The blade was now pressing against her injured flesh. If it increased the pain, the vampire couldn't tell - there was so much pain already. A mere prick did nothing to sway her, or even cause fear.
The woman's voice sounded now, and it wasn't the pleading from earlier, oh no. Not so much as a tremble in this voice. But Jenica had chosen well - this human still had sympathy. She thought to make a pact with the vampire. Some sort of honor-bound promise to be nice, play with the other kids, and not rip her throat out. The vampire would accept...in a minute. Or two. Whenever her vision cleared, wouldn't that be just dandy?
Her body continued ignoring her mental demands, continued shutting down certain functions to focus energy on healing. In another moment, Jenica realized what was happening, and found herself displeased. Her body wasn't just rebelling, wasn't just taking her vision and upright mobility. No, even now, the black stars were multiplying and thickening across her vision into a solid wall. Now her fury at this Judas of a body doubled, for all the good it would serve.
She was passing out.
She fought it, pounding against the darkness closing over her. But it was much too late, and her entire physical form had thrown itself into the effort. Jenica's final thought was an idle, curious question: will I wake up?
The last words from the human's mouth were lost and useless, for by the time the human nudged her, the vampire was gone. With the pressure from the movement in her abdomen, her head dipped forward, unbalanced by the creature within, a dead weight. For all appearances, Jenica was a corpse. She didn't breathe; there were no sleeping movements, no twitches behind the eyelids or in the jawline to indicate dreams. Just a cold, hard, stillness.
An Inconsequential Arrival
Amira watched the vampire's head sag forward, and drew her foot back, frowning. So the beast wasn't going to cooperate; instead, she was going to try to play more games, and trick Amira into a compromising position. Well, that certainly wasn't going to happen. Amira had been fooled enough times for one night.
“Don't even try it. I-” Her voice caught as she eyed the vampire's motionless chest. She watched silently for several moments, her unease growing as she waited for the rise and fall of the rib cage, the expanding and contraction of the lungs within. No one could hold a breath in for that long. She dropped quickly to one knee, letting the sharp edge of her sword hover carefully over the vampire's abdomen as a cautionary measure. Her hands fluttered nervously over the cold throat, trying to detect a pulse, but the flesh might as well have been stone. There was no semblance of life there.
She was unexperienced with such things, but she couldn't imagine how any creature, even a vampire, could feign death in this way. Was it possible that her attacker was dead? But how? Surely not from a few abdominal wounds? For a moment, she considered pulling back the clothes that covered the gut in question and examining the injuries, but she quickly abandoned the notion. If the vampire really was dead, Amira had no desire to touch the corpse again, and if she wasn't...well, she would do well to exercise caution.
Her next thought was that she wanted the body out of her house. But what was she to do? Sling the corpse over her shoulder and carry it off? She'd avoid getting that beast, dead or no, so close to her flesh if she could help it. Anyway, where could she think to take the vampire? Who would dig a grave for a bloodsucker? Nor could she throw the monster out on the streets. Aside from her unwillingness to increase the area's stench index with a rotting corpse, if the vampire lived...which it didn't. It was definitely dead.
Still. It couldn't hurt to be safe. Smothering a grin – had she truly killed her attacker with no more than a kick, a few hits, and a nudge with her toe? -- she considered the body for a few more seconds, wiping her befouled toe against the back of her leggings. Momentarily, she moved to the corner opposite the vampire and sat down slowly, resting her sword across her knees. The vampire was dead, of course; nevertheless, she gripped the hilt tightly with her good hand. Resting her injured wrist on her thigh with a tiny complaining grunt, she leaned her head back, watching the vampire for a few moments before shuttering her eyes. She'd wake up in the morning, and the creature would still be dead. After some rest, she'd be able to deal with the situation. She told herself that the only reason she slept near the body and not in her bed was that she was too thoroughly and suddenly exhausted to walk across to her bedroom. She wasn't keeping watch on the corpse, she assured herself. It wasn't as though there were any way for the vampire to wake up. It was dead.
Surely, it had to be dead.
“Don't even try it. I-” Her voice caught as she eyed the vampire's motionless chest. She watched silently for several moments, her unease growing as she waited for the rise and fall of the rib cage, the expanding and contraction of the lungs within. No one could hold a breath in for that long. She dropped quickly to one knee, letting the sharp edge of her sword hover carefully over the vampire's abdomen as a cautionary measure. Her hands fluttered nervously over the cold throat, trying to detect a pulse, but the flesh might as well have been stone. There was no semblance of life there.
She was unexperienced with such things, but she couldn't imagine how any creature, even a vampire, could feign death in this way. Was it possible that her attacker was dead? But how? Surely not from a few abdominal wounds? For a moment, she considered pulling back the clothes that covered the gut in question and examining the injuries, but she quickly abandoned the notion. If the vampire really was dead, Amira had no desire to touch the corpse again, and if she wasn't...well, she would do well to exercise caution.
Her next thought was that she wanted the body out of her house. But what was she to do? Sling the corpse over her shoulder and carry it off? She'd avoid getting that beast, dead or no, so close to her flesh if she could help it. Anyway, where could she think to take the vampire? Who would dig a grave for a bloodsucker? Nor could she throw the monster out on the streets. Aside from her unwillingness to increase the area's stench index with a rotting corpse, if the vampire lived...which it didn't. It was definitely dead.
Still. It couldn't hurt to be safe. Smothering a grin – had she truly killed her attacker with no more than a kick, a few hits, and a nudge with her toe? -- she considered the body for a few more seconds, wiping her befouled toe against the back of her leggings. Momentarily, she moved to the corner opposite the vampire and sat down slowly, resting her sword across her knees. The vampire was dead, of course; nevertheless, she gripped the hilt tightly with her good hand. Resting her injured wrist on her thigh with a tiny complaining grunt, she leaned her head back, watching the vampire for a few moments before shuttering her eyes. She'd wake up in the morning, and the creature would still be dead. After some rest, she'd be able to deal with the situation. She told herself that the only reason she slept near the body and not in her bed was that she was too thoroughly and suddenly exhausted to walk across to her bedroom. She wasn't keeping watch on the corpse, she assured herself. It wasn't as though there were any way for the vampire to wake up. It was dead.
