I was tooling around with a new anime game the other day. As I often do, I recycle characters from my various fictional universes as role-playing characters in MMOs, single player games, and tabletop games. So my first characters ("toons" would be a very appropriate slang term to use here) were the cast from VbN Act One. Got a couple of cool screen caps while messing around.
That's Boar and Deborah sharing an affectionate moment.
And here's the first of Michael's ill-fated romances brought to life. That's him and Kris Keller.
I might make a few more of these if I keep playing the game. Part of the issue is the English hack is still incomplete. The other part is it's quite a bit more risque than what I like. Still, these pics might be worth it, even if just to imagine these characters "anime style."
If you need the threat of eternal damnation to be a good person, then you are not a good person.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Random Thoughts
Thought #1
I set myself a goal this summer: Write 2-3 pages each day. I did this in part because I have one friend who's gotten into creative writing as a hobby and he's been asking for advice. I have classmate from high school who is now a published author. I was beginning to feel a little left behind.
So far, so good. It's helped me immensely to plow through the opening chapters of PbN 1999. I'm also still posting Star Swords material on my other story page.
Thought #2
And speaking of Star Swords and other throwbacks to my past writings, I made the decision to incorporate some of my old WAS characters into PbN 1999. WAS was a near future sci-fi/political thriller role-playing game that I made in high school. It was basically James Bond's universe with giant world-spanning conspiracies, megalomaniacal super-villains, and cool gadgets, with suave super spies and assassins as the heroes. I wrote a series of mini-novels centered on some of the characters (some of my very first forays into creative writing).
About 15 years ago, I gave some thought to reviving the franchise. I made some notes on a possible revamp of the universe, taking out some of the more fantastical elements, changing character names and backgrounds, and coming up with a few brief plot ideas. What emerged would have been a pretty cool set of stories, but I got distracted as I often do and that material has laid fallow ever since.
Enter Hunter: The Vigil. When I started doing background work for the Reign of Terror in Act Four of VbN, I started reading a lot of HtV sourcebooks. There I was introduced to Task Force Valkyrie, the government agency tasked with dealing with supernatural threats. I started using them as minions for the frighteningly well-connected Damian Drake. Now, in PbN 1999, they're going have a larger role.
But I ran into a problem. Michael's author alias is "Alex McCoid," which is the name of the protagonist in the WAS stories. I wasn't using the name for anything so I simply stole it. Now I'm debating whether to keep that as Michael's pen name or swap it for something else so I can introduce the "real" Alex McCoid as a TFV agent.
*Sigh*
This is what happens when I don't think things through.
Thought #3
Made a quick stop at IMDB today. The little front page trivia bit was about True Blood.
"Each episode title is also the title of a song from popular or Christian music."
Fuck! Here I was thinking I was doing something unique with the chapter titles of my story.
I set myself a goal this summer: Write 2-3 pages each day. I did this in part because I have one friend who's gotten into creative writing as a hobby and he's been asking for advice. I have classmate from high school who is now a published author. I was beginning to feel a little left behind.
So far, so good. It's helped me immensely to plow through the opening chapters of PbN 1999. I'm also still posting Star Swords material on my other story page.
Thought #2
And speaking of Star Swords and other throwbacks to my past writings, I made the decision to incorporate some of my old WAS characters into PbN 1999. WAS was a near future sci-fi/political thriller role-playing game that I made in high school. It was basically James Bond's universe with giant world-spanning conspiracies, megalomaniacal super-villains, and cool gadgets, with suave super spies and assassins as the heroes. I wrote a series of mini-novels centered on some of the characters (some of my very first forays into creative writing).
About 15 years ago, I gave some thought to reviving the franchise. I made some notes on a possible revamp of the universe, taking out some of the more fantastical elements, changing character names and backgrounds, and coming up with a few brief plot ideas. What emerged would have been a pretty cool set of stories, but I got distracted as I often do and that material has laid fallow ever since.
Enter Hunter: The Vigil. When I started doing background work for the Reign of Terror in Act Four of VbN, I started reading a lot of HtV sourcebooks. There I was introduced to Task Force Valkyrie, the government agency tasked with dealing with supernatural threats. I started using them as minions for the frighteningly well-connected Damian Drake. Now, in PbN 1999, they're going have a larger role.
But I ran into a problem. Michael's author alias is "Alex McCoid," which is the name of the protagonist in the WAS stories. I wasn't using the name for anything so I simply stole it. Now I'm debating whether to keep that as Michael's pen name or swap it for something else so I can introduce the "real" Alex McCoid as a TFV agent.
*Sigh*
This is what happens when I don't think things through.
Thought #3
Made a quick stop at IMDB today. The little front page trivia bit was about True Blood.
"Each episode title is also the title of a song from popular or Christian music."
Fuck! Here I was thinking I was doing something unique with the chapter titles of my story.
Thought #4
I've been wavering again on the lolicon aspect to Sarah's character. Only this time, I wavering towards making her look more juvenile rather less.
I've always been torn about this particular issue. There are very few things in our society more taboo than pedophilia, so I've been questioning how much I want to court the controversy here. Of course, Sarah is not actually a child. By the end of VbN she would be very nearly 30, but looks somewhere around 12 because of when she was embraced as a vampire.
But I've got a particular plot point in some upcoming chapters that really only works if Sarah truly looks her age at the onset. She has to look 12 or the changes that she's about to undergo won't have the impact that they're supposed to, on either the characters in the story or you as the readers.
So I'm shifting her appearance younger again and taking my chances with the "Eww! Gross!" reaction people will likely have when she and Michael get busy.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Act One Chapter Four - Torn
Michael slid into the hot tub on the porch of
Prince Deborah Means’ apartment haven in Roanoke .
He was not supposed to be there. Deborah had forbidden him from ever entering
the city of Roanoke
without a direct summon from her. But his purposes tonight required that he
ignore that edict.
Yes, it was an act of defiance, but Michael’s
intent was not hostile. He meant no harm to her, to her city, or to any of her
schemes. He meant instead to finally seal the breach between them. He wasn’t
completely sure how to do that, but he knew that he couldn’t do it via a messenger
from Blacksburg .
It had to be face-to-face.
He came unarmed and when he arrived, the hot tub
gave him an idea. He stripped down completely; no swim trunks, no underwear,
naked as the day he was born. There would be no secrets, no tricks, no place to
conceal anything that might threatening.
All that, and the simple fact that lust had been
the one thing that had always bound them together. When Michael first came to Blacksburg as a freshman
college student, Deborah pursued him with an obsessive and relentless tenacity.
He’d always said no in an effort to retain fidelity to Rebecca back home, but
once Rebecca dropped him for someone else, Michael caved in.
The months that followed after that were a blur
of shameless hedonism. Deborah was his first…at nearly everything. She was his
first sexual encounter. They were each other’s guinea pig test subject for
nearly every sexual position known to humankind. Every orifice too. Just the
two of them or with others.
No other partner Michael had, with the exception
perhaps of Sammy McKay, came even close to Deborah’s creativity and eagerness
to try just about anything. Deborah was, of course, born in a brothel. A
bastard daughter raised to be prostitute like her mother. Sex had been a part
of her life since day one and none of that changed after she was made a
vampire. When she turned Michael, she put the decades of her experience and her
unchanging teenage beauty to work on him.
As he waited and thought about their history
together, Michael came to realize that Deborah really was a category all her
own. He loved genuinely and passionately several of his partners: Kris, Leigh,
and, of course, Rebecca and Sarah. Sex with them was intimacy and emotion, the
physical expression of the truth of who they were as a couple.
Then, there were his blood dolls. Food and fun
and little more, as he had said to Keiko the night after he’d first taken her.
But sex with them was often rather vanilla, fun for the moment, but carried
little to no emotional weight for the long term. Nor was there much
experimentation. The harem was better about that, but there were still places
Michael would not go with them. He knew he could. With the thrall-bond, he
could make them do whatever he wished with little consequences. But even though
they were his slaves, Michael chose for his own sake not to violate or
disrespect whatever limits they set. To do otherwise was to set himself on a path
he did not wish to go down, a path his inner Beast would enjoy far too much.
That left Deborah all by herself as Michael’s
teacher, mentor, sire, and lover. He missed the relationship they had once had.
He missed it when he had fled to Tidewater. Michael wondered if his preference
for petite women and redheads had anything to do with trying to find a
substitute for Deborah. But when he returned to Roanoke , Michael did not get back what he had
hoped. His relationship with Deborah was now marred by her fears of Michael’s
power and her rage at Rebecca’s departure, which she blamed completely on
Michael.
The elevator doors to the penthouse opened and
Deborah stepped out with her two thrall bodyguards, nondescript thugs that
towered over the diminutive Prince. She and the bodyguards spotted him pretty
much immediately. The guards made to draw their weapons, but Deborah stopped
them. She then dismissed them and walked out onto the patio herself.
“This is a bold stroke.” She said.
“I missed your pleasant company.” He admitted.
“You know the law.”
“And if you were all that interested in
upholding it, you’d have sent your two thugs to throw me out of here. That or
stake me for the sun.”
