The mood was somber as they all assembled there
around the priest in the middle of the town square.
Most had heard about what had recently taken place
and knew of the challenges that would be faced.

The priest pleaded for anyone with the right stuff
to step forward if they were indeed brave enough
and volunteer for this extremely dangerous chore
to battle it out with this creature of lore,

but everyone knew exactly what lay in store
as the priest urgently continues to implore:
importuning to not only the great, but the small
to heed this summoning and answer this call.

Stepping boldly forth there came a woman most fair;
her willingness she more than eagerly declares.
Again, the priest for volunteers does solemnly plead:
is there no MAN who will carry out this deed?

Reluctantly she was given sword and a knife;
these with cross shaped handles would help defend her life.
Adding to these a silver crossbow with wooden stakes;
as well as gauntlets and an amulet she takes.

Setting out upon a horse that she calls Nike;
so named for the ancient goddess of victory,
brave, young Lora has thus begun a most epic quest:
which will sorely put her mettle to the test.

Up to a castle chiseled out of ice cold stone
she rides on towards her destiny all alone.
Before her destination she's able to obtain
she is forced to abruptly her steed in rein.

For the single rider which causes her delay
she bends an ear to hear that which he has to say.
Damon is the name that he does impart to her.
When he's finished speaking she rightly concurs.

Passing over the drawbridge that crosses the moat:
it was the bloodsucker that they both had come to smote.
Once completely inside the castle they made their way
down through halls of corpses reeking with decay.

Outside the castle the moon has risen in full:
Damon could feel its power at him strongly pull.
For the moment as the situation now did stand
he'd be unable to lend Lora a hand.

When she discovered from her Damon had gone
Lora could do nothing else but to carry on.
She moved swiftly along traversing ever forward
till she was struck still by a slight noise she heard.

Imagining the laying down of stone cold feet
she hastily began to make good her retreat.
Quickly discovering the un-dead all around
with no where to run she had to stay her ground.

For horror of horrors, all hope soon did crumble
as too late Lora realized she had stumbled
into the midst of a virtual vampire nest
just as the sun is settling in the west.

But not being one to simply give up the fight
she withdraws the sword from its sheath with all her might:
the handle's cross exacting absolutely no weight
against creatures with a taste for blood in sate.

Given, at the moment, no other avenue
Lora knew just exactly what she had to do;
for she would assuredly make those she could to feel
the unleashed power of her cold, killing steel.

She might go down, but she would not do it alone:
a quick jab forced through each of their hearts lay some prone.
Still, more than enough of them did solidly remain;
thus ensuing over the outcome to reign.

Switching the blade into the grasp of her left hand
she removes her knife seeking to strengthen her stand:
for taking it from its mounting place on her wrist guard
she had hopes of her foes advance to retard.

Though fighting bravely these weapons make little gain:
seeming all the more sure her efforts were in vain.
Against such a horde there was just ruefully no ruse;
so could there be any doubt that she would lose?

By this time Lora had her back up to a wall
and there was just no hole into which she could crawl.
She sought to release the spring lock on her right gauntlet;
however it was with disappointment met,

for somehow while she struggled to keep them at bay
the mechanism was broken during the fray.
Fear gripped hold on her as death or even worse loomed nigh.
Undaunted, she would put forth another try.

Hanging close at her side is the silver crossbow:
her only means left of sending a fatal blow.
Dropping all the bolts while she it so hard tries to load
she sees hope of defending herself erode.

While the intruder they are certain to best
there is one who sets himself apart from the rest.
As he presses in towards her Lora's heart nearly cries
as she at once does him fully recognize,

for Andrus, at one time, had been her fiance.
While whose change in sides his actions clearly display.
Spinning around he defiantly confronts his kind.
With him beside her renewed hope she does find.

His fangs barred at them in an aggressive display
showed them enough proof of his intent to betray.
Where Damon was in all this she did not truly know
as just the two of them faced this mighty foe.

His assistance giving her a much needed break:
just the chance she required to regain the stakes.
So with bolts a flying and pointed teeth a gnashing
the pair give their adversaries a bashing.

Though much more in number than she had bargained for,
at their total, the pair eventually wore;
battling until each of them has been defeated:
a kind mercy to these has thus been meted.

On padded feet Damon silently in does slink
towards a primal calling from which he will not shrink.
Coming across those who previously had been felled;
down the hallway it was Lora's scent he trailed.

So to the master vampire's quarters they head;
both she the living, and he who is an un-dead.
Down the corridor they with the utmost caution went:
to destroy one named Dailor was their intent.

Dailor's chamber was one of perpetual gloom.
Her eyes strain as she searches about the room.
An empty coffin she does eventually spy;
wondering if perhaps he's lurking nearby.

Turning around, Lora is stopped dead in her tracks
for she beheld Dailor hovering at her back.
She stands shaking and shivering when he gets too near;
her knees keep trembling in absolute fear.

Without warning a set of fangs into flesh seep
as Lora's ticker takes a giant, wild leap:
for Andrus once again rallies to his love's rescue;
inserting himself squarely between the two.

With gnashing teeth and fangs on and on they battled
till the castle was filled with the sounding rattle.
Then Dailor sucks back the energy force he had gave
sending Andrus peacefully to his grave.

Now my sweet I will make you my dominant queen
Dailor utters while over Lora he does lean.
His mouth cracked open in a triumphant smile:
this action to her is utterly vile.

A fury of grizzled fur at Dailor attacks,
but it's access to the vampire's throat he lacks.
During the fight which ensued blood was shed twixt the two
till against the wall the man turned wolf flew.

Because the werewolf had timely interceded
he had bought her the precious minutes she needed;
for now gripped securely in her fist she laid hold
the thing that would stop one such as Dailor cold.

The amulet's contents she with deft intent pours
through that pair of lips that she vehemently abhors.
The blessed water does cause his body with flame to burn
while back into dust and ashes he returns.

She wheels to discover that the werewolf is gone:
abandoned there to face alone the coming dawn.
Now that light was returning to the once darkened sky
it was high time that she bid this place good-bye..

With the new day breaking she gamely takes her leave:
treading down corridors with sighs of relief;
beyond undisturbed chambers she chillingly does pass
exuberant that Dailor had been the last.

She tells herself again that there's nothing to fear,
so she tries to muster herself up some good cheer;
for naught had stirred not even the proverbial rat:
let alone the half expected noisome bat.

Then a most disturbing thought came into her mind,
if she chose to unseal the cells what would she find?
So to put that idea completely out of her head
she circumvented the area instead.

Yet a strange, unnerving feeling haunted het still;
for something sent up her spine a chill.
Ahead of her it seemed something had certainly stirred,
though what she couldn't tell because it was a blur.

Could she have been just merely hallucinating?
This she ponders as she fixes the gauntlet's spring.
Whatever may come she was going to be ready,
she muses while willing her nerves to steady.

Proud as she was of her great miraculous feat
she assured herself it was one she would not repeat;
for the villagers would now dwell in safety once more
and life could return to how it was before.

She had ventured into the realm of vampires.
Alone she rides out content, but oh so tired.
Traveling back along the path on which she had come;
well satisfied her work was over and done.

Thinking back to the events just recently passed
numerous regrets into her mind had been cast;
as she felt true remorse for each of those she had known,
yet there was only one way the wind could have blown.

Thoughts interrupted as coming up to her side
the wolf again in the form of a man does ride.
The two reflect on the hard victory that was won
as they together journey after the sun.

Author Notes

This work was made from a story idea I had. Though the theme itself is not unique I thought I would change it up a little by putting it into poetic form.