Surely, it had to be dead.
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Nary a twitch, nor a flinch. Nothing to indicate that the corpse now immobilized on the woman's floor was anything but a corpse. Jenica slept hard, her body all but dying in the interim as it desperately pulled all available resources to seal up the newly opened wound in the vampire's stomach. The only indication of life from the creature was the flesh sealing itself, but this was covered by the shirt she wore.
Internally, the vampire was so far into sleep that not even dreams could reach her. There was no tick, no amount of awareness that reached her. She slept deep and long, stationary in the solid blackness of her exhaustion.
It was at least four hours before the vampire began to waken. Although her body wanted nothing more than to continue resting, it had run out of what it needed: blood. If it used any more, the vampire's body would collapse.
Jenica was the type who awoke in phases. The first sense to return was always feeling - the weight of her body, inch by inch, the feel of the air around her, the eddies of air currents - or lack thereof. Then came hearing, distant at first, a slow building and systematic categorization of what she could hear.
She could hear the human's heartbeat, and the human's breathing. She could hear...
Then smell, and this took effort. A long, inhaling sniff which took in her own mixture of blood, and the human's overall scents. Jenica didn't care for separating human scent until it was necessary; usually, she identified the human as mortal, and continued on.
Now, sight. She opened her eyes, blinked once, twice, and realized that she could, indeed, see. She'd woken up - and this made her cautious. Had the human setup traps for the vampire? A quick glance around told her no. She was still alive; the human had let her live.
She couldn't help the twinge of disappointment that filtered through her thoughts. She shook it off, then, and pulled her legs up. Her abdomen still ached, but it was a dull ache, and reminded her of something from long ago. Something human. Something which only females felt.
She ignored the memory tugging at her attention, and stood. She was shaky, unsure of her footing until she found that she didn't sway. Her injuries had healed, to a degree. She felt that her diaphram and lungs were newly mended, that there were flesh connections where there'd been gapes and holes.
She wasn't fully healed, and wouldn't be for at least another week. But she was stronger than she'd been earlier. And so was her bloodlust. She would need to feed soon, before it became insanity. But first...
The human was sleeping, and Jenica always felt something of jealousy, watching a human sleep. She was always fascinated by the subtle muscle spasms and twitches that separated the living from the dead.
The vampire approached, quiet and cautious, and crouched before the human. She cocked her head, staring at the female's eyelids as they flickered, responding to the darting eyes beneath. She shifted until she was in nearly the same position as a cat might be, and watched the human sleep before her.
Internally, the vampire was so far into sleep that not even dreams could reach her. There was no tick, no amount of awareness that reached her. She slept deep and long, stationary in the solid blackness of her exhaustion.
It was at least four hours before the vampire began to waken. Although her body wanted nothing more than to continue resting, it had run out of what it needed: blood. If it used any more, the vampire's body would collapse.
Jenica was the type who awoke in phases. The first sense to return was always feeling - the weight of her body, inch by inch, the feel of the air around her, the eddies of air currents - or lack thereof. Then came hearing, distant at first, a slow building and systematic categorization of what she could hear.
She could hear the human's heartbeat, and the human's breathing. She could hear...
Then smell, and this took effort. A long, inhaling sniff which took in her own mixture of blood, and the human's overall scents. Jenica didn't care for separating human scent until it was necessary; usually, she identified the human as mortal, and continued on.
Now, sight. She opened her eyes, blinked once, twice, and realized that she could, indeed, see. She'd woken up - and this made her cautious. Had the human setup traps for the vampire? A quick glance around told her no. She was still alive; the human had let her live.
She couldn't help the twinge of disappointment that filtered through her thoughts. She shook it off, then, and pulled her legs up. Her abdomen still ached, but it was a dull ache, and reminded her of something from long ago. Something human. Something which only females felt.
She ignored the memory tugging at her attention, and stood. She was shaky, unsure of her footing until she found that she didn't sway. Her injuries had healed, to a degree. She felt that her diaphram and lungs were newly mended, that there were flesh connections where there'd been gapes and holes.
She wasn't fully healed, and wouldn't be for at least another week. But she was stronger than she'd been earlier. And so was her bloodlust. She would need to feed soon, before it became insanity. But first...
The human was sleeping, and Jenica always felt something of jealousy, watching a human sleep. She was always fascinated by the subtle muscle spasms and twitches that separated the living from the dead.
The vampire approached, quiet and cautious, and crouched before the human. She cocked her head, staring at the female's eyelids as they flickered, responding to the darting eyes beneath. She shifted until she was in nearly the same position as a cat might be, and watched the human sleep before her.
Amira dreamed – a normal dream, perhaps, rather than one that held her captive with its horrors, with the startling sensation of realism that pervaded despite its utterly surreal nature. No, this did not seem like one of those dreams, but she never could tell. Often, they started out pleasantly enough, before they took a turn for the much, much worse and held her there, leaving her more fatigued when she woke than when she had closed her eyes.
This dream, however, swam and dipped abstractly and peacefully, with no corners for beasts to lurk behind, no dark places for a hostile, twisted creature to hide. She sighed gently in her sleep, enjoying the thoughtlessness, the utter meaninglessness of the shapes and colors her exhausted mind formed. She hadn't had such a satisfying sleep in a long time, and probably wouldn't again for many days.
Her disappointment, then, was significant, as the dream slipped away and she felt her heavy eyelids struggle to drag themselves open.
Ah, she thought lethargically. The vampire wasn't dead, then. That was certainly unexpected.