“And we both know that those two morons, for all
their size, would be no match for you in a fight.” She looked down at the water
and saw his state of undress.. “Naked or not.”
“True.” He replied. “You know, I left town for a
few days a week or so ago. Went back home. Got into a tussle with the so-called
Prince of Charleston. Killed him with one shot. Drove my knife right through
his brain and it must have struck with such force that I just pulverized
everything. He turned to ash. Just like that.”
“You planning to duplicate that feat tonight?”
“If you genuinely thought I was, you’d have long
since fled.” Said Michael. “You and you alone continue to see our relationship
only in terms of our political power. It’s always about that moment that you’re
convinced is coming when I decide to usurp your throne from you.”
Michael paused and then began to speak again,
his tone one of exasperation. “I don’t know what else to do. In the two years
you have sat your throne, I have done nothing but support you. I have stayed
out of Roanoke ,
kept to myself. I have backed ever edict, every law you have imposed. My power,
such as it is, has served you and you alone since I arrived. What more proof do
you need of my good intentions?”
“I doubt you have anything to offer that could
do that.”
“Well, there is one thing I haven’t tried yet.”
He splashed the water playfully, implying she should get in.
“Really?” responded Deborah incredulously.
Michael looked her up and down. She was still as pretty and
sexy as he remembered. Petite, buxom, with the porcelain features of her
Chinese mother and the fiery red hair of her Irish sailor father, she epitomized
the term “exotic beauty.” Her clothing was, as always, intended to entice and
tempt, showing just enough leg, midriff, and cleavage to grab the attention of
any red-blooded male.
“Why not?” retorted Michael. “It is what brought us
together.” He began to articulate some of what he’d been thinking about over
the past hour: the fun they’d had, the experimentation, and so forth. But he
didn’t get very far.
“Oh, shut up. If you want it that badly…” She began pulling
her clothes off.
Deborah undressed so enthusiastically that Michael strongly
suspected that she wanted him almost as badly as he wanted her. It wasn’t long
before she was on top of him.
As he went in and out of her, Michael began to think this
was a little too easy. When she raked her nails across his back hard enough to
draw blood, Michael realized he was right.
First it was his back, then his face. None of it was causing
any lasting damage, as Michael’s vampire metabolism regenerated such minor
injuries almost instantaneously.
Deborah then put both her hands around his neck and began to
squeeze, as if trying to strangle him. All the while, she pounded on him all
the harder. It was almost as if she was trying to vent all her rage and anguish
through sex.
After a few minutes, she slid off of him and stepped out of
the hot tub. She grabbed Michael forcefully by the arm and wordlessly yanked
him out as well. She half-dragged him over to another part of the porch, shoved
him down, and grabbed him by the balls.
“I could rip this right off of you right now.” She
threatened.
“It would grow back.” Michael replied quietly.
“Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it?” She mounted him again and
began anew: the scratching, the biting, the choking, the fucking, all of it.
After a few more minutes she screamed out a climax that sounded half orgasm and
half cry of rage and rolled off of Michael.
Michael lay there for a moment not entirely sure of what had
just happened to him. He looked at Deborah. She sat motionless; her face was
like stone, full of anger and frustration. Her eyes stared out over the city;
it was almost as if she’d forgotten Michael was there at all.
“Happy now?” asked Michael, trying to gauge her mood. “I’ve
heard of hate-fucking, but it’s something else entirely to experience it.”
She continued to ignore him.
Michael sat up. “Hey,” he said, trying to draw her
attention. “I get the feeling you needed that. Needed to get that all out
somehow.” She turned and glared at him, a look of pure fury and hatred. But it
lasted only a brief moment before she did something Michael would not have
thought possible.
Deborah turned away from him, curled up, pulling her knees
up to her chest, and then burst into tears. Vampires were certainly capable of
the full range of human emotions, but for Deborah to cave into her grief in
front of someone she considered an enemy was unheard of. But then again, was
Michael really an enemy?
He scooted closer to her and placed an understanding hand on
her shoulder. She looked up at him. “I know I shouldn’t do this. I know you
think me weak.” She admitted.
“No,” Michael interrupted. “This is the first honest moment
you’ve had in two years. You wasted all those months playing games, trying to
convince yourself and everyone else that you hated me for driving away Rebecca.
All of it was just an excuse to avoid doing what you’re doing now.” As Michael
finished speaking, Deborah went back to her tears.
He let her cry it out for minutes upon minutes. After an
age, she stopped and began to compose herself again. Deborah sat up.
“I was born a bastard”, she explained, “in a trashy
whorehouse to a father who didn’t know I existed and to a mother who only saw
another slut she could sell on the street one day. Then Lucy came along and
made me a vampire, and for nearly 50 years, I’ve danced through this
nightmarish world, full of cutthroats and betrayers. Nothing in my life story
is soft or kind or pure, mortal or kindred. There was only the moment, what
little pleasure I could grasp in the now. Never in a million years did I ever
believe I would actually fall in love with someone.”
Deborah looked at Michael and took him in hand. “It’s said
you found someone in Tidewater. Someone you left behind to come here.”
“I thought she was dead.” Michael admitted. “I moved on
because I felt there was nothing left for me there. Only the mission that I
came there with remained. So I came home, back to you, back to this place, to
fulfill my promises.” Michael started to shake his head. “But my destiny is not
here. I came here tonight to make my peace with you, one last shot to finally
get this bullshit that’s kept us apart gone. I wanted to do that because I’m
leaving Blacksburg .
I’m going back to Tidewater to claim what’s mine.”
Deborah smiled, weakly at first but then stronger as she
heard what he was saying. “You are still so human.” She teased. “Why would it
matter what was between us when you’re planning to leave?”
“You’re my sire, my ally, my friend,” he paused. “My lover,
my first lover at that. Your blessing matters to me.”
“Sentimentality is a weakness, Michael.” Warned Deborah.
“Especially in our world.”
“So says the one who was just curled up like baby crying her
eyes out over a lost love.”
Deborah frowned and turned away. Michael took her by the
chin and turned her head to him. “It’s not a weakness, Deborah. You yourself
once told me that our feelings are what keep us grounded, keep us sane. I’m
honored you trusted me enough to allow yourself that moment of honesty and
vulnerability. I know that wasn’t easy.”
“You’re probably the only kindred I could have gotten away
with doing that in front of.” Admitted Deborah. “Yeah, I trust you. I
shouldn’t, but I do.”
“So we’re cool?”
Deborah nodded. “I was so angry with you, and yet so glad
you were not only alive but successful. You destroyed The Djinn, gave me my
throne, but you also chased her away. I didn’t know what to feel about you.”
She paused and smiled again. Michael had missed seeing that. She continued. “We
wasted two years of playing at being enemies when it’s not really what either
of us wanted. I should’ve or you should’ve…”
“If Sarah were here, she no doubt tell us that this was not
fated to happen any earlier than now. You weren’t ready. And really neither was
I.”
“I’m not used to you spouting philosophy and sounding like a
wise seasoned kindred.”
“I have my moments.”
“Yeah, but make no mistake, Michael. We’ve forgiven one
another, but that doesn’t happen much in our world. Some enemies stay that way
and friends are hard to come by. I wouldn’t expect kindness or mercy from even your
former allies in Tidewater. Max will most certainly try to kill you if you go
back.”
“He can try. But others have tried too and they all failed.”
“He’s the childe of Mathias and just as cunning.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that. When you know the nature of a
thing, you know what it’s capable of.” Retorted Michael, quoting the film Blade. “Damian Drake will do what he
does best, try to maneuver himself to whichever side he thinks is the winning
one. Francois du Bois is a man of honor and nobility like Solomon. The fact
that I saved his life twice will not be ignored by him.
“As for Max, well, he’s a slimy little coward who wouldn’t
dare confront me face-to-face. No, he’ll come up with some scheme to knife me
in the back when I’m not looking. The rest, well, they’re the wild cards.
They’re the unknowns. But those three are really the only ones that matter and
I’ve got one, maybe two of them, already on my side.”
“Max is the one that worries me.”
Michael kissed her on the cheek affectionately. “In less than
an hour, you go from hating my guts to worrying about my safety. I love you,
Deborah. I wouldn’t worry. Maybe I’ll just walk in and slice him in half and
then watch the others scramble for my favor.” Michael smiled wickedly.
“Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“It frightens me how you can shift from gentle loving
Michael to imperious primogen Michael within a breath.”
“A trick you taught me, dear Deborah.” Said Michael. “You
know, it feels good to let imperious primogen Michael out for a breath of fresh
air. I am tired of wallowing here trying to drown myself in excess, a pale
shadow of what I once was. I am going back to Sarah. I am going back for what
is rightfully mine, and hell itself will not stop me. Let alone Prince
Maximilian.”
“No, I would imagine not. You want my blessing on your
endeavors? Well, you have it.”
“I have something else to offer you.”
“Oh?”
“A piece of information I’ve learned. An old acquaintance of
mine recently stumbled across a mutual friend while visiting the city of Philadelphia . At a club
called Studio Gothic on South
Street , the city’s nightclub district.”
