long time; she wasn’t lying about being lonely for her own kind.

As she passed into the house, Strella noticed several powerful wards on the walls. There was some strong magic at work on this house, but of what kind, she couldn’t guess. Safely inside, She noticed that Rarity and Sweetie Belle nearly instantly dropped their illusions and revealed their true natures. Upon seeing them show fang, Strella did the same and unclamped her mouth.

It was then that she noticed that the other occupants of the house had come out to meet her. Standing in the front hallway of the house, Strella was faced with four unicorns and an earth pony, all of whom were looking at her with varying degrees of welcome and suspicion on their faces. Her first instinct was to fight; to show her fangs to intimidate her enemy. She quickly quashed that thought; five on one was suicide, and they had not shown any hostile intent just yet.

It was Twilight who first broke the silence. “Who are you?” she asked, all business.

Strella launched into a slightly abridged version of the story she had told Rarity and Sweetie Belle. As she spoke, she saw the earth pony smile at her. She could tell that the cream mare would be a kind soul and the way that she stood next to the mint mare who had welcomed them said that they were an item together.

“And that’s my story so far,” she finished up. “I just wanted to meet with some of my own kind. I never imagined that you would live like this, side by side with the cattle.”

“We don’t think of them as cattle,” Bon-Bon said, “they are living ponies to be respected and protected. Just because they are our food, doesn’t mean that we can’t live along side them.” She paused for a moment before exclaiming, “Oh, but where are our manners? We haven’t yet introduced ourselves yet. I’m Bon-Bon.” She pointed to herself before passing a hoof over to Lyra, “This is Lyra. She is the eldest here.”

Eventually she turned to face Twilight, who still had a suspicious look on her face. She clearly didn’t trust Strella yet. “This is Twilight Spark…”

Upon hearing Twilight’s name, Strella instantly leapt up to her hooves and flared her wings. Her entire posture screamed of barely contained anger and a goodly dose of fear.

“Strella, calm down,” Sweetie called out, trying to get in close enough to sooth her new friend. “What’s wrong?”

Strella pointed a hoof at Twilight. “She is the betrayer of our kind. The famous Twilight Sparkle, who stole her immortality from a captured vampony and now leads the suns forces in a crusade against us all.”

Twilight looked stunned at the accusation. “What? No, that’s not it at all,” she tried to defend herself.

Strella didn’t look convinced. Instead she turned to face Lyra and Bon-Bon. “She will betray you. You think she is loyal, but one day she will turn you in to her master.”

“That’s enough!” Lyra commanded, putting enough volume into her voice that it cut through Strella’s fear like a knife. “You will not talk about my childe that way.”

The mention that Twilight was Lyra’s progeny caught Strella off guard. “What?” she asked Lyra, “She is your childe? But that would mean that…”

“That the story as you have heard it is wrong. It is true that Twilight tried to turn herself, using blood that was taken from me and Bon-Bon, but she didn’t steal her immortality. I gave it to her in order to save her life.” She paused for a moment to indicate all of them, “We all serve Celestia by hunting down threats that are too great for her royal guard to handle; Threats that have sometimes included rogue vamponies.”

At the mention of hunting vamponies, some of Strella’s earlier fears returned and she started looking for a way out. Lyra quickly held up a hoof. “However, that doesn’t mean that we kill every one we meet. If you are able to live without attracting attention; exist alongside mortal ponies without having to kill them to feed and are able to cover your tracks well enough that no suspicion is raised, then you have nothing to fear from us. We only hunt down those who have broken the first rule of being a vampony – never get caught.”

Strella calmed down slightly, though she was still on edge. “So you are saying that I am free to return to my cave if I wish; that you will not harm me?”

Twilight nodded, “Right. As long as you obey our rules, then your existence is safe. Though,” she turned to look at Lyra, who nodded almost imperceptibly, “You are welcome to join us here if you like. There is room for you in our coven, and we could certainly use a pegasus in our ranks. We have regular supplies of blood delivered and I dare say that this house is more comfortable than the cave you have been living in.”

Strella regarded Twilight for a long moment. “Will you kill me if I refuse?”

“No, this is your choice. If you would rather return to your home and live alone, then we won’t stop you. Just know that we are here and that you have friends in the city.”