It took only a moment before reasonable fear cut through drowsy stupidity, and Amira opened her mouth to scream. Her vocal cords must not have awakened with the rest of her, however, for all that came out was a dry, desperate rasp.
So this, reality, her refuge from the things that chased her in her mind, was where the nightmare would begin.
Yes, the irony was interesting and all, but the fact remained that there was a vampire in her kitchen who, despite the fact that she had been dead the last time Amira had checked, was definitely living, and was staring Amira straight in the face.
“How...?” she croaked, remembering rather belatedly to grip her sword. Still blinking in shock, she leaned her elbow against the wall, struggling to push herself up onto her feet. What idiot falls asleep in a corner with a vampire in the room?
This dream, however, swam and dipped abstractly and peacefully, with no corners for beasts to lurk behind, no dark places for a hostile, twisted creature to hide. She sighed gently in her sleep, enjoying the thoughtlessness, the utter meaninglessness of the shapes and colors her exhausted mind formed. She hadn't had such a satisfying sleep in a long time, and probably wouldn't again for many days.
Her disappointment, then, was significant, as the dream slipped away and she felt her heavy eyelids struggle to drag themselves open.
Ah, she thought lethargically. The vampire wasn't dead, then. That was certainly unexpected.
It took only a moment before reasonable fear cut through drowsy stupidity, and Amira opened her mouth to scream. Her vocal cords must not have awakened with the rest of her, however, for all that came out was a dry, desperate rasp.
So this, reality, her refuge from the things that chased her in her mind, was where the nightmare would begin.
Yes, the irony was interesting and all, but the fact remained that there was a vampire in her kitchen who, despite the fact that she had been dead the last time Amira had checked, was definitely living, and was staring Amira straight in the face.
“How...?” she croaked, remembering rather belatedly to grip her sword. Still blinking in shock, she leaned her elbow against the wall, struggling to push herself up onto her feet. What idiot falls asleep in a corner with a vampire in the room?
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
The human was a slow waker, like Jenica. She couldn't fault the female for that. She saw the moment when awareness and logic flashed into the human's eyes, the moment the human realized the impossibility crouching before her.
The vampire moved nothing save her head, to flash her gaze to the human's fumbling hands and elbows, then back to the human's face. Then, of course, the human's brain reached full function, and she gave in to the most persistent question Jenica had ever encountered.
The vampire considered not responding. Her throat still ached, after all, and she wasn't one for talking. But for the moment, she didn't want to kill the human, and the human's questions wouldn't stop until she felt satisfied with the answer.
Besides, Jenica wanted to know just how healed her internal abdomen was.
The vampire shifted her position, then made the effort to inhale - something which she neglected to do otherwise. She narrowed her eyes at the sudden sharp pains from inside, but the organs held, performed their functions properly, if under protest. She could speak, then. But very little.
"This corpse is dead."
Her voice was soft and careful, scraping over her sore throat and just loud enough to be heard. She cocked her head again, staring at the human and waiting for any additional comments or questions. Slowly, she tilted her head to take in the sword itself, still in the human's possession, and then looked back at the human's face.
"Don't."
The vampire moved nothing save her head, to flash her gaze to the human's fumbling hands and elbows, then back to the human's face. Then, of course, the human's brain reached full function, and she gave in to the most persistent question Jenica had ever encountered.
The vampire considered not responding. Her throat still ached, after all, and she wasn't one for talking. But for the moment, she didn't want to kill the human, and the human's questions wouldn't stop until she felt satisfied with the answer.
Besides, Jenica wanted to know just how healed her internal abdomen was.
The vampire shifted her position, then made the effort to inhale - something which she neglected to do otherwise. She narrowed her eyes at the sudden sharp pains from inside, but the organs held, performed their functions properly, if under protest. She could speak, then. But very little.
"This corpse is dead."
Her voice was soft and careful, scraping over her sore throat and just loud enough to be heard. She cocked her head again, staring at the human and waiting for any additional comments or questions. Slowly, she tilted her head to take in the sword itself, still in the human's possession, and then looked back at the human's face.
"Don't."
Amira stopped, pulling her elbow away from the wall and dropping back into a sitting position. That was a relief; even the pressure on her elbow was making her wrist throb. She ought to have done something about that before dozing off.
Of course, it didn't much matter, seeing as she was trapped against a wall with a vampire in her face. Again. Sooner or later, one of them was going to have to give up, and from the looks of the current situation, Amira had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be the vampire. She was dead, if Amira had understood correctly.
That made no sense. She breathed, she moved, she even spoke, if rarely. But then, Amira had already come to the conclusion that she knew very little about basically everything – why not add this to the list?
“Fine,” she muttered, finally meeting the vampire's eyes. “I won't, then. But..." The least she could do was stall for time, and she had to admit she was curious. “If you're dead, then, why...” She waved her injured hand vaguely, then winced, pulling it back to cradle it against her chest and clearing her groggy throat. “Why?” she repeated, not really knowing how to phrase the question. She doubted she even knew what she was trying to ask. Why are you talking, moving, breathing? Why are you trying to feed on me? Why do you bleed? They all sounded horribly idiotic, even to her. But then, the stupid, feeble “why” probably wasn't any better.
Of course, it didn't much matter, seeing as she was trapped against a wall with a vampire in her face. Again. Sooner or later, one of them was going to have to give up, and from the looks of the current situation, Amira had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be the vampire. She was dead, if Amira had understood correctly.
That made no sense. She breathed, she moved, she even spoke, if rarely. But then, Amira had already come to the conclusion that she knew very little about basically everything – why not add this to the list?