Deborah’s mouth opened in shock and surprise. “Rebecca?”
Michael nodded. “We now know where she went.”
“To Monroe ?
To Philadelphia ?”
Deborah frowned. “That’s a hornets’ nest if there ever was one.”
“You faced down Mathias and The Djinn. What does Thomas
Monroe have that makes you so afraid of him?”
Deborah looked at him hard, as if debating in her own mind
what to say next. “We may have reconciled, Michael, but there are things that I
can’t entrust even to you. One day maybe, you’ll find out what I mean.”
“To go to her, you would have to surrender your throne.”
Admitted Michael. “I know that has to be a hard choice, but if you love her…”
“I wouldn’t face Monroe
even for that. God help her if he finds out…”
“Finds out what?” Now Michael was growing concerned.
“I can’t say anymore.” Said Deborah. “But we both know how
capable she is. I wouldn’t worry about her. Still, knowing where she is, where
I might find her if I do build up courage enough to go, that’s worth the world
to me, Michael. Thank you.”
“Good, because I have a boon to ask. I wish to be granted
the right to sire another kindred.”
“Are you taking this new kindred with you or leaving him or
her to mind your affairs here?”
“Leaving them. I’ve made some significant investment in Blacksburg that I’ll
probably need in the near term for my purposes in Tidewater.”
“Then how will you mentor this virgin kindred?” critiqued
Deborah.
“A fair question. I was thinking of a very good mentor who
could guide my childe in our ways.” He gave Deb a sly grin.
“Hence your need to reconcile with me.” Deborah laughed. “So
it wasn’t sentimentality after all.”
“You wouldn’t be laughing if you actually thought I was
lying to you a minute ago. That doesn’t mean however that I don’t have other
hopes and motives too.”
“Why should I not make this prospect of yours my childe
then?”
“That would be your prerogative as Prince.”
“So which of those beauties do you have in mind?”
“I don’t. I was actually thinking someone who’s done far
more to earn it. One of my first thralls, my friend Corwin Morse.”
Deborah reached down and gave Michael’s cock a playful
stroke. “Is he…”
“You have a dirty mind.” Teased Michael.
Deborah’s face grew serious. “If I’m denied those I really
want, I would prefer your alternative be a decent distraction.” Michael smiled,
realizing the word “those” easily and probably included him as well as Rebecca.
“Well, he’s enthusiastic. I’ll give him that. Takes his pick
of the harem a few nights of the week.” Michael paused remembering. “Rebecca
enjoyed him more than once back in the day, but as to his physical attributes,
I’ll leave such judgments to you.”
Deborah smiled wickedly, as if an evil idea had crossed her
mind, an evil idea that she liked very much. “This is another bold stroke on
your part. You want to embrace a new childe so you can maintain a toehold on
your domain here. A new childe that could act as your spy in my regime. A
childe who you think is charming and eager to seduce me into his confidence
just you can wrap me around your finger by proxy.”
Michael frowned at first, but soon realized she was being
facetious, playing with him and his request. Deborah continued. “You might have
to do a better job of persuading me to buy into this dangerous scheme of
yours.”
“What did you have in mind?”
---
Michael spent the next week in Deborah’s arms. It was like
the old nights, those nights after he was turned. They talked together, they
laughed together, they played together, and (of course) they slept together.
Deborah held court that week at her usual site, the Star at Mill Mountain
Park . Outdoors, open,
much different that the old stuffy cathedral meetings of Mathias and The Djinn.
It was the one night each month when Michael had previously been permitted to
travel into Roanoke .
But the full number of Roanoke ’s
kindred was much diminished from its lofty heights when Michael was turned.
Solomon was on his travels again. Ernie was gone. Mathias, Andreas, and The Djinn
were dead. Only Julia added to their number to replace those who had gone
missing, leaving the whole kindred court of the city to number a feeble five.
But there was another difference this night. At every court
over the last two years, ever since Michael had returned, he’d been delegated
to the back of the gathering. A visual representation of the hostility between
him and Deborah. This night, however, saw sire and childe standing side by
side.
Deborah announced her decision that evening: permission was
granted for Michael to sire another.
After court concluded, Michael returned to Deborah’s
apartment to gather his things. He needed to return to Blacksburg to make ready for the next steps
in his plan. But he took a moment of pause and entered into Solomon’s old dojo.
Deborah had taken the liberty of redecorating the room
somewhat. She had, over the past two years, painted a series of portraits that
now decorated the far wall of the dojo. The Daeva sense of beauty was manifest
in those paintings; Michael had always thought Deb more musical than visual,
but now saw she was both.
The central painting and the tallest was of Deborah herself.
She was nude, her dragon tattoo finely detailed as it traced down the side of
her body. Every delicate detail of her beautiful anatomy was on display in
vivid realism. By any measure, it was a gorgeous portrait of an astoundingly
beautiful young woman. Although, Michael found some amusement that the shortest
character depicted in this menagerie had the tallest portrait.
To the left of Deborah were two portraits of men: Solomon
and Michael. They were likewise nude and both were looking towards the center,
towards Deborah. Solomon’s motorcycle was the background of his painting and
Michael’s portrait showed him bearing a sword (Hiroshi’s katana, to be
precise.)
To the right of Deborah were two women. Nudity was the theme
of these paintings, so Michael was not surprised to find these the same. These
two also looked towards Deborah. The innermost, corresponding with Michael
opposite, was Rebecca and she too held a blade in hand, her scimitar. The
outermost woman was one Michael didn’t recognize. Behind her was a large bull
with a blanket draped over its back. On the blanket was a family crest Michael did
not recognize.
Deborah arrived as Michael surveyed the paintings. She
joined him in the dojo.
“I walked past these all week long. Never took the time to
really look at them until now.” He said to her. “They’re exquisite.”
“Didn’t know I could paint, did you?”
“I knew you could sing. Play instruments. Write poetry, and
lyrics, and music. I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine
your creativity expanding into visual arts.” Michael stepped forward to look
more closely at his own portrait. He then looked back at Deborah.
“I’m not sure I’m that big.” He said, referring to his
phallus. “Is that a compliment or wishful thinking?”
“Maybe a bit of both.” Teased Deb.
“And who’s the fourth? The other three have shared your bed,
so I assume she’s one of your past lovers.”
“Can you not guess?”
Michael thought for a moment. “Your sire. It has to be.”
Deb nodded. “Lucy Bonneville, in all her beautiful glory. At
least, as I remember it.”
“I thought you hated her.”
“I do,” said Deb. “And I love her all the same.” She
gestured towards Michael’s portrait. “Just like you. When I painted you, we
were enemies. Rivalry and allegiance. Hatred and love. These are fluid concepts
for those of us who live forever. There may come a day when the only thing you
have left of your past is your worst enemy. What then? Do you eradicate them
because they are your enemy or do preserve them because they are the only
remaining link to memories you don’t want to forget?” She paused and smiled.
“Hell, one moment your foe may become your lover again. Like we did.”
“You sound almost like you want that with her.”
“At times. But right now,” Deborah ran her hand gracefully
across Rebecca’s portrait, as if caressing its subject, “I would give anything
to have her back. But tomorrow? A year from now? A century? Who knows? Solomon
took off into the night once more because I refused his advances. He wanted the
past to be again when I had long ago thought he had no such interest anymore.
Will there come a day when I pine for Lucy? Maybe.”
“She’s dead. That’s a hopeless dream.”
Deborah opened her mouth as if to say something in response,
but then closed it again. She walked over to Michael and kissed him. “Go back
to Blacksburg ,
my childe. Turn your new childe. I will await word of him here.”
---
Michael spent much of his drive back to Blacksburg thinking about his week with
Deborah and largely about the things that had gone unsaid in their
conversations. But he soon put it out of his mind as he made ready to welcome
Corwin into darkness.
He told the harem girls his plan; Julia, Mitch, and Boar
also. They made to set things up for the night it would happen.
The night began with a late (for normal humans) dinner at
the Farmhouse restaurant in Christiansburg. Michael knew of Corwin’s fondness
for the place, so he treated his loyal thrall to a fine steak dinner. Michael
enjoyed his meal as well, but as was the nature of vampires, he gained no
sustenance from his food.
The two then drove back to the villa. All seven women of the
harem were waiting for them.
“Alright, your gift does not end with dinner.” Said Michael.
“There is dessert. Pick one, two, or as many as you like.”
Michael’s comments about Corwin’s enthusiasm proved true, as
he took Rhea and Angelica off to the hot tub in the back part of the courtyard.
Julia moved to Michael’s side. “What happens when the moment
comes? As it did for me?”
“Well, I’m doing the same thing I did with you. Those he
didn’t pick…” Michael gestured to the other women. “should leave now. Once he’s
spent his energies on Angelica and Rhea, I’d ask you to spirit them out of
here. That’ll leave only the punch bowl full of blood that Angelica brought
over earlier for his Beast to frenzy all over.”
“Good,” said Julia. “I didn’t think you’d want to put any of
your lovely ladies in harm’s way.”
“No, not like this.”