“I will think about it,” Strella said. She wasn’t used to being shown this much kindness; or any kindness at all. The last time she had tried interacting with others, it had not ended well.

“At least join us for dinner,” Bon-Bon said. “Do you like A or O?”

“I do not know what that is,” Strella admitted.

“O then,” Bon-Bon said, moving off to the small kitchen. It consisted of not much more than a refrigerator and an oven, along with a few cupboards for cups and plates. It wouldn’t look odd to a visiting pony, but it was on the small side. The sounds of pots and pans being moved around could be heard followed by the clicking of a gas stove.

A minute or two later, Bon-Bon emerged with a laden tray on her back. Six bowls filled with dark crimson filled the tray and she quickly passed them out to the others. Each of them took a spoon or a straw as was they preference and started to drink their dinner.

Strella looked at her bowl of ‘soup’ with a little suspicion. “What is this?” she asked. Her nose told her that it was blood and that she should drink it down, but she had never seen it served like this.

Bon-Bon paused, leaving a straw in her own bowl. “It’s just a couple of blood packs we had in storage that I heated up to body temp. It’s not as good as the real thing, but quite palatable.”

“You don’t drink fresh?” Strella asked incredulous.

“Sometimes, when supplies are low or there is a special occasion, but as we said, no one dies and they do not remember after,” Lyra said, putting her spoon down. She looked over to Bon-Bon and gave her a slightly sad smile. “We haven’t had to kill anypony while feeding for a very long time and for the most part we have a stable supply of bottled blood from Canterlot which can sustain us. The princess doesn’t mind us feeding on living ponies if we have to; she knows how hard it can be to resist the hunger at times, but her rules are absolute. No getting caught and nopony dies.”

“There is much about your princess that I do not know,” Strella admitted before dipping her tongue into the bowl of blood. It was as Bon-Bon had said – warmed to body temperature and she dug in, lifting the bowl to her mouth and gulping down its contents. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but every vampony knew to never turn down a free meal; you never knew when you might get the chance again.

“I’m sure that we can teach you about her, if you want,” Sweetie Belle said. She liked Strella and hoped that the pegasus would at least stay in contact with them, even if she didn’t join them permanently.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence; a few questions from Strella about life before they moved here; some back at her about how long she had been living in her cave; conversation that would have seemed normal had they been just any old family of ponies sharing a meal.

Eventually, they all finished up their blood. Lyra and Bon-Bon took the dishes away to be cleaned while Twilight and Rarity moved off to finish setting up some of the other rooms. There were some underground rooms being built which were going to be an emergency sanctum, holding cells, and a practice room if they needed it.

All of that left Sweetie and Strella alone in the dining room. Sweetie gave Strella a smile; this was her chance to get to know her better without the others around.

Strella was looking out the window. Night had fallen while they were eating, and all around them, small specks of light could be seen flickering to life. Each one contained another pony resting up from the day.

Sweetie Belle thought for a moment. There was something that she wanted to know from Strella, but she didn’t know if it was appropriate to ask it yet; they had just met and it could be rather personal.

“Hey, Strella. Can I ask you something?”

Strella looked away from the town and turned to face Sweetie. “I have no secrets that need to be kept. Ask your question, and I will answer if I can.”

Sweetie took a deep breath, more out of habit than any actual need. “Do you remember how you were turned? I’m the only one who had a choice; the others all had this life thrust upon them.”

Strella looked back out over the city, watching as ponies returned home at the end of their day. “I only remember fragments of how it happened. A temple of some kind, crowds of ponies all worshipping some kind of statue, a pony wearing a hood. It was degrading and I don’t think it was my choice. Would you like to hear about it?”

Sweetie Belle nodded once. She was interested, and she felt that it would be good for Strella to tell her story to somepony.

Strella paused, lost in her memories. Finally she came back and began speaking.

“It would have been about twenty years ago now, I’ve not been keeping exact track of the time and it happened in a place far away from here. A stone temple hidden away in a canyon. I was bound and gagged and left on display like a prize. As I begged for death, a priest appeared, a vampony.”

