Disclaimer: Venom. Mine. Everyone else, nadda.
Welcome to "In My Empty Arms"! I'm your host/writer, WhatAboutToday!
Couple: ZexionXDemyx. WOO! for the Zemyx!
Warning: This is a Vampire fic, meaning blood is obvious and gore is likely. Character death is also likely (like- really likely) so please don't kill me when it happens. My rating is mostly because I honestly don't know how one could possibly write about vampires for the reading of children. -sweatdrops- Any-who, onwards! XD (and enjoy)
In My Empty Arms
xXChapter One: The DreamerXx
He walked through the ever crowded streets of that dreaded city, glancing around him at the hoards of people, all eagerly awaiting midnight. He stood in the center of the square, surrounded and ignored, wondering vaguely what was so special about the night. Surely, all this commotion was not about the coming of the new century?
The lone man tutted at the foolishness of the humans, licking his dry lips agitatedly. "People, people everywhere, but not a drop to drink," he muttered to himself, shoving his way passed some young couples, arms laced together, preparing for the New Year. He released himself from the tight group hastily, feeling a migraine creep upon his being. He hardly watched where he walked, grumbling a little at the annoyance of it all.
He had seen the century turn before, and doubtlessly, it was really nothing special. All these little 'celebrations' did was to remind him of his 'sins' and the ages over which he had withered away into his current being. Feeding off of the souls of the humans… of the normal. It disgusted him.
Turning a corner, past a particularly dark alley, the fretting man halted abruptly, sniffing the air soundlessly. He turned, growling at the figure that now stood before him, light gracing enough features for recognition, although much of who it was remained shielded by the shadows of the evening street.
"Well, Hello, Schemer," She purred smirking at him devilishly. "Out of a little walk?" She stepped further into the light, revealing her immense beauty, and the identity the man had already known.
"Venom," Schemer hissed, mussels tensing of their own will, holding his ground ferociously.
Venom was a tall and beautiful woman, terror inducing as she was radiant. Her long hair was viciously straight and so black it was very nearly violet, long strands framing her narrow face. Vivid blue eyes, light enough to be considered silver glowed behind very thick eyelashes, brows arched delicately in what might have been perceived as curiosity or mirth, however taunting their radiance could be to young men. Her skin was a rich mahogany hue, creamlike and smooth, adding to her allure. She stood upright and proudly, smiling evilly through red-painted lips.
Schemer growled, not at all taken to the scene before him.
The smile widened. "Or are you celebrating the times… With a feast?" She whispered the final word, grinning purposefully, leaning in just enough to draw the man's attention to her costume.
Clothed in long, rather tight pants in a dark burgundy hue and a collared blouse top, unbuttoned to expose just enough of her plentiful bosom, the dark woman looked enticingly flawless, yet heavily out of acceptable dress for the era.
Schemer sneered disdainfully. "You look ridiculous." He spat, glaring harshly when the woman chuckled.
"You like it?" she asked sarcastically. "I made it myself; preparing for the new times to come!"
"Women do not dress like that." Schemer protested. "Nor have they ever. You make a mockery of yourself."
She brushed off the comment with a wave of her hand. "I am hardly noticed."
Schemer scoffed, rolling his eyes, although but one of them was visible do to his very overgrown cobalt hued fringe, shielding the right side deep steel-blue orb from view entirely. He was a great contrast to the other in appearance, with porcelain-like very pale skin, and a round, almost youthful face. He dressed himself conservatively, in black slacks and a long coat, matching in hue, which allowed him to blend seamlessly with the people in the city.
"You deny that you are on the hunt?" She chided playfully, earning a stone hard glare from the other.
"It is not necessary to cleanse the streets on a daily basis, as I am certain you are fully aware."
Venom scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You act as though you don't enjoy yourself, but I see, your full belly, your lust at the screams." She sighed temptingly. "You can hardly contain it. Have you made a choice for this evening's main course yet?"
Schemer frowned darkly. "You have picked a person?"
"Of course!" The woman exclaimed, her eyes flashing devilishly in the moonlight. "He's a young and handsome fellow of proper breeding. Nothing sweeter than the taste of the riches of a youthful life, raised far from the filthy streets." She licked her full lips in a longing sort of way that caused Schemer's stomach to turn unpleasantly. "Oh, but that's right," She continued wickedly, "You don't hunt for such luxurious meats anymore, do you?"
She cackled when he glared in another direction, grinding his teeth irately. "Why do you pester me so? Be gone." He demanded. "This is far from your territory in any case."
"Oh, you know we hardly hold to the laws of territory anymore. This is a new age! And a great one at that, what with steam power and everything. Are you not excitable?"
"Not in the least bit."