---
It went exactly as planned. While Corwin made wild vigorous
love to his two favorites of Michael’s harem (Michael had not been the least
bit surprised that Corwin had chosen the two that he had.)
Once Corwin was done and sleeping off his exercise, Julia
whisked Rhea and Angelica out of the villa, leaving Michael alone with Corwin.
Michael set up a punch bowl with stolen blood bank stock, much as he had when
he turned Julia. He then went into Corwin’s room.
Corwin was laid out on the top of his king size bed, naked
and rather contented looking. Michael took a brief evaluation of his friend’s
physical assets, wondering if Deborah really would find him to her liking,
before pouncing upon Corwin and draining him dry.
Michael then fed Corwin in turn from himself, from his own
vampire blood. The transformation happened quickly and painfully, as it always
did. This was the third time now Michael had taken a childe, a more prodigious
rate than most vampires by far. Still, he had his reasons.
Corwin drained the punch bowl after a frantic dash from his
room to find fresh sustenance. When Corwin returned to himself, Michael called
Deborah.
“It’s done.” He said. “We’re going hunting. You know where.”
---
“It’s almost overwhelming.” Said Corwn, trying to take in
the world with new eyes.
The two of them were in downtown Blacksburg , walking the same streets Deborah
had taken Michael on nearly seven years earlier for his first hunt. There were
things that were much different. Some bars had closed down. Others had opened.
The Lyric theatre was no longer a half-abandoned dump, but now a thriving indie
movie house. The Hobby Shop was gone and it seemed that RecEx (the Record
Exchange music store) was soon to follow, the latter a victim of the new
Internet age and the Napster craze.
Michael made sure to not be too distracted by his sense of
nostalgia. He was bringing a hungry virgin vampire through the crowded streets
of a college town on a Monday night. The late September date had meant they
hadn’t gotten their evening started until close to 9pm, so it was now past
midnight. But that hadn’t much dimmed the energy of the college crowd about
that night.
“We should probably find more private hunting grounds.”
Suggested Michael. He turned south on Main
Street and then headed up a side street away from
downtown. As they headed up Jackson
towards a series of churches, Michael again repeated the lesson he’d given
twice before, as it once been given to him: “Feed without killing.”
A skinny nerdy looking fellow was walking towards them.
Corwin took his moment, grabbing the hapless fellow and dragging him into the
bushes. There, he feasted.
Michael checked the victim after Corwin had finished and
shook his head. It was going to take more than one lesson for Corwin to learn
feeding restraint.
“Sorry,” Corwin admitted with a mortified look. “I didn’t
want to kill him.”
“Of course not. But you must control the Beast’s impulses or
you will do this again.” Michael fished out the poor kid’s wallet and drew out
his gun. He fired two rounds into the body. “Let’s go.”
As they retreated with some haste, Michael explained his
actions. “The gunshots will draw the police. Officer Peacetree or Sammy or both
will make sure this is written up as a murder/robbery. No talk of exsanguinated
bodies or vampire killings will ever reach mortal ears.”
As they came around the block, they found Deborah standing
there waiting for them. “I heard the shots. I take it he failed his first
test.”
Corwin was clearly angry with himself and said nothing.
“He did, but so did I. So did Rebecca.” Michael didn’t
mention that one was deliberate. “In fact, Julia’s the only one of the four of
us who passed on the first try.”
Deborah walked over to Corwin. “Don’t be too hard on
yourself, but at the same time remember how this feels. It’ll give you resolve
not to cave in again.”
“Yes, mi’lady.”
“My name is Deborah and we have many a night together in the
future. No need for such formality.”
“You will answer to her as you would answer to me.”
Emphasized Michael. “I will be in Tidewater, restoring my legacy. Deborah will
teach you all that you need to know as kindred. She is as much your master and
sire as I am.”
Corwin nodded. Michael continued. “Good, because I want my legacy
here to be in the best hands possible: My sire and my childe together.”
---
“As you are now all aware,” Michael began. He was standing
in the courtyard of his villa in Blacksburg .
With him were Deborah, Corwin, Mitch, Boar, Julia, and the harem. “I will be
departing Blacksburg
to resume my position and authority in Tidewater. My intention however is to
leave behind a point of retreat here in Blacksburg
if things go south. I also desire to retain some influence here. To this end, I
have made Corwin kindred like me.”
Michael looked the assembled group up and down. “To assist
him, I have decided that not all of you will be joining me in Tidewater. Some
of you will remain behind to support Corwin. Treat him as you would me. Obey
him, do as he wishes. Is this understood?”
The harem nodded and Michael advanced towards Keiko. “Keiko,
my dear, I know we’ve only had these few short weeks to get to know one another
again, but I believe it would be a very unfair thing for me to take you away
from your studies here at Virginia Tech. I have decided therefore that you will
remain behind.”
Keiko nodded, her face one of disappointment. Michael moved
next to Donna. “As you might guess, Donna, I have made the same decision for
you and for the same reason. You are a student here. Your best way of serving
me is to remain that.”
Michael moved on to Rhea. “Rhea, it is clear to me that you
and Corwin have a great fondness for one another. It has not gone unnoticed how
often you two are together and I feel it would be unjust of me to separate you
now. You will remain as well.” Unlike the others, Rhea cracked a smile at the
announcement.
Michael then turned to Boar, standing beside Mitch and
Julia. “You three are my arm, my backbone, my armor, my sword. Without you,
this journey would be a fool’s errand. So, you’re going with, if you so
choose.”
Michael moved next to Angelica. “I know, Angelica, that you
and Corwin likewise have a great fondness for one another. I also know that
Mitch and others can get themselves in over their heads in this business pretty
easily. I’m going to need your medical skills, so I’m asking you to join us.”
Angelica nodded.
“Sammy,” said Michael, moving to the woman next to Angelica.
“do I even have to say it?”
“Not really.” She said with a grin. “I didn’t figure you
could live without me.”
“That leaves you, Terra,” said Michael, “and you may have
the most important task of all. It’s not secret that I go back not merely to
claim my prestige and power, but also to regain someone I should never have
left behind. I don’t what Sarah will say or do when I see her and may be all
for naught, but before we even get to that point, I’ll need your help. She’s
gone to ground and I don’t know where.”
“Neither do I. ” admitted
Terra.
“No, but you were part of her coven. You, of all people,
would have the best chance of tracking her down again. That’s why I need you to
come along.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I am certain you will.” Michael stepped back and addressed
the whole crowd. “We leave tomorrow at sundown. Until then, make your
preparations and if those are done, enjoy yourselves.” Michael then dismissed
them with a wave of his hand. He then turned and walked over to Deborah.
“I wish you luck.” She admitted. “You’ll probably need it.”
“With Max or with Sarah?”
“That question alone says volumes about where your fears
really lie.” She smiled and changed the subject. “You know, I was thinking.
About my portrait gallery with me and all my favorite lovers. Were you to do
the same, who would you paint?”
“Depends on how big I would make it, I suppose. You see a
whole bunch of candidates right here.”
“Do I? You see I think it would show you and three others.”
“And they would be?”
“If I know the answer, surely you do: Me, Sarah, and
Rebecca. No one else matters to you. Not really.” She smiled. “You’ve regained
me and now you go for Sarah. Call it a hunch, but I don’t think you’ll linger
long in Tidewater before setting your sights on Philadelphia . You’ll not be happy until you
have all three of us. That’s just your way.”
“Tidewater is ambitious enough. Philadelphia can wait.”
“But for how long? I wonder.”
---
Tiberius pushed up the heavy metal grate the
covered the storm sewer. He looked about in the dim light. There were people
all up and down the wooded path, but none took notice of him. That was, of
course, the plan; his vampire stealth concealed him well. It was necessary in
every way. Not only was he about some mischief tonight, but his appearance
would have frightened even the most jaded of onlookers. With no nose and
deformed ears, Tiberius was as ugly as a Nosferatu got.
He bounded across Forbidden Drive , so called he was told
because it was “forbidden” to drive on it. The gravel street was intended for
foot traffic only as it snaked through the whole of Fairmount Park .
It was early evening, not much more than a hour after sunset, and people on
this stretch of the drive were still plentiful. As night advanced, it would
grow more sparse and more dangerous.
Tiberius found his perch and took a seat. He had
a clear view of the path with its late joggers, wandering homeless, and a few
thrill-seekers looking for a secluded spot for an outdoor tryst. Tiberius saw
all types on these little excursions. He was master of his domain and his
domain was the extensive underground network of pipes, sewer tunnels, and
subway trains that underlay the entirety of Philadelphia . He likewise boldly claimed
pretty much any above-ground territory within a few dozen yards of any sewer
access point. He doubted that claim would stand up in front of the Prince, but
thus far no one had ever caught him poaching in their hunting ground. Tiberius
was far too slick for that. Even if they had, his sire had taught him well.
Tiberius was the son of Maximilian, the one-time
Prince of Williamsburg, Virginia. The two had ruled that hermitage city with a
combination of ruthless justice and blackmail. Nothing escaped their notice. If
you picked your nose, Max and Tiberius knew about it before you could flick the
snot away. When Max went into torpor, Tiberius struck out on his own and
settled in Philadelphia .
