Red-Handed

They can't keep me here forever. I'm much too crafty for that. They tell me that I am the only survivor of the "Jack Ripper" serial killings. I laughed every time I hear them refer to my art with such a title. I can't blame them for their ignorance. After all, how could an eight-year-old child commit such grotesque slaughters?
I'm looking into the huge mirror opposite of me. Do they think that I can't see them? I can see myself quite clearly; a small girl with long golden locks skillfully placed into pigtails. Can't those ignorant people behind the glass see murder in my large blue eyes?
I must admit that I was rather bitter when I awoke in this innocent vessel, but I have learned that the best gifts do indeed come in small packages. Those foolish children were supposed to be watching the little one. Instead they decided to play with forces bigger then they. They called out for "Jack the Ripper". I imagine that they meant me; for that was the name the press had given me. I heard their disappointment when nothing seemed to have happened. I waited for hours until they had fallen asleep. When the whole house was sleeping I slipped out of the colorful room and into the dark hallway. The house was very different from what I remembered. I had been asleep for longer than expected.
Thankfully knives were the same, no, they were better. I realized that luck was on my side when I found them sleeping in the same room. How short their trousers were. How revealing. They were obviously whores. So I did what I had to. This new body was so small and light that it was easy to work. The blood spilled beautifully as usual. It made an even more beautiful stain on the colorful carpeting. Not a scream was made.
After my work was finished I looked around, my mind quickly absorbing all of the new technological advances that been made in my absence. I found the lavatory and studied my new form. The pale pink nightdress was stained crimson. Her pale cheeks and hands were also red. Large blue eyes stared hard back at me. This creature was darling. I made a mental list of all of the advantages of this new form; of which there were many.
I patiently waited until someone came. A blond woman and her lover came through the door, flicking those wonderfully clever lights on. I almost smiled as I saw the shock and horror work it's way into their features. In the past I could rarely stay to watch the effects of my work on the public, although I heard plenty of stories. I sat on one of the girls' stomachs, which had been viciously torn open, her intestines and uterus missing. I had placed them behind the sofa because I couldn't reach the kitchen counter. Everything was a blur after this. I remember countless questions, crying, and constantly being crushed into someone's chest.
Murder had never been so easy. Very soon after I started killing off others. As the blond woman placed me in a park to play I saw a woman jog passed. Her clothes were so obscene that I just couldn't help tripping her, knocking her unconscious, and burying her heart in the sand. The other children were too preoccupied in their play to notice the hand sticking out from under the bushy foliage.
Another kill was late at night when the blond woman went to sleep. I slipped out, taking only a teddy bear for effect. A sweet young doe found me crying on the side of the street. I had cut my leg using one of the many pieces of sharp glass. I told her that I lived just beyond the alley behind her. She took my small hand, never guessing that her fate was to be controlled by it. Since she was sweet I simply slit her throat and drew my signature on the brick wall behind her.
I was to find out that there were a lot of potential victims in this new age. I was overcome with giddiness ever time I saw one. Sometimes I would suppress the urge that made my fingers clench, aching for a knife. Other times I killed so violently that even I had to look away. I suppose that I am mentally unwell, but I had to make up for lost time.
Seventeen kills later I decided to rid myself of the bothersome blonde. In my eyes she was the biggest whore I had faced. There was a new man in her bed almost every night. I could hear their moans from behind her locked door. It disgusted me and made it all the more easier to do what I did. And anyways, she was beginning to restrict me from my wanderings because of how unsafe the neighborhood had become. After her partner had left I slipped into the moonlit room, feigning a nightmare. She took me into her arms. I took out the knife from behind the rag doll I had carried into the room and stabbed her in the eye. I stuffed the doll into her mouth as a substitute gag and began carving into her body skillfully. The blood poured onto the cotton sheets. I could hear her whimpering in pain. I smoothed the rumpled hair from her face and hushed her. After I slashed my name across her I took out her heart, gallbladder, and intestines and artfully placed them around her body. I bound her hands with the silk sheet she had covered herself with. In the early morning I watched as the life slipped out of her eyes. She was nothing more than my lifeless doll. I played with her until the police came. And here is where they took me.
Looking back a realize that my trying to evade the arms of the police were thought of as a little girl's attempt to cling to her mother's motionless corpse. It made working with the sweet, plump-faced social worker all the more easier. For now I will pretend to be happy with the little dresses they insist on draping me in. I will play with the fake tea sets and dollhouses. As they discuss my work I will listen quietly. I will listen to their comments on the quiet little Jane Doe who always seems ready and eager for a playmate.Until I escape this world of brightly painted walls and fake cheerful workers who speak to me as if I'm horrible impaired I will learn all I need to.
What's this? I heard that a kind childless couple has agreed to take me in. How sweet of them. I will have to express my gratitude to them in the only way I can think of…

In Death's Opinion

People always say that it takes a strong will to kill a person. Bullshit. It takes absolutely no will at all to pull a trigger. Nor does it take strong will to make the first stab, or to simply keep the pillow in place as the sounds fade until nothing is heard but the rhythmic ticking of the nearby clock.
I love how doctors think they can figure out the mind of someone who has killed. It's always with the patterns. I laugh every time I see them try to explain to a jury why some one has killed. The truth of the fact is that no mortal can ever truly know what goes on in some one's mind as they watch their peers fall by their hand. Every mind, every motive, every death is different and special with it's own complex reasons and methods. Sometimes even the murderers don't really understand why they did it. So how could anyone else?
Killing yourself, however, is a different matter completely. It takes every once of will that one has to kill themselves. Why is this, because you are in absolute control of the situation right up until the final second. You decide how. You decide when. And you decide why. You can only imagine the last thoughts in a person's mind as they watch their life's fluids stream from their bodies, staining the porcelain tub red. In the end everyone has second thoughts when their breath begins to still, and they can no longer hear the beating of their own heart. It doesn't matter how ready you thought you were. There is always that last moment where you think that what you are doing is a mistake.
Doctors try to figure that one out too. And yet, even as a doctor explains to a suicide victim's loved ones why they still can't fathom why that special person in their lives did what they did. In the end it's the same as murder, only the committer of the act knows, or perhaps they didn't. Suicide is as mysterious as murder.
