Dracula stood triumphant, the limp body of Lucien's original form dangling from his grip like a broken doll.
Blood - holy blood - stained his lips and chin, its power coursing through him like liquid fire. He could feel it transforming him from within, elevating him beyond even his natural state as the Prince of Darkness.
His gaze fell upon the rising figure before him - Stefan Salvatore's body, but Dracula's enhanced senses perceived far deeper.
What he saw made even his ancient heart falter momentarily.
Darkness.
Not merely absence of light, but something active and hungry - a void so complete it seemed to be ready to devour reality itself.
He had stood before Azazel himself and felt the weight of the yellow-eyed demon's corruption.
This darkness... dwarfed even that.
Something primal within him - the instinct that had kept him alive through countless threats when he was human - screamed in warning.
Run.
Dracula dismissed the thought immediately. His fingers tightened on the child's body before carelessly dropping it to the stone floor with a dull thud. The sound echoed through the vast chamber, punctuating the silence that had fallen between them.
"Look at what you've become," Dracula said, "The Son of God, fallen further than even Lucifer himself. From divine to common demon."
He circled Lucien slowly, footsteps measured and deliberate. Though his instincts continued their warning, he silenced them with cold logic.
After all, hadn't he just consumed the pure blood of God's chosen vessel? That power was his now.
"How disappointed your Father must be," he continued, adjusting the cuffs of his tattered shirt in a gesture of composure so ingrained it had survived even this confrontation. "At least I fell for love - what did you fall for? A meaningless human woman?"
He gestured dismissively toward Elaine, who huddled against the far wall, eyes wide with terror.
Lucien remained motionless, head bowed, those terrible black eyes fixed on the floor. Not even breathing disturbed his stillness.
Emboldened by the lack of response, Dracula approached until he towered directly over Lucien's standing form. The position satisfied something deep within him - the sight of this once-defiant adversary brought low, seemingly broken.
"It is time you submit to me," Dracula declared. "You cannot win now. Prostrate yourself before me and declare me your God. Renounce your Father and become my weapon."
He spread his arms wide, a gesture both imperial and evangelical.
"I will make you stronger than anything this universe has seen. Together, we shall reshape creation itself in my image. The Host of Heaven will tremble before us."
Still nothing. Not a flicker of acknowledgment.
Dracula's lips curved into what might have been a smile on a human face but on his looked more like a predator baring its teeth. He reached down, placing his hand on Lucien's shoulder in a gesture almost paternal.
"My boy, you-"
Lucien raised his gaze.
The impact was instant. No warning, no gathering of power, no gesture or word - just those bottomless black eyes meeting Dracula's for the first time.
The force that erupted from that simple gaze sent Dracula hurtling backward as if struck by a meteor.
His body crashed through one stone wall, then another, and another, each impact punctuated by the sound of breaking bones and crumbling masonry. He finally came to rest embedded in the seventh wall, his body leaving a crater in the ancient stone.
Before he could fully process what had happened, before he could even begin to extricate himself from the rubble, Lucien was there.
Not running, not flying, not using vampire speed - simply there, as if space itself had bent to deliver him precisely where he wished to be.
One moment the spot before Dracula was empty; the next, Lucien stood in it, regarding him with those terrible eyes.
Lucien's hand shot out, fingers closing around Dracula's face with crushing force. With ease he tore the vampire lord from the wall and slammed his head into the floor.
The stone cracked beneath the impact.
Again.
The crack widened.
Again.
The floor began to give way.
Again. Again. Again.
Each impact delivered with mechanical precision, neither slowing nor accelerating, a metronome of violence.
The floor finally surrendered, collapsing beneath them in a shower of dust and debris.
They fell together to a lower level, Dracula's body absorbing the impact as Lucien landed standing on his back.
Without pause, Lucien delivered a single devastating kick to Dracula's spine.
The crack echoed through the chamber like a gunshot, Dracula's vertebrae shattering under the force.
Dracula let out a pained gasp.
The vampire lord's body went limp, his nervous system temporarily severed.