He’d used those same skills to amass a significant amount of power. Now he
ruled the Carthian Core coterie and had a seat of his own on the Primogen
council.
He’d gained that power in large part at the
expense of Princes Thomas Monroe and Elias Walsh. Their vast network in the
Roman Catholic church of the city had its vulnerable points; corrupt priests
had a tendency to be sloppy and Tiberius was always there with a demand and a
consequence to offer when they were.
But tonight’s purposes were different. It was
one thing to embezzle funds from the poor box or use your church to launder
gambling money. It was another entirely to hurt children and there was far too
much of that going on too. Tiberius’ eyes settled on his target and he smiled
grimly. After tonight, there’d be one less abusive priest for Prince Walsh to
make use of.
The two priests were jogging and were attired
appropriately. To any casual onlooker, it would have looked like just two guys
out for some evening exercise. But those who spent a lot of time in this part
of Fairmount Park knew them both, regardless of whether they were in
shorts-and-t-shirts or their clerical shirts.
Father Brian was the younger, and he seemed to
Tiberius to be one of the few genuinely good priests in Monroe/Walsh’s church.
He talked the talk and walked the walk, preaching Jesus, feeding the poor,
caring for the less fortunate, the whole nine yards; everything a priest is
supposed to do. He was reasonably new, had only taken his vows a year or so
ago. Too new perhaps for his companion to have drawn him over to the dark side.
Now there was his fondness for that one young lady in his parish, the wife of a
parishioner, but so far he’d not acted on it and broken his vows. Still, some
temptation was normal and even if Brian caved, a bit of forbidden fun between
consenting adults was a far cry to the sins of his companion.
The older priest was Brian’s opposite in nearly
every way. Where Brian was dark of skin and hair (good Italian stock), Father
Jacob was pale with hair as white as snow. As he jogged, he looked every bit
the old man trying to recapture his lost youth through vigorous exercise and
failing miserably at it. Even now, Jacob was winded and red in the face as he
tried to keep up with Brian.
Tiberius smiled. That weariness would be to his
advantage.
Jacob ran a children’s ministry at their parish
and most people would have found it odd that the elder and more senior priest
had assigned to himself that task, one normally reserved for younger and less
seasoned clergy. There, of course, a reason. Jacob was molesting nearly every
child in the program: boy, girl, from toddler to teen. He was a wolf in the
fold and no one seemed to know it was going on. No one but the children being
victimized and the monstrous vampire who had watched Jacob do it.
Tonight, this abomination would end.
Father Jacob stopped to catch his breath in
pretty much the same spot he always did. Brian shrugged in faux annoyance. This
was part of their routine. Brian would tease the older man about how out of
shape he was and then keep on going, leaving Jacob behind. There was little
danger in that. The two priests were well known in the park and the criminals
knew to leave them alone. Not only did they come by once a week to deliver
meals to the park’s homeless residents, they also never carried any money on
them while jogging. Only an inexperienced or foolish mugger would do anything
to either of them, alone or together.
Murdering Jacob would seem to all of them to be
a senseless act of brutality, but then again, they didn’t know what Tiberius
knew.
Brian was a good 100 yards down the path when
Tiberius stood up. He glanced about. The people on Forbidden Drive had thinned enough for
Tiberius to make his move with little chance of being seen. He stretched his
legs and rushed forward with haste only a monster of the night could muster.
Jacob barely registered Tiberius’s presence before he’d grabbed the priest and
dragged him into the woods beyond.
“Time to pay the piper, Father.” growled
Tiberius as he sank his fangs into the priest’s neck. Jacob struggled for only
a few moments before his life drained away into Tiberius. Tiberius then tossed
the dead priest aside and savored both the taste of the blood and his victory
over one of Walsh’s more despicable minions.
It was then that Tiberius realized he wasn’t
alone.
A dark skinned man in a long trench coat was
leaning against a tree a few yards away. “Did you enjoy that, mi amigo?”
The man asked, with a slight but noticeable Puerto Rican accent.
“Santiago.” said Tiberius with annoyance. “What
brings The Flame out to my hunting grounds?”
“They are not your hunting grounds.” emphasized Santiago . “Nor did you
have permission to feed and kill from Stirling ’’s
herd.”
“And you are not kindred, magi!” Tiberius
spat the last word with a bit of disgust. “You have no authority over me.”
“Only that authority given me by your Prince.”
Tiberius snarled, but deep down, fear was
beginning to creep in. Santiago
was a powerful wizard, one of the Dark Brotherhood. It was not unheard of for
kindred to “recruit” werewolves and mages from time to time for special tasks,
but most vampires left the Brotherhood alone. There was a reason for that,
mostly because EVERYONE in the city feared the Brotherhood. Tiberius was one of
the few that knew why.
And Tiberius had the feeling that was more why Santiago was here than a
few paltry disputes over kindred hunting privileges. “Mage or no, and
regardless of any sanction from the Prince, you are no match for the likes of
me. I am 200 years old and far stronger than you can imagine.”
“Age does not matter.” said Santiago . “Not when I can do this.” Santiago flung out his
hand as if throwing something at Tiberius. Nothing was thrown and nothing
seemed to change. Tiberius began to laugh.
“Really? I know you mages are more than just
parlor...” It was about that time that Tiberius noticed how incredibly hot it
was suddenly getting. “No! You...” The air, the foliage, the trees, and
anything else within about a foot of where Tiberius was standing suddenly
erupted into flame, including Tiberius himself.
“I come by my nickname honestly.” said Santiago as Tiberius went
screaming into Final Death. “And as for your nickname, Scandalmonger, you will
learn no more secrets and trigger no more scandals. About us or about your
Prince.”
Friday, June 20, 2014
PbN Act One Chapter Three - Iris
The car pulled to a mostly-gentle stop, but not
so gentle that Michael was not jostled about in his hiding place. He was awake,
which told him that the sun was already down, and the stopping car told him
that they were probably at their destination.
Michael unzipped the light-proof body bag he’d
allowed himself to be transported within. It was undignified, but necessary.
The trunk of the car came open and Michael looked up to see Corwin and Keiko
both standing there.
“We are here.” announced Keiko.
Michael sat up and stepped out of the trunk. He
looked around to a sight he had not laid eyes on in over seven years: Danner Meadow Park in Charleston , West Virginia . Better known to the
local neighborhood as “The Landfill.”
As a vampire, Michael had no need to breathe,
but he sucked in a breath nonetheless, savoring and tasting the remembered
familiarity in the air. “I’m home.” he mused quietly.
“What are your instructions, master?” asked
Keiko.
Almost a week had passed since Michael’s fateful
conversations with Virgil, Donna, and Keiko herself. When Michael had made his
request of his newest thrall, she made the arrangements to come home that next
weekend. They’d left before dark, making all the necessary precautions to keep
Michael out of sunlight. They’d made other precautions and plans as well.
Corwin was traveling as Keiko’s new boyfriend, a good cover that explained his
presence here. They were also going to use the park as a temporary haven for
Michael. It was used somewhat infrequently and Michael could find a nook or
cranny somewhere out of sight to bed down in the body bag during the day.
“I should probably meet go meet my parents.”
Keiko continued. “They should be at the restaurant now.”
Michael nodded. “Do that. I’m going to make for
my parent’s home. I’ll meet you two back here later tonight. If I have need of
you, I will summon you to me.”
“Be careful, Michael.” said Corwin. “We do not
who or what rules the night here.”
“It is demons of memory and emotion that I fear
this night, not flesh and blood.” Michael admitted. “But there is no sense
waiting any longer. I will see you both later.”
---
Michael went on foot. Again his vampire
abilities aided him in this endeavor. When out of sight of mortal eyes, he
could move with a swiftness no human could match, but regardless he also never
tired, even while climbing the hilly yards and streets of his old South Hills
neighborhood.
He reached his destination fairly quickly and he
was unprepared for the emotions of seeing his old home again for the first time
in years. The house was dark; his parents were clearly out for the evening. To
its left was the home of Keiko’s parents, well-lit with the car parked out
front. They emerged a moment later, heading off to their rendezvous with their
daughter and her new “beau.” Michael kept out of sight.
To the right of Michael’s old home was another
darkened residence. This was where Rebecca had once lived. He decided that
would be his first destination.
Michael glanced up to the attic window on the
Phillips residence. That had been her room. What would he find there? The
questions began in his mind and so without any further hesitation Michael made
to find his answers.
Again, using his vampire powers, he scaled the
side of the house like a spider. He reached the window and gave it a gentle
shove. It gave way under his hand; the family clearly saw no need to lock a
window so far up. Michael stepped inside and looked around.
He saw her bed, her desk, her dresser. Posters
on the wall. Again, he sucked in a breath and savored the smell of the place:
somewhat musty, but still familiar. Then he realized. It was exactly as he had
remembered it. Exactly! Not one thing was changed.
Everything was precisely where it was the last
time he’d been in this room. All perfectly preserved, as if Rebecca’s family
expected her to show up anytime and reclaim what was hers. Michael walked over
to her desk. There were applications there, unfinished, for community colleges.
