Title: Fraying Reins
Description: --For the distinguished Ms. Akakios
Romax - July 7, 2007 12:09 AM (GMT)
He might not have needed to breathe, but harsh pants scored his throat as he pressed a hand against the rough brick wall. Blood dripped slowly from his fingers, warm as a bath. It stained his shirt, his pants, trickled slowly to the grimy asphalt. He lifted a hand, staring at it with wild eyes.
The normally neat, typically tidy Professor Finch had a wild look about him in general. Not only were his deep blue eyes glaring, his clothes were torn and stained with blood. He winced when he moved, the motion sending a fresh wave of pain through his entire body. Glancing down at himself, he ripped off the remains of his shirt. Beneath were wounds no man could have survived.
Across his torso were deep tears; in some places the skin was ripped all the way down to bone. Ribs gleamed white against the red muscle in one place where the flesh had been completely torn away. Over his shoulder, through the old scars, jagged fragments of glass pierced all the way through him.
Romax gritted his teeth, the scream turning into a muffled grunt as he closed his unbroken fingers of the spike and yanked it free. It broke when he dropped it to the ground. And he nearly went down as well.
He could heal, but he needed to feed.
Feeling desperate and vulnerable, which he was, he staggered through the alley with a hand on the brick wall for balance. Ahead of him, he could see people. Two girls and a guy, all wearing what culture termed as 'gothic' clothes. They were heading for this hardcore club they'd heard about. Had Romax realized where he was, it might have occurred to him that what he was doing might be considered poaching.
As it was, rational thought had fallen to the wayside.
Dragging all three to him with a thought, his fangs erupted as he blindly bit down wherever he could. Blood, hot and thick, gushed over him--into him--as the fangs tore through flesh like steel and his grip broke bones.
Nafretiri - July 7, 2007 08:24 PM (GMT)
Up in her room, small hands pushed the ledger closed. The tiny writing was hidden behind a brown leather cover. Without standing up, Euthalia handed it to Cheveyo – the only person she could trust with it – and he left with it. Left alone, she sat in her expensive chair beside her tea table, one ankle curled behind the other. Having finished the accounts for the evening, there really was nothing left for her to do.
A gasp to the side of her made Euthalia have to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Standing, she put her hands behind her back and walked towards the vampire chained to the wall. The white of his eyes was visible as she stood face to face with him. Suddenly, she smiled.
“You’re thinking of tearing off my face with your teeth.”
The vampire tried to make himself smaller, tried to find someplace to hide between the floor and the wall. That was all the confirmation she needed. She wasn’t a telepath, but she could read people – and she knew what she would’ve done.
“That wouldn’t have been polite,” she said with a voice that suggested it was she who was the mommy in this situation. “There would have been blood everywhere.” A look at the blood pooled beneath this vampire. “More, anyways. And on my lovely new dress, too!” Euthalia twirled to give him a chance to compliment it, face aglow with childish joy. When he didn’t, her face dropped, cracked, and showed the dark thing that had been living underneath. She held his head to her chest and stroked his hair. “It’s all right, my pet. It will all be over soon. Either you will be dead, or you will be free. Let’s keep optimistic, shall we?” She paused. “And no more thoughts of violence. I have your jaw in my hand, and if you try it, I will tear it off, regardless of the blood.” She smiled, patted him on the head, and skipped off.
The music of the club hit her as she opened the door, but she ignored it. Taking route down one of the darkest corridors, she walked down the steps and out into the back. It was a door she often used when she wanted to go hunting. Playing with her new toy had made her hungry.
She turned down an alleyway and cocked her head slightly at what she saw. A vampire – not Tarepha; she would know – feasting, for lack of a better term. Slow steps forward, she beamed at him.
“You needn’t have made display of what you were capable, you know,” Euthalia said in something close to singsong, “but I suppose it doesn’t hurt, either.”