People's thoughts of me and my forms interest me. I love how I am portrayed at times. My only let down in the portrayal of me is in the most common one. Sure the long black robe and menacing scythe are dashing and impressionable enough, but I would like to think of myself as more of a dark angel. Although, truly I could take whatever form I please. I just prefer that I have flesh. I try very hard to blend in with the times. It gets easier with every age as taboo becomes the norm. You could pass me in a crowded city street in broad daylight and you would never know the difference. And I imagine that carrying a large scythe would be rather conspicuous. It's true that I prefer black to any other color. But if the mood hits me I will wear just about any hue brought to mind. I wonder at times how people can be fright of me. I've met some people who have been utterly terrified of death and have sat down, unsuspecting of course, to have a very pleasant conversation over coffee with me. I'm not to be feared, just respected. Now that I dwell on this thought I realize just how foolish it is to fear me. Despite popular belief I'm not the one who causes the death, far too many die at the same time and far too quickly for me to accomplish that. You cause your own demise, whether consciously or not. I'm just the last thing you see before the fact, and after. In truth, I try to comfort in the last moments. I have no quarrel with humans. Nature or unexpected events kill, not I.
Death is an art, just like painting. I pass through eternity by thinking about creative ways that people pass on. It tickles me to muse on these thoughts, much like when a mortal thinks of a joke once told. Now please do not misunderstand, dying is simple enough. The creativity is in the process beforehand. Even dying by natural causes is interesting. It's never done the exact same way twice. Like art, death has it's own beauty. Some may think that it is morbid to think of death as beautiful, but those who judge have never really watched the dying process in all its glory. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Art is said to be this way, as is death.
Can Death love? This is a question that has been on the mind of me since men could form questions. Love is what you make of it. I've loved a great many things. I've loved art. I've loved people. I've fallen in love with almost everything you could ever think of. What I love most, however, is knowledge. It doesn't matter where the knowledge comes from, just that it's there. I marvel at what knowledge can do. In a single instant knowledge can make or break an entire nation. I don't know if you realize thins, but even nature thinks. You're foolish if you think otherwise. The wind and it's course just seems too perfect at times to be the work of a coincidence. The natural formations of the earth sync with each other too well to be pieces of land. The ecosystem is too well suited for life. Let's face it. The world is just as intelligent as you or I. I love intelligence to the point. Even when knowledge is used unwisely it is still so fascinating to me that I cannot scorn.
Do I commune with the souls of the lost? Yes. I have met the most interesting people. Whether they are villains or heroes, men or women, human or otherwise; I have talked to each after their passing. I find that with each new soul I gain more knowledge, more insight, and a deeper appreciation of the world. Meeting news souls helps me pass the many years. Yes Death is fallible. Make no mistake. I love to learn though.
I find that I am never bored with this world. New developments and achievements happen every second. And I don't want to miss them. I've enjoyed our talk. I will look forward to seeing you again. Although I think we will be in different positions. Never fear though. I will make sure that your short stay with me will be very entertaining. And don't worry; your best friend will be caught once his three-year-old son finds your left leg in his toy chest. Have a splendid evening.

Burn

"Give him back! Can you not see that I need him? Please for the love of God don't separate us! I'll answer any question, take any test without complaint if only you would bring him back to me!" I watch as the men in white lab coats ignore me as if I were just a lab rat. I slammed my fist against the thick glass wall and slumped to the floor. My eyes squinted as the florescent lights blazed on. They were even more unbearable than usual.
"How did we get into this mess? How could a simple hunt go so wrong?" The room faded as the men in white closed in around me…
India, 1850
My brother Blair and I had been the only people to see the new ship dock. It was too late for anyone to be out. Blair and I were scavenging for food by the market stands. Our parents had died of a strange fever that had consumed half of the city. We were lucky to have survived. At the time we were only ten years. We watched in the shadows as the boarding plank came down. After a long while only one person came down. His flesh was as pale as the lilies in the royal garden. His hair was a flame of red down his back. Blair and I gaped. It was our first time to ever see anyone like this man. As if he sensed us he looked up from under his wide-brimmed hat. Icy blue eyes met ours. We shuttered in unison. When we had regained our courage we found him no more. I felt cold.
India, 1856
Blair and I had finally gotten a position in the royal house: Blair as a servant to the sheikh and I as one of the princess's handmaidens. I rarely got to see my beloved brother. Once in a great while he would slip me a message to meet him in the gardens after dark. This was such a night. When I saw my brother, his long black hair tied loosely behind him, his black eyes gleaming in the moonlight I couldn't stop myself from flinging my body into his arms. Even though he was my twin he had grown a head taller than me. He hushed me as his arms tightened around my waist. His lips crushed into my own. Soon his kisses covered my cheeks, kissing the tears away. After I was silent he put a finger under my chin.
"How lovely you have grown Bellatrix." I blushed and playfully shoved him.
"Such things you say." I hissed quietly. Blair dragged me to a pond.
"I mean it. Look here," he said, pushing me toward the pond. I gazed into the water. I had the same black hair as Blair, although mine was much longer. I also had the same black eyes. I had removed my veil earlier so I could see my face completely. I, for one, thought that my features were far too sharp, but apparently Blair thought otherwise. My brother wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder.
"See," he whispered," You're as beautiful as the flowers." Before I could reply I screamed, for there behind us was the strange man we had seen over six years ago. Blair immediately pushed me behind him and drew his sword. Before he got a chance to use it, however, the man had a grip on Blair's wrist. I blinked. I could have sworn that the man had been at least a foot away. How could he have moved so quickly? Blair winced as the stranger's grip tightened. It was only until blood poured out of Blair's wrist that Blair let go of the sword.
The stranger grabbed me by my hair and snapped his fingers. At once I realized that we had left the gardens and were not even in India anymore. The climate was to cool for it. When I regained my senses I saw the stranger advance on Blair, pinning him violently against the wall. My brother cried out in pain as the pale man bit into his throat. I gasped. I could feel my brother's pain like a sword through my heart. I ran at him and tried to pull the man off of him. Whether it was my inability to fight or his strength I do not know, but I couldn't move the man even an inch. When the man was finished I was hanging onto his arm, exhausted from my efforts. The man simply smiled, revealing pointed eyeteeth and pulled me off of his arm like a rag doll. His cold finger grazed my cheek lovingly as he lowered himself to my throat. I passed out as his lips touched my skin.
When I awoke I was in a lavished bedroom. Candles flickered around me and I could feel my brother cuddled up at my side. I forgot everything and bent over, kissing his cool forehead. He moaned slightly and opened his eyes. Not a word was said. We didn't need one as we held each other and sobbed.
The man came in and introduced himself as Alexi. Even though he spoke a different language I could understand him. He told us that we were Blood Hunters and that we survived on man. My brother nodded so I did too. We had no choice. It was either hunt or die. But even though we had no choice it was still painful commit the act. I held my bother as he wept in my arms, out bodies pressed against the cold brick buildings in the foggy alley. I felt cold.