Each one dated 1992.
The whole room was as if frozen in time. Michael
went to the dresser next. He opened a drawer or two and immediately recognized
outfits that she had worn in times past, still neatly folded in their place.
“It’s a shrine.” Michael said aloud,
interpreting what he was seeing. “A shrine to her memory.” He walked to her
bed, savoring a memory of his desire for her. He remembered fantasies, dreams,
hopes, of sharing that bed with her. Michael had, of course, been sexually
intimate with Rebecca after her embrace as a vampire, but the remembered fantasy
was tempered little by that reality. There was something innocent in it,
something genuine.
“Was it really?” Michael interrupted his own
reverie. “Or was it a ‘high school crush blown way out of proportion?’” He spat
out with great anger Sarah’s assessment of his relationship with Rebecca. Those
words had burned in his memory for years now, largely because they were true.
“Life was simpler then.” he admitted. “Easier
and more honest. I thought I had it all figured out, only to discover since
that I didn’t know shit…about anything.”
He looked about the room one more time. “No. I
can’t go back to this and I don’t want to.” he said aloud. “This shrine
represents something that will never be again. There is no truth here. Only
denial of the truth.” He went to the window and jumped to the ground below.
Getting into his parents’ home would be
trickier. There would be no unlocked windows here. His father was ever cautious
about security. “Too many embarrassing
secrets,” Michael half-joked in his mind. Michael knew a trick or two
however. He jumped up onto the back patio and slid his hand under the deck
table. Sure enough, the old key to the patio door was still there.
He made his way into the dining room from the
back porch and then turned to his left to go down the small hallway to his old
bedroom. In contrast to what he saw at the Phillips household, here the room
had been totally remodeled and refurbished. Nothing at all remained of his
sanctuary for so many years of his life.
Across the hall was his sister’s room and he
found it likewise radically altered. Nothing of hers remained either.
There was a part of Michael that wasn’t
surprised by this, yet it was still a shock to see. His running commentary that
he began in the Phillips household was now silent before the evidence he now
witnessed: His parents had erased him and Miranda from their lives entirely.
That suspicion was only confirmed further when
he stepped out into the living room. Not a single picture of either sibling was
present. The walls that lined the staircase to the upper floor were covered
with old family photos, but it was of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.
None of his sister or of Michael himself.
Michael’s internal voice slowly began to speak
again. “Of all the things I thought I’d
find…”
Sounds outside shook Michael from his reverie. A
car had pulled into the driveway outside. Michael stepped into the stairwell
and willed the shadows to mask his presence. As he faded from sight, he could
hear two voices he’d not heard in years: his mother and father were outside.
They came inside, chatting away and oblivious to
Michael’s presence. Michael, for his part, was thankful for the obfuscating
power he’d stolen from The Djinn, but he was not thankful to find himself now
face-to-face with these people. As painful as seeing the house was, seeing them
in the flesh was worse.
They were talking about the meal; Michael
presumed they had just come from dinner. “You know,” his mother began,” that
tenderloin was just the way Michael used to like it.”
Hearing his Mom utter his name had soothing
effect on Michael’s soul, but his reaction brought back almost immediate all
the turmoil he’d felt since walking inside that place.
“What did I tell you about mentioning him?”
growled his Dad. His dad turned and shoved closer to his mom, using his body to
intimidate her. “Do we have to have this argument again? We have no children.”
“You know…” His father’s hand slapped his mother
into silence.
Michael exploded into rage in that moment. It
took every once of his will to not leap out and tear his father limb from limb.
It would have been so easy, with his powers, his strength. But, by some
miracle, he reigned in that impulse and acted upon another.
He jumped from his perch and tackled his father,
knocking him off his feet. Such an aggressive move instantly broke Michael’s
invisibility, which he turned to his advantage, channeling his will and the
power of his blood into another stolen power, his vampiric sovereignty.
Fangs and claws, he stood before them like a
nightmarish demon from hell itself. His father and mother both screamed in
abject terror, before Michael cloaked himself once more and vanished from their
sight.
Michael used his celerity to exit with great
haste. He made his way back to the Landfill to await the return of his
servants.
---
It was a few hours before Keiko and Corwin
returned. Michael used the time to process all that he had seen. He’d learned a
thing or two that he’d never known before. His mother was as much a victim of
his father as anyone else, but she had chosen to stay behind in spite of what
appeared to be an accelerating cycle of abuse. His disappearance and (he
presumed) his sister’s still unknown sins had broken their marriage
irrevocably. And yet his mother stayed.
Cowardice, he called it. Walking away was the
braver course and the right one. Michael no longer doubted about that. For his
part, he had done the right thing. He knew that now. Taking what Deborah
offered him, becoming kindred, was clearly one of the best decisions of his
life.
There was a moment of regret that he hadn’t
taken a few precious seconds to drain his father of his life blood, an act of
pure vicious spite. Michael remembered writing in one of his novels about a son
killing his father and wondered briefly what it would be like to actually do
it. Of course, that story also included chapter after chapter of that son’s
guilt and regrets over what he had done. No, Michael decided, there was enough
blood on his hands. Leaving his parents to their miseries was also the better
path. And in many ways, the crueler.
Corwin’s car pulled in a few minutes after those
thoughts and Michael stood up to greet his friends. Corwin walked over. “So,
what did you find?” he asked casually.
Michael’s glare must have been one to melt glass
because Corwin immediately shrank from him. “Alright. Wrong question. Your
business.” Corwin responded submissively.
“I want to find my sister.” Michael said. He
looked at Keiko. “Where might we start to do that?”
Keiko shrugged, but tried to answer. “Hard to
say. She could be anywhere in the city or not even here at all anymore. But I
do know one thing. There’s usually a wild bonfire most every Friday night after
the football games at John Adams. Most everyone who’s into that scene from this
part of town goes to it. While she may or may not be there too, you can
probably guess someone is there who will know how to find her.”
Something about Keiko’s story struck Michael as
odd. John Adams was Michael’s old junior high school. A wild raucous party on
school property, sanctioned apparently by someone in authority, stunk of
supernatural influence. That wasn’t the sort of scene for a mage or werewolf,
but a changeling feeding off the emotions of revelry or a vampire seeking prey
would find that right up their alley.
There was another issue, although Michael had to
admit to himself if he wasn’t exaggerating the danger somewhat. What if someone
there recognized him?
Still, it was their only lead.
“Let’s head over to JA and see what’s what.”
---
The Friday night football game was just wrapping
up as they pulled in. That gave the three of them a perfect chance to check out
whoever was setting things up. Michael scanned about, looking for whatever
shadowy influence might be behind this party, but he saw nothing out of the
ordinary. No kindred. No fae. No nothing other than a bunch of high school and
college age kids getting ready for a kegger.
The three of them joined in to help set up,
allowing them to ask questions about Miranda. No one had seen anyone that
matched his sister’s description. In return, they received some queries about
themselves. Who were they? A few recognized Keiko, so they were able to spin
that into a story about how she was home for the weekend and had brought a
couple of friends up with her from college. (Not far from the truth.)
It was not long before the crowd began to
thicken. If anything, Keiko had underestimated the significance of this party.
There must have been over a hundred people there and it was still growing
larger. And the make-up of the crowd was quite varied. It was young, but not
all that young. There were more than a few of Corwin’s age amidst the college
aged and the high schoolers.
A huge bonfire marked the center of the
festivities. Michael kept his distance and the Beast within him was grateful
for that. He poured himself a beer and began to mingle, couching his queries
about his sister as a “lost connection,” someone he claimed to have met there
another time and wanted to find again.
Time and again, he got the same answer. If
anyone would know about a girl at the party, “they” would. No one said anything
further about who “they” were, but Michael now knew without any doubt that the
party’s mysterious master would put in an appearance at some point.
Michael made his way over to Keiko and Corwin.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two really were a couple.” He
admitted to them.
“Well, her folks think we’re out for the late
movie.” Said Corwin.
“They wanted to put a curfew on me, but then I reminded
them that I’m 18 with a full ride scholarship. Then they just asked us to not
wake them when we came home.”
Michael laughed at that. “Any luck?” he asked,
changing the subject.
“Some.” Said Keiko. “A couple folks said the
organizers of this affair keep pretty good tabs on who comes to it. They might
know something.”
“With such a vast crowd, I’m curious as to how
they do that.” Wondered Corwin aloud.
“Thralls.” Said Michael coldly. “This is a
vampire’s hunting ground and his or her servants are in the mix of this crowd,
cataloging anyone they think doesn’t belong.”
“No doubt, we’ve all been marked as strangers.”
Said Corwin.
“And the vampire will be here soon.”
“Maybe that’s him now.” Said Keiko, looking
beyond the crowd towards the baseball diamond where many of the guests had
parked their cars. Michael followed her gaze to see an Acura NSX pull in. Even
for the affluent neighborhood of South Hills, that car stood out. Two people
stepped out, a man and a woman, and made their way towards the party.
