(( Continued from http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?t=473 ))
The manor was warm. It was a detail he insisted upon, though it was unnecessary for him. He liked to feel warm. The cold could not hurt him, it was not uncomfortable or dangerous, but warmth was a luxury, and for that simple fact he liked it. The guests and servants he had also needed it, expected it, or things would be strange for them. Only the cellars were cold. That was desirable.
The air smelled of candles, wood, leather, and expensive spices that were hard to find since trade ceased through Marn. Lacquered mahogany complimented furniture and rimmed the doorways that weren't stone arches. The sounds of his footsteps and the creaking floor were absorbed by the manor. The walls were thick, the windows painted black and hidden behind thick curtains, creating a thick and heavy silence.
He took Jenica to a comfortable sofa and set her down in it. Blood and dirt from the woods fell down around her, destroying the meticulous cleanliness of it all. The maids would get to it in the morning.
He was also becoming tired slowly. The journey and the fight had taken much of his remaining strength, along with the blood he had given her. Tomorrow would be a night of feeding and something to look foreword to.
Jenica's wounds were a mess. She was practically eviscerated by his claws. Guts were showing and hanging out in some places, and if she were alive her blood would be spurting out with each heartbeat. Instead it just pooled in the cavity and slowly dripped out the holes in her back. Healing her was going to be much easier if she could sleep through it.
Pulling up a chair to sit comfortably beside her, he slowly began to mend the wounds. The scars caused by his own claws were what refused to heal, and in the places where she had delicate tissues, complicated organs like her lungs, he could do nothing. He lacked the skill to rebuild things like that, and doubted that anyone did.
The rest, however, he could do. He closed holes where he found them, pulled the skin over them and reshaped what he knew she needed. Muscles, severed intestines, even nerves. He navigated her innards with skill accumulated from dozens of years and hundreds of subjects. His hands felt soft and her body willingly gave way to his touch. Where he could operate, there was no more pain, and soon the blood stopped dripping out.
The Early Lessons
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
In the watery dreamscape, Jenica's stomach was open and her blood drifted around her, sifting through the water. She floated in silence, enjoying the sensation of drifting. She waved her left arm before her, watching the dimpled skin at the end waver against the water pressure. She wavered and twirled, floating back and forth in her mind's ocean, swimming along the currents. But her stomach felt odd, and finally she stopped moving, straightening herself out and orienting herself. She looked down, but it was dark, this deep inside the waters. And so she placed her left hand into the cavity within her chest, and her eyes widened as she felt things...shifting. Changing. Put back where they belong. It was a fascinating sensation, to feel her skin flaps smoothed out and reattached to muscle, to feel muscle itself moving and being reconnected. Her stomach reformed under her hand, while she remained still, awed by the sensations.
Then the jolting pain. It seared across her landscape, a silent predator gliding along in the underwater realm. She couldn't see it, but she could sense it, knew its presence was near. It approached again, and slid a tentacle across her belly, reawakening the pain which had lain dormant in that area. It was healed on the surface, to a degree, but the interior...the ache settled in her chest, right between her diaphram and lungs. Ah yes, the exterior was pieced together and slid shut, but inside, she was still scrambled. Still broken.
Another jolt, and...
Her eyes flew open as another bolt of pain shot through her system, and she jerked along with its path. Her back arched as the agony lanced her stomach again, forcing her completely from unconsciousness into reality and possibly damaging some of Bela's work. She collapsed against the cushions as an array of unfamiliar smells invaded, along with the foreign sensation of heat. So foreign, in fact, that she didn't understand what it was. The spices and other assorted smells didn't help; she hadn't been inside of anything but a tavern, filled with the stench of human sweat and mead, in over a year.
"W....w..."
Confused, dazed from the pain still rolling through her body, she tried to speak, to ask where and what, but it wouldn't come, clogged behind the blood in her throat, no air to force it out. Her focus narrowed, and she stared at him as panic began to set in. She was in unfamiliar territory, with a creature stronger than her, injured and unarmed. If she'd been panting, she'd be the perfect image of an injured, terrified animal as it scanned the parts of the room it could see, trying to find escape. Another few moments, and she started trying to sit up, to move and leave, runrunrunrunrun until you're far, far away, get away from this place...
She stopped when the pain surfaced again and lay still, her one hand braced against the cushions, staring at the ceiling with wide, wild-shy eyes. She couldn't remember anything beyond hitting the ground in the clearing earlier, just before slipping away. Nothing at all. Where was she, and why was she here? Nothing provided an answer.
Then the jolting pain. It seared across her landscape, a silent predator gliding along in the underwater realm. She couldn't see it, but she could sense it, knew its presence was near. It approached again, and slid a tentacle across her belly, reawakening the pain which had lain dormant in that area. It was healed on the surface, to a degree, but the interior...the ache settled in her chest, right between her diaphram and lungs. Ah yes, the exterior was pieced together and slid shut, but inside, she was still scrambled. Still broken.
Another jolt, and...
Her eyes flew open as another bolt of pain shot through her system, and she jerked along with its path. Her back arched as the agony lanced her stomach again, forcing her completely from unconsciousness into reality and possibly damaging some of Bela's work. She collapsed against the cushions as an array of unfamiliar smells invaded, along with the foreign sensation of heat. So foreign, in fact, that she didn't understand what it was. The spices and other assorted smells didn't help; she hadn't been inside of anything but a tavern, filled with the stench of human sweat and mead, in over a year.
"W....w..."
Confused, dazed from the pain still rolling through her body, she tried to speak, to ask where and what, but it wouldn't come, clogged behind the blood in her throat, no air to force it out. Her focus narrowed, and she stared at him as panic began to set in. She was in unfamiliar territory, with a creature stronger than her, injured and unarmed. If she'd been panting, she'd be the perfect image of an injured, terrified animal as it scanned the parts of the room it could see, trying to find escape. Another few moments, and she started trying to sit up, to move and leave, runrunrunrunrun until you're far, far away, get away from this place...
She stopped when the pain surfaced again and lay still, her one hand braced against the cushions, staring at the ceiling with wide, wild-shy eyes. She couldn't remember anything beyond hitting the ground in the clearing earlier, just before slipping away. Nothing at all. Where was she, and why was she here? Nothing provided an answer.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
He withdrew his hands from her stomach when she jolted awake, arching her back dangerously close to his claws and severing a few of the less than perfect connections that hadn't yet healed. Unimportant things inside of her gave way, but her skin and bone was like new.