Boston Port, 1924
I felt the box that Blair and I shared in the long journey abroad finally stop moving. Our maker pried the box open with his bare hands and smiled. We blinked at the sudden light. Blair helped me out and we went to hunt. We had found that if we hunted right away we could control the beast within us. For the next few years we were nothing more than pets to Alexi, something to show the Blood Hunter community. He found great pleasure in sexual tormenting Blair and I. We only found comfort in each other's arms late at night. One night after we had finished our lovemaking he rolled over and whispered in my ear.
"Bellatrix, we will always be together? You will never leave me?" I smiled against his bare chest.
"Of course. I could never leave you." I could feel Blair's sigh of relief. I felt cold.
San Francisco, 1980
He had gone too far this time. Alexi was trying to break us apart. He had caught us one night after one of his many parties. His eyes gleamed red as he pried Blair off of me and threw him into the wall. I cried out as blood poured out of Blair's mouth. Alexi was screaming at him and hitting him so violently that Blair was started to cry. I rushed over and shoved Alexi off. Alexi came flying back and grabbed a handful of my long hair.
"Is this what you treasure Blair? " he said, shaking me. He pulled out a wicked looking knife. "I'll teach you to loving anything but me!" With that Alexi slit my throat and threw me out the seventh story window, into the traffic below.
I found myself swimming in darkness. Through it all I heard Blair soft voice, pleading with me to wake. I was so comfortable at first that I silently pleaded with Blair to let me go. Soon however I could taste something warm at my lips. My eyes snapped open and I saw Blair's caramel skin. Pain. It was all I felt. My body screamed for death. Everything went black. The last thing I heard was the sound of a shot being fired. I felt cold.
Area 51, Present Day
I awoke to a doctor's smooth voice.
"Bellatrix Knight. Who did this to you? Your brother already told us of what you are. The tests prove his claims, but who did this to you? Blair wouldn't say." I glared at the clean-shaven man. He looked a little uneasy.
"Leave me." I hissed. I'll not say another word until you return my brother." The doctor frowned.
"I'm sorry, but the head of the department says that for safety purposes we should keep you separated. I smiled, showing my fangs. The man backed up and I laughed.
"Get out of my sight." The man tripped over his chair and made his way to the door. I heard him speak.
"She isn't cooperating with us. What should I do?"
"Dissect the other. We only need one. Find out what is on the inside." I heard a familiar voice reply. My head craned to see who had spoke. I froze. The blood red hair, the icy blue eyes. It was Alexi! I then heard screams from the hall.
"Bellatrix!" I felt my world spin. Blair. I shoved the human away and clawed at the door.
"Please Alexi!" I screamed." I'll do anything! Just please give him back."
"Will you sever me and only me?" I nodded. Alexi smiled and disappeared, reappearing behind the doctor and snapping his neck. Blair was thrown into the cell with me. A cold sweat had broken out over his body. Blair glared at Alexi.
"You did this you monster." Alexi smiled.
"Call me what you will boy, but I still have you both." With that he left, his footsteps echoing behind him. Blair sighed and took my hands into his.
"Bella. I can't stand the thought of another lifetime under his torture. Will you come?" I hesitated.
"He will find us if we run. Oh Blair there is no way we can truly be together." Blair smiled sadly.
"There is one way."
The park was quiet. It looked so much like the one in India so many years ago. There was an abundance of white lilies next to us. They flowers surrounded a large fountain. Blair picked me up and laid me in the lilies, next to the fountain. He lay out next to me, his cool body pressed against mine. Our fingers were entwined in the flowers.
"Are you sure you want this?" I nodded. He snuggled up to me as if we were still children trying to keep warm in the marketplace. The pale morning light washed over us. Heat covered my body as my skin sparked a thin flame that covered us both. Blair just held me tighter as the sun came over us. I felt warm at last.

Strike the Devils Hour

Glistening drops of sweat fell off of the red tips of Dri's long black hair. He tried not to tense as the whip came down on him, but as soon as he heard the crack his body went against his will. The well-toned muscles of his back and chest burned from resistance. A black velvet blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes. His hands were incased in special black kid gloves that tied together at the wrists with cutting black cords. Wrapped around his right wrist was a tattoo of a black rose; the thorns and the petals were sprinkled with dark blood. Around his neck was a silver gothic cross on a thick silver chain that wrapped around his neck several times. His right ear was pierced three times. Spike earrings hung from two holes and an ear cuff on the other; all of it silver. He was dressed in tight black leather pants only. Like his body Dri's mind worked against him. Try as he might he couldn't get the past out of his head…
At age nineteen Andrios was the youngest priest to ever join the Roman Catholic Church. He was thrilled to be Father Serian. Sure he had lost a lot of his friends in the process of pursuing his dream, but it was worth it. After his parents had died in a fire the church was the only thing to console him.He couldn't have survived at his aunt and uncle's house. Ever since he had begun to live there at age eight his uncle had come home horribly drunk, ready to slam anything that got in his way. Watching his poor frail Aunt Patty get smacked around by this monster of a man had made Andrios's stomach clench. What was worse was the fact that she always stayed quiet and kind, no matter how hard the beatings.
One night after his aunt got hit one too many times she stopped moving. Andrios realized that she was dead. What made matter's worse was that his Uncle Ray just kept kicking the corpse. Andrios had run into the kitchen and covered his aunt's body, tears streaming down his face. Ray took one look at him and grabbed him roughly by the scruff of his neck. The man dragged Andrios into the basement where no one could here him call for help. He took a spiked clad belt down from the shelf and beat the boy senseless.
Andrios had run from the house after his uncle became too tired to swing the belt. He collapsed at the church doors and sat huddled in the doorway in the pouring rain. In the morning a kindly priest found him. He had been there ever since.
Now Andrios sat at his desk with nothing more than a small lamp lighting his paper; on which he wad writing his sermon for the Sunday Mass. He sighed and looked at his watch. It was eleven at night. Andrios stretched and ran a hand through his short black hair. Suddenly he heard a noise. It was a loud crashing sound, like shattered glass. Andrios got up cautiously and took up a flashlight. Because the church was so old there was little electric lighting in the building.
Andrios's light scanned over the dark navy color of the worn hall carpet. His fingertips grazed the cold stone walls as he walked down the hall. As he entered the main assembly room he looked around. Overhead the arches of the high ceiling disappeared into the shadows. Moonlight poured through the enormous stain glass windows, leaving a burst of color on the thick rosewood pews. Andrios turned and his beam hit the huge brass organ.