Romax - July 10, 2007 12:29 AM (GMT)
When Romax had chosen a coven--for the typical reasons of protection and companionship--he had decided that the Enashe suited him the best. Though he enjoyed the hunt, he had thought himself too civilized for the Ishak or the Tarepha. Only the Enashe and the Nephim had drawn him. But lately, he had wondered about his choice.
Lately, he had been enjoying the hunt more and more. Usually, he chose his, well, meals at random. A pretty girl that caught his eye or a passing acquaintance. And he almost always left them alive, with perhaps a lingering weakness and vague memory of being mugged the only thing left behind.
But lately... Like a predator, he found himself wanting to watch his prey before he pounced. The slow, patient stalking, trying to figure out what sort of person they were just by watching them. The younger ones often talked on their cell phones as they walked. The business types wrote e-mails on them. The harried ones. The enthusiastic ones. More, he found the desire to drink until they fell limp, until he felt the pulse trail to a stop, harder and harder to resist.
And now here he was. The boy had died almost immediately, his throat ripped open to spray blood almost thirty feet down the alley. A waste, but God it had felt good. The other girl had had time for one frightened shriek before he'd been on her. It'd been almost comical, the way her mascara-ringed eyes had popped. The last had had time to start running, but he'd leapt on her from behind.
It was as he fed from her that Euthalia came upon him. Romax's first instinct was purely automatic. He wanted to pull his lips back from his bloody fangs and snarl at this intruder--essentially to arch his spine and scare her away.
But her words intruded on his frenzied mind. With a jerk, he dropped the girl, who cried and clutched at her neck as she used the other to try to drag herself away from him. "I--Oh, God." Even repulsed by what he'd done, Romax stared at the sobbing girl with hungry blue eyes.
Nafretiri - July 10, 2007 09:28 PM (GMT)
One might have thought that being snarled at by a foreign vampire might annoy Euthalia, but she just kept smiling that sweet smile. It was so lovely to see that primordial savagery surfacing. That was, after all, what made Euthalia want the Tarepha in the first place – that its members did not shirk from what they were capable. That ability, more than anything else, though Euthalia, was what gave this particular coven their strength.
Watching him drop the girl made her expression turn cunning – a strange look for a little girl’s face. It disappeared quickly, like most of her expressions, and left her face a blank canvas. Clasping her hands behind her back, she walked forward with slow, measured steps. When she got to the bleeding woman, she bent over, sniffed once, closed her eyes and stood up.
Euthalia saw the glint in his eyes. It was half the reason why she said, “Didn’t your mommy teach you to finish your meals?” One glance more at the woman, and her entire way of speaking matured. “Don’t suppose that she will survive if you let her escape – she will not. I will be required to take her back with me into my household and dispose of her there. I think that whatever you could do to her would be more… humane than what she would receive from me.”
She placed a hand on the woman’s hair, and the woman flinched.
Romax - July 11, 2007 05:53 AM (GMT)
Still breathing heavily, Romax's eyes flickered from the little girl to the woman and back again. At first, he couldn't quite make sense of it. For a seven year-old, she seemed awfully calm at the sight of a big bad monster eating a person. Of course, he wasn't entirely stupid, and his mind was working a bit better now that he wasn't being driven by the furious need to drink, so he quickly realized that the little girl could hardly be a little girl.
"It's not... right." He might have been believable if not for the shuddery hesitation before the last word. The way he said it, it was more a question than a statement, a silent is it affixed to the end. It was interesting how the strapping, six-foot-one man looked younger than the three-foot little girl when his blue eyes sought Euthalia's face again.
Pressing a hand to his chest, the gigantic rip was smaller already, he looked remarkably like a confused little boy who was unsure of what he was supposed to do. "Isn't it? 'Thou shalt not kill'." So the Bible said. Yet humans had been killing each other since the dawn of time. He had been trained in killing people. But only those who were a threat to him. Or his country. Not just at random.
And yet. He was a predator, right? That's what he told himself every time he went overboard. He was just doing what any predator did.