He watched over her cautiously but all she did was stare and grip the couch. First at him, and then up at the ceiling. He made no move to restrain her yet.
"Do not try to speak, your lungs will need several days to heal."
He sat back and gave her some room. His single red eye never left her, and even with the other still missing he managed to look refined, even regal. His silky black hair draped perfectly over his shoulders and his face was as flawless and chiseled as ever. The dim candle light of his manor made him look human. He had serene confidence unseen in creatures under a century old.
He scanned her face with the eye and tried to understand what she was going to do. He knew shock, horror, and pain. She was still thinking about running, and somehow he read it in her.
"If you run, you will still be without a hand."
He looked down at her stump of a wrist and then back to her eyes, making sure she was hearing his words. Her severed hand was resting on the floor between them, thrown away by her convulsions.
"Let me give it back to you first."
He watched over her cautiously but all she did was stare and grip the couch. First at him, and then up at the ceiling. He made no move to restrain her yet.
"Do not try to speak, your lungs will need several days to heal."
He sat back and gave her some room. His single red eye never left her, and even with the other still missing he managed to look refined, even regal. His silky black hair draped perfectly over his shoulders and his face was as flawless and chiseled as ever. The dim candle light of his manor made him look human. He had serene confidence unseen in creatures under a century old.
He scanned her face with the eye and tried to understand what she was going to do. He knew shock, horror, and pain. She was still thinking about running, and somehow he read it in her.
"If you run, you will still be without a hand."
He looked down at her stump of a wrist and then back to her eyes, making sure she was hearing his words. Her severed hand was resting on the floor between them, thrown away by her convulsions.
"Let me give it back to you first."
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Hand. Yes, she remembered her hand. Remembered it falling to the ground, without her attached to it. He was the one who'd broken it, and now, he was...fixing it.
She looked over at him, focusing first on his face and then moving her gaze down, examining his appearance. He had to be a lord of some sort, dressed in those clothes and with that calm demeanor. And she was trapped here, in his domain. The ache in her belly - it would take several days to heal. Several days.
The deal came back in pieces, crumbling into her awareness and explaining the situation. A deal made, to get her hand back, to have her wounds healed. It meant nothing, but already her stomach was partially done through his ministrations. And now she would have her hand back. A few days more, to let the healing settle, and she could leave again, whole and perhaps a little better for it.
She looked down at her stomach, eyeing the work he'd done. She ran a hand over the wound, still visible but not gaping, as it had been before. Scarred. She wondered if the scars would ever heal, but didn't care either way.
Surrounded by finery and his regal appearance, her own lordling's training came to her, left over from human times. For a wild moment, she had the notion that she should be grateful to him, even thank him...but he'd caused the damage in the first place. And she wasn't the thanking type.
The fight in her was gone for the moment, and she laid back, patient and calm, to wait for him to finish fixing her. Just a few days. Just a few, and she could leave again.
She looked over at him, focusing first on his face and then moving her gaze down, examining his appearance. He had to be a lord of some sort, dressed in those clothes and with that calm demeanor. And she was trapped here, in his domain. The ache in her belly - it would take several days to heal. Several days.
The deal came back in pieces, crumbling into her awareness and explaining the situation. A deal made, to get her hand back, to have her wounds healed. It meant nothing, but already her stomach was partially done through his ministrations. And now she would have her hand back. A few days more, to let the healing settle, and she could leave again, whole and perhaps a little better for it.
She looked down at her stomach, eyeing the work he'd done. She ran a hand over the wound, still visible but not gaping, as it had been before. Scarred. She wondered if the scars would ever heal, but didn't care either way.
Surrounded by finery and his regal appearance, her own lordling's training came to her, left over from human times. For a wild moment, she had the notion that she should be grateful to him, even thank him...but he'd caused the damage in the first place. And she wasn't the thanking type.
The fight in her was gone for the moment, and she laid back, patient and calm, to wait for him to finish fixing her. Just a few days. Just a few, and she could leave again.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
He looked at her stomach when she did. Using his gifts to heal her, to repair damage he had done, was the most altruistic purpose he had used them for in as long as he could remember, and it wasn't very altruistic at all. He had his own reasons for wanting her healed and for wanting her to grow as his child, to make him proud. It was no more altruistic than giving a dog a treat, or giving the peasants of shim the quiet lives they wanted.
He wanted to love her. Not the way one loves an object, because he had loves like that. The city, his paintings, his wealth and status, and all the projects he had nurtured over the years. Those things he loved and killed for, but they were not alive. He couldn't love living things, never had, and never would if she failed to meet his expectations. If he created her the way he created his other loves, and she turned out to be a failure, she would have to die. That prospect didn't bother him at all. The only thing that bothered him was the idea he might never have a child he could love and call a success. It was the last and truest form of immortality, and he had to have it.
Leaning over in his chair, he picked her stiff hand up off the floor and held it in his own. He felt its contours and with his gift he could feel inside of it. The hand's inner workings gave themselves away to him and obeyed his will the same way the rest of Jenica had done. His thumb passed over the stump where her wrist used to be and the flesh parted to reveal a deep red, shiny inside. Neat and tidy, the bones were not broken but rather looked as though they had grown the way they were. Cold blood oozed out onto the carpet.
With the severed hand in one, he took her wrist with the other and, after a second of coaxing, passed his thumb over it in the same manner. Her flesh parted, her blood started to drip out, and the naked innards of her wrists glistened in the candle light. He brought them together and they stuck like clay. The touch of his fingertips coaxed them further, joining the flesh and sealing the two parts into one. At first the connection was awkward and tenuous, but as he gripped the joint in his hand, squeezed and pushed, the bones found their places and she could feel her hand responding once more.
He straightened up in the chair and let her blood drip off his hands.
"In a few hours it will be back to normal. As will the rest of you."
His maids were waiting quietly out of sight for his signal to come clean up the mess. Instead he planned to leave Jenica alone and undisturbed. If the maids came at night, she would probably kill them, and he liked the ones he had now. In his regal fashion, he held his hands up in order to avoid smearing more blood on his fine clothes and furniture. He looked into her eyes again. The left one was still closed.
"I will let you spend the day here. Unguarded."
He wanted to love her. Not the way one loves an object, because he had loves like that. The city, his paintings, his wealth and status, and all the projects he had nurtured over the years. Those things he loved and killed for, but they were not alive. He couldn't love living things, never had, and never would if she failed to meet his expectations. If he created her the way he created his other loves, and she turned out to be a failure, she would have to die. That prospect didn't bother him at all. The only thing that bothered him was the idea he might never have a child he could love and call a success. It was the last and truest form of immortality, and he had to have it.
