The city of Troy - so long ago
Blood.
Smoke.
Fire.
Death.
This was the masterpiece the Greeks had brought to once proud city of Troy and its song was the jubilant cry of victory the Greeks were singing. They drunk wine. They threw the bodies of children and the elderly upon bon fires that lit up the night sky with an unholy radiance. All of that added to the harmony of the Greek's song, but if you listened close enough you could hear the underline melody of suffering from the surviving Trojans who were forced to watch the atrocity.

It was this music that made one of the fleeing survivors stop and kneel before a massive and glorious statue. The monument was that of a man who stood overlooking the burning remains of the city. He wore armor. He brandished a sword in one hand and a shield in another. This was the Trojan's god of war.

The survivor looked up towards the statue. His face streaked with smoke and ash and tears. There was blood on his face and on his body. His eyes though were absolute with rage and determination. He would garner and audience with his god one way or another. He spoke, his voice low and seething but holding some form of respect, "Do you not see the remains? Do you not hear the suffering of your people? Do you not see the vulgarity our enemy brings to our great land that respected and revered you?"

The statue was silent.

Undeterred, the survivor spoke on, "Does it not bring you any hatred? Does it not inspire any feeling?" Again, the statue was silent. The survivor looked on with startled disbelief and asked, "Have you abandoned us?" Nothing. The survivor looked on with surprise which made his hatred fester and finally explode as he screamed out, "You are a false god!"

The eyes of the statue opened and it's head turned down to look at the survivor. A stab of fear went through his heart but it was only momentary as his anger was his shield. He rose up from his knees and looked up towards his god with pure defiance. There was strength in his feeling and he used it as he proclaimed aloud, "You are a false god who cared nothing for us! You come only when your image is in jeopardy!"

The statue spoke calmly and evenly, "I come because you believe that you were wronged..."

With unbridled fury, the survivor cried out, "we were wronged!"

The statue finished speaking and ignored what the survivor had said, "... even though you were not."

Fire spewed from the survivor's lips but the statue was able to stop it with calm even words, "Your anger doesn't come from being a victim as you believe. Your angry because they used intelligence to defeat you and that shatters your dream of being an invincible nation."

Reality always made a dramatic entrance. It didn't just announce itself like any proper person would. It came in and slapped you hard in the face and screamed loud and clear that it was here and that it wasn't going anywhere. The survivor felt stunned. He knew that his war god was right. He was mad that his perfect vision of Troy was shattered. But this truth didn't stop his rage instead it only fueled it. He looked back up towards the statue who still peered down at him knowing that there was more that was left to be said.

"Then give me revenge." He said quietly and simply.

The statue only said, "There is no honor in revenge."

"Not if it carries with it a service to you and to your ideals for now and for all time." The survivor spat out. The war god quietly contemplated this. After a long moment of silence, the statue turned to look towards the survivor and said, "Whether or not the ends justify the means remains to be seen. You seem to believe in such and I am curious as to know whether or not you're right. You and your fallen and your children will know eternal revenge."

Cost. There was always a cost to revenge and the war god had spelled it out to the survivor. It would be eternal. That also said that it would also be painful in the most indescribable way. The war god was kind. He was giving the survivor a chance to back out and that opportunity was never taken. All the survivor could do was to look upward and say, "I accept your terms."

Somewhere in the city of titans world - today

It was a story for the ages: a vampire was imprisoned by a group of thugs who were run by the Delano family. The blood sucker dangled in the center of the warehouse the Delano thugs called their office. His wrists and ankles were held together with silver bindings. They weren't sure if that TV trope actually worked or not but so far it had. A few of the boys had taken to roughing up the vamp with a few of the old one-twos.

The leech was young looking maybe early twenties or so. Hell, didn't all vampires look like they just graduated high school? It was possible that the blood sucker was a few hundred years old. Fresh from his mother's milk or old enough to where dating a cougar was the same as rocking the cradle really didn't matter at all. The point was that the boys got themselves a real live vampire.

Opportunity had been knocking a lot recently. The rise of crime from super villains had kept law enforcement and the so called super heroes at bay. This allowed for intelligent and strong willed to work their way through the system. Gambling, prostitution, drugs, this was minor stuff that was done way too many times and could be seen coming a mile away. No, the new stuff was like identity theft and malware development along with social engineering.