Venom sighed. "You were more fun before you went all 'noble'. What happened to, 'I'll bet you a gold piece I can make that girl scream louder than you can'?"
"I grew up." Schemer deadpanned. "I suggest you consider doing the same."
She rolled her glowing eyes. "I'm getting bored with you," An air of arrogant excitement came to her face a split second later, mirroring the ill thoughts her mind had envisioned. "Maybe that boy will be more excitable."
"No, Venom." Schemer commanded harshly. "You must not turn a human for sport."
"Oh, yes," The woman spat, suddenly looking a bit more frightening and slightly less breathtaking than before. "Because that's what happened to you, isn't it? Just a little game, and now here you are, living off scum from the streets, preaching to others about the value of humanity." She brushed him off with a disdainful sound. "Well, you're preaching to the wrong choir. You can think as highly as you want of them, but it might just do you good to keep an eye on your own back as well. You think yourself a friend to the humans, but they will be the death of you. Mark my words."
Schemer hissed angrily, revealing razor-sharp fangs that glinted in the moonlight threateningly. Venom merely rolled her pretty eyes and faded back the way she came, off to find her prey no doubt, leaving the man to fume in the company of not but the night, the everlasting, agonizingly silent night.
xXTheDreamerXx
.:Twenty-Two Years Later:.
Her screams went utterly overlooked as the creature came upon her, lodging it's already dripping fangs deep into her neck. It was only moments before she was silenced forever. The vampire stood slowly, licking its bloody lips, sucking on its crimson stained teeth, fangs glinting feverishly in the dully throbbing moonlight.
It hissed darkly at the corpse-
"Demyx!"
The spoken to male jumped a foot off his bench, gasping at the call, his book flying into the air and landing with a thump on the dingy table before him.
"Demyx, you crazy harp!" The boy's only friend, Roxas Hart, a small, young boy with unruly light blond hair, bright blue eyes, and pink cheeks sat down across the table from him, laughing at his friend's jittery behavior.
"Beat it, Rox!" Demyx Christopher whined, replacing the book to its home in his hands, shuffling through for his page. He was a relatively tall youth, at about twenty-one or so years of age, with a mess of unevenly cut sandy blond hair and shining sea-green eyes that stood out amazingly against the grime of oil and sweat from work.
Roxas sighed, wiping the sweat from his own dirty brow. "You read too many dime novels."
"At least I read." Demyx shot back instantly.
Roxas frowned. "What would ya' need to do that for? I don't need to read to work here." He gestured in the general direction of the metal building behind his friend.
"And you really plan to work here forever?"
The younger blond shrugged. "Who knows?" His attention moved to something lying on the table. He snatched it up, causing the other to jump and shout. Roxas ignored his friend pointedly to take a good look at the photograph. "Eh, not bad," He teased, "Who's this doll?"
"Don't hurt it, Rox!" Demyx pleaded of the picture.
"I won't rip it up." Roxas insisted lazily. "That's some getup she's in… And look at her gams!" He whistled.
Demyx blushed heavily through the grime coating on his face. "Dry up!" He exclaimed, trying and failing to snatch the item back.
Roxas laughed goodheartedly. "She's the bee's knee's alright, but who is she, Dem?" He finally passed the note back.
Demyx stared at it for a long time, as if wishing it could come to life and speak to him. "Her name is Mariana Remington."
The younger male coughed suddenly in surprise. "Did you just say 'Remington'?" At the other's nod, Roxas sighed and shook his head. "Stop dreaming," he muttered, "You can't have a baby vamp like her, Dem. She's a Remington."
"So?"
Roxas sighed indignantly. "So that means she's the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in New York! You don't have anything to give her."
"I would love her faithfully."
"Well, yes, that's a good thing, but in every reality you are more than a little short on what matters: dough!" He took the book and the photograph from his friend, marking the page of one with the other and setting them on the table between himself and the older blond. "You've got a lot of life ahead of you, but you're dreaming it all away! Don't take any wood dimes, Demyx! Just stay where you're supposed to be, and you'll get through fine!"
"I don't want to get through fine," Demyx countered, snatching back his dime novel. "I want something better than that! This is America, Roxas. I'm not going to waste my opportunity." Roxas was absolutely steaming and appeared like he was about to retort, so the older blond whisked up what was left of his neglected lunch and carried off to an afternoon of factory work.
xXTheDreamerXx
Demyx walked across the Brooklyn Bridge on his way home from work, just like he did every evening. And just like every evening, he was thinking about his latest read.
There had been a girl, Marie, and her lover, Rufus. They had been wholly in love and even betrothed, but none of that really mattered. What was important was the monster in the story. Today's novel, not unlike many of the novels Demyx had been reading of late, had revolved around a suspicious demon character called a 'vampire'.