Leaning over in his chair, he picked her stiff hand up off the floor and held it in his own. He felt its contours and with his gift he could feel inside of it. The hand's inner workings gave themselves away to him and obeyed his will the same way the rest of Jenica had done. His thumb passed over the stump where her wrist used to be and the flesh parted to reveal a deep red, shiny inside. Neat and tidy, the bones were not broken but rather looked as though they had grown the way they were. Cold blood oozed out onto the carpet.
With the severed hand in one, he took her wrist with the other and, after a second of coaxing, passed his thumb over it in the same manner. Her flesh parted, her blood started to drip out, and the naked innards of her wrists glistened in the candle light. He brought them together and they stuck like clay. The touch of his fingertips coaxed them further, joining the flesh and sealing the two parts into one. At first the connection was awkward and tenuous, but as he gripped the joint in his hand, squeezed and pushed, the bones found their places and she could feel her hand responding once more.
He straightened up in the chair and let her blood drip off his hands.
"In a few hours it will be back to normal. As will the rest of you."
His maids were waiting quietly out of sight for his signal to come clean up the mess. Instead he planned to leave Jenica alone and undisturbed. If the maids came at night, she would probably kill them, and he liked the ones he had now. In his regal fashion, he held his hands up in order to avoid smearing more blood on his fine clothes and furniture. He looked into her eyes again. The left one was still closed.
"I will let you spend the day here. Unguarded."
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Jenica made no movement or sound while he attached her hand, instead focusing on the bizarre sensation of her flesh being molded. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but the pain lasted a mere moment as he pressed wrist and hand together and melded the flesh into itself. She assessed everything he did, and added it to her mental dossier. He could manipulate skin and bone like clay. She wondered how close he had to be to do so. Or if it required his touch. She would need to make a point of staying out of his reach. She didn't like being touched either way, so it wouldn't be a hard thing to remember.
When he finished and released her wrist, she held the hand before her face, flexing the fingers. His comment grated on her desire to leave as soon as possible, but she had decided to wait and see if she could take advantage of this. She might come out of this in better physical form than before. She only needed patience...and silence. Another easy task. Her innards still weren't healed enough for her to talk, but she could feel them shifting and adjusting. She was relieved for that.
She snapped her eyes to him when he commented that she would be left alone during the day. A perfect setup, and she couldn't act on it. Not yet. But it might not be the sole opportunity. And besides, once the sun rose, there was nowhere she could go, nothing she could do. Not while the sun sat above the horizon, and she was this far from the woods. And not while her body was still mending itself. His blood and healing touch helped, but her body craved more, craved its own source of blood, craved...
The heartbeats registered then, the scent of humans standing close by. Bloodlust built within her, and even more the simple need to kill, to feel the life leave another creature's body. She balled her fist and shuttered her eyes, sensing them out from where she lay, taking stock of their approximate location. If they were still there when he departed, leaving her to her own devices...she wondered just how many servants this manor had. She was restless and ready to move, although the going might be slow for a bit. She wanted to explore, perhaps even find every servant in attendance and rip their throat out. It would be a diversion, at least.
When he finished and released her wrist, she held the hand before her face, flexing the fingers. His comment grated on her desire to leave as soon as possible, but she had decided to wait and see if she could take advantage of this. She might come out of this in better physical form than before. She only needed patience...and silence. Another easy task. Her innards still weren't healed enough for her to talk, but she could feel them shifting and adjusting. She was relieved for that.
She snapped her eyes to him when he commented that she would be left alone during the day. A perfect setup, and she couldn't act on it. Not yet. But it might not be the sole opportunity. And besides, once the sun rose, there was nowhere she could go, nothing she could do. Not while the sun sat above the horizon, and she was this far from the woods. And not while her body was still mending itself. His blood and healing touch helped, but her body craved more, craved its own source of blood, craved...
The heartbeats registered then, the scent of humans standing close by. Bloodlust built within her, and even more the simple need to kill, to feel the life leave another creature's body. She balled her fist and shuttered her eyes, sensing them out from where she lay, taking stock of their approximate location. If they were still there when he departed, leaving her to her own devices...she wondered just how many servants this manor had. She was restless and ready to move, although the going might be slow for a bit. She wanted to explore, perhaps even find every servant in attendance and rip their throat out. It would be a diversion, at least.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
She clearly took his statement that she would be unguarded as an invitation to try and flee, which is precisely what it was. Her attempting to leave again would serve as another lesson, for she certainly was going to try again. It was a question of when, not if.
Once she tested the hand, he watched her close her eyes and suddenly tense up in a different way than before. This time it wasn't because of him that she shut herself off, it was something else. But what?
Of course. She was hungry. The blood he had given her was not enough, she must still be starved for food. He could go weeks without feeding, but she only days at the most. She could sense his servants idling nearby, moving around the manor and filling it with their warmth and aroma.
If he left her alone, she would definitely kill one... But a creature like her might not stop at one. She could go through them all, destroy his whole crop of retainers and force him to replace them all. Such a task would take a very long time, and the ones he had now were groomed so perfectly. He couldn't let it happen.
He looked down one of the many hallways leading to the room they were in and called out.
"Come, Charlotte."
Charlotte was the one he least liked. The newest of the bunch, she was too weak of spirit when he found her. She let him take her away and never protested his abuses. Day by day she was growing into a useless husk. Something to be disposed of.
A young, petite woman appeared from around a corner where she had been waiting since Bela arrived. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and wore a fancy green dress that puffed out below the waist and ended like a full blossomed flower around her feet. She had makeup on, diamond earings, a gold ring around her middle finger on her left hand, and her long hair was done up in a bow behind her head with a silk sash.
Charlotte said nothing and kept her eyes to the floor, waiting for instructions.
"My child is hungry, you will feed her and the rest of you will leave the Manor for the day."
He knew that the others could hear him. Indeed they could already be heard shuffling about, preparing to leave at the most appropriate time. Charlotte glanced up at Bela, questioning him with her eyes, and he gave her an answer without speaking. His answer was that he didn't care. He stood up from his chair, kept his filthy hands away from his clothes, and started for his room.
"And get her cleaned up first."
She looked at Jenica for only a second then. She was afraid but she was also not entirely there. She knew Jenica was going to want to kill her, but she listened to Bela anyway. Her fear was suppressed by something that was flooding her thoughts and it was not strong enough to make her take action. Instead she moved to the drawer of a desk beside the couch on which Jenica was laying, and pulled out a clean, white cloth.
