Dank, dark, dripping coldness surrounded him. It was the only thing he could remember even when he searched his memory far back. Steel loops encased each wrist preciously, looping together they joint up with the wall. He only got a few precious metres to stretch his wasting away limbs, every inch gave him just a tiny bit more of sanity. The same silver metal held his ankles as well causing each move he made into a clanging of music, driving the wearer insane than he could possibly get. Blood encrusted the left shackle, its black-red crystallized form stuck from a series of scars and fresh wounds started at the tip of his wrist down to the third link in the chains. Draping over his bare flesh he wore a tattered shirt and shorts, both a dull cream colour. The boy no more than seventeen years old was currently hunched over, his body shivered, as waves of shudders go through his body. He was dry retching, having had nothing to eat or more importantly drink for weeks on end made him crazy with hunger and blood-lust. Finally the retching stopped and he leaned back, enjoying at least the shivering cold of the concrete wall which surrounded him. His ears pricked hearing that dreadful noise which came every once a week or so. Coming out of the shadows a figure loomed over him, close enough for most his features to be seen but far enough that as the boy in chains got up and with found strength reached out, fangs huge, eyes wild, hands clawing at him, just couldn't reach. The man who started this all, who kept him here stood before him just out of reach which enraged him more.
"Oh my dear son, I brought you some fresh blood and this is how you repay me? By trying to rip me to shreds, I don't know if you deserve it now..." he trailed off, watching his son amused. The boy shook, using all the will power he still possessed to heave himself to the ground and gaze at his father, silently begging.
"That's better... I need to keep your sanity up, your of use in two days time," he stated, handing over a vile containing blood freshly squeezed out of his fathers very veins, this blood was tainted, evil and made the boy sick but he drunk it down greedily. His father watched, dead, cold laughter in his equally dead black eyes. He knew by forcing his beautiful son to drink his blood drove him crazy, but also made it possible for him to have control over him. Letting his head sink to his chest the boy sighed, breathing more easily.
"Now what do you say, my love?" the much, much older man growled. Shaking all over his son answered "Thank you, daddy."His father gave a wide smirk before turning on his heels and walking calmly out. Shivering once again in the gloomy darkness the boy gritted his teeth, his dull silver pupils were just thin slits trying to catch light as he sunk back against the wall once more. What the man had said played over and over in his mind, tormenting him. In two days time, he would either be up for sale again, up for entertainment... or worse than he feared to think, his father would use him for himself. Letting out more shudders from his slim body he gazed to the roof, imagining the stars, wishing for his freedom. Rolling his moist tongue over his fangs he couldn't help but bring his left wrist up and sink the two long teeth into his own flesh, he drank his own blood greedily, trying to rid himself of his father's horrible taste. Even though drinking his own blood was dangerous and lethal he couldn't help it. It too was another way his father controlled him. Blood dripped down his already encrusted lips adding another layer of thick liquid as he leaned back and sobbed quietly.

Again that creaking of the wood, it seemed not to like the darkness any more than that of which it locked inside. It creaked and groaned as if it were alive, to complain about bad bones and how old it was. Right there with it was the ever squeaking of the metal hinges, as the door opened to bring blinding light. A large hand reached down to grab hold of the captives slender arm and bring him to his feet. He gazed up, eyes narrowing from the light behind his father.
"Get up, you need to shower and get yourself ready. We are going to an important meeting of the Vampire Royal Sanction." His eyes got just slightly brighter as he heard these words that meant he would be actually among others, not just being their toy, but an equal. He jumped to his feet, holding out his hands as his father unlocked each shackle, his dead black eyes grazed over the scars along his wrist, with a chuckle which sounded like a tree branch scraping along your window when you just get comfortable in bed in the dead of night.
"You have been biting yourself again, Rekeal? You know that it makes you dizzy and stupid, not to mention if you do it enough, you can die?" Though it seemed like he cared all he was doing was saving his asset, Rekeal thought bitterly. Following his father obediently he was walked out from the dungeon into the bright and expensive castle, leather, cashmere and all sorts of rare velvet adorned the walls, floor and even the roof. Maids or servants waited patiently for a task to be asked of them, their bodies and minds did not wonder as they stood beside doorways or by something that needed someone to work it. Rekeal was lead into a giant room, a mirror hang along the whole side of the room, making it seem like he was just a speck in the reflection. Half way were the mirror was, the room changed into one massive shower, the tiled floors had at least twelve drains, eight shower heads and one massive curtain, the mirror even went into the shower half of the room. Being made insignificant by all this much larger scale rooms and furniture was a table holding on it the vampire princes hair-brush and a few other personal items which he needed to get into shape for going out. Pushing his son into the room, the King kept hold on his son's shoulders, bringing his face up to his sons neck he licked along his pulsing jugular vein he laughed into the neck softly. Letting his fangs extend he grazed them on his soft flesh before pushing him away.