On the filthy ground, the woman's eyes darted between the two.
Nafretiri - July 11, 2007 06:15 AM (GMT)
No, the little girl wasn't really a little girl. If anything, it was she who was the big bad monster. Of course, she didn't look like a monster, smiling beatifically at him. Even with Euthalia's small fingers curling through the woman's hair like the mortal were a pet and not a person, she didn't seem all that horrific. Those small fingers tugged slightly, and the woman wimpered.
"Not right?" Her eyebrows rose and her mouth formed a small 'o'. For a moment, it appeared that she had really and truly believed his words, that they had shocked her, but then she laughed. "Morality is subjective. There is no definite right and there is no definite wrong. Their meanings are as loose as the wind. Anything can be right or wrong depending upon the situation and mindset in which they are approached."
Euthalia looked almost like a mother who was vaguely amused at some story her child had brought home from elementary school. "Quoting the bible? There are beings in this city that were around long before that book was written." One dainty shoulder rose in a shrug. "Besides, I hardly think that Moses had our kind in mind when he presented the Commandments to the Jews, nor, I think, God's desire that we be included in it. We are something other."
She didn't mention that she didn't believe in any higher source. To Euthalia, there was simply flesh and blood. The only authority she answered to was herself.
"Will you take her, or will I have to? Either way, she will be dead before tonight - and I am assuming, due to your misplaced morality, that you will be far kinder than I will. You want to talk about right and wrong? What's right is to clean up your mess. If you so choose, it's right to save this girl from the suffering I will undoubtedly bestow upon her." Now she had a clumb of the woman's hair in her hand.
Looking down, she said sweetly, "What's you're name, lady?"
She didn't really expect an answer.
Romax - July 12, 2007 12:57 AM (GMT)
And like a little boy being explained the inconsistencies in his thought process, Romax listened to Euthalia raptly, his eyes never moving from her face. What she said made sense, it seemed, though most of his mind still clung to the ideal that life was sacred. Not to be taken without good reason.
But he'd already killed the other two. Had he had good reason for them? They hadn't been threatening him or anyone he cared for. They'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and he'd been desperate. So he'd killed them--slaughtered them, really.
And hadn't it felt good? Looking down at the crying, whimpering woman, Romax felt a sudden and irresistible feeling of power surge through him. It was like a high, potent and addictive. Look at her, something whispered. The revulsion, the horror at the way he'd, well, mauled her faded a little, cushioned by this newfound high.
Morality... Subjective, yes, but more, wasn't morality owned only by those who chose to enforce it? Killing was bad because they said so and they could impress that ideal upon you. But they couldn't stop him, now could they? In fact, like the little girl had said, the truly moral thing to do would be to finish what he'd started instead of trying to pass it off on someone else.
Kneeling, Romax matter-of-factly took the woman's head between his hands, but paused. His thumb stroked over the tear-dampened cheek. Still holding her, he looked up at Euthalia, remembering the feeling of power he had experienced when he'd killed the other two.
"What would you do to her?"
Nafretiri - July 12, 2007 01:11 AM (GMT)
Euthalia was different from many different vampires in that she didn’t just accept that what she was doing was wrong – she truly believed everything she said. The place where her conscience might have been was oddly empty, and playing with humans (even in the bloody way she preferred) was more like playing with dolls that could react than anything. She never regretted inflicting pain. She never felt guilty as someone screamed in fear. That element of her wiring was missing.
Him, this nameless vampire, was then kneeling almost face-to-face beside her. She saw that he truly wanted an answer, and it made her smile – a true smile this time, one that was neither innocent nor pure, and that transformed her face into something other than that of a six year old.
“I do not eat leftovers,” she said quietly, looking at the woman, “so I would not feed on her. No, I would take her deep underground where thick walls absorb screams, and I would work on her. If I did it right, it could last days. To be perfectly blunt, I would torture her, body and mind, until she did not know which way was up, and what was real. I would let her sink into peaceful oblivion, let her think she had died only to wrench her out and begin again.”