The young priest gasped. Above the organ was the giant stain glass window that showed all of the fourteen Stations of the Cross in great detail. Only now it was completely destroyed. Shards of glass covered the organ and the floor under the window. Also covered in the glass was the head of the church. His body was twisted in such an angle that it was impossible for him to have still been alive. In fact his head was completely turned around. Andrios fell to his knees. He was so distracted by the grotesque sight of his mentor's body that he did not hear the sound of someone dropping from the balcony behind him. Suddenly Andrios was slammed into the organ with such force that he felt a rib or two snap. He groaned in pain. Someone turned him over.
"Hey. This one is way too young for a priest." He faintly heard someone say. It was the voice of a male, perhaps his age.
"Still, he's wearing the collar." He heard another voice. It was a female this time. Through his glazed vision Andrios saw two pairs of eyes reflecting like cats from his flashlight, which was still clutched in his hand tightly. One of the creatures stepped into the light.
Her face was young, but her eyes showed age. Her face was framed by long wavy dark brown, almost black hair. Her gray eyes considered him carefully. She was highly attractive. She wore a tight black silk tank top and black jeans. Around her neck was a spiked collar. Her ears were pierced too many times to count. She stood in neck breaking black boots that laced up to her knees. She was thin, but not unpleasantly. Her long black nails touched his face lightly. She sighed.
"Nice going Damien. You've broken a few ribs." A boy stepped out of the shadows next to the woman. His silver hair was short and spiked. He wore a silver chocker collar and had his ear pierced twice. Bats and upside down crosses angled from chains in his earlobes. He wore a dark blue ruffled dress shirt and white leather pants. Both of them had a tattoo of a black rose wrapped around their right wrist.
'Demons.' Andrios thought
"Should we take him to the Master?" the boy called Damien asked, gazing at him uncertainly. The girl considered him for a moment.
"After the mess we caused here I think that's best." The boy approached Andrios and picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Andrios was quickly slipping out of consciousness. The priest closed his eyes. He felt a rush of air hit his face.
'Dear Lord save me from these servants of Lucifer.' He prayed. Then all was lost.
Andrios awoke to the sound of music. It was a heavy combination of screaming and drums. Andrios tried to sit up, and surprisingly succeeded He took in his surroundings slowly.
The room was elaborate in every way. The walls were a deep gold. Oil paintings of beautiful landscapes lined the room. A golden fireplace was embedded into the wall. Etched into it were the gods and goddesses of Rome. By the fireplace stood two red leather armchairs and a redwood table in between them that looked hike it was used for the game of Chess. Indeed there were gold and silver chess pieces on the table. The floor was covered in what looked like a very soft and thick blood red carpet. On the right of him was a wall of books neatly displayed. On the left was a large wardrobe.
The bed in which he lay was a golden painted iron four-poster bed. There were red gauze draperies around him. The sheet under him was golden silk, the pillows red silk. Red silk ties hung off of the posts behind him.
Before he could examine the room more closely the door as opened. Andrios quickly feigned sleep. He heard the drapes being pulled back. Someone sat at his side. He felt a cold hand on his cheek. Second later equally cold lips touched his throat.
"I know you're awake Dri. Please open your eyes so that I can see what color they are. I've always believed that the eyes are the most beautiful part of anyone." A voice purred in his ear. Without warning the person licked the outside of his ear. Andrios's eyes snapped open.
The man looked to be in his mid twenties. He had long dark brown hair and gray-blue eyes. He had high cheekbones that gave him an almost feminine look. His lips were full and his nose was slopped slightly, but beautifully so. Altogether his face was sculpted perfectly. His skin was slightly tan, giving him a golden glow. The man smiled and held out a hand to Andrios. Uncertain, Andrios took it. It was icy. Long graceful fingers with nails that looked like daggers wrapped around his wrist loosely. After Andrios had been pulled up he got a better view of his host. He wore a long dark red velvet jacket. Under his jacket was a golden mesh shirt and tight black pants. His hair was braided thickly to his waist.
"Much better." He smiled. "A lovely reddish brown. You're eyes are stunning." The man's gaze flickered up and down his body. "Although I should have expected that from what I saw of the rest of you." Andrios's face flushed.
"Who are you? Where am I? What are you going to do with me?" he demanded of the strange man.
The man, quicker than Andrios though possible climbed up on the bed and was right in the priest's face before he had blinked. One of his legs was placed firmly between Andrios's, pressing against his groin. Andrios bit his lip to stifle the moan. The man smiled, revealing a double set of pearly white fangs. Andrios gasped, his eyes widening in fright and disbelief.
"I am Mordekie Bathory. You are in my nightclub the Devil's Hour. And I'm going to make you my pet." He said. Andrios gulped, but stood firm.
"I am no one's pet." Mordekie smirked.
"You were the Lord's pet were you not?" When Andrios didn't answer Mordekie grinned. "Now you are mine. I could have made you a slave like the rest of my own, but a pet priest is just too good to pass up." Mordekie regarded Andrios for a while. Feeling the monster's eyes travel over his form made Andrios tremble.
"We'll have to do something about your hair. You'll also need to exercise a bit. A trip to the body artist should fix you up nicely." Andrios had no clue what the man was talking about, but he felt as if he had lost control of everything, his life, his sanity, his free will.
"What if I refuse?" he challenged Mordekie. The beast laughed.
"How amusing. A Roman Catholic priest with a sense of humor." Mordekie wiped his eyes and the tears from eyes and then frowned. "Oh…you were serious."
"Yes." Andrios growled. Mordekie thought for a moment.
"Let me put it this way: What choice do you have? You've lost everything. And I could you the moment you tried to leave. Besides I saved your life. The ribs that had broken pierced your lung and you were drowning in your blood." Andrios grimaced. The men were silent for a while until Mordekie perked up and clapped his hands.
"Right, off to Stella's then." Dragging him off of the bed Mordekie pushed open the door. The music hit Andrios in the face. As did the scene.The bar was pitch black with a pure white marble top. The floor was nothing more than pure white sand. The walls were painted black with white Latin Calligraphy scrawled on them. Andrios recognized them as passages from the Book Of Revelations. Black silk drapery hung in folds over the ceiling with white stars plastered on them. The furniture was black and white satin. On the black marble tables were white candles that admitted deep blue flames. A grand pearl chandelier hung over the room. Black lights shined from crystal casing, making the white writings on the walls glow. The place was packed. Mostly all were in dark garb. Pale men and women were being served goblets of dark red liquid by beautiful men and women in chains and collars. Most of the men were shirtless, and even some of the women. Andrios guessed that they were the slaves that Mordekie had spoken of. Some of them were being dragged into backrooms. The priest flinched at the thought of what was going on in those rooms. Andrios watched as a young man receive a firm slap on the rear as he walked by. Mordekie placed his hands on Andrios's shoulders.