“Fine,” she muttered, finally meeting the vampire's eyes. “I won't, then. But..." The least she could do was stall for time, and she had to admit she was curious. “If you're dead, then, why...” She waved her injured hand vaguely, then winced, pulling it back to cradle it against her chest and clearing her groggy throat. “Why?” she repeated, not really knowing how to phrase the question. She doubted she even knew what she was trying to ask. Why are you talking, moving, breathing? Why are you trying to feed on me? Why do you bleed? They all sounded horribly idiotic, even to her. But then, the stupid, feeble “why” probably wasn't any better.
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
A long silence followed the human's question, as Jenica didn't find the question worth answering. This human was likely just trying to stall as it was, which was an interesting tactic for such a slow, deliberate creature as Jenica. She wasn't a dart around type of predator; she moved quickly when needed, but otherwise liked to remain seen, perceived. It was a small way of feeling real.
The vampire sniffed the air as the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck began to tingle. Something large and unstoppable was moving ever closer, and the vampire had forgotten how close it stood. She turned her head to the side, as though listening to a noise over her shoulder, and perhaps she could hear the obscene noise of thousands of shadows meeting their deaths.
It was an old sound, but it never comforted the vampire. It meant that the sun was coming.
The vampire turned her eyes back to the human, lying on the floor before her. She shuttered her eyes as the realization that she was trapped within this building, with an armed human, washed through her. In another moment, she stood, towering above the mortal. She could kill the human, and use the corpse to feed...but the human had no killed her.
Honor was lost on the vampire. She did not remember the sensation of debts, or feeling as though another had bestowed some kind act. She hadn't had a travelling companion in well over a year, and her own sire was far too haughty and civilized for her to consider as counsel.
But she understood that this creature had, at a point, made a conscious decision to leave her be. At best, in her position, Jenica would have driven the sword hilt-deep in such a threat's chest, if only to be sure it was immobilized should it wake. This female had not. Jenica felt that she...owed?...the same courtesy.
And so, she stepped back, and away, giving the human space to rise if she so chose. The vampire looked toward the panes of the kitchen door, even now wincing as the sunrise began to illuminate the outer world. She looked back at the human, wondering if the female realized the she'd earned herself a house guest for the day.
The vampire sniffed the air as the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck began to tingle. Something large and unstoppable was moving ever closer, and the vampire had forgotten how close it stood. She turned her head to the side, as though listening to a noise over her shoulder, and perhaps she could hear the obscene noise of thousands of shadows meeting their deaths.
It was an old sound, but it never comforted the vampire. It meant that the sun was coming.
The vampire turned her eyes back to the human, lying on the floor before her. She shuttered her eyes as the realization that she was trapped within this building, with an armed human, washed through her. In another moment, she stood, towering above the mortal. She could kill the human, and use the corpse to feed...but the human had no killed her.
Honor was lost on the vampire. She did not remember the sensation of debts, or feeling as though another had bestowed some kind act. She hadn't had a travelling companion in well over a year, and her own sire was far too haughty and civilized for her to consider as counsel.
But she understood that this creature had, at a point, made a conscious decision to leave her be. At best, in her position, Jenica would have driven the sword hilt-deep in such a threat's chest, if only to be sure it was immobilized should it wake. This female had not. Jenica felt that she...owed?...the same courtesy.
And so, she stepped back, and away, giving the human space to rise if she so chose. The vampire looked toward the panes of the kitchen door, even now wincing as the sunrise began to illuminate the outer world. She looked back at the human, wondering if the female realized the she'd earned herself a house guest for the day.
Amira hadn't much expected an answer. It hadn't been a real question to begin with, had it? She was surprised, however to see the vampire pause, sniffing at the air. Smelling Amira's blood, perhaps? As the vampire rose to her feet, Amira shrank, pressing her back against the wall as if she could sink into it and escape.
Perhaps the greatest surprise she'd encountered with this vampire – stranger than the corpse-like state, the way she had toyed with Amira all night long, even the self-mutilation – came when the vampire stepped back, giving Amira ample room to stand.
Her eyes followed the vampire's to the windowpanes, then flicked back to the vampire's face. “Is something the matter?” she murmured, though her voice was less than solicitous. Rather, it creaked out in a mixture of fear and uncertainty: what was the vampire planning?
Nevertheless, she again struggled to stand, pushing her elbow against the wall for leverage. Even that pressure against her arm made her wrist twinge, and she clenched her teeth against the pain, pressing the tip of her sword against the ground for balance. Once on her feet, she stretched slowly, still carefully watching the vampire's face.
Amira was an absolute mess. Dry blood – the vampire's blood – caked her face; she felt some crumble under her fingers as she moved to touch the tender bruise on her cheek. Much of her hair was plastered to her face by sweat, tears, and, of course, blood; more blood dried on her leggings and sleeve where she'd cleaned her sword, and over the shallow cut in her hand. She was sure she reeked, and she certainly wasn't comfortable.
But she was alive, for now, and she couldn't figure out why.
Perhaps the greatest surprise she'd encountered with this vampire – stranger than the corpse-like state, the way she had toyed with Amira all night long, even the self-mutilation – came when the vampire stepped back, giving Amira ample room to stand.
Her eyes followed the vampire's to the windowpanes, then flicked back to the vampire's face. “Is something the matter?” she murmured, though her voice was less than solicitous. Rather, it creaked out in a mixture of fear and uncertainty: what was the vampire planning?
Nevertheless, she again struggled to stand, pushing her elbow against the wall for leverage. Even that pressure against her arm made her wrist twinge, and she clenched her teeth against the pain, pressing the tip of her sword against the ground for balance. Once on her feet, she stretched slowly, still carefully watching the vampire's face.
Amira was an absolute mess. Dry blood – the vampire's blood – caked her face; she felt some crumble under her fingers as she moved to touch the tender bruise on her cheek. Much of her hair was plastered to her face by sweat, tears, and, of course, blood; more blood dried on her leggings and sleeve where she'd cleaned her sword, and over the shallow cut in her hand. She was sure she reeked, and she certainly wasn't comfortable.
But she was alive, for now, and she couldn't figure out why.
