The Dungeons

Bob POV

The putrid smell of blood was pungent down there. Settled deep under Queen Rowena’s Beverly Hills mansion, the torture chambers and cells, affectionately dubbed “The Dungeons” by our crowd and the Queen herself, housed those who dare incur her wrath, or those who disobeyed. Additionally, children that she fed on, or sold for parts were also there, in a separate wing, in slightly better circumstances. At least they were fed more often than other prisoners. After all, she liked her blood, and buyers of human parts would not pay for damaged goods. It has not always been easy to be in her service, but I was loyal to her, like my father before me, and his before me. Our bond was to Rowena, however maniacal and cruel she could be, we all believed in a word free of half-bloods or hybrids of any kind. Purity was the only thing that saved our species and that could save us; purity of blood ties.

Of course, in the past and now, there were and there are those who disagree, to this day. I