"Welcome to the Devil's Hour." He said. Mordekie steered the young man into a back room behind the bar. Inside was painted black. There was a girl with razor straight platinum blond hair than ended in dark purple tips. The girl had a hoop through her nose and eyebrow. She gave Mordekie a look before standing to study Andrios. She had on a dark purple midriff shirt and a black purple pokadotted skirt that just hit her knees. Her heavy black boots made a loud noise as she walked over to them.
"So what do you want me to do?" she asked of Mordekie. Mordekie smiled.
"I once again thank you my dear Stella for taking on such a…" Stella raised a hand to stop him.
"Your guests may be suckered by that bull but don't try it on me." Mordekie smirked.
"Of course. I keep forgetting you witches aren't effected by charm."
'A witch?' Andrios thought. Mordekie turned to Andrios.
"Yes Dri. Stella is a witch."
"My name is Andrios." The priest said. Mordekie waved a hand dismissively.
"It's too long for me. Besides, I like Dri better." Andrios sighed. First they take his freedom and now his name, what was to come next? Mordekie smiled.
"Plenty." He said, reading Andrios's mind. Stella pulled out a thin white rod. It had a clear quartz crystal attached to it. Stella whispered a few words into it and the crystal glowed faintly.
"We'll start with the hair." She pointed the wand at Andrios. Andrios felt his hair grow to his mid back.
"I love the red tips Stella." Mordekie commented. Andrios ran a hand through his hair and saw that there were indeed bloody looking tips. She scrutinized him again. She then smacked Andrios straight in the chest with her wand. Andrios fell to his knees, clutching his chest. After a few seconds Andrios got up. Mordekie's eyes lit up.
"Brilliant Stella, now I don't have to spend all that time exercising him." Andrios looked down. His usually flat chest was lean, but muscular. He looked at his arms, they were wonderfully toned. He could feel the same in his legs. Andrios even thought that he had grown taller. Stella reached over and ripped off Andrios's pants in one swift motion. With another smack of her wand the priest was clad in tight black leather slacks. Stella walked over to a desk in the far corner of the dim room. She came back with a long needle. Andrios stepped back into the wall.
"Relax," she sighed. "I designed this needle myself. It doesn't cause pain," she grinned. "Unless of course you like pain." Andrios shook his head violently. Stella came over and popped the needle into his right ear. She was right. Andrios hadn't felt a thing. She did the procedure one more time and slipped on the earrings. She stepped back and looked at him. She snapped her fingers and a black box appeared on the desk. She opened the box and pulled out a long chained necklace with a large gothic crucifix on it. She slipped it over his neck and twisted the chain around his throat a few times until the pendant just began at the hollow of his throat.
"Beautiful." Mordekie whispered. Stella nodded and then quickly grabbed Andrios's right wrist. Her touched burned, causing him to cry out in pain. When she released him he had the same tattoo as he had seen on the strange beings in the church engraved into his flesh. His wrist pulsed faintly with pain. Mordekie slipped Stella what looked like a few thousand dollars and took Andrios back to his room.
Andrios studied himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked very different from when he had last looked. He noticed that his nails were long and pointed. Upon closer inspection he saw that his eyes were lined with black. He touched the silver pendant gingerly.
"A whore of the Devil, that's what I am." He said into the mirror.
"I go by the name of Mordekie. " Andrios spun around to see Mordekie leaning causally against the frame of the door. His eyes glowed faintly as he gazed at Andrios. "But I have been known to be a bit devilish." He smiled. Andrios followed Mordekie back into the bedroom. Mordekie instructed Andrios to get onto the bed and kneel on his knees facing the headboard. Andrios looked at him confused, but the commanding glare set him to it. Mordekie tied the red silk ties around each wrist. Andrios watched as Mordekie went to the wardrobe and opened the door. Instead of clothing there was all kinds of knives and whips. Andrios froze. He broke out into a cold sweat as Mordekie pulled out a heavy braided whip and closed the door.
"Hold still." He whispered. Andrios cried out as the first blow hit him. This was unlike any pain he had felt. His entire body flared up under the hit. After about ten cracks Mordekie stopped and set the whip aside. Andrios could feel the warm blood run down his back. Then with a gasp he felt a tingle as Mordekie ran his fingers over one of the wounds. Andrios felt Mordekie's tongue lap up the blood trails one by one, antagonizing slowly. Andrios moaned loudly as Mordekie kissed the back of his neck, his lips brushing the skin softly. Without warning Andrios felt the man's nails gently rake down his back. Andrios yelped. Mordekie crawled around to kneel in front of Andrios, his knees between his legs. The monster let his lips trial down Andrio's stomach tenderly licking and nipping his flesh. Andrios's back arched to the contact. In all of his years of working at divine pleasure he had no idea of the feeling of sinful pleasure.
Over the next five years Andrios refused to cooperate with Mordekie. Mordekie just grew more and more determined. "You're a challenge. And I never walk away from challenges." He said one night as he cuddled up to Andrios.
Late one night Mordekie slammed the door open, startling Andrios out of a sound sleep. He grabbed Andrios and slammed him into the wall. Andrios's bones shook on impact. Mordekie picked him up from the floor and threw him into the bookcase. Taking advantage of the boy's weakness Mordekie placed the tight kid gloves onto Andrios's hands.
It was a night Andrios would not soon forget. After his usual whipping Mordekie came over with a candle. It looked new. It was red and smelled of cinnamon. Mordekie lit it and let the hot max drip onto Andrios. The priest cried out in pain. Mordekie smiled at the reaction. He continued this for hours. Finally he walked out of the room and came back with a bucket of ice that cradled a bottle of red wine. Andrios looked at him questioningly. Mordekie pulled open the cork with on swift motion and slowly poured the chilled wine onto Andrios's burns. Andrios groaned loudly. It was such pain that it was pleasure. As Andrios was recovering from this shock to his system Mordekie went to his wardrobe once again and took out a wicked looking dagger. The hilt of the dagger was sold gold with precius rubies and garnets embedded. The blade itself was double sided and sharp. Mordekie ran the blade over his finger tips one by one. Mordekie let the blade slowly pierce Andrios's arms. Andrios dug his nails into the sheets to keep from crying out. At first Mordekie cut lightly with only minor cuts. As his bloodlust rose, the cuts got longer and deeper. By the time Mordekie was finished Andrios looked like he had gotten mauled by a wild animal. Andrios watched as the blood fell on Moredekie's fingers. Mordekie lapped the blood, watching Andrios as he did. He then took the blade and quickly pressed it to his bottom lip. Dark crispom flowed down his mouth slowly. Mordekie came over and grabbed Andrios's long hair, pullig him up to his face. The man then kissed Andrios forcefully, letting the blood pour into his throat. Fire shot through the boy's veins. He moaned in Mordekie's mouth. In that moment something snapped. He pulled away from Mordekie's grip.