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Once again, the human asked a question which hung unanswered and uncared for in the air. As the sunrise began, and the world brightened, moment by moment, Jenica moved back, further into the shadowed corner of the room. It wasn't bright yet, and the vampire had spent a few years building a resistance to the pain which light caused, but she didn't want to incur any more wrath from her body. Better safe than unconscious. Again.
The smell of blood on the woman's body, and the sound of her own healthy heart pumping away each second...the vampire would have a hard time resisting her more primal urges. But she had decided not to kill the female, this day...a sort of quiet truce. A fight in the daylight was much too dangerous; one misstep, and the human's physical presence wouldn't matter. The sun would make itself known.
The smell alone would drive her mad, though. If she was to leave this human unkilled, the human needed to clean the gore off. Jenica narrowed her eyes, staring at the human and wondering how to make her wash herself off. The vampire didn't care for tact, but she suspected that telling the human that she might be ripped apart just for standing soaked in the vampire's own blood...
"Clean yourself."
The smell of blood on the woman's body, and the sound of her own healthy heart pumping away each second...the vampire would have a hard time resisting her more primal urges. But she had decided not to kill the female, this day...a sort of quiet truce. A fight in the daylight was much too dangerous; one misstep, and the human's physical presence wouldn't matter. The sun would make itself known.
The smell alone would drive her mad, though. If she was to leave this human unkilled, the human needed to clean the gore off. Jenica narrowed her eyes, staring at the human and wondering how to make her wash herself off. The vampire didn't care for tact, but she suspected that telling the human that she might be ripped apart just for standing soaked in the vampire's own blood...
"Clean yourself."
Amira wasn't sure whether to thank the vampire for the kindness or to act resentful at the command. What right did she have to order Amira around? Nevertheless, it was senseless to argue for principle's sake when cleanliness was foremost in her mind. She nodded curtly and exited the kitchen at a hurried pace, halfheartedly wielding her sword in front of her.
Soon – but not nearly soon enough – she relaxed into a warm bath, her bloodstained clothes laying in a heap on the floor with the crimson-tinged rags she'd used to wipe her face clean. Leaning her head back, she slowly flexed her fingers under the water, wincing as the half-crushed muscles protested the movement, and as the slice in her palm cracked open slightly. She ached as she hadn't ached since she'd disembarked from the ship that had taken her to this godsforsaken continent. She stretched her legs, yearning for her muscles to relax in the hot water, but she was far too tense, her body still keenly aware of the threat in the other room.
Gradually, she lowered her hair into the bath, watching blankly as the water turned slowly pink. Could the filth she was purging from her skin really be the vampire's idea of a meal? The thought was repulsive. There was something to be said for fruit and vegetables.
Beyond that, the vampire's actions confused her. All night, the creature had pursued Amira as a meal, only to let her live just when the perfect chance to slaughter her arose. The last Amira had seen her, the vampire had been retreating into a corner, hiding in the shadows instead of leaping at Amira's throat. It made no sense.
The sunlight from the bathroom window reflected off the water's surface and onto Amira's face, giving her skin a pink cast. Pink from the vampire's blood, diluted, swimming around her.
She climbed out and drained the bath, then pulled a towel off the wall and wrapped it around herself. Slowly, she made her way into the bedroom and checked briefly under the bed for her sword, which she'd tucked away there. With her uninjured hand, she yanked open a drawer and fumbled for an article of lesser expense, finally pulling out an old shirt that didn't fit her well. She sat on the bed, set the shirt down on the cover, and placed her right forearm on the fabric. Slowly, methodically, she started to tear the cloth with her left hand, the uninjured one.
After a few moments, the shirt was reduced to long, broad strips of fabric. She began to wind them around her wrist and hand, tight enough to hold the sliced palm shut and to keep the injured wrist and fingers immobile. She was tired of wincing every time she moved her sword arm. She took her time; the vampire could wait. Amira had been an nice, obedient little human this morning, but she wasn't inclined to hurry for the monster's sake.
Finished, she eyed the hand critically. It was a shoddy job; she'd never have a career in healing, that much was certain, and the shirt fabric, though soft, was not ideal as a bandage. But it would do, for now. She leaned over and reopened the drawer, pulled out a few articles of clothing, and dressed far more slowly than was really necessary. She was stalling even now. What was she supposed to do? Throw on her clothes and skip back into the kitchen for a nice, cheery chat with a dark, fanged monster? Thank you, but no.
Presently, she leaned over and pulled her sword out from under her bed with her uninjured hand. After some consideration, she returned to the bathroom and retrieved her scabbard. She'd be prepared, but she certainly wasn't going to carry the sword around all day if she didn't have to. Sheathing the sword, she made her wary way back to the kitchen.
She didn't suppose the vampire could have gotten bored and trotted off. She doubted she'd be that lucky.
Soon – but not nearly soon enough – she relaxed into a warm bath, her bloodstained clothes laying in a heap on the floor with the crimson-tinged rags she'd used to wipe her face clean. Leaning her head back, she slowly flexed her fingers under the water, wincing as the half-crushed muscles protested the movement, and as the slice in her palm cracked open slightly. She ached as she hadn't ached since she'd disembarked from the ship that had taken her to this godsforsaken continent. She stretched her legs, yearning for her muscles to relax in the hot water, but she was far too tense, her body still keenly aware of the threat in the other room.
Gradually, she lowered her hair into the bath, watching blankly as the water turned slowly pink. Could the filth she was purging from her skin really be the vampire's idea of a meal? The thought was repulsive. There was something to be said for fruit and vegetables.
Beyond that, the vampire's actions confused her. All night, the creature had pursued Amira as a meal, only to let her live just when the perfect chance to slaughter her arose. The last Amira had seen her, the vampire had been retreating into a corner, hiding in the shadows instead of leaping at Amira's throat. It made no sense.