With his vampire senses, Michael could tell
neither of them was a vampire. But these were as good a candidate for “them” as
they were going to find. The man was big and muscular and had all the hallmarks
of a bodyguard. The woman was also tall, beautiful, and dressed to show off her
assets. Her hair was platinum blonde, but it didn’t look quite right with the
rest of her; bottle job, Michael concluded.
“Keep sharp.” Said Michael. “I think the advance
guard just arrived.” He then wandered off to another part of the field to
mingle there.
Not ten minutes later, Michael found himself
face-to-face with the blonde woman. Now that he was up close to her, he could
take her in much more fully. Blue eyes, full lips, and a cool sexiness to her.
But there was something about her that said she was here for business, not
pleasure.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun.” Michael
teased, turning on his vampire charm.
She softened somewhat. “I might in a minute.
First, you and I need to talk.”
“About what?” asked Michael casually.
“You’re a stranger here.”
“Not really. I used to go to school year…a long
time ago.”
“Oh?” That seemed to intrigue her. “Folks tell
me you’ve been asking questions. Looking for someone.”
“Yeah, well,” Michael played the part of a nonchalant
partygoer to the hilt. “I met this girl at this thing one another time. I was
just checking about to see if she was still around.”
“Her name?”
Michael decided not to tip his hand too early.
“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know. We had a nice little tryst over there,”
he pointed to the nearby woods, “but after it was over she walked away without
telling me that. People were saying that there’d be folks here later that might
be able to help me. Maybe that’s you. She’d be about mid-20s, tall like you,
brown hair, blue eyes, almost grey.” He paused to gauge the woman’s reaction,
and then hastily added. “Got a couple of my friends asking about her too.
Helping me out.”
The woman took it all in without a change of
expression. Then a sly smile crossed her lips. Michael had the momentary
feeling that he was a fly in a spider’s web, but when the spider was as pretty
and sexy as the woman before him, he didn’t mind so much.
“I don’t think that girl is still around.” She
said. “Forget about her.” The woman closed in on Michael and put her arms
around his neck. “You could do better.”
Michael realized immediately that he was being
baited. The woman had found a hole in his story somewhere and was now trying to
keep him occupied until her master showed up. This could be fun, Michael
reasoned, so he played along. “I suppose I could.”
“Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more private?”
“This night is looking up.” Said Michael with a
chipper tone. He finished his beer and followed the woman out of the crowd
towards the woods. They got about halfway there when she gave him a hard shove
from behind.
Michael hit the ground and rolled over, ready to
fend off an attack. But the woman sat down on top of him and pulled her shirt
off. She immediately leaned over and began to smother his face in kisses.
Michael responded by running his hands up and down the sides of her belly,
taking in the feel of her skin.
She pulled back and reached behind her to undo
her bra. “You startled me there.” Michael said. “I thought someone had jumped
me.”
“I did,” The bra came away and the woman reached
behind her to grab Michael’s hardening manhood through his pants. “but only to
get this.” Michael took in her breasts; they were not too large, nor too small.
Nicely average.
Michael reached up to massage her breasts. “You
know, I’m starting to think this is going to turn out like last time. A
wondrous moment with a stranger whose name I never learn.”
“Miranda,” the woman admitted. “My name is
Miranda.”
A vampire is typically pale of skin due to their
undead nature, but upon hearing his sister’s name come out of the woman’s
mouth, Michael undoubtedly turned even more so. He looked hard at her face. He
hadn’t seen her in seven years. Could it be?
It was. It had to be.
“Eat me.” She purred, sliding forward on his
chest so that her crotch was now inches from his face. Her black panties did
nothing to mask the scent of her arousal and Michael suddenly found himself in
a quandary he’d never imagined he’d ever be in. He’d broken many sexual taboos in
his time as a vampire, but incest was definitely not one of them.
And yet, Michael didn’t want to stop. He reached
up to do as she asked when fate intervened.
“Boss,” she said, “you’ve arrived.”
“And I see you’re enjoying yourself.” Said
another voice, a man’s voice.
Miranda stood up. Michael was somewhat thankful
that she’d just robbed him of his prize, disturbed at what he was very much so
willing to do. “This is one asking questions.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard.”
Michael came to his feet and stared down the new
arrival. There was no doubting it; he was face to face with another vampire.
“You are an intruder in my domain.” Growled the
vampire.
“And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“I am Bryce Erickson, Prince of Charleston and
you are not welcome here.”
“No, I suppose I’m not.” Replied Michael, “but
I’m looking for answers and once I have them you can have your city all to
yourself again.”
Bryce backhanded Michael. The blow was powerful,
clearly the Charleston Prince had used the power of his blood to enhance his
strength well beyond human limits. Michael went sprawling.
“You do not get to dictate terms to me,
intruder.”
Now Michael was angry. “Oh, bad move on your
part, whelp.” He snarled.
“Whelp? You dare insult me?”
“Yes, and more besides.” Michael came to his
feet. “You’re nothing. A piss-ant Prince in a backwater hermitage. You don’t
have a single clue who I am or what you’ve just unleashed. I am slayer of the
Mad Bishop of Lynchburg, of the samurai Hiroshi Takagi. I who drank the heartsblood
of the dreaded Djinn of Roanoke. I was Primogen of Hampton.” Michael drew out
his tanto dagger. “Who am I? I am Michael Allens of Roanoke .”
There was a squeak of shock and surprise from
Miranda as Michael rushed in on Bryce. The Prince made to defend himself, but
he was no match for a vampire of Michael’s skill and experience. Michael
slipped under Bryce’s defense and drove the dagger up through the Prince’s chin
and yanked him a full foot off the ground. He tossed the Prince down field. Bryce’s
body turned to ash before he even hit the ground.
“Asshole.” Snarled Michael. He then looked down
at the dagger in his hand and realized something. In all the times he’d killed
an enemy vampire in combat, he’d never struck a blow like the one he’d just
delivered; never once slew another kindred with a single strike quite like
that. Momentarily impressed with himself, he slid the dagger back under his
jacket and then turned towards Miranda.
She was beside herself with emotion. Michael
suspected that most of it was the shock that came when a thrall is suddenly and
violently released from a blood bond. All the emotions and thoughts that the
bond normally suppressed were said to come rushing out all at once. Still, even
with all that, Michael was also quite certain that at least some of his
sister’s emotional chaos was due to the fact that she’d just now nearly fucked
her own brother without knowing it.
Michael walked over and then knelt down next to
her. She was so overwhelmed with her feelings of rage, sorrow, humiliation, and
whatever else that it seemed she didn’t even notice him approach. He took her
chin in hand and turned her head so she had no choice but to look him in the
eye.
“Miranda.” He said her name to force her
attention upon him. The emotions behind her eyes calmed somewhat as she took
him in. She said nothing.
“So this is where you ended up.” Michael
commented. “Some kindred’s…” Michael paused to find the right word. Several of
the options that popped through his mind sounded exceedingly harsh and
judgmental: plaything, fucktoy, slut, and a few others equally uncomplimentary.
Michael could hear his father’s hypocrisy in his own mind and that, more than
anything else, disgusted him. “…servant.” He settled on that.
“And this is what happened to you. You became
one of them.” She said.
“You didn’t recognize me.” Said Michael.
“You didn’t me either.” That admission seemed to
settle the matter of their incestuous near-miss.
“But you did know I was a vampire. You did lure
me over here for a reason. You did make yourself bait for a trap. All so your
master could come along and kill me. Am I right?” Michael squeezed on her chin
with a little extra force for emphasis.
“So what am I to do with you for that, dear sister?”
“You will not touch her.” Said a voice from
behind him. A voice he recognized, another he’d not heard in many years.
“Todd Sexton,” said Michael, his eyes never
leaving his sister. “Seems I’m in for all sorts of fun reunions tonight.”
Michael turned away from Miranda to lock eyes with a Todd different than he
remembered. Older, wiser, more grizzled. “You seem not to have learned much
from our last encounter, have you?”
“Oh, I have. I know what you are. You’re like
that one over there.” Todd motioned towards the pile of dust that had been the
Prince of Charleston. “You’re like her. You haven’t aged a day since high
school. You’re a monster. No longer human and I will not let you hurt Miranda.”
Michael smiled, admitting to himself that he was
actually impressed with his old nemesis. The Todd he remembered was a bully and
a coward. That bully was the same Michael had once beat within an inch of his
life near Lane Stadium back in Blacksburg many years ago. But the
man he saw now was not like that. No, this Todd, fully aware of what Michael was
capable of, showed no sign of fear, no evidence of cowardice or bravado. He
meant every word he said. Michael stood up.
“You killed my brother.” Todd growled. “You
nearly killed me once. But I will not let you touch her again.”
“Then stop me.” Taunted Michael.
Todd rushed forward and threw a punch at
Michael. It was clumsy and poorly aimed, evidence of a simple brawler rather
than a trained fighter. Michael dodged aside. He deftly dodged the follow-up
swing as well. And the one after that.
“Stand still, you son-of-a-bitch.” Snarled Todd.
Okay, clearly that hadn’t changed. Todd’s infamous temper was coming out at his
frustration at not being able to land a blow.