Temple of the Cult of Sanguine, Location unknown
23 years ago

Cut directly into the walls of a desert canyon, a glorious temple stood proudly. Its edifices stood silently, as sharply defined as the day that they were carved from the rock. The site of hundreds of perverse acts and more than a few blood sacrifices, the temple was the last safe refuge of an order of devotees to an ancient occult god. None knew of its location as anything other than a long forgotten relic not worth the trip.

Ordinarily silent, had one been around the temples entrance this day, they would have heard the sounds of deep voices praying and chanting from within.

“We give you this offering, that you might shower us with your glory, oh great lord of the night,” A deep voice echoed off of the walls of the temple. The rhythmic sounds of dozens of ponies chanting quickly followed.

Lord Sanguine we beseech you, shower us with your glory.

On the stage, a hooded figure stood behind a lectern. His face was covered by the hood, but a pair of glowing red eyes looked out. Only his lower jaw was visible in the gloom, and it was clear from the stripes covering his jaw and legs that he was a zebra. The stripes were generally the second thing a pony would notice about him though. The first was the gleaming pair of fangs protruding over his lower lip; fangs that had been filed to needle sharp points, along with the rest of his teeth.

Occult symbols were etched into his robe, conveying prayers and incantations in a tongue that hadn’t been uttered outside the sacred halls of the temple for centuries. None, save for the highest ranked of the inner circle could read them.

Flanking the zebra on either side were two fully grown werewolves. They stood silently on either side of the altar. Turned at birth by their own parents, they had been raised within the confines of the Cult of Sanguine and acted as the protectors of the shrine. The zebra personally didn’t care for them, but they had their uses so long as their bloodlust could be controlled.

Eventually, the chanting died down as the zebra raised a hoof into the air. Today was a special day after all, and it wouldn’t do to have chatter. From within his hood, he looked over the throng of ponies and zebras assembled before him. He knew them all; every one of them had proven their loyalty to the cause a hundred times over in order to earn their place at this special occasion.

“My devoted flock, I bid you welcome to this sacred occasion,” the zebra called out, “Today you shall all witness as the next phase of the prophecy come to fruition. The chosen one has been found and she shall serve as the vessel of our god’s rebirth!” Thrusting both fore hooves into the air as he spoke, he rose up onto his back legs revealing scars and tattoos covering his body. Many of them matched to glyphs on his cloak, though he made sure not to reveal his face. Sacred doctrine forbid him from ever showing his face to any, save the highest ranked of the Inner circle.

Cheers rose from the crowd. Many of them had been waiting their whole lives for this moment; some had been waiting for several generations, with the trust being passed down from parent to child.

“Agents devoted to the cause have found a child in a village bordering the deserts north of here. The child matches the prophecies perfectly. Tests have been administered and the signs read; there is no doubt that she is the one fated to serve our lord as his vessel.”

With a flourish, the zebra stepped aside from his lectern to reveal a young pegasus mare strung up to a frame being wheeled in by a pair of earth ponies. Both were masked and covered from head to hoof in cloths. The mare was bound and gagged, but she was fully awake and struggling uselessly against her bonds. Her wings had been bound to her sides and all her legs had been spread apart, leaving her on display for all to see; Even her tail had been secured to the frame to prevent her from covering herself.

At the sight of her, the crowd reached an even greater frenzy of activity. Many were shouting and cheering up at the priest. A few were silent in deep prayer, silently uttering worship their god. Two young members who had been initiated as werewolves shifted on the spot and lunged at each other, tearing chunks of fur and skin from each others bodies as the frenzy of the moment over took them.

The priest, his temple guards and the two ponies wheeling in the stricken mare took the scene in with no apparent emotion. The carnality of such mortals was beneath the notice of the zebran priest. All that mattered to him was completing the ceremony. It had been nearly three thousand years, but he had finally found the one and he had her right where he wanted her.

“SILENCE!!!” He called out, his vampire nature allowing him to project his voice far louder than would normally be possible. At once the crowd ceased in their revelry; the ponies and zebras present froze in whatever action they were doing. The two wolves separated at once, shifting back into their natural forms, though now covered in scratches and gashes. They continued to growl at each other and both looked ready to lunge again at the slightest provocation.