The sunlight from the bathroom window reflected off the water's surface and onto Amira's face, giving her skin a pink cast. Pink from the vampire's blood, diluted, swimming around her.
She climbed out and drained the bath, then pulled a towel off the wall and wrapped it around herself. Slowly, she made her way into the bedroom and checked briefly under the bed for her sword, which she'd tucked away there. With her uninjured hand, she yanked open a drawer and fumbled for an article of lesser expense, finally pulling out an old shirt that didn't fit her well. She sat on the bed, set the shirt down on the cover, and placed her right forearm on the fabric. Slowly, methodically, she started to tear the cloth with her left hand, the uninjured one.
After a few moments, the shirt was reduced to long, broad strips of fabric. She began to wind them around her wrist and hand, tight enough to hold the sliced palm shut and to keep the injured wrist and fingers immobile. She was tired of wincing every time she moved her sword arm. She took her time; the vampire could wait. Amira had been an nice, obedient little human this morning, but she wasn't inclined to hurry for the monster's sake.
Finished, she eyed the hand critically. It was a shoddy job; she'd never have a career in healing, that much was certain, and the shirt fabric, though soft, was not ideal as a bandage. But it would do, for now. She leaned over and reopened the drawer, pulled out a few articles of clothing, and dressed far more slowly than was really necessary. She was stalling even now. What was she supposed to do? Throw on her clothes and skip back into the kitchen for a nice, cheery chat with a dark, fanged monster? Thank you, but no.
Presently, she leaned over and pulled her sword out from under her bed with her uninjured hand. After some consideration, she returned to the bathroom and retrieved her scabbard. She'd be prepared, but she certainly wasn't going to carry the sword around all day if she didn't have to. Sheathing the sword, she made her wary way back to the kitchen.
She didn't suppose the vampire could have gotten bored and trotted off. She doubted she'd be that lucky.
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
The vampire leaned against the wall as the human exited the kitchen, leaving behind the fading scent of blood, but at least relieving the vampire of the more powerful scent of her physical presence. Jenica could feel the hunger thumping in her abdomen, the craving itself building by the second. She hadn't had a proper meal the night before, and tonight she had to feed, or she would lose herself completely within the power of the hunger itself.
It was a living creature, dwelling within her belly. She offered it sustenance to keep it calm, docile, quiet...for although Jenica had a twisted version of games, once the hunger claimed her senses she was merciless and brutal, blood splattering, skin pulled away from the flesh to expose the muscle beneath, ripe for the tear...
Jenica shuttered her eyes and sank within herself, a conscious effort to control the urges rising up behind her. She listened to sounds of water flowing from the human's living quarters, and steadied herself with the gentle drip and rustle of water on water.
The sun continued its domination of the sky, and Jenica resented her choice to follow this human within the city. Out in the wilderness, among the trees and rocks, there were shadows covering the ground, and Jenica had little trouble moving about during the day. But in this city, with its organized buildings and lack of canopied tops, she was trapped where she had settled at the end of the night, limited in options and hating every moment which passed.
Never again, she told herself. She would forever more stay in the woods, and attack travelers who braved the forest, steal their clothes and weapons and never again step foot in this cursed city.
On and on her brain ticked, a steady pulsing which distracted her from the ever-present writhing in her stomach. She distantly heard the human returning, and began the slow ascent to full awareness. By the time the human entered the kitchen once more, Jenica had opened her eyes, and would be watching the female with a lazy, blank stare.
It was a living creature, dwelling within her belly. She offered it sustenance to keep it calm, docile, quiet...for although Jenica had a twisted version of games, once the hunger claimed her senses she was merciless and brutal, blood splattering, skin pulled away from the flesh to expose the muscle beneath, ripe for the tear...
Jenica shuttered her eyes and sank within herself, a conscious effort to control the urges rising up behind her. She listened to sounds of water flowing from the human's living quarters, and steadied herself with the gentle drip and rustle of water on water.
The sun continued its domination of the sky, and Jenica resented her choice to follow this human within the city. Out in the wilderness, among the trees and rocks, there were shadows covering the ground, and Jenica had little trouble moving about during the day. But in this city, with its organized buildings and lack of canopied tops, she was trapped where she had settled at the end of the night, limited in options and hating every moment which passed.
Never again, she told herself. She would forever more stay in the woods, and attack travelers who braved the forest, steal their clothes and weapons and never again step foot in this cursed city.
On and on her brain ticked, a steady pulsing which distracted her from the ever-present writhing in her stomach. She distantly heard the human returning, and began the slow ascent to full awareness. By the time the human entered the kitchen once more, Jenica had opened her eyes, and would be watching the female with a lazy, blank stare.
Amira gazed back at the vampire, sifting her fingers through her damp hair. “Still here, then,” she murmured; whether to herself or to the vampire, she didn't know. She moved to the corner opposite the one in which the vampire stood, leaning against the door to the pantry. Her sword hand, useless as it was, wandered unconsciously to the hilt as she eyed the vampire warily.
She didn't know what kept the other female there, what change in circumstances had made her retreat into the corner. Nor did she know if it was a matter of will or of necessity, and that made her cautious. So much of what the vampire had done thus far had been different from what it seemed, and, in many cases, manipulative.
Yes, yes, she got the point. Don't trust the vampire. Constantly reminding herself of that did her no good. What was she going to do about it?
For now? Nothing. “As entertaining as this is, I'm starving. I don't suppose vampires eat breakfast?” Her bandaged hand twitched reflexively at the unfortunate wording. “Food, that is. Not...” She cleared her throat. “Well, you know what I mean.”
Ah, small talk. That was sure to win the bloodthirsty monster over. A perfect plan. Amira, she mused, you're a real idiot.