Lucien crouched beside him, grabbing a fistful of Dracula's long hair and yanking his head up to expose his throat. Then, leaning close to his ear, Lucien spoke for the first time since his change
"A common demon?" The words came out as a whisper, cold..
Dracula's eyes were wide as he was forced to listen.
"The one you call the 'Son of God' falls, and you think him a common demon?" A sadistic smile spread across Lucien's borrowed features. "You're lying to yourself out of fear. You can sense what I've become."
He released Dracula's hair, letting his head drop back to the stone floor.
"Let me show you the difference," Lucien said, rising to his full height.
He extended one hand toward Dracula, fingers splayed. "Your blood will boil, but you will not die."
The effect was immediate.
Dracula's body convulsed as his blood began to heat within his veins. Steam rose from his pores as the liquid inside him bubbled and churned, cooking him from within yet never delivering the mercy of death.
"AAAAHHHH!"
His scream echoed through the castle's halls, a sound few had ever heard in the centuries of his existence.
Lucien watched with detached fascination, head tilted slightly as if observing an interesting thing.
When the screams subsided to whimpers, Lucien spoke again.
"Your bones will shatter every time you take a breath."
Dracula's next inhalation triggered a symphony of cracks as every bone in his body fractured simultaneously.
His ribs splintered, piercing lungs that immediately began to heal.
His skull cracked along multiple fault lines, fragments pressing against his brain before vampire healing forced them back into alignment - just in time for his next breath to repeat the process.
Through it all, Lucien circled him slowly, expression thoughtful.
"What did you think would happen?" he asked, his tone almost conversational. "Human souls are considered the most powerful objects in all of Creation for a reason."
Another breath, another chorus of breaking bones, another stifled scream.
"Angels have the most control over the power of the soul," Lucien continued, crouching beside Dracula's writhing form. "And second to them... are demons."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"You pushed the strongest soul in Creation to fall and become a demon. You gave me access to that near bottomless well of power."
A pause as Dracula's body contorted with another shattered breath. "And you thought this would make me easier to control?"
Dracula's eyes, wide with agony, fixed on Lucien's face. Through broken teeth, he managed to rasp, "I... made... you... stronger."
"Yes," Lucien agreed, straightening. "You did."
Without warning, he seized Dracula's right arm and tore it from its socket with a wet, ripping sound. The limb came free in his hand, tendons and muscle fibers stretching before snapping.
"And now I'm going to thank you properly."
What followed was... torture would be too light a word.
Lucien tore Dracula apart piece by piece - first the other arm, then each leg, working with the cold precision of a butcher.
Blood pooled beneath the vampire lord's torso, spreading across the ancient stone in a crimson lake.
Lucien paused, examining Dracula's mutilated form with interest. Then, with nothing more than a contemptuous glance, he focused his will.
He glared at Dracula's lower body.
And castrated him.
Dracula's eyes went wide, his mouth open in a silent scream.
"Feel the pain a thousand fold."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Dracula screamed, and writhed, rolling off the floor, as every part of his being was in agony beyond what he thought possible.
Lucien with a bored look simply watched for a long moment.
"Heal," Lucien finally commanded.
Dracula's vampiric regeneration activated instantly, flesh knitting together, organs reforming, bones realigning.
The Count began to breathe again more easily, relieved at his agony finally over.
Then horror followed.
"Now we can start again," he heard, as Lucien reached for his newly healed arm.
---------------------------
In their scrying chamber deep within the castle, Isaac and Hector stood frozen before the mirrors, witnessing their master's suffering.
The color had drained from Hector's face, his hands trembling as another of Dracula's screams echoed through the magical glass.
"What have we done?" Hector whispered, backing away from the mirror. "That's not- we caused the Son of God to fall! We've created an evil not seen before since Lucifer himself!"
Isaac seized Hector by the shoulders, fingers digging into flesh hard enough to bruise. "Control yourself!" he shouted, his usually composed demeanor cracking. "Our Lord needs us!"