She paused for a moment. “I cannot tell you exactly what I would do to her, because it always depends on the person. I would have to know her before I could hurt her. Each person breaks in a specific way.”
Fingers loosening the woman’s hair, Euthalia backed up several steps. “It is your morality, and your choice.”
Romax - July 12, 2007 02:03 AM (GMT)
It was fascinating, the change in her sweet little face when she smiled again. The mischievous look was gone. Instead was a look that would have been unnerving on an older face; on hers it was downright disturbing. Six year-olds shouldn't really look like they were thinking about making streamers with someone's small intestine.
And really, really, enjoying the thought.
Romax trailed a hand from the woman's cheek to her chest, pressing his palm against her skin.
Misinterpreting the movement, her breaths coming fast and shallow from fear, she glanced down at his hand, then back up at him. From what she could tell, he could save her by choosing what to do with her. That psycho, scary little kid wanted to kill her. "You wanna fuck, is that it? I can--I'll do that. Just don't kill me. Please. I don't wanna die."
She shot a glance at Euthalia. "Don't let her. Please," she babbled, her blood-smeared hand vising around his wrist.
He ignored her, pressing his hand harder against her chest. Beneath it, he could feel her pulse, hammering jerkily beneath bone and skin. His blue eyes sought Euthalia's face again. Romax felt drawn to her words, hanging off every one. She spoke so briskly, as if it meant nothing.
It was like she was offering, almost. Or like she made it okay. For Romax, what she spoke of had been something tempting, something he'd always thought himself above. But here was someone older than him, who had no compunctions about it. It was... attractive. If that made any sense. "I want... Can you--show me?"
Nafretiri - July 12, 2007 04:33 AM (GMT)
Euthalia watched him watching her, and then watched his hand move to the woman’s chest. She could see the woman’s pulse throbbing in her neck, and could picture that heart thumping wildly behind a cage of ribs. If she listened carefully, she could hear the thump-thump of it. She could smell the woman’s fear – fear that drove her to choose what she thought was the lesser of two evils.
“I can show you,” she said in the same quiet voice. One small finger moved a strand of his hair in an absent gesture, and then she turned to the woman.
“What would you do to live?” Euthalia cupped the woman’s face with her hand. The tears were sticky against her palm. “This world always has some price, doesn’t it? It’s a harsh world based on greed – why should this situation be any different? What would you give?”
The woman sobbed. “Anything.”
Getting onto her knees to look into the woman’s eyes, Euthalia leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“Anything?” Quieter still, “Where does you family live?”
Romax - July 15, 2007 04:09 AM (GMT)
When she touched his hair, briefly, Romax turned his head slightly, a bit like a hunting dog would when receiving an absent nudge from its master. And like a dog recognizing his catch had been turned over, he moved back slightly as Euthalia's small hand caressed the woman's cheek.
Looking at the crying girl, the young vampire was struck by the random thought that the woman looked extraordinarily silly. She wore what looked like black motorcycle boots, a billowy pair of black jeans with innumerable chains strung on them, tight black t-shirt with obscene words printed in white, and heavy makeup. It was supposed to be a tough, Harley girl, appearance but her wide eyes and mascara-streaking tears made it look ridiculous.
"My-my...?" stammered Lily, or Lilith as she preferred to be called, her eyes confused. It hurt and if she told the scary little girl, maybe they wouldn't kill her. Still clutching at her neck, her gaze clung desperately to Euthalia's face. "Riviera. They... in Riviera apartments."
Romax knew the complex. Riviera was strictly middle-class, neither slum nor mansion.
Nafretiri - July 16, 2007 08:24 AM (GMT)
Something like disgust flitted over Euthalia’s face, as she pulled back, crossing her arms over her chest. One small eyebrow rose up, and her look was the same sort you’d see on a stern schoolmistress. It was a look that clearly said you’d done something wrong, even if you didn’t know what it was.