This creature of darkness lived by feasting off of the blood of human beings, surviving untouched by the sands of time for centuries invariably. However terror inducing the idea was, Demyx found it, like so many other dime novel readers, oddly romantic. He would never voice this opinion out loud, however, especially not to Roxas who was painfully down to earth and grounded, especially for someone as young as he, not yet having past the threshold into manhood: turning sixteen this spring.
The blond sighed tiredly. Tomorrow would be another day at work, and the day after that the same. This rut the man had fallen into was getting exceptionally dull, save for the precious moments where Demyx could stand in the fair Mariana's presence. She was just too beautiful, and though Roxas was probably right: he probably had no chance with her at all, the only thing holding his ever-waning hope alive was her amazing smile, and the anticipation that she might shine that treasure in his direction someday.
But the logical part of Demyx brought him back to reality all too soon. Someday was not today. Today was not good, and if he didn't make up the money he owed for those hospital trips his mother had needed in the past two years, tomorrow wasn't looking any less bleak.
He sighed again, pausing at the end of the bridge, leaning against the railing to look out into the unknown depths of the dark water, pondering.
He was unsure of when he had drifted off, but he was shaken back to reality when an unfamiliar voice spoke to him, "Excuse me sir," A stranger in a dark coat said, his hood up against the autumn chill, also concealing his face.
The blond jumped rather comically and gasped, "Y-yes sir?"
"I was wondering," The stranger was a man; this much was clear due to his voice, and a foreigner no doubt, if his odd accent was any testament. It sounded quite peculiar to the American native, who had only ever heard the accent of his mother, strong and obviously Irish, which this man was certainly not. He was a bit shorter than Demyx, but radiated an air of insightfulness that was almost eerie in the way the blond felt he should be very old. He was quite thin, and stood very straight as if he were a great businessman and not a poor immigrant. He dressed like a rich man too, and Demyx fidgeted slightly, afraid that he might be disgusting to the stranger in his filthy work shirt and faded, equally dirty trousers. "I am looking for a place called 'The Sleeping Indigo'. It's a theater that is said to be in this area, but I fear I have gotten myself a bit turned around."
"Oh, I know where that is, sir." Demyx replied politely, having regained his composure, "You're not as turned around as you think. Actually you're pretty close. Just keep going that way, to the next corner and make a right. It's on the far side of the street about halfway down the block. You can't miss it."
"Thank you, sir." The man said with a slight bow.
Demyx chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Any time, Mister. Have a nice night."
The man nodded in appreciation and began to walk away, only to turn back a few short steps later. "Please have a safe evening as well. The city streets have a reputation of being dangerous after night falls." The dark stranger advised, as if he knew much more than he could indulge. "It would be unfortunate if something were to happen to a young lad like yourself because you were dreaming on your feet."
Demyx nodded stiffly, and then watched the stranger walk until he turned the corner following Demyx's directions and was suddenly out of sight. The blond let out a slow breath. There was something odd about the man, and while the logical part of his mind (which had a tendency to sound an awful lot like Roxas) was telling him to forget it, his imagination reeled with questions, the most pressing of which being, 'Did I just meet a vampire?'
xXTheDreamerEndXx
AN: WOOWOO! Another new project! -grins- And this one is about vampires! 8D -giggles- I'm so excited! So, if you didn't catch it, this story is going to take place in New York, New York in 1922 respectively, in the very heart of the industrial revolution. This time period is known as 'The Roaring Twenties' for a number of reasons, not the least of which being the social life (jazz music and dancing was on the rise). Because I like to be realistic with my fantasy, I am currently researching life during this period, including slang terms, some of which I'm sure you noticed Roxas and Demyx using. Here's a list of some of the more unheard-of ones:
Harp: An Irishman. (Demyx's mother is Irish, and Roxas kids with him about it.)
Gams: Legs. (Roxas admires Demyx's crush's body.)
Dry up: Shut up, Get lost.
Bee's knee's: Great. (Roxas is saying that the picture is of a great girl.)
Baby vamp: A pretty or popular female.
Don't take any wood dimes: Don't do anything stupid. (Ah, Roxas, ever the voice of reason.)
So…. Yeah. I guess that just about covers it for this chapter….
Reviews are greatly appreciated, lots and lots, and I'd just like to know if there's an interest in this story. Thanks! -glomps- I actually have a written plan for this one (for once) so I'm not going to hold back updates if I don't get reviews, but you know all writers like to hear that someone is reading their work. I'm no different. (hint, hint) 8D
Oh, and one last thing: I can update in frequent short chapters, or less frequent longer ones. Is there a preference?