Michael decided to humor him. “Fine.” He said
and he stopped dodging. Todd rained blow after blow down on Michael, none
having much effect against Michael’s undead flesh. After a few moments, Michael
decided to stop humoring him. He shot a low uppercut into Todd’s belly,
knocking the wind out of him and doubling him over. Todd pitched into the dirt.
“If I wanted to kill either of you there is very
little you could do to stop me.” Emphasized Michael. He leaned over the stunned
Todd. “But there is something that I want from you. Two things, in fact.”
Michael grabbed Todd by the collar and pulled him back onto his feet.
“The first.” He said coldly. He willed his
vampire charisma to its sovereign level. “You mentioned ‘her.’ Unless I miss my
guess, there’s only one other vampire you could be talking about. One other
you’d know hasn’t aged since her high school days. Where is she?”
“Kill me and get it over with.” Todd said
defiantly. That also impressed Michael. Few could resist the power of vampiric
charisma cranked up to 11 like Michael was doing, not even other kindred.
“You’ve seen Rebecca. Tell me where!” Michael
demanded.
“I was driving truck.” Said Todd, his will
collapsing from the onslaught of Michael’s power. “Had a day to myself in Philadelphia , so I went down to South Street where all the action
happens. Saw her in a club called Gothic something or other. That’s where she
is. That’s where you’ll find her.”
Michael let him go. “Thank you.” He said
sincerely. “And now for the second thing I want of you. You want to protect my
sister? Then protect her. The monster who made a slave of her is ash just a few
feet from us. Our parents have thrown her out and show no sign of ever
retracting that cruelty. And I, as you’ve keenly noted, am a monster out of
human nightmare. So she has no one else. If you mean anything of what you’ve
said tonight, then you’re all she has.”
Michael turned to Miranda briefly and looked her
in the eyes. Then he nodded farewell and headed back to the bonfire crowd to
collect his friends.
---
Jason Hayes, sophomore at the University of Pennsylvania , wandered the hallways
looking for a suitable room. As a student, he’d heard rumors of the Raven
Society, a “secret society” of alumni and other VIPs around the city. He never
knew this Society was responsible for “Hell Hotel” and a whole slew of other
Halloween festivities around the city. He also never expected to be invited to
one of their galas.
But here he was; he and a half dozen others from
universities around the city. Here at the invitation of the Society’s secretive
master, known only as “Lord Caligula.” The best and the brightest, he was told,
is the reason he had been chosen.
It didn’t take Jason long to realize he was in
an alien world. The combined incomes of the small handful of society members
that he spoke to in the main ballroom could have purchased a third world
country, perhaps several. Likewise, his peers seemed to be from moneyed
families; they hailed from the wealthiest of neighborhoods throughout the
northeast and New England . He felt rather out of
place.
But then, “Queen Mary” had gone above and beyond
to make him feel welcome. Like all the formal members of the society, she wore
a mask to hide her face and like all the supposed Inner Circle , she used a pseudonym
instead of her real name. But for all the obfuscation, Jason could tell a few
things. Mid-40s, but in excellent shape. C-cup. A head of curly red hair. A
black and red dress that fit her curves like a glove. She was the perfect MILF
and now it seemed almost a foregone conclusion he would experience all that
acronym implied before the night was over.
“Here.” she said. She was right behind him,
following him eagerly to find a secluded spot for a quick passionate tryst.
Jason turned and looked within. It was a simple, but well furnished, salon.
Bookcases, Victorian era furniture that Jason suspected cost as much as his
parent’s home. He glanced up and down the hall to see if any had followed them
from the grand ballroom. There was no one, so they slipped inside.
Jason glanced at one of the bookcases. The books
within were a mix of old and new. Many of the authors he recognized: Burrows, Crowley , LaVey, along with many
others he did not know. All, he realized, were connected in some way to the
occult, to witchcraft, and to other not-very-mainstream philosophies.
“Interesting set of...” he began to say, turning
back to his companion. But he stopped mid-sentence, because Queen Mary had
taken advantage of his distraction with the books to slip out of her dress. She
now stood before him naked as the day she was born. All exposed, save for the
mask.
Jason took her in. She was everything his
fantasies imagined and his arousal manifested with an uncomfortable tightness
in his pants. Noticing his demeanor, Queen Mary stepped closer.
“You could have lost the mask too.” Jason
managed to stutter out as she began to undress him in turn.
“Our rules are there for a reason.” she
emphasized. “You don’t know who I really am. But you can guess who I could be.
A business owner. A member of city council. A trustee of the university. Or the
wife of any of the above. We come here to the Raven Society to discard who we
are to the wider world and to do the things society would scandalize us for.
Imagine the headline: Prominent citizen accused of affair with college
student.” She pulled off Jason’s pants and shoved him gently, now fully nude
himself, onto a divan.
Jason figured she’d start slow, perhaps with her
mouth, but she crawled on top of him and impaled herself upon him. His head
arched back in ecstasy as she took him. “Woah!” he exclaimed. “This is unreal.
I can’t believe you’re real.”
“Enjoy it.” she advised as she bobbed up and
down upon him. “I know I am, you beautiful boy.”
They went on with their lovemaking for a number
of minutes before the door to the salon came open. “Woah!” yelped Jason with
surprise.
“Ah, Queen Mary,” said the man who’d barged in.
It was Lord Caligula and with him was a young lady, another of the gathered
college students. Jason expected an apology next, but instead the masked man
said “May we join you?”
“Of course.” agreed Mary before Jason could
object. The two newcomers came inside and closed the door behind them.
Jason tried to look past Mary to get a better
look at the interlopers. Caligula was as he was when he’d welcomed them all to
the party. Tall, dark, with a bass voice, a scraggly beard dangling below his
mask. The girl he recognized from the party: a Haverford student who’d
introduced herself as Mariah. She was pretty, dark hair, blue eyes.
“Mariah!” Jason called out.
“Jason?” she replied, surprised to see him
underneath the nude form of Queen Mary.
“Ah, you’ve met?” said Caligula. “That’s good.
Perhaps you’d rather someone your own age got you warmed up for me.” He waved
his hand across her face and her eyes changed, gaining a laser focus on Jason
and Jason alone.
“Yes, I think I’d like that.” Said Mariah.
Taking that as a cue, Queen Mary slid off of
Jason and walked over to Lord Caligula. Mariah pulled off her own dress, knelt
down, and took Jason in her mouth.
If Jason thought his luck before was astounding,
he could barely imagine the sight before him now. First Mary and now Mariah,
both having wild unbridled passionate sex with him. With him! Who was he to
have this luck? He was nobody. Just a kid out of Bryn Mawr who landed at UPenn
on a scholarship. His family was well-off, but not like these people. He was
smart, but not like some of his classmates. He was decently good looking, but
no Adonis; he’d had a few girlfriends here and there, but none as willing and
eager as these two strangers were tonight.
Behind Mariah, Mary began to undress Caligula.
As it was with her, she did not remove his mask. Caligula then went to his
knees behind Mariah, lining up to enter her from behind.
Mariah paused but for a moment when Caligula did
so. She then returned to Jason.
“Oh, you don’t get all the fun, sweetie.” said
Mary, moving back over to Jason and giving Mariah a shove aside. “I want his
seed.”
Mary mounted Jason again, facing him. He felt
his climax building. Mary looked back at Caligula and gave him a brief nod.
Jason exploded inside her. “Ah, what a wonderful
gift.” she said. Jason thought that odd. “And now another gift. A life for our
Dark Master.”
Jason had only the briefest moment to wonder
what she meant when Mary grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head hard to
one side. Mary lunged in and bit down hard. Where there had been ordinary teeth
just a moment before, now there were fangs, fangs that pierced into his flesh.
Fangs that tore that flesh away. Blood sprayed from the wound.
Mariah screamed, but Caligula wrapped his arms
around her tightly and began thrusting all the more vigorously, as if the scene
of carnage before them aroused him all the more. Mary drank Jason’s blood in
massive gulps. The UPenn student convulsed and then slid lifelessly to the
floor.
Mary stood up. “Your turn.” she said to
Caligula. Mariah continued screaming.
“One...moment...more...” he grunted as he grew
closer to his own climax. He waved his hand again and brought it across
Mariah’s throat. The narrowest of cuts appeared, as if he’d drawn a razor
across. It blossomed red for the briefest moment and then the blood began to
flow freely.
Caligula erupted in sexual climax. “A life for
our Dark Master.” he said aloud. He pulled out and let go. Mariah dropped to
the floor, her hands grasping at her slit throat, desperately trying to both
gasp for air and stop the bleeding. But to no avail. Her body convulsed a few
times and then lay still.
The lights in the room dimmed and low grumble
could be heard throughout. “He is pleased.” said Caligula.
“You’re so wasteful.” complained Mary, leaning
down to lap up some of Mariah’s blood from the floor.
“Our Master demands only the life. The rest he
leaves to us.” reminded Caligula. He turned back to the door and opened it. A
servant stood outside, as if expecting the very summons he was now receiving.
“Ah, good, Demetrius, tell the cooks we have some fresh meat for them.
Tomorrow’s banquet should be exquisite.”
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