Panting loudly he said, "Release me." Mordekie swiftly cut the cord ties with his knife. Andrios pinned the man to the bed. He watched the surprise fill Mordekie's face as he pinned him to the silken sheets. Andrios bit into Mordekie's neck. The vampire let out a gasp. The priest watched silently as blood flowed down. For some reason that his logical mind couldn't explain seeing the red blood on flesh drove him to the brink of insanity. Mordekie must have felt the same because he peeled off his velevet jacket and mesh shirt.
His chest was utterly hairless and lean. Despite his reletively tan skin Andrios could see the pale blue veins in his shoulders and arms. Andrios's mouth was upon the man before he realized what he was doing. His tongue traveled over Mordekie's fangs. Mordekie held the boy close to him. He practically purred.
"You're warm. I haven't felt warmth in such a long time." He held Andrios tighter. Andrios kissed the man's shoulders, letting his tongue trace the pale veins. Mordekie shivered. Andrios sunk his teeth into his master's shoulder.
Mordekie let out a gasp. "Dri!." he breathed. Andrios laced his fingers into Mordekie's hair, carefully pulling his head back. Andrios placed a trail of kisses down the vampire's body, stopping when he reached his waist. Mordekie writhed under Andrios's touch. The pet raked his nails down Mordekie's chest as Mordekie had his back pressed against the headboard. Andrios placed one hand on the inner thigh of his master. Mordekie grabbed it and placed it between his legs. Taking the hit Andrios pressed himself into Mordekie. The man let out a loud moan. Mordekie put his hands on the priest's face and brought it to his own, kissing him.
The night went on like that. At the end the new Dri was nestled in his masters arms. Mordekie had his face pressed into the side of Dri's neck as Dri played with his hair, watching the flames in the fireplace.
"Master," he asked.
"Yes Dri?" the man asked into Dri's ear.
"Have I sinned?" Mordekie was silent for a bit.
"Yes. I suppose you have." Upon hearing this Dri tuned and kissed the man on his cool lips. He twisted the crucifix in his fingers.
He whispered in Mordekie's ear. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned…and I want to do it again and again and again."

The Rose Covered Coffin

Dri buckled the thick leather strap around his right wrist. After placing his sunglasses on he headed for the front door.
"Don't be too long Dri or I'll send Stella after you." Mordekie said after him. Dri snickered under his breath. In the twelve years that Dri had known Mordekie he hadn't changed one bit. Then again, neither had Dri.
The young man looked at the strap on his wrist. Underneath was a tattoo of a black rose. The thorns were twisted around his wrist and the actual flower bloomed on the inside of his wrist. It was the slave mark of Mordekie Bathory, his vampiric master of twelve years. He had said that the tattoo was the reason that he never aged.
Dri caught his reflection in a passing store window. He smiled and shook his head. His long ebony hair still reached his mid-back and still ended in bloody tips. His nails were long and always painted black. For never working out in his life his lean body was well toned. Around his throat was the silver gothic crucifix that hung on the many thick chains. His ears were still double pierced. He looked at the black tank top he was wearing under his long black jacket. His tight black leather pants ended in black buckle up boots.
"Not the way a priest should look." Dri said to himself in amusement.
It was true that before Dri had been the pet of Mordekie he had been Andrios Serian the Catholic priest. He had been young for such a high honor, but he had carried the title with pride. That was until Mordekie's servants, Damien and Sally, had injured him and took him back to become what he became.
Dri felt no regret now. It was too late for that. He sighed and turned away from his reflection, down the street. Mordekie had started a new nightclub in another city, close to a group of hunters that called themselves the Watchers. Dri had told his master that it was a reckless idea, but the excited vampire wouldn't hear of it.
"The club will be called the Rose Covered Coffin. It will be a basic slap in the face to those damn wanna be hunters." He had said.
Six months and six million dollars later the club was built and Dri was on his way to evaluate it.
On the subway he noticed a couple of Catholic schoolboys giving him curious looks where he stood. Dri almost said hello, but he realized that his appearance is what attracted their looks. He smirked and took off his sunglasses so that they could see the black outlined eyes that looked almost red. The boys' jaws dropped in amazement. Dri laughed and sat closer to them.
When the bus he was waiting for stopped he turned to the boys, bowed, and said "God bless." Dri could hear the boys excited voices as he entered the bus.
The bus stopped in front of a large black-bricked building. Dri was the only one to get off. A small sign said in fancy gold letters: The Rose Covered Coffin.
'This must be the place." Dri thought as he opened the door. A pale, thin man stood to the side.
"Hey, you can't come in here without the password." He shouted at Dri's back. Dri stopped and unbuckled his strap. He lifted his arm so the man could see his tattoo.
"Is that enough of a password?" he asked sarcastically. The man's eyes widened.
"Please forgive me sir. I didn't know you were with Mordekie." Dri snorted and continued down the long black hall. Dri entered the main room of the club and started to observe his surroundings. The entire room was in shades of red and black. The lights were red lights. The redwood floor was covered in red tinted fog. All of the sofas were blood red and black satin with red or black silk pillows. The tables were the same type of wood as the floor. The bar had smooth black stone on it's top. Although it was just past eight the club was pact. Throbbing music, not unlike the sounds at the Devil's Hour were blaring through the speakers.
A pale figure waved at Dri from behind the bar. Dri smiled. It was Noah. With his curly light blond hair and pure blue eyes he looked like an innocent young man. Dri, however, was far from fooled. Noah had been responsible for over half of the Watcher killings in the past two moths. There were fifty killings in all. Dri walked over to the bar, casually ignoring the looks the bar patrons gave him.
"Hey there Noah. How long have you been here?" Noah smiled, flashing his fangs. He was Mordekie's first and most favored fledgling.
"About an hour. This place is really jumping tonight. I guess my kind couldn't help playing chicken with those Watchers." Dri laughed, shaking his head.
