Belphegor puts on his mask, strutting into the building, the bouncers not bothering with identification. The mask he dons is more than enough as proof. With long purple wisps that intertwine around his lower face dusted with black silk and a Cheshire grin interlaced with gold, it is a mask fit for royalty.
It started out as an interest, this gourmet club many spoke of and then it became entertainment and eventually a source of food. It was an interest of their concept for butchering their pray by using scrappers and serving up the remains on such sophisticated plates with wine glasses full of crimson blood. Such an interesting place, one where ghouls imitated the high class, one he found highly amusing. for none of these peasants would know the true tastes of royalty. Surely, he would bring Mammon next time he came, something he deemed enjyable.
Looking down at the newest course he sees a foreigner with amber eyes, soft supple skin with tangy blood running underneath. A young scrapper appears in the death cage, Juuzou Suzuya, a personal favorite of his. After such a long while, the scrawny boy began to take pleasure in maiming his prey, something Bel enjoyed to watch. Perhaps it was because in Juuzou he saw a bit of himself?
As the early evening continued on, he enjoys the show; soon the food is served. His stomach becomes satisfied. With this he takes his leave and disregards his mask.
Mammon guides Fran through the crowded streets, their presence masked by illusions. Continuing a ways down Mammon silently picks out her prey and begins to lead him into an alleyway. Fran takes this as his cue to take his leave. He begins his journey through the streets away from the ally.
Finally taking a look, Mammon discovers herself to be faced with young male with a decent job. Mammon notes once she began to prod through her meal's memory. This was the type she enjoyed most. With his death, she gains money and satiates her hunger.
Slowly she fills the young man's head with thoughts of depression and suicide. The fear within his mind grew and grew; with such simple monsters one would be willing to take their own life. Right down to the point, something Mammon enjoyed immensely. And so, she fed, calmly and orderly, something so very rare in a ghoul. Soon enough, his bank account was also devoured.
Fran on the other hand wound up at a near by cafe. Anteiku was a small cafe run by a pedophile old man with a creepy smile. It was a cafe run by ghouls for ghouls. Even as creepy as the old man was, the coffee was tasty. The gloomy little girl behind the counter on the other hand wasn't cute at all.
Sparring with new recruits was always Lussuria's favorite part the week. Every now and then, a very attractive man would be among the ranks that would drive him oh so crazy.
It starts off as a slow and sexy tango. Exchanging blow for blow, leaving marks littering his once clear skin. The dance escalates into a face paced waltz. Wounds begin to caress him. Beginning as small cuts, to shallow gashes evolving into mortal wounds. The walls, now decorated by a lovely crimson and a scent so strong it drove him wild.
The room would empty due to the gore and the husk of a man would be lying there, so cold and unmoving. It became simply irresistible to Lussuria. The lust within him would creep up and he was gone. Him and the man covered in a delicious red.
When Lussuria would come to he'd finally notice the room once again covered in blood and the body before him severely mutilated. He'd be left with such a feeling of bliss and entrance. It was the greatest feeling he could ever have when feasting. Shame though, he wasn't really hungry this time.
Merry Christmas DarkIceAngelFlare! I could not picture Levi, Xanxus or Squalo as ghouls so sadly they are missing from the fic, for now. Hopefully this doesn't disappoint too much!
Posted: 12/25/14
