"Someone—please, someone save me!" a woman shrieked, her voice raw with desperation as her frail arms flailed against the iron grip of her captor. Her skin was shriveling, veins blackening like wilted vines as the life was drained from her body. The woman holding her, a beauty, sneered before callously tossing her aside like a broken doll. The dying woman hit the cold stone floor with a sickening crunch, her body convulsing once… then falling still.
"More," purred the woman with the blood-drenched smile, licking her lips. "I need more blood."
She stood amidst in grand pool of crimson, waist-deep in blood that shimmered unnaturally under the light. Her body was thick and voluptuous, carved like a goddess from marble and dipped in sin. Long red hair flowed down her back like a river of wine, and her eyes—redder than fresh blood. Her skin was so pale she seemed like ill, almost like a beautiful walking corpse.
The black dress she wore clung to her curves like shadow, soaked and translucent, revealing the outline of her body as she slowly sank deeper into the bloodbath. It rippled unnaturally around her, as if being consumed, absorbed straight into her flesh. She moaned as the warmth of life coursed into her, her veins lighting up briefly beneath the pallor of her skin.
Surrounding the poolcultists dragged in victims—humans, elves, beastfolk—anything that bled. Screams echoed through the stone chamber as blades sliced through flesh. Throats were slit with cold precision, arteries opened and limbs severed as the victims were tossed into the pool or heaped into the growing mountain of corpses nearby. The stench of rot and blood was overpowering, and yet none flinched.
"This is barely enough," the woman hissed, blood dripping from her fingertips as she raised her arms. "I need more!"
"Goddess Silvana," said a young man kneeling at the pool's edge. He had dull orange hair and porcelain skin, but his eyes matched hers—blood red and devoid of light. "We've already killed so many… but even after all these years, are you sure this will work?"
Silvana's smile vanished. Her eyes narrowed with rage, and the walls of the chamber trembled as her voice boomed. "Two hundred years since I awoke, and all I am is this ghost! A goddess reduced to this!"
The blood around her churned violently as her aura exploded outward. Alfred winced, stepping back instinctively. 'Weak, she says… but she could kill every one of us in a heartbeat,' he thought, trembling. Before him stood Silvana, the fallen Goddess of Beauty—a divine being who had once reigned as both succubus and vampire, unrivaled in beauty. But after the Great War, she had been slain by the God of Chaos and imprisoned beyond mortal reach. Yet here she was, resurrected but barely having a physical body.
"I want more blood!" she howled, voice rising in desperation. Her body flickered for a second, becoming partially translucent. She screamed and slammed her hands into the pool, causing the blood to splash in violent waves.
Alfred swallowed hard. "That would mean attacking cities—slaughtering in the tens of thousands. But that'll draw attention. The old gods are watching. If we do this… we'll be hunted."
"You have point!" she snarled. "And we may arouse the attention of that old bat. I'll never forgive him for killing me."
He stepped forward, cautiously. "So, what should we do, my goddess?"
Silvana stared down at the corpses strewn around her, her nose wrinkling in disdain. "Keep raiding the small villages. Bleed them dry. But drinking blood alone is no longer enough… I must consume their flesh, their bones, their very essence.
She looked ill just saying it, curling her lip. "Disgusting. Mortal bodies are so… ugly. But necessary."
"We will obey," Alfred said quietly, bowing his head.
From the shadows, another voice echoed through the chamber—a youthful, melodic voice tinged with sarcasm. "Mother… what's the point of all this?"
A young man stepped into view. He was elegant, clad in noble black and crimson attire, his expression amused and his slinted blood-red eyes gleaming with mischief. His skin was a pallid gray, lips curled around sharp fangs. His long red hair hung like a curtain over his shoulders.
"You'll never become strong enough to challenge the God of Chaos. Why not accept defeat and start over? You could live a normal life. Maybe become a noble vampire queen somewhere, bathe in wine instead of blood. A fresh start."
Silvana's eyes widened with fury. "A normal life?!" she spat. "After all I've sacrificed?! I clawed my way to divinity! I sat among the stars! And you want me to slither in the dirt like a mortal worm?!"
Her scream shook the room again, causing a few stone pillars to crack. "I refuse! I will reclaim my place in heaven if I must tear the sky apart myself!"
Her expression twisted into pure disdain. "And I have to revive the other gods and goddesses to help me. Those useless fools couldn't even revive themselves. Pathetic!"