The smartest thing to do, of course, would be to run. Burst out the door, scream, find help, get a guard to drag the monster our of her house. Yet, for now at least, the vampire wasn't jumping at her throat, and she didn't particularly want to do anything to jeopardize the precarious situation, temporary as it might be. Besides which, she certainly didn't want to endanger more lives. Someone might rush in to help, only to have the vampire go berserk and slaughter both Amira and anyone who came to her aid.
That had to be it. She just didn't want to put innocent lives in danger. Never mind that the previous night, she would have given anything for the vampire to leave and kill some other human, if only she would let Amira alone. Never mind that Amira's will to live was such that she was sure she could (if not easily) sacrifice another to save herself. A calloused view, perhaps, but an honest one. She made no righteous pretense.
So, if that were true, why didn't she run?
((OOC: edited for mispelling of "berserk"))
She didn't know what kept the other female there, what change in circumstances had made her retreat into the corner. Nor did she know if it was a matter of will or of necessity, and that made her cautious. So much of what the vampire had done thus far had been different from what it seemed, and, in many cases, manipulative.
Yes, yes, she got the point. Don't trust the vampire. Constantly reminding herself of that did her no good. What was she going to do about it?
For now? Nothing. “As entertaining as this is, I'm starving. I don't suppose vampires eat breakfast?” Her bandaged hand twitched reflexively at the unfortunate wording. “Food, that is. Not...” She cleared her throat. “Well, you know what I mean.”
Ah, small talk. That was sure to win the bloodthirsty monster over. A perfect plan. Amira, she mused, you're a real idiot.
The smartest thing to do, of course, would be to run. Burst out the door, scream, find help, get a guard to drag the monster our of her house. Yet, for now at least, the vampire wasn't jumping at her throat, and she didn't particularly want to do anything to jeopardize the precarious situation, temporary as it might be. Besides which, she certainly didn't want to endanger more lives. Someone might rush in to help, only to have the vampire go berserk and slaughter both Amira and anyone who came to her aid.
That had to be it. She just didn't want to put innocent lives in danger. Never mind that the previous night, she would have given anything for the vampire to leave and kill some other human, if only she would let Amira alone. Never mind that Amira's will to live was such that she was sure she could (if not easily) sacrifice another to save herself. A calloused view, perhaps, but an honest one. She made no righteous pretense.
So, if that were true, why didn't she run?
((OOC: edited for mispelling of "berserk"))
Last edited by Amira Lum on Wed Jan 17, 2007 2:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Of course the human was right in her musings. Plunging through the door, headlong into the brightness, would leave the vampire trapped behind her with no way to leave the house until nightfall. And sending guards into the home would leave the vampire both trapped and cornered, in a weakened state. Not the best situation to avoid a full-out berserking rage, but in either case, the human would find herself without a vampire by day's end.
But the human was curious, and despite the vampire's physical presence and threat, the human could not fight such base instincts as the human urge to find out, to know, and to discover.
Jenica, for her part, remained silent until the offer of food. The vampire's hands twitched, just powerful enough to be noticed by the prey, imagining those fingers curling into the woman's stomach, just as her own sire had done a few nights ago. Oh, how it had hurt - she wondered if it felt the same for a human. She'd played many games with her prey, but never had she simply shoved a hand inside and waited for the death to come. Like a worm on a hook, impaled but still able to writhe...the tongue would have to come out, to stop the annoying screams, stopper the throat with blood so that it was left to gurgle...
Once more, Jenica made the conscious effort to shove the hunger down, back into her belly. The stronger it became, the more murderous her own thoughts turned. But a fight during the daylight, with windows and doors surrounding her, was pointless. She needed to keep herself under control.
The vampire didn't move from her position on the wall. The only noticeable adjustment was her arms, crossing loosely in front of her chest, as she levelled her steady and unwavering sights on the human before her. Forever examining, sizing up, watching for a moment of weakness. Oh yes, if this human came closer, she would die. Jenica was sure that her control could extend exactly as far as the small space she inhabited. But if the human stepped any closer...
The vampire flickered her gaze to the human's cupboards. She remembered that glasses often came in such things. She wondered if the human had anything to drink. Wine, perhaps, would at least ease her burning throat.
"Wine, if you have it."
But the human was curious, and despite the vampire's physical presence and threat, the human could not fight such base instincts as the human urge to find out, to know, and to discover.
Jenica, for her part, remained silent until the offer of food. The vampire's hands twitched, just powerful enough to be noticed by the prey, imagining those fingers curling into the woman's stomach, just as her own sire had done a few nights ago. Oh, how it had hurt - she wondered if it felt the same for a human. She'd played many games with her prey, but never had she simply shoved a hand inside and waited for the death to come. Like a worm on a hook, impaled but still able to writhe...the tongue would have to come out, to stop the annoying screams, stopper the throat with blood so that it was left to gurgle...
Once more, Jenica made the conscious effort to shove the hunger down, back into her belly. The stronger it became, the more murderous her own thoughts turned. But a fight during the daylight, with windows and doors surrounding her, was pointless. She needed to keep herself under control.
The vampire didn't move from her position on the wall. The only noticeable adjustment was her arms, crossing loosely in front of her chest, as she levelled her steady and unwavering sights on the human before her. Forever examining, sizing up, watching for a moment of weakness. Oh yes, if this human came closer, she would die. Jenica was sure that her control could extend exactly as far as the small space she inhabited. But if the human stepped any closer...
The vampire flickered her gaze to the human's cupboards. She remembered that glasses often came in such things. She wondered if the human had anything to drink. Wine, perhaps, would at least ease her burning throat.
"Wine, if you have it."
Amira glanced at the vampire's hands as they convulsed, and took a slight step back. Mentioning food had probably not been the best idea, but it was too late now. As the vampire crossed her arms, Amira returned the level gaze for a moment, until she became unsettled and looked away.