Once he was sure that the congregation had settled down, the priest turned around to face the mare bound behind him. He gave her a wide grin, allowing her to see his fangs clearly. At once, she tensed up and her struggling increased. He knew that it was no use though. She would never break those bonds, and even if she did, there was nowhere for her to go. There was nothing for miles in any direction outside of this temple; just barren wasteland. It was the reason the temple had been built here, far from prying eyes.

Speaking to her, but addressing the crowd, the zebra advanced on her. “After so long, our grand search is over. This mare shall serve as the vessel to our lord’s rebirth. She is the chosen one.”

With a deft hoof, he ripped the gag from her mouth and she gasped in air. Standing right before her, he could see the fear in her eyes. This mare was terrified out of her mind; not that that was surprising. She had just seen her village razed to the ground around her and been spirited off by creatures beyond imagination.

“Do not fear, little one,” he said soothingly to her, lightly stroking her face with his hoof. “Soon, you will be free from the curses of your mortality. You will drink of me and soon you shall rise again, ever free from the ravages of age; reborn into the glory that is our lord.”

The mare shivered against his touch; his hoof was as cold as ice. Looking into the two burning orbs that served as his eyes, she knew then and there that she was not going to leave this place alive. They were going to kill her.

“What’s your name, little mare?” he asked her. He added in just a little bit of mental force behind his request.

“St-Strella,” she whimpered. “Please, let me go. I haven’t done anything.”

The priest shook his head ruefully, “I’m sorry, Strella. I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, you are going to be the prophet of the coming age of Sanguine. He shall usher in a new age of darkness and overthrow that tyrant, Celestia.”

Stepping closer, the zebra bared his teeth in preparation for the next part of the ritual. Strella flinched at the sight of his fangs, squeezing her eyes shut in preparation for what was surely going to be her final breaths.

A moment later, she felt a lance of pain in her neck as the vampire; for it could only be a vampire that stood before her, bit deeply into her neck. Despite the pain, she refused to give it even the slightest sense of satisfaction and didn’t scream out. If this was going to be her death, then she would face it like the brave pegasi in the stories her mother had always told her about.

She could feel the zebra sucking on her neck; feel her life force ebbing away. Slowly, a greying fog began to descend upon her mind and Strella hoped that this was going to be the end.

Just as the last sparks of life began to flicker out from her mind, Strella felt something cool and wet being poured into her mouth. Almost without thought, she swallowed the thick liquid, followed by another mouthful, and then another. It was as if this mystery liquid contained pure life and she began sucking harder, teasing out every drop that she could.

Nearly as suddenly as it had begun, the liquid vanished from her mouth, and Strella’s mind blacked out entirely. Strapped up in her frame, she went limp; her wings flopped out as far as the ropes binding her would allow and her head rolled forward.

Withdrawing back from her body, the priest turned to inspect the twin bites on her neck. With a pleased smile, he noted that they were beginning to close up on their own. He could sense his blood coursing throughout her body, altering her physiology and remaking her in his lord’s perfect image.

Turning to face the expectant crowd, he lifted his hooves up again. “My devoted brothers and sisters, the deed is done. Soon our prophet shall rise again, reborn in eternal glory and she shall lead us to the promised land in Lord Sanguine’s name!”

The crowd cheered at his words. The two wolves shifted again, but rather than return to their fight they added their howls to the chorus of whinnies and cheers. The priest took it all in, a little woozy from the blood loss. Strella had drunken more than would normally be needed to create a newborn vampony, but he had wanted to make sure that the blessing had taken root in her. It wouldn’t do to have the chosen one fail to turn because he was a little stingy with his blood.

Absently, he thought of the blood slaves he kept hidden away. Hopelessly addicted to the pleasure that could be found when a vampony fed on you, they had volunteered to serve the cult in this fashion. They would make a fine snack to replace his missing blood.

“Go now, my children,” he commanded the ponies before him, “Return to your lives and quietly serve our lord. Prepare the lands for his arrival.”

Some of the ponies looked disappointed, but none of them complained or remained. The next phase of the ceremony was only for the eyes of the inner circle; having mortal ponies around when a newborn vampony awoke was inviting disaster.

