THE LONG WAIT IS OVER!

I know, I know – I got alllll your messages and beautiful and insightful reviews! (and a couple people who didn't like it but they won't see this anyway since obviously they didn't wait until the last hapter to review *squints at you – you know who you are*)

You guys are what made sure I didn't just abandon everything…which I'm not planning on doing! All those encouraging, eager messages! There were a lot of them. Like, a lot. But hopefully you all didn't up and die of anticipation so someone is behind to see how our favorite vampire and adventurer wind up, eh? Special thanks to (in no particular order):

CosmicIllness

JayKay – Cookie for you! With little teeth marks!

Bandit-Chan

Emma

Countdraculoh – cookie! For you! Cosmic vampire cookie!

chelsrox14

laurenngoesrawr

looking4wonderland

Invisible

DragonHeart – you especially! Cookie for you!

Elisablackcat

Cinamon Stick

MarshallLeeLover

AliceCards – big tasty Fiona cookie for you!

KucySeddieAuslly14

Crispy nipple

Sassy Unicorn

3

anaran98

NotSoNormalLady – yes tasty cookie for you as well! You were so nice!

Yooooooo

Monkey Butt

Peyton

Shippr

Anom

Dessi

Victoria

Impatient lil

Lillels

Finnismathmatical – COOKIE. Because you're nice. With star-shaped sprinkles. Of blood.

(Ha! Bet you thought I forgot about you didn't you?! Yes – you, reading this, right now. If your name isn't above, my sincere apologies. I'm sort-of terrible at remembering…names. So – sorry! Hopefully this makes up for it! Ok, you can read now.

The now oversized zombie cat nodded and jumped through the curtain, snarling like a possessed lion, spittle flinging from his fangs. As the crowd quieted, Morttus's growl dulled to a reverberating hiss and finally a growl. Marshall jumped through the curtain, onto the balcony railing beside Morttus, two large bat wings emerging from his back to engulf the balcony (and momentarily hide Fiona). Marshall snarled, Morttus and the filling the room with their timbre. Finally, it tapered off as the crowd cheered – all manner of demon and dark being worshipping their master. Some began consuming others, some fought; some copulated or howled in delight at the sight of their soon-to-be mated King. Marshall hissed, his tongue flicking out, letting a subtle current of his power wash over the demons residing, quieting them, demanding their full attention. Marshall stood completely upright to let his wings relax; Morttus lounged on the railing, tail twitching. Fiona emerged from behind Marshall and glared down at the demons. She smiled, which made the crowd howl – a show of teeth was a show of power. Marshall licked his lips and began.

"Demons of my realm, under my rule, I present you Fiona – my mate. She who will quench my fires and uphold my law. She who will offer me heirs and power. She of dark and light slayer of the land of Aaa! Hear me and obey! I claim her, her blood for my venom resides inside her, her body for I have taken what is mine, her soul for I have claimed her as mate, as she has mine! I, Lord of Darkness, King of the Rotten and Foul, Destroyer of Light, and your Master rule it as so! Speak now those who oppose and step forward so that I may show you my vow with your blood on my hands and your entrails strangling your spawn! Step forward so I may relieve you of your bones and suck the marrow from your wife! Defy me and perish to The Void!" He snarled, his hand very gently around Fiona's neck as a show that he had power over his mate – to show that his mate would not relieve him of his throne. Morttus jumped from the balcony and flew over the crowd, repeating his mantra so that all could hear. No challenger stepped forth. Marshall snarled, black venom dripping, radiating with his power. He roared, his hand slightly tighter around Fiona's neck, making her gasp. The crowd slowly bowed, submitting to his rule.

In unison the demons and other dark beings below him swore the oath:

"We serve thee, my Master, my Lord; we serve thee and thy mate. We serve as the Tablet rules. We see strength and courage in thy mate, for thy Mate is of a warrior blood in fair of hair and bright of eye. She is taken from the Light and corrupted with your Darkness. We bow to thee. We obey."

Marshall nodded pulled Fiona to his chest, his hand still gripping her throat, and whispered

"Scared yet, bunny?" She glared and growled "I am not afraid." She felt Marshall smile against her neck, his blackened venom dripped onto her skin making it tingle and freeze. He slowly pulled her back from the balcony. Once the curtains closed, he leaned against the far wall, swaying on his feet. He slowly slid to the ground, his wings shuddered and slowly re-absorbed, transforming back into his shoulder blades just as Morttus flew back through the curtain. Once settled he resumed his smaller form, folding in his wings. Marshall sighed and let his fangs slowly diminish until they were smaller. They still protruded slightly from his mouth, but they were no longer the sabers they had been. His nails shortened, but remained blackened, and his eyes took far longer but eventually returned to their normal less demon-like look.

"So…that was weird." Grumbled Fiona, rubbing her neck

Marshall smiled. His teeth had gotten longer, his eyes somehow…darker. His nails were black and pointed. But he still smiled like her Marshall.

