Back again my lovely readers. I hope you understand why I chose fire as Kendall's element. Gustavo's always saying he's the fire, and Kendall is always so passionate about whatever he does. It seems so fitting. Readers, it'll be up to you to figure out why I chose the element I did for the next three boys, based on you knowlegde and of course common sense. I'm confident in all of you. I would also like more reviews crtiquing my writings. I want to be a famous writer some day, I would like to know what I need to do to better my pieces so I can have a chance as a writer. Plus, I want to donate the proceeds of my book to fix up homeless shelters and make them good food to eat and buy them good clothes. Keep that in mind as you read another vampire fic, with a little Logan and Carlos thrown in for good measure.
Shadow
People come and go, sharing the stage in a play called your life before your psyche kills them off in the most grusome of ways, or decides that they go on to have a major role in the musical, theater play, or movie that your life resembles. In the end, your combined performances has the auidence gasping and crying for an encore, only to become disappointed because there's never an encore for life, not even for the undead. Too deep? I'm sorry, I have a tendency to use analogies that boggle the minds of mostly everyone; you would think I'd speak slower and in a more understandable way due to the mate I have. I guess I'll never learn... then again, I really don't fucking want to.
What I mean is people are variables. They can change, they can be added or taken away from your life, all depending on you and how you change. Only a select few stay with you through thick and thin, whethering the mood swings; the different phases of being a goth, a punk, or a hipster; and let's not forget the drug experimentation episode. Those elite people have earned the title of a true friend, and they evolve from a variable to a constant. Most people thrive to be a constant, but do not have the resolve, nor the heart.
True friends, or in this case, true partners are only found once in a lifetime and are cherished more than the finest cut ruby that is placed so precariously in the center of a ring that embodies the bond between you and that special someone. They are beauty in the rarest form, with a heart as pure as the whitest silk and a soul as free as the pheonix flying unhindered through the night sky. Their emotions burn as brightly as a pheonix's embers and you know they would never be capable of betrayal or strife. My Carlos, my wonderful Carlos, his innocence was honestly contagious and I loved it.
I have a heart, mind you, without it I could not love, nor even feel remorse for taking away the precious life blood flowing in an unsepecting human's veins. I have a right to survive as much as any mortal, I need to eat too. Yet the fact that I fed on people made it a crime. Why is that? I find it's because humans are full of themselves, wallowing in their own self-indulgent importance as the supposed top of the food chain. Carlos was never that way, and it amazed me that he wasn't. Then again, he was simply that... tantilizingly amazing.
It was a wonder how such a pure soul could be submitted to so much pain and anguish, still coming out as untainted as an infant. I should probably start at the beginning; tending to your confusion would be the best bet in getting you to understand how someone can grow and become constant in your life.
So I begin this story, found in the bloodiest of fairy tales. Listen closely, I hate repeating myself. Besides I'm sure you'll be intrigued by how I found him. It's like finding someone you love, with a mildly sinister twist of gore and minds disturbed beyond comprehension.
I had never met a creature more difficult to understand than man. They were ruthless, violent, hateful and yet, consenting, kind, and loving. They were contradictions, oxymorons, and just plain crazy all in the same instant, and of course they never had an explaination for why they were this way, they just were. These finite creatures were both fascinating and repelling all at the same time, and I admittedly loved watching their everyday antics.
I was a more docile vampire, finding humans intrguing. To me they were more than a food source and didn't have to die just because I was hungry. Famlies loved them, especially their children, and it amused me to watch something so innocent become something so malicious. Babes had it good, and through them it was made true that ignorance was bliss. They were the light in this dying world, they needed to be nutured. It was also the one constant with humans; they may have been inherently evil but they never did anything to harm their own. Kids were given affection usually not found in black souls, protected from the pain until they were old enough to understand, and it showed that mankind was not complete unsalvagable. I had thought no one could ever hurt their own child... I had never been more wrong.
A sobbing sound reached my ears, sputtering in desperate attempts to be quiet, as though if they were heard a punishment of some kind would ensue. Stealth on my side, I blended seemlessly into the darkness, my sight seeing obtascles as if they were in broad daylight, as I made my way to the sound.
Playground equipment came into view, the shapes distorted in the night becoming gnarled monsters with limbs of twisted steel and wood. The colors were faded from wear and tear, the wheather was never a kind mistress to metal and bark, giving them the incurable diseases of rust and woodrot. A lone fingure sat among them all, crying to the stars in the Detroit heavens, begging God for assistance. It was slightly sickening to see this human cry, I had never seen tears of crystal, only of blood, so this was new to me. I had believed humans were too prideful to show moments of weakness.
My prey had always cried tears of defiance, tears of hate and disgust, even then their tears were tainted, never clear but carrying underlying tint of black. But never had I seen this type of hurt and vulnerability, anguish clear and unblemished... and I wished I hadn't. I had never seen someone so broken, too disheartened even to stand with any kind of dignity. And at such a young age. The poor boy couldn't have been any older than his fourth year in school, and he appeared to already have a grasp of how cruel the world had become.