Soon, the hallways had cleared of worshippers and the lower level initiates, leaving only the priest and a small cabal of others behind. Aside from the two temple guards that had remained silent sentinels throughout the entire event, there were five other vamponies present: One from each of the tribes of pony, a fellow zebra mare and strangely, one griffon. Each of them was his progeny; turned at different points in his life. They made up the inner circle of the Cult of Sanguine.

Despite their ages, the zebra knew that his new childe would be far more powerful than any of them. He had been saving his blood for nearly 1000 years for this moment; both the time between turnings and the age of the progenitor made differences in how powerful a newly turned neonate would be.

Alone with only the highest ranked members of his cult, the zebra pulled back his hood, revealing his face for the first time. Where normally there would have just been stripes covering his face, the zebra had a wide jagged scar running down the side of his muzzle, nearly bisecting his left eye. A very close cut grey mane ran down the back of his neck. Combined with his teeth, he knew that his visage made him look like the very definition of a vampony monster; he should know, as it was his likeness that was used in some of the classic texts on such creatures. That was a relic of a long gone age when he delighted in tormenting mortals, back before he realised his true path.

Motioning to his followers, the priest approached the limp body of Strella. The unicorn vampony magically undid her ropes and levitated her over to a small stone pedestal set into one side of the dais. Once she was settled in and as comfortable as could be made, the cabal made a semi circle around her and settled in to wait. There was nothing else to do right now but wait. Their prophet would rise when she was ready, and then the learning would begin.

It took nearly a full twelve hours for Strella to begin to stir again; an abnormally long time but not unheard of. It was the priest who noticed it first – the slight motions of her chest as her body began to breathe the air it no longer required followed by a gentle fluttering on the eyes.

With a grin, he motioned for his companions to step back a little. They had started to crowd around her ‘bed’ and he didn’t want them getting too close right at the start.

Slowly, Strella’s eyes opened and she blinked several times before her eyes focused on the priest standing before her. At the sight of him, she instantly flared her wings and backed up as quickly as she could; she hadn’t even noticed that she was unbound yet, it was all instinctive.

Smiling gently at her, the priest held up a hoof before moving in slowly until he was standing right before the stone bed. Strella tried to press herself right up against the walls, hoping to vanish or wake up from this nightmare she was having.

“Peace, childe. I mean you no harm,” the priest said calmly. He meant it too; he wasn’t going to harm her, not if he had a choice. She was too valuable to him now.

Strella didn’t back down from the wall, her eyes terrified of what she was seeing. “What do you want from me?” she yelled before pausing when she felt something wrong with her mouth. Instantly she ran her tongue along her teeth, finding two sharp points now wedged near the front of her teeth. “What… what did you do to me?” she nearly sobbed.

The priest appeared unperturbed. “I have freed you from the curse of mortality and given you life ever lasting. You are the one who shall lead our people into the promised lands of glory. The cursed sun shall fall, leaving only one eternal glorious feast of blood.” He paused for a moment before indicating his own fangs; he had carefully prepared them for tonight and they gleamed in the dim firelight of the temple. “As for what I have done to you, my dear childe, is it not obvious?

His voice lowered and he stepped forward with each word for extra emphasis. “I have made you vampyre!”

At his words, something snapped in Strella and she bolted. With a powerful sweep of her wings she launched into the air and dashed for the only path she could see, hoping that there would be some kind of exit at the end. Despite flying in near darkness and at speeds she had never before reached, she had no trouble in navigating herself around obstacles and seeing exactly where she was going. As she reached the other end of the temple, she caught sight of the night sky above her and she dashed for it, not caring about what she might find there; anything would be better than what was down here.

The two temple wolves made to chase after Strella, and the pegasus and griffon flared their wings to follow, but the priest held up a hoof to stall them. “No, let her go,” he commanded them. “You would never catch her, and if she truly is the one, then she shall survive on her own and will one day come back to us. If she isn’t, well then those sun cursed monks of Celestia’s will take care of her for us.”

Staring up at the entrance to the tunnel, the priest could only chuckle lightly. Despite this set back, things were finally progressing as he had foreseen. He had waited dozens of lifetimes for this moment; he could certainly wait a few more. One day, they would meet again, and on that day, destiny would play its hand.