"The only reason you're here is to be closer to the Watcher group so you can off a few more." Dri accused playfully. Noah gave him his best innocent look. If Dri hadn't known him so well he would have fallen for it.
"Mordekie wants you to wait for him in the back room." Noah said as he walked away to fill an order. Dri sighed and proceeded to the back of the bar.
Dri's first thought was that he had gone colorblind. The room was entirely black and white. A soft black carpet adorned the floor with matching walls. The furniture was entirely white as well as the large marble fireplace. Black vases of white roses lay as the only decorations on the white coffee table. In fact the only things that weren't black or white was Dri and the other person in the room.
He lounged lazily on the white leather couch. His hair was a deep bronze color. It fell in curly waves past his shoulders. The eyes that stared at Dri with curiosity were deep amber with flecks of gold. Around his neck was a chain of gold. His left ear was pierced all the way up with small gold hoops. On his middle finger of his right hand rested a amber band that glowed in the firelight. The man wore tan slacks and a dark scarlet shirt that hung loosely on his body, but the material showed his seemingly perfect form. He smiled to reveal a set of fangs.
"Good evening." He said in a slight southern accent that wasn't too heavy and sounded more sophisticated than a drawl. "My name is Kilo Ryder. I am your master's business partner for the Rose Covered Coffin." Dri continued to stare at him. He was a vampire, but something didn't quite fit. Kilo must have realized what was troubling him.
"I am both vampire and elf." He explained, pushing his hair back, showing Dri the pointed tips of his ears. His hand shot out to grasp Dri's, pulling him forward.
"I see your master chose well when he made you his." Kilo purred in his ear. Dri didn't flinch. He had learned to control himself through the years.
"I'm glad you think so Kilo. But he is, as you say, mine." A voice said behind them. There stood Mordekie. His dark brown hair shone in the flames. Usually the vampire's gray-blue eyes were friendly and bright. As they glared at Kilo, however, they were dark and stormy. Kilo smiled at Mordekie. It reminded Dri of a wolf.
"Now, now Kie. There's no reason for anger. I was just observing him." Kilo said, letting Dri go. Mordekie came over and placed a firm and on Dri's shoulder.
"Dri, help me check the guest list for any under age vampires." He said pleasantly. Dri knew Mordekie wanted to talk to him in private. As soon as they retreated to the outside of the club the grin on Mordekie's face slipped off.
"Be very careful around Kilo Dri. He isn't safe to anyone. Not even me, and especially not you." Dri sighed in exasperation.
"Why do you choose to associate with people who are dangers to you?" He asked. Mordekie bit his lip while looking at the servant. Dri had a hard time keeping his anger up. When Mordekie gave him that pained look he wanted to run into his master's arms and beg his forgiveness.
"I have a theory. If I become friends with the ones who are dangerous to be enemies with then I'll be safe." Dri simply shook his head. "Do you think ill of me now Dri?" Mordekie asked, sounding hurt. This time the anger vanished. Dri walked over and held his master.
"No, I think you're foolish to dance with death, but I could never think ill of you." Mordekie smiled.
"Thank you dear Dri." He said. As they reentered the black and white room Dri viewed Kilo as he sipped a glass of dark blood.
"I think the opening is doing grandly." Kilo said, raising his glass to Mordekie in a silent toast. Mordekie nodded happily. Dri was about to make a comment when the door burst open, banging into the wall so hard the doorknob was stuck in the wall. In the doorway stood a woman who looked like she came up to Dri's shoulders. Her short black hair was cut into a stylish frame around her olive face. Her large eyes were inky black. She wore a short black leather skirt and a black jacket that covered a midnight blue silk blouse. Her boots laced to mold along her well-formed calves. Dri could just see the hilt of a dagger shoved into one of her boots. She looked like a character out a Grimm fairy tale.
"Bathory I want this damn club shut down tonight!" She snarled in a light voice that didn't fit her dark appearance. "I've been more than forgiving for the first fifty killing your people did. But this charade of creatures so close to the Watchers Motherhouse is too much!"
"Calm down Ms. Killian. We have every right to be here as you do. We bought this land fair and square." Mordekie tried to reason. Ms. Killian gave a laugh that sounded more like a bark.
"For all I know you killed the last owner and stole this property. No, I tell you this mockery of the Watchers has not gone unnoticed. You even had the gall to put the main murderer of my people behind your bar." She snapped.
"What Noah does in his free time is not my concern." Mordekie said coolly. Ms. Killian glared at him. Then her gaze turned to Dri and she gave a twisted smile.
"It will be once you find your pet here in pieces at your breakfast table." She whispered. "Mark my words, Bathory. Clear out tonight or I'll slaughter them all and force you to watch." With that she slammed the door behind her. It was silent for a few minutes. The only sound was the cheery crackle of the fire.
"Well…that went pleasantly I think." Kilo said, sipping his blood once more. Mordekie sighed and fell to one of the leather armchairs, head in hands, his dark hair flowing to the floor. Dri came over and put his head on the vampire's knee.
"Don't worry Master. I'll protect you." He said. Mordekie gave a sobbing laugh.
"I just want to protect you." He whispered hoarsely, running a cool finger across Dri's jaw line.
Despite the hunter's threats the night seemed to be going as planned. It wasn't until midnight that the screams started. Dri snapped out of a dozing state and rushed out of the room before Mordekie could stop him. The young man skidded into the hall. At first the scene didn't register in Dri's mind. The crowd was gathered around the stage, but they weren't crying out in painful agony. They were waving money.
On the stage stood a steel pole. The metal glinted off the lights. A man with white hair that fell to his knees twisted himself skillfully around the pole. He wore only a pair of emerald green silk pants at matched his eyes. He was long limbed and lean. His flesh was sheet white and flawless. Every move the creature made seemed to be like liquid, as if he wasn't solid at all. The crowd loved it though. Across his white back was a French saying in flowing crimson calligraphy: Je suis mort. Alors j'ai gagne mes instincts.
"I died. Then I gained my instincts." Dri whispered.
"Correct Dri. I see Nikademus has captured you attention as well." Kilo said behind him. "I'm so glad I hired him to perform here. I think he'll be a great money maker."
"What is he?" Dri asked. Kilo gave his cat-ate-the canary smile.
"He's a lamia." Dri's eyes widened in amazement.
"A weresnake." Kilo nodded.
"They're very…flexible." Kilo winked at Nikademus who blew him a kiss from the stage. After his song had ended the lamia slunk past the crowd and up to the pair.
"Enjoyed the show?" He asked. His speech held a hint of French. Just enough for effect. Enough to make Dri shiver. Kilo smiled at him.