"Sorry about that. C'mon, we hav to go to the council and then…the Tablet."

She nodded resolutely and took his hand.

It was freezing.

Fiona and Marshall walked into a large arena lit by torches. Had Fiona ever had a history lesson, it would remind her of gladiators and Rome. Standing in the center of the arena stood six tall figures clad in robes. At the center of the arena, behind the hooded figures, was a large stone table with bodies being piled on it by the six hooded figures. Had she counted, she would have known there were ten sacrifices, and that the mangled corpses had died through a great deal of torture. The bodies were slowly absorbed by the deep black Tablet and it did not reflect the light. Marshall grasped her hand tightly. Fiona glanced down at their hands and smiled. No point in trying to save the dead.

"You're worried aren't you?" She whispered as they walked towards the figures.

"I…it's just….yes."

"Well don't worry. I'm not Gumball. I can fight. I'm a warrior, an adventurer. Besides, I've killed skeletons and ghosts and dragon-fish and I banished the Lich. So, this won't be that different. I explore dungeons for fun, remember?"

"Yes…but I also recall that you seemed to have a bit of difficulty fighting me off. And these are demons. Worse, their hungry demons. And you my little adventurer are a prime cut."

Fiona snorted "Yeah well I'm not dinner. I'm dessert. And I don't think any of the demons here have been eating their greens."

Marshall smirked.

They reached the Tablet, and Marshall turned their bound hands over so that their wrists were facing up. The tallest of the hooded figures pulled a red, pulsating dagger from his cloak and pulled their hands apart. He cut each of their hands. Fiona gasped at the cut. It looked very deep, but her arm was numb. They rejoined their hands. The dagger was laid upon the Tablet and slowly absorbed. A low hum filled the arena.

The council locked hands around them and the Tablet and began a truncated whisper.

"Testimonium, et cum potential sit sanguis eorum impressione"

Fiona felt an icy burn start between their hands. She could feel Marshall's blood, crawling to meet her own, inside her. She felt it crawling up her arm. It flowed and mixed with her own blood, making her skin go pale from its passing. She looked up at Marshall. He was breathing heavy, a dark flush over his cheeks. He panted. Where she was freezing, he was burning.

Marshall felt like his arm was on fire. He could feel her blood forcing its way up his arm, intermingling and burning. His skin flushed at its passing, outlining each of his veins in red. He panted, gasping at the air. If this kept up, surely he'd burn!

Fiona shivered and felt her heart pound, trying to force its dominance over the invading cloying blood. Her arm was numb and freezing. It ached. She could feel the icy tendril crawling ceaselessly to her arm. She was going to freeze to death if it reached her heart!

Marshall shuddered and felt the fire closing in on his heart. He looked at Fiona and watched her eyes widen as her own stuttered. He felt agony spiral through his chest as his heart fluttered and then beat. Fiona gasped and grabbed her chest, coughing. He groaned and slid to his knees, his body awash in heat, in her fire.

"Fiona…" he groaned

She gasped; her breaths forming less and less fog in the cold arena.

"Marshall…" her voice was whisper quiet. Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back limply.

He puffed out a cloud with every breath, his eyes widening. He could see every vein in her. They twisted through her like a spiders web, like fine tree branches until they were thread-thin. He groaned and felt the hunger rise in himself. He leaned forward, her blood, her sweet hot blood on the air, and let his teeth sink into her bared neck. Immediately he knew something was wrong. Her blood was cooling, coagulating. She wasn't breathing. He drank one tentative mouthful. It was thick and bitter. He gagged and gasped, wrenching his teeth free from her. The wound trickled a single drop, and then no more. It healed, closed.

"Fi…? Fi!"

She gasped and shuddered, and suddenly began biting at his neck, her flat teeth weak and ineffective. He grunted at her snarling breaths and struggled to pull their hands free.

He couldn't. It was like they were sewn together. He gasped and pulled his other hand around, using his nails to make a cut in his throat. She lapped greedily and bit at the wound, keeping it from closing. She drank…and drank…Marshall started to feel light-headed. Their hands dripped ruby ichor and slid apart, dropping to the dust. He slumped to the ground. Fiona let him fall, her stare blank and unseeing.

"It is done" rasped one of the hooded figures. They grabbed Marshall around the arms and began pulling him from the arena. He tried to struggle but found he couldn't pull from their grasp. In a matter of minutes he was dragged from the arena. A dark, wine-tinged dome spread over the arena opening. Marshall was dragged to small bench, meant for viewing. At the center of the arena slumped Fiona, next to the Tablet. All around her was nothing but dust.

