Hey there, my fellow readers and writers. I hope you're doing well with your stories. :) Here's a brand-new Yu-Gi-Oh vampire story I cooked up one day. It's about Yami as a vampire, but one of the good ones. (The reason why is that I think the concept of the vampire as the villain has been way too overdone and is so cliché at times.) I made it so that Yami Lover 33 (who wrote two chapters of the story Vampire Love) probably might pick up some tips from me, and other writers as well. Plus, I made Yami a vampire count of legend — sort of like Dracula, only different. Also, I used inspiration from the movie Dracula 2000 (the film where Dracula is played by Gerard Butler) as well.

Summary: Yami is a vampire count looking for a mate three days before he turns 16 years old. Arella is a young girl looking for someone to love. She becomes Yami's wife, and helps Kaiba, Yami's friend, to find a mate as well. YamixOC, KaibaxOC.

Disclaimer: Genius Kazuki Takahashi owns Yu-Gi-Oh. Bram Stoker (also a genius) owns Dracula, and the geniuses at Dimension Films own Dracula 2000. I own the fanfics that I cook up from time to time.

Blood, Love and Passion

Arella Van Helsing sighed as she looked out her bedroom window. It had been three weeks since she had moved from Oregon to Domino City, Japan with her parents. She was sixteen years old, and had green eyes, pale skin and brown hair. She had a cool personality, she wasn't afraid of most things and she loved to play her guitar. But she still hadn't made any friends.

Her great-grandfather, it was said, was supposedly Abraham Van Helsing, from the 1897 Bram Stoker novel Dracula, but she wasn't sure if that was true or not. In her view, that would likely remain an unsolved mystery.

Her father's name was Simon Van Helsing.

Then to top it all off there were all those dreams she had been having. They had one thing in common — this guy with crimson eyes, teeth that looked like fangs and an odd hairstyle of red, yellow and black hair shaped like lightning bolts...

It was 11:56 p.m. Arella was asleep. The curtains started to flow as a strong gust of wind came through her window. A lean and dark shadow was shown on her bedroom floor as the moon glowed in the night sky. The shadow appeared to be a tall figure with a dark violet outfit and cape, his sleeves stopped at his wrists and his pants fit tight against his legs to the carpet floor. He stood facing Arella when she turned to her side and blinked her eyes opened. There, she was paralyzed by the figure that looked straight at her with his piercing crimson eyes. That is, until he spoke. She clutched her blanket, fear coursing through her.

"Silence, my little child, and give me your hand," he whispered.

"Are you insane? Get out of my room, you... you..."

"Vampire," he said, finishing her sentence. He took her fragile hand as he pulled her out of her bed slowly.

Suddenly Arella was just following his movements, unaware of what she was doing. She was confused and lost her common sense for that moment. Arella was wearing a beige nightgown with short sleeves. The hem dropped to her knees. Before she knew it, their bodies were only inches apart, his right hand took hers and laid it on his cheek while his other hand kept her left hand against the wall. Her eyes were gazing upon his, until she realized what she was doing; the gaze was gone and replaced with fear. He simply smiled.

Then a wolf howled. The vampire's amethyst eyes gleamed. "Listen to them," he said quietly, staring out of the window now. "The children of the night. What sad music they make."

"Do you think it's sad?" Arella asked.

"It's so lonely, like weeping." Yami — for that was his name — turned to her, capturing her for a moment in his eyes.

"I think it's a wonderful sound," she said. "I really love the night. It's so simple."

"And so deceptive," he responded.

"And so exciting," she finished, her voice breathy. Warmth rose in her chest. She turned back to look at him, her heart beating rapidly and her stomach in a flurry.

"You take the dawn for granted," Yami chided, "the warm, hot sunlight. Ah, but the night— " he trailed off, looking wistfully into the darkness.

"Was made to enjoy," Arella finished with a nod.

Yami smiled, then looked down into Arella's eyes. "Yes, yes it was. It was made to enjoy life," he breathed, stroking her hair. "And love." The count continued to stroke Arella's cheek, feeling the shudder of her breath against his skin, warm and inviting. He put his finger under her chin, wordlessly inviting her gaze. But still, she refused.

For a moment Arella realized the danger of being here, with him. She could not deny his magnetism, his charisma that drew her toward him in so many ways. Just one look at him now, this close, so close to him, alone, and she knew she was lost to him.

"Look at me," he commanded.

His voice sent shivers down her spine. She could feel his eyes, and nearly caught them as her eyes flickered halfway up before looking down again.

"Look." And she did, and felt as though her heart had fled her body, replaced by a thousand flittering butterflies. She let out a last shaky breath as he moved closer, his eyes hungry for more than just sight.

Yami caught Arella's gasp in his lips as he kissed her, pressing gently before pulling away playfully and kissing her again. He opened his eyes as his lips left hers and traveled thoughtlessly to her neck, his breath breezing over her creamy skin. Yet his lips did not touch. The satin red lips danced lightly up her neck, and Yami contented himself with gently biting her ear before tenderly kissing away his offense.

"You must forgive me," he breathed, pulling away.

"What for?" Arella smiled, not ready to let him go with mere manners. Her head spun just being close to him, and how he kissed her, like no man had before.

"For intruding on your life," he said with a grin, his arms still around the woman.