“I flew faster than I had ever done before as I escaped that temple,” Strella said, her eyes glazed over as she recalled her past. “I didn’t know what I was capable of at the time and I just picked a direction and bolted. It wasn’t until later on that I realised just how hungry I felt and picked up the scent of something wonderful in the distance.”

“What happened next?” Sweetie Belle asked. She had become engrossed in Strella’s story.

Strella gave her a grim smile. “I found a small caravan of zebra’s camped out next to an oasis. I touched down a little way from them and they welcomed me into their camp, offering me food and water; even a spare bed roll for the night if I wanted it.”

Strella paused for a moment before closing her eyes in anguish. “I drained them all. They had done nothing to me, but my body demanded food and acted without me, convincing me that it was the greatest thing I had ever tasted. It was over in moments and afterwards, as I sat there covered in their blood, there was no question as to what I was. I was damned and cursed, so I came to these woods as there was no settlement here back then. I’ve been here ever since.”

Sweetie Belle blinked a few times as she felt something wet trickle down her face. Dabbing at her eyes, her hoof came away bloody. She had been crying without realising it, but being a vampony, she couldn’t cry normal tears. Grabbing a tissue from a box on the table, she cleaned her eyes of the leaking vitae.

“That’s horrible,” she finally muttered.

Strella turned away from her, looking out through a window into the encroaching gloom. It had become full dark in the time that she had been speaking. “I do not like to think about it. What is done is done and I have no intention of becoming the vessel of any god. Over the years, I have learned to control my hunger and I have spoken to a few others who have filled me in on much of what I would have learned if I was still with my sire.”

“Fascinating,” a voice came from the other side of the room. Sweetie and Strella both turned to find Twilight standing in the doorway, levitating a pen and quill. From the looks of things, she had been writing for some time.

She walked over to where Strella was seated and sat down opposite her. “I’ve never heard of this ‘Cult of Sanguine’ before. Do you think I could ask you some questions about it? The princess would certainly be interested in learning all that she could about it, especially if it is prophesising doom for all Equestria.”

Strella gave Sweetie Belle a quick look before shaking her head. “Another time perhaps. I am weary from the day and have spoken too much as it is. If it is all the same to you, I would like to retire to my cave. We shall meet again, Sweetie Belle. Thank you for the food and company.”

With that, Strella got up and began to head for the door. Twilight tried to stop her, though she didn’t actually restrain Strella in any way.

“But, what about…” she began, lifting her scroll up in front of her.

“Another time, Twilight Sparkle,” Strella repeated a bit more firmly. She reached the front door and pulled it open gently. Stepping outside, she took a quick look around to confirm that they were alone. Finding nopony around, Strella flapped her wings a few times before launching herself into the darkened sky with a speed that would have made Rainbow Dash seem like a sloth. One moment she was there, the next she was gone; a dull yellow wake trail disappearing behind her as she disappeared over the woods.

Sweetie Belle could only watch her go. She hoped that Strella had been telling the truth when she had said they would meet again.

With one last look to where she had vanished to, Sweetie Belle and Twilight returned into their home. They still had things to do in this town.

As they closed the door, Twilight paused for a moment. There was something that Strella had said that jogged her memory; something important to do with…

She shook her head. Whatever it was, it would come to her in time; most likely popping up at the worst possible time and annoying her endlessly. Tomorrow, she would be out looking for evidence of werewolves around town.

Author's Note

A few of you that I contacted back when I started originally writing this story may recognise elements of the latter half of this chapter.

Originally this was going to be chapter 1 of the story and it had a far darker tone, before I decided to remove the explicit sex from the narrative.

The original draft had Strella, then called Buttercup as a willing volunteer who had been raised from a foal to believe in the cults teachings. There was to be an orgy in which Buttercup had sex with the priest in front of the worshipping ponies before being drained and turned.

She and the sanguine vamponies were also based off of the Nagaraja vampires from White Wolf's World of Darkness tabletop RPG and later Troika's epic Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines. Those who know the series will know what sets the Nagaraja apart from other clans, but for the rest of you, the Nagaraja, in addition to drinking blood also have to eat the flesh of their victims in order to survive.

I eventually decided to scrap the idea, as I couldn't make it fit in with a major plot point that will be happening in a later chapter. I deleted almost all of the original chapter and started over, changing Buttercup into Strella and making her unwilling