“Well,” said Euthalia in a bland tone. She turned to her – she supposed he was her pupil, and that itself was a strange thought. Regarding him for a second, she continued, “What does this tell you about her?” A pause, whether for effect, or because she was really waiting for an answer. Whatever the reason, she kept speaking. “It tells us that she is weak.” The last word was spit out like a curse. “And that she is a selfish, selfish being, more preoccupied with herself than with her family, does it not?”
Moving her hands so that they were clasped behind her back, Euthalia walked like an army sergeant around behind the girl. “I wonder if she would even care if we slaughtered them in front of her. I wonder if she had even thought we might try. If she hadn’t, that also tells us she is either extremely stupid, or just values herself that much.”
A smile at her pupil then, over the girl’s shoulder. “If she values herself so much, what then could we take away that would hurt her more than anything else?”
Romax - July 20, 2007 05:17 AM (GMT)
Romax watched the way Euthalia’s face darkened into an expression that clearly transmitted loathing, even as she struck a pose that reminded him peculiarly of an illustration of a particularly rigid schoolmarm from the 1800’s. The similarity, naturally, was very slight, considering the illustration had been of an old, purse-lipped woman with grey hair and Euthalia looked more like a doll the woman’s daughter might play with.
His brow creased slightly as she, that is Euthalia, identified the girl on the ground’s response as weakness. True, it likely was selfish and weak, but then again… Altruism was notable because of its rarity. It was in life’s best interests to preserve life rather than sacrifice—save in those few cases where it wasn’t. After all, if everybody fell on the sword to save everybody else, you’d end up with a lot of people with swords in them.
But his eyes were clear when they moved from the crying girl to the one who smiled at him. “If she values herself, then it isn’t her life that means the most,” he answered slowly. “It’s her sense of self. What she has and what she is and what it means to her.” Glancing back at the girl, Romax leaned down enough to take her chin in his hand, tip it back until she was looking into his face. “Her answer might have been different if you’d asked where her friends live.”
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes once more flickering back to Euthalia. “Don’t you think?”
Nafretiri - August 13, 2007 03:34 AM (GMT)
There was something that Euthalia lacked, and it was empathy. She could understand the reasons people gave for doing what they did, even learn to anticipate them, but she could never really understand the motivations themselves. It was expected then, that there were times when she could watch a mortal and see weakness by simply trying to understand the motivation from where she, Euthalia, stood.
The simple fact of the matter is, were it Euthalia in that mortal shell, she wouldn’t have given up the names. Not for love or anything so sentimental as that. She would have kept her mouth shut, and she would probably have laughed in the face of her tormentor. If she had been attacked for no reason, she would have forced her attackers to loathe her, to become infuriated. People make mistakes when they’re angry, and if they don’t… then she would have thought them worthy to kill her.
This was probably the reason she got a look of careful contemplation on her face, mulling it over. After a beat, she smiled at Romax. “Well said.” Taking a step back, she gestured to the girl. “By all means.”
Romax - August 15, 2007 10:42 PM (GMT)
"Nooo..." Lily moaned, recoiling vainly from Romax's grip. "Please, just leave me alone..." What had she done to make all this happen to her? She'd just been walking along, talking to her friends, and minding her own business. Then she wasn't. Then there was this--this monster attacking her. He wasn't human!
And then there was the little girl. Who was even scarier than the the guy. The little girl was psycho scary. At first she didn't understand why the guy didn't go after the little girl, but it was like they--it was like they knew each other! What the fuck, man? What did they want?
Worse, what were they going to do to her?
Her eyes wheeled in her head as their words flowed over her. She was too scared to even try to make sense of what they said--the words became a garbled mishmash. The man said something to her, but she couldn't tell what. He shook her head by the chin, until her eyes focused on his.
So blue. He repeated the question and she shook her head desperately. "Let me go, please?"
OOC: -stabs the crappy post- Wanna kill her and do something else? My ideas are not coming out of my head the way they were supposed to...