"No, I don't mind a bit," she asserted, putting her hand behind Yami's head and pulling him into her kiss.

Yami smiled into the kiss, allowing Arella's lips to press into his, toying with her playfully, pulling back whenever she tried to deepen the kiss. He could feel her trembling beneath his hands, and he knew she was his. He longed to take her, but not like this. The time was not yet right, and too soon anyway.

Wait a minute. Maybe it isn't, he thought.

He then reached for the collar of her nightgown, untied the strings, swung her into his arms like Frank Langella's Dracula in the 1979 movie Dracula (which he had seen the night before), walked back over to the bed and laid her down. Then he got on top of her. She looked confused.

"I need your blood," he purred...

Arella shook her head, trying to get those dreams out of her mind.

"Man, I'm lonely," said Arella as she continued to look out her window. Then she began strumming her guitar gently.

Just as Arella began to play a melody, the vampire was striding by her home. He stopped and listened.

"What on earth is that sound so late at night? It is beautiful, yet so depressing," said the vampire. His real name was Atem, but he preferred being called Yami.

At the moment, he was looking for someone to marry. There was a law of vampires that said all vampires had to be married before they turned sixteen, and Yami was turning sixteen in 3 days.

"Well, might as well check it out," he decided.

"What on earth?" said Arella. Her parents were out of town; this was lucky for Yami, as he had just landed on her bedroom windowsill.

"Who are you?" whispered Arella.

"My name is Yami," Yami replied with a bow. "Tell me, child — who was making that beautiful melody?" he asked. "And another thing — who are you?"

"My name is Arella, and that was me playing my guitar," said Arella, still shivering in fright.

Yami looked her over. She really was gorgeous. Brown hair — nothing special there — bright green eyes, and an incredible body. He smiled.

"Wow," he purred. "You're beautiful."

He reached up and placed a hand on her cheek. She couldn't help but blush.

"Thanks," she said. "But most people don't think so. I've been called ugly all my life."

"Oh, Arella, don't think that way. You are beautiful, and I choose to believe that," said Yami comfortingly.

Arella then remembered the dream she had had the night before — only it was a different one...

As the night breeze wafts through her window, there is a lost traveler in her hair and on her skin. He is green as life and fertile sin, incorporeal as a dream, and drenches her in a touch more dizzying than any drink. A voice, more familiar than her own flesh, echoes in the shell of her ear and all loneliness vanishes. There are roses in his words and gleaming white thorns in his mouth. He has come home to her. She is found. More than that, she will never be lost again — he will never again let her go, or allow any force to divide them.

There is something wrong, an intuitive corner of her mind protests — there is a hint of dead meat on his breath, and fresh blood on his lips. Despite this, she gives herself utterly to him. The air hanging about her may be foul, but its taste is sweet, conjuring powerful memories of her first taste of absinthe and passion. There was always a darkness walking in him, but Arella no longer fears it and no longer cares about the damage it may inflict on her, for she can face and endure it.

It has hurt him too, and he needs her. He is of the earth, of lands unknown, of primal instincts and dark, pounding, restless animal blood, but with her he is gentle and loving. He governs the elements but he does not govern her.

Something dances on her flesh, and Arella feels his hands. A smoking, coiling mist plants chill kisses on her as it creeps up her form, causing her body to shiver and her blood to heat. He glides over her legs, across her small hips and up her belly, softening and curling at her breast and tasting her heart's beat. He clutches at that precious heartbeat and moves and flows with its music. He cleaves to her throat, sighing around her sleeping face. At the sound of his voice, she aches with him. The feel of him as he is now, the briefest sensations of skin, is a waiting world of pleasure. Green whispers, ethereal snakes on her mouth, coil over her throat and lips, carrying caresses that are familiar to her most cherished and shameful dreams.

Her hitched breath is rising steam as her mouth forms uncomprehending whispers and pleas that shudder through her. Unable to understand or escape from her own feelings, she throbs and thirsts for him. Her fingers twitch, reaching for him, and meet only air and mist, passing hopelessly through him as he flows around her seeking hand. A stray tendril lingers at the wrist, over her racing pulse, and feels the blood sway within her as her hands grip hopelessly at the bedsheets.

He settles over her like a shroud, but does not stifle her. Instead, her limbs loosen, accepting his touch as he swirls over her, sampling her everywhere. Her mind is aloft and adrift as Arella grapples with her desire, her inexplicable connection to him and unceasing need for him, and her resolve has never been clearer. Breathless and smiling, she yields both her soul and every part of herself to his touch as a commanding, caressing hand reaches through veils of sleep and mystery, and traces her face...

Arella then looked at Yami as he looked into her eyes. Apparently, he must've seen what she had seen.

Then, all of a sudden, his amethyst eyes glowed all red. Red was one of his favorite colors. It symbolized blood, anger and violence. But moreover, it was the feared symbol of bloodlust.

And then with that, her emerald eyes also glowed red for a moment, and then became blank, showing her will was not hers anymore. It belonged to him now.

Yami took her into his arms and placed his mouth over hers. He felt his fangs lengthening, but told them to wait, and they did.

He reached into her mind, and calmly smirked at what he found...

Well, what do you think? Nice feedback is very much appreciated, of course. :)