Once she tested the hand, he watched her close her eyes and suddenly tense up in a different way than before. This time it wasn't because of him that she shut herself off, it was something else. But what?
Of course. She was hungry. The blood he had given her was not enough, she must still be starved for food. He could go weeks without feeding, but she only days at the most. She could sense his servants idling nearby, moving around the manor and filling it with their warmth and aroma.
If he left her alone, she would definitely kill one... But a creature like her might not stop at one. She could go through them all, destroy his whole crop of retainers and force him to replace them all. Such a task would take a very long time, and the ones he had now were groomed so perfectly. He couldn't let it happen.
He looked down one of the many hallways leading to the room they were in and called out.
"Come, Charlotte."
Charlotte was the one he least liked. The newest of the bunch, she was too weak of spirit when he found her. She let him take her away and never protested his abuses. Day by day she was growing into a useless husk. Something to be disposed of.
A young, petite woman appeared from around a corner where she had been waiting since Bela arrived. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and wore a fancy green dress that puffed out below the waist and ended like a full blossomed flower around her feet. She had makeup on, diamond earings, a gold ring around her middle finger on her left hand, and her long hair was done up in a bow behind her head with a silk sash.
Charlotte said nothing and kept her eyes to the floor, waiting for instructions.
"My child is hungry, you will feed her and the rest of you will leave the Manor for the day."
He knew that the others could hear him. Indeed they could already be heard shuffling about, preparing to leave at the most appropriate time. Charlotte glanced up at Bela, questioning him with her eyes, and he gave her an answer without speaking. His answer was that he didn't care. He stood up from his chair, kept his filthy hands away from his clothes, and started for his room.
"And get her cleaned up first."
She looked at Jenica for only a second then. She was afraid but she was also not entirely there. She knew Jenica was going to want to kill her, but she listened to Bela anyway. Her fear was suppressed by something that was flooding her thoughts and it was not strong enough to make her take action. Instead she moved to the drawer of a desk beside the couch on which Jenica was laying, and pulled out a clean, white cloth.
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
She listened absently while Bela ordered one servant into the room. The girl's pulse filled her head and settled in her abdomen, where the hunger lay, and Jenica kept a bearing on the woman's location from the corner of her eye. Bela's presence stayed her in once place, though she suspected that it wouldn't matter either way. She didn't think she could move at a fast pace, due to her injuries.
They were leaving, all of them...except this one. At his bidding. She listened silently as their pulses dimmed with distance, and waited for him to leave the room as well. She kept her eyes shuttered, watching his movements from the corner of her eye until he left her alone with the servant girl. The only one left. She was disappointed that she wouldn't have the sport of finding them all and killing them where they stood, but there was still much to explore.
He'd ordered her cleaned up before he left, and the servant reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white cloth. It matched the woman's appearance; compared to Jenica's bloody and battered physicality, this woman was the highest rank. But Jenica had never given her appearance a second, or even first, thought, and wouldn't start to do so based on this human's cleanliness. Once Bela was out of immediate range, the vampire sat up and swung her legs around to the floor, planting her feet. A moment's dizziness gave her pause, but it passed and she was left staring into the dulled, listless eyes of the human.
There was something missing in those eyes. Some spark of will, of life and opinion. Jenica cocked her head as the woman raised the cloth and wiped at the vampire's face. Blood and dirt flaked on her legs and the floor. Another moment, and the raging hunger could stand no more. Her repaired hand rose, grabbed the woman's wrist, twisted the human around and continued pulling the arm up until she heard a pop. The woman's instant scream of pain was muffled by the vampire's other hand covering her mouth. Jenica enjoyed the woman's tugging struggles, her last attempts at life, before digging her fangs into the side of the woman's throat and ripping a chunk from the flesh. She spit this to the side, then placed her mouth over the wound, letting the blood run into her mouth and down her throat. She could feel the cleansing wash of it as it aided in the repairs of her body, and enjoyed the warm liquid's path down her esophagus and into her sore stomach. From there, it would spread.
But the woman was thin, and bled through within minutes. Jenica released her all at once, allowing the body to drop to the floor in a clumsy heap. The woman wasn't quite dead - there was the barest flicker of awareness in her eyes - and Jenica twisted her head to look down at the servant. The spark was still missing, but the woman's last moments of awareness centered on the creature perched on the couch, covered in dirt and old or new blood, torn and tattered...and uncaring. The girl had a name. He'd even used it. The vampire neither remembered nor cared to try. She was only human.
Jenica stood, a difficult and painful procedure, and started a hobbling limp from the couch, to at least inspect this one room. The woman's body bled out the rest of its contents onto the floor from its wrecked and unnatural position. Jenica ignored this, as she always did. Soon the woman's bowels would release, and rot would set in. The room would become most uninhabitable then. It was time to go.
She paused at the doorway, then leaned against the doorframe itself. Just the small effort of standing and walking to the archway left her worn. Again, her disappointment with the lack of servants returned - she could have gorged herself on them, regained some strength, but now she was limited to one petite girl. The blood would be burnt out by nightfall. She would have to wait until the others returned, and hunt them then.
She closed her eyes and sniffed. Above the increasing scent of decay from behind her, there was his scent, travelling along the entire mansion. The freshest moved due west. Her decision was made easier. Wherever he went, she would not.
She straightened and began a steady, measuring pace due east from him.
They were leaving, all of them...except this one. At his bidding. She listened silently as their pulses dimmed with distance, and waited for him to leave the room as well. She kept her eyes shuttered, watching his movements from the corner of her eye until he left her alone with the servant girl. The only one left. She was disappointed that she wouldn't have the sport of finding them all and killing them where they stood, but there was still much to explore.
He'd ordered her cleaned up before he left, and the servant reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white cloth. It matched the woman's appearance; compared to Jenica's bloody and battered physicality, this woman was the highest rank. But Jenica had never given her appearance a second, or even first, thought, and wouldn't start to do so based on this human's cleanliness. Once Bela was out of immediate range, the vampire sat up and swung her legs around to the floor, planting her feet. A moment's dizziness gave her pause, but it passed and she was left staring into the dulled, listless eyes of the human.