The eventual request came as a bit of a surprise. She hadn't much expected a response, particularly after the short stretch of silence, and if she had, she wouldn't have guessed that the vampire would ask for wine, of all things. In the morning? That would probably make Amira sick, but she supposed she couldn't superimpose her own human weaknesses on the vampire. The thing fed on blood, after all.
She nodded silently, moving slowly, cautiously to the nearest cupboard. She swung the door open and pulled down a wine glass, then looked up at the top shelf, where she'd stuck the unopened alcohol while unpacking – she wasn't much of a drinker.
Nor was she a giant, and the cupboards weren't designed for vertically challenged humans. Pushing the glass out of the way, she hefted herself up onto the counter in a kneeling position. After pulling down a bottle of red wine, she turned around, sitting on the edge of the counter with her feet dangling. She didn't bother to meet the vampire's gaze again, but she glanced out of the corner of her eye at intervals as she opened the bottle and poured. It was a small bottle, but a good wine, and Amira wafted the glass under her nose before finally turning to look at the vampire.
What now? Should she walk across the kitchen to offer the glass to the vampire? She wasn't sure she wanted to get any closer to the creature than she had to. “Um,” she noted, inclining her head at the glass. For now, she stayed seated on the counter top, crossing her legs uncomfortably at the ankles.
The eventual request came as a bit of a surprise. She hadn't much expected a response, particularly after the short stretch of silence, and if she had, she wouldn't have guessed that the vampire would ask for wine, of all things. In the morning? That would probably make Amira sick, but she supposed she couldn't superimpose her own human weaknesses on the vampire. The thing fed on blood, after all.
She nodded silently, moving slowly, cautiously to the nearest cupboard. She swung the door open and pulled down a wine glass, then looked up at the top shelf, where she'd stuck the unopened alcohol while unpacking – she wasn't much of a drinker.
Nor was she a giant, and the cupboards weren't designed for vertically challenged humans. Pushing the glass out of the way, she hefted herself up onto the counter in a kneeling position. After pulling down a bottle of red wine, she turned around, sitting on the edge of the counter with her feet dangling. She didn't bother to meet the vampire's gaze again, but she glanced out of the corner of her eye at intervals as she opened the bottle and poured. It was a small bottle, but a good wine, and Amira wafted the glass under her nose before finally turning to look at the vampire.
What now? Should she walk across the kitchen to offer the glass to the vampire? She wasn't sure she wanted to get any closer to the creature than she had to. “Um,” she noted, inclining her head at the glass. For now, she stayed seated on the counter top, crossing her legs uncomfortably at the ankles.
-
Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Although the human was primed for an attack, helpless and clean and off her guard, the vampire remained where she stood. Not because of self-restraint, oh no. If given the chance, the human would find herself looking at her own entrails. No, what kept the vampire at bay was the casual sunlight which played across the human's kitchen, filtering through the door and small windows, playful little rivulets of death-bringing light which kept Jenica leaning against the wall, hating her own confinement and wishing she had stayed in the forest, her natural element.
But the human was complying, as she should. Jenica's hungry glare followed every motion as the human moved, watching the muscles bunch and shift, listening closely to the thriving heartbeat, and longing for just one taste of what her own body so desperately craved.
The tiny clink of the glass on the counter woke the vampire from her daydreaming, and she blinked, a long, drawn-out movement that indicated how long it took her to refocus. Wine. On the counter. Why was there wine? Ah, yes. I asked for it.
Instant motion. The vampire didn't care if she made sudden movements, the type which startled humans into awareness or fear. She had a clear objective, therefore she would achieve her goal. She didn't move toward the human - or rather, she moved in the direction the human sat, but toward the glass itself, not the human. She gripped the wine glass as a bar patron would grip a jug, and lifted it to her lips to swallow the unsatisfying, but at least moisturizing, liquid.
Its texture and taste was the closest to blood that existed within alcoholic beverages. It was metallic enough to fool the desperate tongue, thick enough to coat the throat which ached with every swallow, and the smell bite into the vampire's nose enough to keep her focused until the entire glass was emptied.
It hurt less. She mused at how even the smallest bit of relief gave her satisfaction. She was so used to pain that any absence of it felt like heaven. If one glass made it a bit better, then another...
The vampire held her glass out, face still blank of all emotion. She still remained a threat, the physical manifestation of potential harm, but at that moment she was more akin to a dog begging for water. Even the blankness of her eyes was a close thing...although there was no playfulness in the vampire's figure. Or rather, not the kind that the human would enjoy.
But the human was complying, as she should. Jenica's hungry glare followed every motion as the human moved, watching the muscles bunch and shift, listening closely to the thriving heartbeat, and longing for just one taste of what her own body so desperately craved.
The tiny clink of the glass on the counter woke the vampire from her daydreaming, and she blinked, a long, drawn-out movement that indicated how long it took her to refocus. Wine. On the counter. Why was there wine? Ah, yes. I asked for it.
Instant motion. The vampire didn't care if she made sudden movements, the type which startled humans into awareness or fear. She had a clear objective, therefore she would achieve her goal. She didn't move toward the human - or rather, she moved in the direction the human sat, but toward the glass itself, not the human. She gripped the wine glass as a bar patron would grip a jug, and lifted it to her lips to swallow the unsatisfying, but at least moisturizing, liquid.
Its texture and taste was the closest to blood that existed within alcoholic beverages. It was metallic enough to fool the desperate tongue, thick enough to coat the throat which ached with every swallow, and the smell bite into the vampire's nose enough to keep her focused until the entire glass was emptied.
It hurt less. She mused at how even the smallest bit of relief gave her satisfaction. She was so used to pain that any absence of it felt like heaven. If one glass made it a bit better, then another...
The vampire held her glass out, face still blank of all emotion. She still remained a threat, the physical manifestation of potential harm, but at that moment she was more akin to a dog begging for water. Even the blankness of her eyes was a close thing...although there was no playfulness in the vampire's figure. Or rather, not the kind that the human would enjoy.