Fiona blinked and looked down at her blood covered hand. In it rested a familiar word with a familiar silver hilt. The ring Marshall gave her must have formed into a sword. Her blood dripped from the handle, tainting the silver red. Her blood lit up an inscription on the handle. It read "Feed Me the Blood of the Enemy and I Shall Bring You Glory". It felt like air in her palm, like an extension of herself. She grasped it tightly and felt her own pulse flow through the sword making it throb. The beautiful azure blue blade slowly became dark until it glittered like onyx. This wasn't a game. Her blood was one with Marshall's. She could see the influence his blood had on the sword. Aside from the coloration, the handle curved outward, towards the blade into sharp, curved points. The handle molded to her palm, and drank greedily of her wound. She loosened her grip slightly to see that the cut was healing closed, the sword taking up the residual blood from the ritual. She looked down at the sword, her sword. It pulsed at her attention frantically until she stood up. It didn't want her to look weak when he enemies were near. Ten demons. She would fight ten upper class demons. She breathed slowly, her breaths coming strong. She would cover the ground with their blood. She gripped her sword, and waited.

A slow groan filled the arena as a large wooden door strained to open. Fiona swallowed and braced herself. The door was pulled up, inch by inch, and from the darkness behind it walked ten demons clad in armor and skin, with weapons of bone and claw, tooth and nail, sword and shield. The first to charge was a sickly looking creature, pale in the extreme with great whitish, bulbous eyes and thin gangly limbs. It snarled. It had little in the way of cloth or armor save but for a loincloth, but its teeth were jagged and sharp. It held a dagger in its gnarled hand. It ran towards her on all fours, and smelled of rotten fish and sewage. She roared and charged at it – sword held high. It sprung at her with a snarl – right onto her blade. Black ichor spilled over her sword, onto the ground. It clawed at her and grabbed tufts of her hair and clothes until finally, it succumbed and slid from her sword. Fiona curled her lip at the being. If this was the competition, she would easily win. She shook her head at the pitiful form.

Of course, that's when all hell broke loose.

A torrent of demons sprang from the doorway – right towards her. Three were small ugly bat-like creatures with jagged teeth and one long claw on each wing. They took to the air, squawking and shrieking – filling the arena with their noise. Next up came a large beast of some sort. Its front legs were longer than the back, giving it an odd walk. Its long claws didn't help it retain any grace with its humped back. It was covered with brown coarse hair and warts. Its mouth was curled into a yellowed snarl. It's small, beady eyes locked onto her and it growled its challenge. Fiona glared as it charged, its distorted run pounded at the dirt. She ran towards it and quickly dropped and slid under it, cutting it from its throat all the way to its hairy tail. It roared, turned, and dropped to the ground. She smirked, and was immediately descended upon by the bat-things. She covered her eyes as they cut at her arms with their bony claws. Fiona winced and slashed at them – but as soon as one moved out of her range another would swarm at her – scratching her face. She huffed at them and kept swinging – keeping them at bay. They took to the air again. She wiped her brow. She was wasting energy. She imagined a supple bow, with a quiver of fast and true arrows. She looked down to see a black blow and a quiver of pulsing red arrows. Her new sword's transformative abilities were definitely an improvement. She loaded one, and missed. She had never shot a bow at a creature flying around. "Dammit!" She grumbled. She shut her eyes and imagined the arrow piercing one of the foul bat-things. She loaded another arrow and pulled the string back as far as she could.

"Hey – bat brains!" She screamed. The creatures turned just as she loosed another arrow. It pierced through the chest of one and the wing of another causing both the dead and injured creature to fall to the ground. The third went ballistic and dove at her like a harpy, ripping at her. It ripped the bow from her hand but didn't get far before it reformed to her hand, a sword once again. She glared at the thing as it turned, returning for another attack. However, as it closed in she feigned right and sliced left, causing the now spasming creature to collide with her sword, effectively slicing it in half, along with getting ichor all over her face. She curled her lip and spit, trying to make sure none of the foul substance got in her mouth. She coughed and shook, adrenaline pounded in her veins. She was a warrior, and she was made to fight. She ran over to where the two bat-witches had fallen, the one that had injured its wing flapped against the ground in a panic, screeching.

"Puny hu-man! Stupid mor-tal!" It jabbered, slicing at her with its one free, undamaged wing. The other was pinned under its companion's body. Fiona glared at the thing.

"I am stronger than you because I have survived…naked vulture bat." She finished her sentence by raising her sword and cut the creatures head from its long neck.

But what she saw when she lifted her eyes to the remaining creatures rushing from the doorway made her almost wish she could take those words back. What she was staring at – was herself.

Five down! Five demons to go!

You've all been so…PATIENT. There was a surprising lack of bloodlust from you guys so thanks for that! Look at you all nice…kind…non-violent…ummm…ok. Honestly I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. I'm so sorry! College! Money! I need a job! Life! My pet mouse needs to see a vet! *sigh* so, I've decided to see if I can get a beta? Eh? Maybe? Someone to prod me on late Sunday nights to write and look over my stuff and be all *squint* "What on Terra Firma are you trying to say here…exactly?" So yeah. Any offers?