There was something missing in those eyes. Some spark of will, of life and opinion. Jenica cocked her head as the woman raised the cloth and wiped at the vampire's face. Blood and dirt flaked on her legs and the floor. Another moment, and the raging hunger could stand no more. Her repaired hand rose, grabbed the woman's wrist, twisted the human around and continued pulling the arm up until she heard a pop. The woman's instant scream of pain was muffled by the vampire's other hand covering her mouth. Jenica enjoyed the woman's tugging struggles, her last attempts at life, before digging her fangs into the side of the woman's throat and ripping a chunk from the flesh. She spit this to the side, then placed her mouth over the wound, letting the blood run into her mouth and down her throat. She could feel the cleansing wash of it as it aided in the repairs of her body, and enjoyed the warm liquid's path down her esophagus and into her sore stomach. From there, it would spread.
But the woman was thin, and bled through within minutes. Jenica released her all at once, allowing the body to drop to the floor in a clumsy heap. The woman wasn't quite dead - there was the barest flicker of awareness in her eyes - and Jenica twisted her head to look down at the servant. The spark was still missing, but the woman's last moments of awareness centered on the creature perched on the couch, covered in dirt and old or new blood, torn and tattered...and uncaring. The girl had a name. He'd even used it. The vampire neither remembered nor cared to try. She was only human.
Jenica stood, a difficult and painful procedure, and started a hobbling limp from the couch, to at least inspect this one room. The woman's body bled out the rest of its contents onto the floor from its wrecked and unnatural position. Jenica ignored this, as she always did. Soon the woman's bowels would release, and rot would set in. The room would become most uninhabitable then. It was time to go.
She paused at the doorway, then leaned against the doorframe itself. Just the small effort of standing and walking to the archway left her worn. Again, her disappointment with the lack of servants returned - she could have gorged herself on them, regained some strength, but now she was limited to one petite girl. The blood would be burnt out by nightfall. She would have to wait until the others returned, and hunt them then.
She closed her eyes and sniffed. Above the increasing scent of decay from behind her, there was his scent, travelling along the entire mansion. The freshest moved due west. Her decision was made easier. Wherever he went, she would not.
She straightened and began a steady, measuring pace due east from him.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
The elder vampire heard Charlotte's capped scream from his room. Jenica couldn't hide the only sound in the house from him so easily, but he thought nothing of it. Nothing short of an absolute ruckus with the crashing of furniture, or perhaps Jenica's own screams, would have brought him back.
She had to quell the hunger if there was any hope of reaching the humanity... And if there was humanity left to be found in Jenica, any shred of it from which some higher forms of thought might grow, he would find it. He would find it if it meant tearing every piece of her apart and sifting through the mess. She was worthless as the creature he left in his living room. Completely, utterly, worthless. A child in every sense of the word; full of potential yet completely untapped.
He removed his boots and left them at the door. On a good day, he wouldn't bother to disrobe before sleeping - there was no need. But his shirt was ruined and his pants were a mess. He had to replace them all for a change...
And so he did. Coat, shirt and all were placed neatly on a chair in the room. His body was quite perfect, though pale well beyond normality. Musculature was there only for show, since all his strength was given to him through whatever magic made him what he was. Still, like so many things in his life, he liked it just so. Human, and attractive.
He dressed again before getting into bed, where he lay on his back and closed his eyes. He could feel the day coming and it sucked his energy away. Everything felt as though it turned into stone, and he was gone.
She had to quell the hunger if there was any hope of reaching the humanity... And if there was humanity left to be found in Jenica, any shred of it from which some higher forms of thought might grow, he would find it. He would find it if it meant tearing every piece of her apart and sifting through the mess. She was worthless as the creature he left in his living room. Completely, utterly, worthless. A child in every sense of the word; full of potential yet completely untapped.
He removed his boots and left them at the door. On a good day, he wouldn't bother to disrobe before sleeping - there was no need. But his shirt was ruined and his pants were a mess. He had to replace them all for a change...
And so he did. Coat, shirt and all were placed neatly on a chair in the room. His body was quite perfect, though pale well beyond normality. Musculature was there only for show, since all his strength was given to him through whatever magic made him what he was. Still, like so many things in his life, he liked it just so. Human, and attractive.
He dressed again before getting into bed, where he lay on his back and closed his eyes. He could feel the day coming and it sucked his energy away. Everything felt as though it turned into stone, and he was gone.
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
She used the wall as a brace for the first dozen meters, unable to keep her own balance, but with each step came a bit more steadiness and grace, and by the time she'd come into an open area from the hallway, she was able to stay upright without the wall's aide.
She didn't check into any of the other rooms she passed. They neither interested nor concerned her. She considered this a temporary situation, and she was searching for the most important features of the mansion - its exits. None of the human trappings and ornate trimmings caught her eye, though she couldn't help but take note of how upscale the entire manor was. He spared no expense, her sire. She mused that she must be an awful disappointment to him.
It didn't matter, either way. She would be gone once her wounds healed, and he would be left to clean the bloodstains she left behind. She would be cautious and patient, not push her luck. She didn't need to spend another several days healing new wounds. And she would work to remember just how vicious the attack was. Already, bits of it were sliding away, shifting to the background of her thoughts, and she understood that this was bad. She needed to remember what was said and done this night. What he'd asked her to do, what he'd said and how he'd said it. There was a speech, somewhere, but she couldn't call that back immediately despite her desire to do so. It was too far buried underneath the pain and confusion. But now, when she could turn all of her attention to this one thought...
She stopped walking and shifted her focus inside, grounding herself in the task until almost all of the conversation came to her. A promise, a gift, pretty words to make it all sound better than the reality. And then he mentioned a destiny. What could that mean? She wasn't a quick study, she wasn't clever and witty. It took her a while to make connections and fit the pieces together. Time passed, as she stood idle and seemingly vacant, a dead and bloody statue. Destiny...meant a plan...which meant...he'd created her for his plan...which meant he'd created her only to satisfy this plan of his.
So what was the plan?
She rose from her thoughts with this plaguing her. What did he expect of her? Did he want her all prissy and neat, a clean little lordling to show off and share kills with? The finery surrounding her spoke otherwise. There was no way to find out his ultimate goal, but to follow along, to tag behind and be obedient until she carried out his wishes.
She started forward again, a methodical, thoughtful pace. She wouldn't stay to find out. Her curiosity had died over a year ago. She rarely found pleasure in anything but the kill itself, the games she created with the limp and ragdoll corpses she created. Another part of his speech returned. He'd said she had a choice. To continue on, or die. A permanent death.
She stopped and looked toward one of the canopied windows, blocking out the sun. Unlike her sire, she was often awake during daylight hours. If her body had any natural instincts to quiet down or rest when the sun rose, she had squelched them ages ago. Now she eyed the drapes and gave a moment's thought to flinging them open and enjoying one last day. But she wouldn't allow her body to die - not again. Instead, she would continue taking out her hate on it, pushing it to its limits and demanding more without the least bit of mercy.