"As always." Nikademus smiled back, as he did Dri saw fangs longer than a vampire. Nikademus noticed him staring and the fangs suddenly disappeared into his gums.
"Retractable fangs, neat." Dri said. Nikademus grinned at him.
"Yes, I think so too." Kilo put an arm around the snake's waist and kissed him passionately. Nikademus returned the kiss with passion.
"Hey, no PDA." Dri said jokingly. He couldn't imagine how Kilo was a danger to Mordekie. He seemed friendly enough.
The night carried on as planned. Noah, Nikademus, and Dri chatted at the bar while Mordekie and Kilo discussed business in a huddled corner.
"I've never met a lamia before." Noah said. He was a bit in awe of the snake. Nikademus smiled.
"We are one of the only true immortal creatures on this earth, but alas we are rare."
"So is Kilo your mate?" Dri asked. Nikademus chocked on his drink of strawberry martini.
"Ye Gods no. Like vampires we are intimately friendly with those we know and care for."
"Oh." Dri said, turning a bit pink as Noah winked at him.
"Hey Dri, want to be intimately friendly with me?" He teased. Dri shoved him off the stool.
"Not on your unlife pal." Dri growled playfully. Nikademus laughed at the spectacle
Early into the morning Dri lay in his master's bed. After the club had closed for the night Mordekie's excitement for the successful night had taken a lustful turn. It had taken hours for Dri to finally lay the right way so that all of his bites and bruises didn't hinder his sleep.
There was a crash in the weak dawn. Dri sat up quickly, too quickly. He let out a soft groan. The servant looked over to see that Mordekie was not next to him as was customary. In a panic Dri pulled on a pair of black sweat pants and fled the room. He was just about to turn the corner when he heard Kilo hiss.
"The boy will be mine. I've waited long enough. We don't want the Watchers suddenly attacking your precious club to we?" His voice was like an artic wind.
"Take what you want, but if you touch Dri I will bite your fingers off one by one." Mordekie growled in response. Kilo gave a sharp laugh.
"I have your blood Mordekie. It races through my veins now. If the boy is not mine tomorrow night I will take more than I did tonight. And wouldn't it be tragic if your lovely Dri was left orphaned, alone to face the dark and the monsters that reside there?" He whispered. Mordekie mumbled something. Dri took a risk to peek over the corner. Mordekie's face was white; a pale stand of blood ran like a ribbon down his face and neck. He was on the floor. One of Kilo's hands was pinning his arm behind his back. The other was twisted in Mordekie's hair, pulling his head back. Dri could clearly see two neat fang marks in the bloody mess.
'So that's what Mordekie meant by dangerous.' Dri thought angrily. Kilo let go of Mordekie, shoving him in front of Ms. Killian's feet, which Dri now noticed was there.
"Tomorrow is your last shot Bathory. Give the master what he wants or I'll tear this place down brink by bloody brick."
'What the hell?' Dri thought. 'Wasn't she a hunter? Or was she Kilo's pet like I am to Mordekie?' Dri wondered. Ms. Killian gave Mordekie a good kick in the ribs as the left, walking out with Kilo. As soon as the door shut behind them Dri rushed over.
"Damn them to Hell." He cursed as he helped Mordekie up. The master vampire slumped against him.
"I'm so sorry Dri. I thought I could handle them." His voice trembled. Dri caught the tears as they fell.
"Don't be we'll take care of them."
"How?" Dri gave him an evil smile.
"Tomorrow we go to war."
The next night the lights dimmed for the evening show. Dri stood by the pole with Nikademus. When the snake heard what Kilo had done he immediately agreed to help them.
"He's lived for far too long anyway." The snake said with thick malice.
The lights faded to a tantalizing purple as the song The Principles of Lust played in the background. Both Dri and Nikademus were covered in silver body glitter that made them shimmer in the violet light. Dri was in a pair of dark navy leather pants while Nikademus sported his traditional green silk pants. As the beat picked up the two began to dance fluidly around one another. Their fingertips never leaving one another's as they moved. They moved around the pole, every now and then grinding against it as they came together. Out of the corner of his eye Dri could see Kilo sitting next to Mordekie, thoroughly enjoying the show.
Nikademus wrapped is body around the pole as Dri went down for a complete split. The snake slithered upside down the pole and kissed Dri briefly, his long tongue flicking out to trace the servant's lips. He tasted of mint. While still in the split Dri leaned hi head back, his long hair brushing the floor. Nikademus took his cue and slowly licked up Dri's throat. This was also the cue for Noah to shut the lights off completely.
The crowd gasped in fright as this happened, although most of them would be able to see after a few seconds. Noah jumped from behind the bar, bringing with him the gun that he used for rowdy customers. Mordekie was grabbed by Dri and quickly lead away while Nikademus held Kilo.
"You little tramp. You'll rue the day you turned on me!" Kilo screeched. Nikademus laughed and struck, his fangs sinking into the vampire's shoulder. Kilo stiffened and a trail of blood ran down his mouth and nose. Nikademus pushed him over carelessly. He fell into the fog, truly dead.
A shot ran out. Noah, who held the hunter in his hands, turned on the lights. Her arm was bleeding. Kicking and squirming Noah dragged the woman up to the stage in front of the crowd. They stared at her as if hypnotized. Though it was a rule for most clubs to feed, the Rose Covered Coffin usually provided the nourishment. Tonight Noah had shut off the taps saying there was a shortage. Noah held the bleeding woman over the half-starved mass.
"What are you going to do with me?" she cried. Noah shook her roughly.
"Giving you your due and adding one more kill to my list." He snarled, throwing her to the crowd. It took a few seconds for them to completely cover the hunter in a mass of dark clothing and pale skin. Her screams echoed off the walls, until they faded. Nikademus sighed, shaking his head.
"Vicious creatures you lot." He stated. Dri and Noah smiled and glomped him. Mordekie came over and put his arms around Dri.
"Thank you." He whispered in the young man's ear. Dri turned and kissed him.
"No thanks needed, I did what I had to in order to keep you safe." Mordekie flashed him an evil smile.
"So now that Kilo is gone who's going to keep you safe from me?" He purred. Dri laughed shakily.
"I guess you'll need a new partner." He avoided the question. Mordekie shook his head.
"No. In the event of Kilo's death Nikademus takes his place." The snake smiled over Noah's shoulder.
"Great. Just what I need, a snake for a boss. I wonder what's next." Noah moaned. Nikademus grinned, his fangs sliding from there sheaths.
"Oh...you'll find out. You'll find out."