"How?" Hector demanded, gesturing wildly at the mirror where their master was being reassembled only to be torn apart again. "What can we possibly do against... that?"
Isaac's gaze shifted to the second mirror, where chaos unfolded in a different form.
The Originals fighting desperately against the Serpent of Torment.
Their movements and abilities were constrained, trapped within the glowing dome projected by the small girl at their center.
"They cannot leave the barrier," Isaac observed, eyes narrowing. "The divine wrath in the air would destroy even them."
A coldness crossed his features. "I have an idea," he said, turning back to Hector with newfound resolve.
--------------------------
"Sit," Lucien commanded, and Dracula's broken body complied instantly, folding into a kneeling position despite his missing limbs. "Good dog."
Lucien circled his former tormentor like a predator toying with prey, occasionally flicking a finger to cause new torments or repositioning Dracula's body in humiliating poses.
"Please," the word escaped Dracula's lips, perhaps the first time he had uttered it in centuries. "You have... achieved what I intended. The power of a cambion at minimum. You are the Anti-Christ incarnate!"
His voice grew more desperate yet calculating as he continued:
"You could destroy the Host of Heaven with a mere thought. Remake the universe to your design. All this power... all thanks to me! Yes, I made you suffer, but wasn't it worth it? This strength you now possess?"
Lucien paused in his torment, regarding Dracula with those bottomless black eyes. His head tilted slightly, an unsettlingly human gesture from something that no longer seemed quite human.
"Are you actually asking for my bloody gratitude?" he asked, a hint of British accent slipping into his words - an echo of his time with Klaus and Rebekah.
Before Dracula could respond, Lucien's fingers twitched slightly. "Silence," he commanded, and Dracula's mouth sealed shut, his vocal cords paralyzed.
"I think I've heard enough from you for now," Lucien said, turning away as if losing interest in a broken toy.
The castle shuddered suddenly, ancient stone groaning as something massive collided with the upper levels. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling as a thunderous crack split the air.
Before either Lucien or Dracula could react, the vaulted ceiling exploded inward.
"SSSSSSSSSSHHHHH" a mighty hiss was heard from above.
The Serpent of Torment - a writhing mass of smoke and hatred given form -plunged into the chamber, its massive jaws open to swallow Lucien whole.
Lucien didn't move. He didn't raise a hand or speak a word. He simply turned his gaze upward, those bottomless black eyes meeting the Serpent's descent.
The Serpent suddenly froze mid-strike, its massive form suspended in the air as if time itself had stopped. A tremor ran through its smoky body - not from resistance, but from pure, primal fear.
Through the gaping holes in the castle's structure, a massive griffin descended, its wings glowing with ethereal blue-white light.
Elijah Mikaelson's transformation was magnificent - feathers and fur rippling with power as he carried his siblings, Katherine, Nadia, and Trevor Belmont on his back.
They landed amid the rubble, the protective dome of Elena's light still surrounding them as they took in the scene before them: Stefan Salvatore standing over a broken, dismembered Dracula; a red-haired woman cowering against the far wall, eyes wide with terror and tears streaming down her face.
But it was the small form lying motionless on the cold stone floor that drew their collective gaze - Lucien's original body, pale and still, drained of blood.
Empty.
Lifeless.
"No..." The word escaped Klaus's lips as a whisper, his expression shifting from determination to horror. For once, the Original Hybrid seemed genuinely shaken.
Kol grimaced, his usual sardonic humor nowhere to be found. "We're too late."
While the others stared at the child's body, Katherine's gaze remained fixed on Stefan Salvatore, eyes wide.
"No," she said, her voice cutting through the silence. "Lucien isn't dead."
Her hand rose, trembling, tears of joy welling in her eyes as she pointed directly at Stefan's form.
The black-eyed demon who had been torturing Dracula turned slowly to face her, his expression unreadable.
"That," Katherine whispered, "is Lucien."
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it- I'm kinda finishing it right now on my phone in the bus, hope it's good.
Hope you guys are excited for the next one.
I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)