She shuttered her eyes and continued forward, ever seeking the doorway. The manor was large, larger than any human dwelling she'd ever been inside of. She felt herself losing her way. At least hunting servants would've given her a goal...and most likely the way out. She'd learned they tended to run for the exits when threatened.
Time passes...
It had taken her half the day, in the end. She was disoriented, and worse, slow-moving. She had to pause and rest every so often, let the simmering discomfort in her abdomen subside, before starting forward again. Ever forward, with vague memories of her own family's home giving her a basis for her decisions.
The manor sprawled into two directions, splitting off from a main entryway. It was the largest entryway she'd ever seen, which a staircase that split off into and East and West wing. And now, straight ahead, sat the double doors which served as the entrance. They was hard to miss, since they were almost as tall as the walls that housed them.
Jenica paused, staring at them, and the desire to leave welled up until it nearly overflowed from within. She wanted to walk outside, feel the breeze on her face for moment, and then run, as fast and far as she could...but she was still too slow, too injured to try. And the midday sun would be a force to take heed of.
Content with having found the major exit, and at a loss for what to do next, she sat next to the staircase and leaned on the banister. She wondered if they staff had their own door, or if they came through this entrance. If they returned before Bela awoke, she would finally have a new game on her hands.
Content to wait, she closed her eyes and sank within her own dull, thumping thoughts. She would remain just so throughout the rest of the day, but as soon as night fell, if she was left undisturbed...
Hours passed. The sunlight crawled across the ground, and then slowly sank below the earth's horizon. She opened her eyes, taking in the general sense of darkness that now crowded her senses. Night had fallen.
She shifted, eased to her feet, staring at the double doors. No sound, no tick of shoes or ladies' wear - she remained alone, or the servants were elsewhere. But the door stood, there, just ahead...and she was alone.
She was on it before the thought formed, pulling it open and savoring the moment of night's breeze against her face. That was enough; she needed to be outside, among the leaves and trees. This manor was a cage to her - a large, posh cage, full of human trimmings that felt as foreign as another culture to her. She was base instinct, now, guided by nothing but her need to be out, not within.
Outside, and farther, and farther still. The dirt and gravel crackled underneath her. She paid them no heed.
She didn't check into any of the other rooms she passed. They neither interested nor concerned her. She considered this a temporary situation, and she was searching for the most important features of the mansion - its exits. None of the human trappings and ornate trimmings caught her eye, though she couldn't help but take note of how upscale the entire manor was. He spared no expense, her sire. She mused that she must be an awful disappointment to him.
It didn't matter, either way. She would be gone once her wounds healed, and he would be left to clean the bloodstains she left behind. She would be cautious and patient, not push her luck. She didn't need to spend another several days healing new wounds. And she would work to remember just how vicious the attack was. Already, bits of it were sliding away, shifting to the background of her thoughts, and she understood that this was bad. She needed to remember what was said and done this night. What he'd asked her to do, what he'd said and how he'd said it. There was a speech, somewhere, but she couldn't call that back immediately despite her desire to do so. It was too far buried underneath the pain and confusion. But now, when she could turn all of her attention to this one thought...
She stopped walking and shifted her focus inside, grounding herself in the task until almost all of the conversation came to her. A promise, a gift, pretty words to make it all sound better than the reality. And then he mentioned a destiny. What could that mean? She wasn't a quick study, she wasn't clever and witty. It took her a while to make connections and fit the pieces together. Time passed, as she stood idle and seemingly vacant, a dead and bloody statue. Destiny...meant a plan...which meant...he'd created her for his plan...which meant he'd created her only to satisfy this plan of his.
So what was the plan?
She rose from her thoughts with this plaguing her. What did he expect of her? Did he want her all prissy and neat, a clean little lordling to show off and share kills with? The finery surrounding her spoke otherwise. There was no way to find out his ultimate goal, but to follow along, to tag behind and be obedient until she carried out his wishes.
She started forward again, a methodical, thoughtful pace. She wouldn't stay to find out. Her curiosity had died over a year ago. She rarely found pleasure in anything but the kill itself, the games she created with the limp and ragdoll corpses she created. Another part of his speech returned. He'd said she had a choice. To continue on, or die. A permanent death.
She stopped and looked toward one of the canopied windows, blocking out the sun. Unlike her sire, she was often awake during daylight hours. If her body had any natural instincts to quiet down or rest when the sun rose, she had squelched them ages ago. Now she eyed the drapes and gave a moment's thought to flinging them open and enjoying one last day. But she wouldn't allow her body to die - not again. Instead, she would continue taking out her hate on it, pushing it to its limits and demanding more without the least bit of mercy.
She shuttered her eyes and continued forward, ever seeking the doorway. The manor was large, larger than any human dwelling she'd ever been inside of. She felt herself losing her way. At least hunting servants would've given her a goal...and most likely the way out. She'd learned they tended to run for the exits when threatened.
Time passes...
It had taken her half the day, in the end. She was disoriented, and worse, slow-moving. She had to pause and rest every so often, let the simmering discomfort in her abdomen subside, before starting forward again. Ever forward, with vague memories of her own family's home giving her a basis for her decisions.
The manor sprawled into two directions, splitting off from a main entryway. It was the largest entryway she'd ever seen, which a staircase that split off into and East and West wing. And now, straight ahead, sat the double doors which served as the entrance. They was hard to miss, since they were almost as tall as the walls that housed them.
Jenica paused, staring at them, and the desire to leave welled up until it nearly overflowed from within. She wanted to walk outside, feel the breeze on her face for moment, and then run, as fast and far as she could...but she was still too slow, too injured to try. And the midday sun would be a force to take heed of.
Content with having found the major exit, and at a loss for what to do next, she sat next to the staircase and leaned on the banister. She wondered if they staff had their own door, or if they came through this entrance. If they returned before Bela awoke, she would finally have a new game on her hands.
Content to wait, she closed her eyes and sank within her own dull, thumping thoughts. She would remain just so throughout the rest of the day, but as soon as night fell, if she was left undisturbed...
Hours passed. The sunlight crawled across the ground, and then slowly sank below the earth's horizon. She opened her eyes, taking in the general sense of darkness that now crowded her senses. Night had fallen.
She shifted, eased to her feet, staring at the double doors. No sound, no tick of shoes or ladies' wear - she remained alone, or the servants were elsewhere. But the door stood, there, just ahead...and she was alone.
