A/N: Here's another chapter... time flies, I guess. I can't even remember writing the first chapter. Last chapter I was so proud to have finally written chapter 10, but strangely "chapter 11" excites me more! I'm just weird, I guess. Maybe it's the fact that there are two number ones in it XD

This is partially a version of chapter 7 from Dylan's point of view, and it is written a bit different than I'm used to. A bit more like my poetry, I'm afraid. Should keep those two separated though XD

Anyways, chapter 11:

He's my Master, I'm his slave. He's my keeper, I'm his pet. He's my God, and I'm his worshipper. He's my All, and I'm his nothing.

Chapter 11

P.o.v. Dylan

The night was clear and with his perfect vision, he easily picked up every movement of the humans beneath him. He was sat on a roof, needing a moment to think over what was already done. He expected his Master to come to him soon to find out his story, so he needed to clear his mind of all unimportant things, and to dig up the memories. Not as hard as it would be for humans; he had a perfect memory, thanks to his Master.

His Master had made him into what he was, not only had he made him into this wonderful, powerful creature, but he had raised him, taught him how to be obedient to him and how to hunt, survive, seduce, and all those things.

His Master was everything; and soon, with the girl by his side -or rather in his dungeons- he would force that filthy and weak traitor of a "prince" on his knees. After that, his Master would kill him slowly, without mercy, and take over the throne, to lead the vampiric empire back to its glory, back to its nature. His Master would take over the world, make humans submit, and make everything better that way. Everything would be in the right order. Vampires above, humans and mutts, "werewolves" and others like them, at the bottom of it all. Slaves and toys, as they were supposed to be.

But first the girl. Memories... 

He closed his eyes and thought back to that moment in the hallway, when he was so close to biting that little girl, Christina, when that Blood-traitor intervened and made him stop. Reluctantly he had let her go, watching from the shadows how Christina threw herself into Alexander's arms and he carried her away from there. Just disgusting. If Christina were supposed to be in someone's arms, it would be in his Master's arms.

He had watched her closely, studied her every movement, followed her home every night and watched how she was always alone after school. Her mother left early every day, and would come home late at night. He had told his Master all about her, and her enticing blood. He watched as it became obvious that she was the soul mate of that bastard, Alexander. His Master found that little fact very interesting, and ordered him to attack her the following night. So he did.

He sneaked up on her so easily; humans were so weak, and defenceless against his kind. It was so funny to play with them. He called out to her, and she looked at him in shock; and he saw the first signs of fear in her eyes. When she wanted to scream, he ran behind her in his super-vampire-speed (one of the things he loved about being what he was) and he held his hand over her mouth. His arm wrapped itself around her and pressed her against his chest.

'Shh... relax, little girl,' he whispered in her ear. She stiffened in his hold and he could almost sense the waves of fury rolling off of her. He laughed a bit at that. He dragged her along, finding it funny that her feet dragged over the street and that she struggled so much against him, panicked. He could smell her fear.

She probably thought he was going to kill her. 

So stupid. He would just give her a quick glance of what her future with his Master would be like. He would just have a small taste of her, preparing her for his Master. He found the perfect alley to do so just a few miles away from where he picked her up. He pushed her against the wall.

'Hush,' he began, 'I won't hurt you if you cooperate, beautiful. Now, I'm a vampire, accept that fact. Let it sink in for a moment... Good. Your "boyfriend",' he said sarcastically while she stared at him as if he had completely lost his mind, 'is a vampire too. Not just any vampire. He's a prince, soon to take the crown, when he finds his soul mate, that is. Your friends aren't human either, sweetheart, they're werewolves.

But it doesn't really matter. What matters is that your blood smells so fucking delicious and I want it... and not for just a quick moment. I'll take you, my dear, and there's nothing you can do at it.'

She stared at him and he couldn't help but chuckle again. He heard her take a deep breath and then she stuttered: 'You're absolutely crazy! You really believe that you're a-a... a vampire?!'

He laughed coldly at that. 'I am a vampire, darling.'

He grabbed her wrist and pulled it towards his mouth. His lips curled up and his sharp fangs came out, ready for the bite. He sank his fangs into her vein with more force than necessary, which made her yelp. She went weak in his arms and fell against his chest, which was his queue to push her even further against the wall. He wrapped his other arm around her as well, and closed his eyes at the taste of her blood.

It tasted even better than he had expected it to taste.

It was truly addicting. He wanted more, much more, but he knew he had to stop. It was for his Master. She was for his Master. But he wouldn't pull away. Not yet. He looked down at her face and when she looked back at him and saw his red eyes, she screamed and pulled away. Fury ran through him at that and his eyes turned black. Only his surprise when she pulled away, had allowed her escape his grip. He growled deeply, warning her not to move any further away from him. He launched at her and picked her up with ease, pushing her up against the wall.

'Don't you. Ever. EVER! Pull. Away. From. Me. Again!' He dropped her to the ground after that, where she fell to his feet. She started crying. He grinned. Master would be content.

'Good memory, Dylan,' a cold, yet smooth voice said. Dylan knew immediately who that was.

'Master,' he said, bowing his head at him. A gloved hand touched the top of his head lightly. 'Thank you for all the information. And after you left her there?'

'He came for her, my Master. He carried her away from there after she fainted and brought her to his house.'

'And the security there?'

'There are guards around the house, but he didn't get more guards to watch her, Master.'

'Good, Dylan. You've been a good helper. Now, get up.' Dylan stood up as fast as he could, his head down, not daring to look into his Master's eyes. He was just a slave, a servant, and he had no right to look his almighty Master, his God, directly in the eyes.

'Now, let me taste the blood you got from her. Give me your hand.' The gloved hand brought Dylan's wrist up to his Master's face and he smelled at his veins. 'Ah, that smell... Delicious. Even though it is a bit ruined by your blood -which I still enjoy-, it still smells this good... It must be truly irresistible. Too bad for you that you cannot and will never have a full taste of her. She is mine, and her blood too. So I will now take the blood you got from her, as it is my right to do so.' 

At those words, he bit down painfully in Dylan's wrist, sending his venom into Dylan's veins, which burned like hell.

After a few long, torturous moments, his Master let go and Dylan dropped to his feet. His Master bent over him a bit and his hand went through his hair, stroking it. 'I will go now. Keep an eye on her for the next three days, and then come home to me, pet.'

His Master disappeared into the air, and Dylan sat there, dreaming happily about his Master.

He would do anything to please him. Anything.

And soon, the Master would have what was rightfully his.

Dylan smiled at that thought.