Business from these endeavors was excellent and profits were rolling in quick. But something was wrong. Some of their operators had reported strange occurrences like they were being watched. This was laughed off as newbies having jitters. They were told though that if they had a problem that they should push it aside because the boss didn't want anyone having any moral dilemmas. But the operators stressed that it wasn't that. They really felt as if someone or something was watching them. One guy got all flowery with his description saying, "Man, it was like I was the rabbit and that a great big panther was waiting in the shadows for me waiting for the right time to pounce and tear into me you know?" Again, that was just something the higher ups laughed up.

That all changed though when a few of their operators started dying in the same way - two marks on the throat and all the blood just sucked away. Vampire. Were those things for real? No that was just something Hollywood came up with. This had to be a hot dog fork and a nerd who thought he was Lestat. Police even thought so too. They had said that it was someone who had watched too many Twilight films and read too much Anne Rice. But the bodies kept coming and the worry kept growing.

The Delano family had decided to do a bit of investigating on their own. They called in certain favors and got some people to hack their way into the city's CCTV network. They examined the footage around their businesses and was proud of the fact that no evidence of their business was visible on the footage. But pride gave way to fear. A side door that connected to their business opened up and closed rather quickly all by itself.

No, this wasn't vampires. There were things that could be used to explain all of this. The military had things like invisibility armor. There were super speeders running around. It could be a nerd who had all of that junk and used fork. But other questions came up, where did the blood go? You tap an artery and you'll get yourself sprayed with something red and wet. There wasn't a drop of blood anywhere. This only made the boys worry a little more. What if it was a vampire? Just, what if?

Such things weren't real though. It was a proven fact. But what if? There were more occurrences. Some of the boys were seeing people in alleyways being eaten on by someone with glistening eyes. There were the cries that happened all of a sudden then stopped very short. There was the sudden disappearances. There were more bodies. Then the lucky break came. An operator had managed to capture the vampire and had left it in the office for the boss to see.

Frank Delano himself came to view the prize. He was a man who had lived his life carefully. And even though he was coming out into the open he felt that it was worth it. This Count Dracula Wannabe had cost his family several million dollars. He wanted it back even if it meant cutting off bone and flesh. He stopped before the vampire who had the living daylights beaten out of him. His body twirled thanks to gravity but he didn't seem to mind at all the humiliation or discomfort. Frank thought that that would change rather soon.

He got up and close towards the vampire's face and whispered to him, "You cost me money. I'd like to know how you will pay me back for that."

The vampire said nothing. He didn't even turn his eyes to look at him. This angered Frank big time and he grabbed a hold of the vampire's face forcing him to look. Frank snarled out, "How are you going to pay me back for everything you've taken from me."

When the vampire didn't say anything more Frank felt his fists ball up. He was ready to strike the leech as hard as he could when he stopped. There was nothing there. A collective gasp echoed through the warehouse from the boys. The vampire had vanished. Disappeared. Frank stood back, scared for the first time in his life. He knew then and there that he was set up. Everything the vampire did was to lure him out into the open and he fell for it. His heart thundered loudly in his chest as he looked all around the office for any sign of where the freak was.

"Hello dahlink." Said the voice of a woman who sounded sensual and alluring. All eyes looked up as that was where it came from. What they saw was a creature that had the body of a woman but the face of a devil. It held itself to the ceiling through darkness and magic. Its mouth was a gaping maw that could swallow everyone whole and it had teeth that could shred through flesh and bone. It snarled and hissed but spoke with that sweet sounding voice that just screamed intimacy, "I'm so glad you came. I was beginning to think you wouldn't."

The creature pounced on them and the whole room screamed.

It was over and done with that fast. It was relatively easy for the vampire woman since she had dealt with boys and their guns before. Her features shifted back to her human mask relatively quickly but it was smeared with blood and bits of gore. She touched her cheek and saw the remains on her finger tips. She then looked down and saw that her clothes were sprayed with blood. She let out a shriek of horror as she tried to wipe it off with a nearby rag. Her voice was rapid with worry, she hoped that she wasn't too late, "No! No! No! This is the latest fashion!" She stopped as she realized that it was too late. Her clothes were 'beyond saving.' She sighed, threw the rag away and said, "I need to stop wearing fashion to these things."

She pouted of course but then began to smile. It was all right. After all, the war god would hear her plea and would make everything better. She was The Dead Woman and she was the war god's favorite.