She was on it before the thought formed, pulling it open and savoring the moment of night's breeze against her face. That was enough; she needed to be outside, among the leaves and trees. This manor was a cage to her - a large, posh cage, full of human trimmings that felt as foreign as another culture to her. She was base instinct, now, guided by nothing but her need to be out, not within.
Outside, and farther, and farther still. The dirt and gravel crackled underneath her. She paid them no heed.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
Bela was up shortly after sunset, only minutes behind his daughter. Aging did have an effect on him. Every year his sleep was deeper. Every year he hated light more and more. Every year he slid deeper into the shadows. He didn't know where it would end, if it would end. Feeding often helped, but he refused to slaughter his own citizens out of fear that it could cause a rebellion... And fear that he might run out of food.
As soon as he was out of bed he knew Jenica was no longer in the manor. Her smell was gone and all that remained was the lingering aroma of dried blood. He could feel her not far away, but too far already. She was already trying to leave again. Things were worse off than he had anticipated.
Swiftly he made for the doors, was there in a matter of seconds, and threw them open so hard they nearly broke. He was off at a sprinting pace, though barely using any effort to glide across the ground, and the doors shut themselves. His speed gradually increased, following the road and his instinctual knowledge of her position, and soon he was within a few hundred yards.
She was moving slowly, almost as if she wasn't trying to run from him. His abilities let him catch up so quickly. Perhaps she was only trying to assert her freedom. Wishful thinking, but quite possible. He held back his fury and slowed his pace to match hers. She would know he was close, and if she wanted to run... now was the time.
As soon as he was out of bed he knew Jenica was no longer in the manor. Her smell was gone and all that remained was the lingering aroma of dried blood. He could feel her not far away, but too far already. She was already trying to leave again. Things were worse off than he had anticipated.
Swiftly he made for the doors, was there in a matter of seconds, and threw them open so hard they nearly broke. He was off at a sprinting pace, though barely using any effort to glide across the ground, and the doors shut themselves. His speed gradually increased, following the road and his instinctual knowledge of her position, and soon he was within a few hundred yards.
She was moving slowly, almost as if she wasn't trying to run from him. His abilities let him catch up so quickly. Perhaps she was only trying to assert her freedom. Wishful thinking, but quite possible. He held back his fury and slowed his pace to match hers. She would know he was close, and if she wanted to run... now was the time.
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Outside and liberated, the desperation dulled into a minor ache for the simplicities of outside. The night's air blew against her stiffened clothes and hair, both covered in a layer of hardened blood. The air itself felt wonderful to her; the scents of outside, of nature. She couldn't have known, before, how she enjoyed the outdoors, until they were taken away from her. But he didn't want her outside; he wanted her chained inside, a lapdog which served his whims and waited for him to come home without a thought for anything else.
She wasn't a great thinker, but she knew that she didn't want to be his pet.
She felt him, closing in on her. Her walk was steady and slow, more of a stroll. Once she'd reached the woods, she would be content to wander without a purpose or goal. If it happened to take her farther from the mansion, so be it. But she didn't think he wanted her anywhere near the woods, their wildness and lack of humanity.
She slowed and stopped, staring ahead at the forest, still some span of ground away. His mansion was separate, isolated, even from the local nature. It bothered her. She couldn't wait to be fully healed and leave this place.
But not right now, not yet. She wasn't fast enough. She wasn't healed enough. She could still feel her organs shifting, mending. Already she felt the craving building for more blood; the thin servant's had lasted mere hours. And he was here, behind her. Not feet away, not yet, but soon. There was no point to try. He was too close to duck and cover.
She knelt on one knee, placed her right hand to the ground and dig her fingers into the earth. The night sounds steadied her; the quiet of the earth seeped into her pores. She called to the nearby shadows, and their gentle response gave her comfort. Home was never far away.
She took the silence of the earth and the calm of the surrounding land into herself. She would not run yet. She recited her mental mantra until it was all she could think, all she could focus on. She wasn't running. Not yet, not yet, not yet. Don't even think it, not a hint of those thoughts. Let him think...
I'm just out a for a night stroll. Is that so wrong?
She tilted her head in his direction. By this point he would be there, near or next to her, and wherever he stood, her head tilted that way. Listening. Motionless. She could stay here for hours, covered in dirt and grime, her hand even worse for the dirt she'd buried it in. She had no intention of moving, and she couldn't speak.
She wasn't a great thinker, but she knew that she didn't want to be his pet.
She felt him, closing in on her. Her walk was steady and slow, more of a stroll. Once she'd reached the woods, she would be content to wander without a purpose or goal. If it happened to take her farther from the mansion, so be it. But she didn't think he wanted her anywhere near the woods, their wildness and lack of humanity.
She slowed and stopped, staring ahead at the forest, still some span of ground away. His mansion was separate, isolated, even from the local nature. It bothered her. She couldn't wait to be fully healed and leave this place.
But not right now, not yet. She wasn't fast enough. She wasn't healed enough. She could still feel her organs shifting, mending. Already she felt the craving building for more blood; the thin servant's had lasted mere hours. And he was here, behind her. Not feet away, not yet, but soon. There was no point to try. He was too close to duck and cover.
She knelt on one knee, placed her right hand to the ground and dig her fingers into the earth. The night sounds steadied her; the quiet of the earth seeped into her pores. She called to the nearby shadows, and their gentle response gave her comfort. Home was never far away.
She took the silence of the earth and the calm of the surrounding land into herself. She would not run yet. She recited her mental mantra until it was all she could think, all she could focus on. She wasn't running. Not yet, not yet, not yet. Don't even think it, not a hint of those thoughts. Let him think...
I'm just out a for a night stroll. Is that so wrong?
She tilted her head in his direction. By this point he would be there, near or next to her, and wherever he stood, her head tilted that way. Listening. Motionless. She could stay here for hours, covered in dirt and grime, her hand even worse for the dirt she'd buried it in. She had no intention of moving, and she couldn't speak.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
He approached her at a walking pace, looking around at her surroundings but always sure to keep her in his peripheral vision. She appeared to be alone, and though he was far stronger than she was he had not lasted over two centuries by being careless. Especially not with one who had his blood in her veins. She was insane but not stupid. For all he knew she had friends waiting for him. He was not afraid, but he was observant.
Some dry leaves crumpling under his boots were the only sound coming from him until he was standing right beside her. The wind carried his hair wildly to the side, across his face. A lone bird was singing not far away, heedless of the fact that it was night.