"You are too weak right now for a feeding, but don't think you will get away forever," he purred before walking out of the room. As soon as he heard that door shut with a huff, he fell to the ground, a different type of liquid came from him now, little drips fell to the ground pooling before sinking into the carpet and disappearing. He allowed himself about thirty seconds of sobbing before heaving himself up, looking himself over in the mirror he took off his over used t-shirt. Gazing at his well defined chest and slim features he sighed, he felt like raking his sharp claws over his supple skin ending everyone's fondness of him. But he knew he would most certainly be killed if he did anything of the such, his father over looked the scars on his wrist because it drew him further into his web of controlling, much like a master of puppets pulls the strings, able to move and use his puppet however he wants. Growling low in his throat he turned away from the mirror, sickened. Moving back the curtain he jumped into the giant shower, the water had already been turned on for him, to a soothing warmth. Letting the water flow over his body he let tremors escape him, he kept a lot in but finally in his safe room, alone he let them out. Running a hand through his silver hair he let out quiet sobs and moans. Quickly he rushed about lathering soap upon himself and rinsing it off, he did this with shampoo and conditioner in his hair as well. Stepping out of the shower he grabbed hold of a thick, fluffy towel which he knew had never been used before. Every towel he ever used got burnt and another would be bought to replace it. He dried himself off before wrapping the towel around his hips, letting it hang there loosely. Making his way over to the table he picked up his hair-brush and began to stroke it through his past waist length shining silver hair. Gazing at himself in the mirror still, his reflection mirrored his every move sharply. Growling he once again couldn't stand it any more, pulling back his arm he flung his hair-brush at it. pieces shattered everywhere ringing out was a pretty sound you would expect glistening sounded like. Each shard shone bright twirling in the light of the bulb hanging on the ceiling, before it all seemed to crumble to the ground in one huge simultaneous heap. Jumping back expertly from the glass he hissed through his teeth, landing about two feet back onto the warm inviting carpet he gazed about at what he had done. A giant black hole had been created in roughly the middle of the mirror while huge cracks spanned right out to each edge. He knew there would even be cracks in the shower portion of the glass. A loud bang behind him told of his fathers presence back into the room. With what seemed like a cloud of darkness circling around him, he stalked up to stand right behind his son.
"So despite my telling you. You have disobeyed your Master, your dear old daddy and broken another of my mirrors. I have told you how I get these little things just for you and this," here he pointed his arm over his sons shoulder to directly at the black void, "this is how you repay me." He growled putting his hand down to squeeze his sons shoulder, his long dark nails sinking into his flesh. As if he had practise this religiously, his finger nails didn't piece his skin or leave any marks yet the indescribable pain the ripple through Rekeal's body sickened him. Instantly as soon as his father moved back he fell to the ground, he wouldn't let himself be caught sobbing so he dry retched again and again until finally the pain subsided to a bearable throb.
"Now, next time you receive a gift from your dear father. Do not break it, you hear?" the vampire King asked. Rekeal let out a low groan before nodding, he took deep breaths to steady himself. He got to his knees and his father smiled.
"Now, come crawling faster, obey your Master," he purred, Rekeal shivered on the inside but made a move towards him, he did crawl on his hands and knees over the lush carpet just as instructed. This put a cruel, twisted smile on the King's face, he leant down to help his son to his feet as if he was just a loving father. These false little things were the worst thing Rekeal had to endure but he of course didn't let slip his feelings.
"Now I have gotten you some clothes for the meeting which is to be held in this castle. We will be in the lounge room waiting for you." With that he walked out of the room, maids had already cleaned the floor of any sign there had been broken glass. The mirror was under construction of getting fixed, he noted as a women in her early years came up to him holding out clothes. He grabbed them, in doing so every soul evacuated the room carefully making sure no one could get in or was still in but the prince himself. Grabbing the shorts his father had picked for him he sighed, fitting them delicately to his hips as they reached down to halfway on his thigh. Shaking his head he let the loose fitting shirt slide over his just cleaned body. Wrapping around a beautiful flowing cape, he pinned it around his neck. Checking that the back was adorned with a large black, almost blurry bat with glowing red eyes and huge, demonic fangs. He nodded, the King had made sure their symbol was placed on his cape now. Noting down his father had also got him a bandage to go over his wrist he laughed quietly and bitterly to himself. Wrapping it around his wrist, he made sure he had done everything and that he looked his best or as near to it as he could he walked out the door. Maids rushed back in to get to work, bowing on their way as the prince was wearing the symbol. Rekeal nodded to each of them as he passed and quickly made his way to the lounge room, his father had nick-named it that because out of all the meeting rooms this one had large couches, tables, cushions and hangings. It was very much lavished and lounge-like though it was a meeting room, Rekeal himself hated using this room because this was also the room his father made him parade in when he had guest to entertain.