He looked at her, through his hair, and didn't bother to pull it out of the way to speak.
"I know you still want to run, Jenica. I don't know what friends you have, or where you will run to, but you fear me and you want to be free."
He reached down to touch her hair. Filthy and more wild than his own, carefully and gently he smoothed it out, if she would let him.
"I am not your enemy. I am not here to imprison you, only teach you."
Some dry leaves crumpling under his boots were the only sound coming from him until he was standing right beside her. The wind carried his hair wildly to the side, across his face. A lone bird was singing not far away, heedless of the fact that it was night.
He looked at her, through his hair, and didn't bother to pull it out of the way to speak.
"I know you still want to run, Jenica. I don't know what friends you have, or where you will run to, but you fear me and you want to be free."
He reached down to touch her hair. Filthy and more wild than his own, carefully and gently he smoothed it out, if she would let him.
"I am not your enemy. I am not here to imprison you, only teach you."
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
She shuttered her eyes when his hand connected with her head, though she neither flinched nor twitched in reaction. He was gentle, calm. No sign of the rage she'd anticipated. She wondered if it was just a cover for his true temper, lying in wait underneath the skin. No way to tell.
She ground her fingers deeper into the dirt, curled them in, flexed the muscles and enjoyed the sense of grit rubbing across her flesh. She felt rancid and rotted inside, separated from her sire not by mere space, but by leaps and bounds of the mind. She couldn't relate to him on any level. She mused that they must make an interesting image - herself covered in muck and blood, clearly not something from civilized society. And him - she imagined, for she had yet to look - pristine and clean, human save for his pale features.
Foreign.
She clenched her fist in the dirt. He spoke as though he were a benefactor, as though he didn't seek to imprison, but educate, her. He couldn't understand that to one such as herself, feral, anything that limited her options or left her without choices was a prison. He couldn't see that his fine mansion, with its high walls, and his mere presence, far more powerful than she, was its own cage. She couldn't leave if he didn't wish her to.
Not yet.
His hand annoyed her, then, and she shook her head violently in an attempt to avoid his touch. She wasn't his pet or his child, and she didn't want him touching her. She remembered her flesh molding to his will.
He was too close, too intimate. She didn't like being so close to him, or anyone. She stood, then, uncomfortable, wanting to move. She stepped forward, away. Not wanting to leave, just wanting to be...away. But one step wasn't enough. And so she took another. And another. The woods, still farther ahead, sang to her, rejoiced in their disorganization and natural chaos. She stood hypnotized and drawn. And continued forward. The draw was too strong to ignore, though she knew she should stop moving, and soon...
She ground her fingers deeper into the dirt, curled them in, flexed the muscles and enjoyed the sense of grit rubbing across her flesh. She felt rancid and rotted inside, separated from her sire not by mere space, but by leaps and bounds of the mind. She couldn't relate to him on any level. She mused that they must make an interesting image - herself covered in muck and blood, clearly not something from civilized society. And him - she imagined, for she had yet to look - pristine and clean, human save for his pale features.
Foreign.
She clenched her fist in the dirt. He spoke as though he were a benefactor, as though he didn't seek to imprison, but educate, her. He couldn't understand that to one such as herself, feral, anything that limited her options or left her without choices was a prison. He couldn't see that his fine mansion, with its high walls, and his mere presence, far more powerful than she, was its own cage. She couldn't leave if he didn't wish her to.
Not yet.
His hand annoyed her, then, and she shook her head violently in an attempt to avoid his touch. She wasn't his pet or his child, and she didn't want him touching her. She remembered her flesh molding to his will.
He was too close, too intimate. She didn't like being so close to him, or anyone. She stood, then, uncomfortable, wanting to move. She stepped forward, away. Not wanting to leave, just wanting to be...away. But one step wasn't enough. And so she took another. And another. The woods, still farther ahead, sang to her, rejoiced in their disorganization and natural chaos. She stood hypnotized and drawn. And continued forward. The draw was too strong to ignore, though she knew she should stop moving, and soon...
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
Her hair was the worst of it, so filthy it wouldn't have been possible for him to comfortably run his fingers through it. Instead he stroked it with the back of his knuckles until she suddenly shook her head, and he withdrew. His taloned fingers recoiled and for an instant he looked surprised, though like a spark it was soon only an afterthought.
His hand went to his side again and she took her hand out of the dirt. Whatever she had it in there for, he didn't take much notice of the strange behavior.
Then, rather than try to communicate, she did the unthinkable. She kept her back to him and walked away. She didn't run. She didn't take any action other than to ignore him and leave, storming away like an angry child. It was worth a beating at the very least - death if he didn't want her alive. Curiously though he realized he had lost the taste for hurting her.
She was making a point by walking away and shrugging off his show of affection. He couldn't very well start ripping her to shreds again just for walking away. She was not just another servant.
For the first time in as many years as he could remember, he not only new not what to do, but knew that the solution was not forthcoming. He needed her, or he would have to kill her, and she wanted no part of him. He had to make her understand that she also needed him. All she wanted was the slaughter, but that slaughter begat senselessness.
He also felt strangely about the way she treated him. It was so very honest. Nobody had done that to him in centuries. He loved her, but would she ever love him, or anyone for that matter?
He took a gamble and decided to let her go. If she left Thar Shaddin he would have to go through much effort to track her down, but if she stayed she just might learn what had to be learned.
"Do not underestimate the mortals, Jenica. They will bite back."
His hand went to his side again and she took her hand out of the dirt. Whatever she had it in there for, he didn't take much notice of the strange behavior.
Then, rather than try to communicate, she did the unthinkable. She kept her back to him and walked away. She didn't run. She didn't take any action other than to ignore him and leave, storming away like an angry child. It was worth a beating at the very least - death if he didn't want her alive. Curiously though he realized he had lost the taste for hurting her.
She was making a point by walking away and shrugging off his show of affection. He couldn't very well start ripping her to shreds again just for walking away. She was not just another servant.
For the first time in as many years as he could remember, he not only new not what to do, but knew that the solution was not forthcoming. He needed her, or he would have to kill her, and she wanted no part of him. He had to make her understand that she also needed him. All she wanted was the slaughter, but that slaughter begat senselessness.
He also felt strangely about the way she treated him. It was so very honest. Nobody had done that to him in centuries. He loved her, but would she ever love him, or anyone for that matter?
He took a gamble and decided to let her go. If she left Thar Shaddin he would have to go through much effort to track her down, but if she stayed she just might learn what had to be learned.
"Do not underestimate the mortals, Jenica. They will bite back."