I had approached him, my footsteps making not a sound, cautiously sitting at his side before finding my voice to speak.
"What's wrong child?"
He looked at me, those eyes filled a despair I had not known, lips quivering and split blood flowing from them. My beast raged in it's cage, rolling in the sweet mocha scent radiating from the crimson elxir on his face. It was sending me into the my primal urges, and I struggled to control them so as not to scare this boy. He looked frightened enough as it is, and not even I, a creature who thrived on blood and death, was that heartless.
Shaking like some terrified puppy he stared, assessing me with distrust. From what I had seen of human child, they were the most trusting individuals on the face of the planet, naive and happy. This babe wasn't the least bit like them. It was like he knew that being human meant suffering, and the people could never be trusted. It was...sad. The expression felt foreign on him, and I wanted so badly to wipe it away, for some reason he was tugging at my heart strings.
"Don't you worry little one, I will not hurt you. Tell me child, what is wrong?"
"H-He hit me." Angry, purple and red blotches marred the carmel colored skin, that marked him as a Latino, on his forearms. The flesh was swollen, and from the way he was sitting his sides were probably rittled with the same bruises, the breathing labored. Who could do this to a baby?
"Who hit you?" Distain seeped into my voice, and anger clouded my vision. This innocence was being tainted, it really pissed my the fuck off. Not even vampires did this to their yound, they were loved and cared for with the utmost care and mourned fiercely when killed by the not extinct hunters of old (AN: Van Helsing). It was beyond me that a person could do this to a child.
"My dad."
The clenched it. A father did this to his own son. Anger boiled into rage, before becoming metamorphised into hatred.
"How long?"
"What?"
"How long has your father been doing this to you?"
"Ever since mommy died... that was when I was three."
"How old are you now?"
"Ten."
Seven years. Seven long years of being subject to this torment. The man who was supposed to love and care for his offspring, was a monster worse than a bloodsucker like me. For years, this boy was victim to a man's angry spouts of self-loathing. He more than likely blamed his son for his wife's passing if he was beatening him like this.
"Stand up boy." Unsteadily getting to his feet, he stood face down, finding the ground more interesting that me.
"Turn around." He did so. I needed to see the extent of the damge done to him before I did anything, but if it was how much I thought it was, the coward was going to die for marring this kids skin. Lifting his shirt gently, I gasped. My eyes roved over the scabbing lashes on his back. This guy was truly sick. The gashes were shaped into a word scrawled across his back.
'Destroyer.' Sores and crusted over blood framed the word in in a grotesque tapestry all done the tanned flesh. I gently turned him in a circle, taking in the bashed in sides, broken ribs and ruined flesh. What had he done to desrve this?
Not even thinking, I bit into my wrist, my own nigrescent life surfacing through the wound. My blood would heal him, it always did in living humans, once it was done it was filtered out instead of transforming them into a follower of the night. I highly doubted he would die in the next few days my blood was in him, so he wouldn't become a newborn. (AN: True Blood).
"Drink." His head rose with my hand place delicately on his chin. "It'll make you feel better." I offered this excuse at the incredulous look on his face, disbelief ebbing its way into his vision. He thought I was insane, but none the less did as I said.
Gently taking my wrist in his small hands, he placed his lips over the cut and sucked in a timid rythm. Slowly bruised faded from red to green then yellow, finally becoming his skin color and cuts knit back together. The words dug into his back disappeared, while ribs crack themselves back into place. I stopped him once I was sure he was back to his normal self.
"There now. All better." That boy smiled an infectious smile, causing me to realize that i hadn't asked his name.
"Carlos."
"Well Carlos... how would like to live with Uncle Logan for a while." If possible that smile beamed as brightly as the sun in the night.
"That's be awesome... but what about Dad?"
"Do you love him?"
"... I used to. Now... he's not my dad anymore."
"Just what I wanted to hear." My eyes flamed red, fangs glistening. It was time to teach a horrible man a lesson.
XXXXXX
We walked, winding through the maze of streets, down hidden paths littered with trash and other disgusting substances in pubbles surrounding can overflowing with filt. I was in awe of how they let this part of town go on in this condtion. I was being to see the ones in charge never really cared about the poorer and less fortunate. Maybe humanity didn't deserve my previous, kinder thoughts. They only cared for themselves, they only protected what they felt was impotant. Even my kind protected what they held dear.
Carlos turned down the one last street, stopping in front of a particularly run down home. Glaring out at it, his jaw set tighly, hands in fists with knuckles turning as white as the dragon on his pitch black shirt. I assume we were here, and started to make my way inside.
He wasn't walking with me, I turned tos ee him still seething at the house, his hatred scorching the peel paint and slashed door. He was trying to set it ablaze with his mind. killing his tormentor inside.
"Come on Carlos." Stiffly he came toward me, marching alongside me into the maw of his own personal dungeon. The eerie glow of a television shown from the open doorway to the left, signaling his father was still awake and waiting. I melted into the shadows, concealing myself into the blackness, invisble to any human.
Sure enough some lumbering fool came barreling into the our line of sight. He was bull, ugly and easily set off, the smell of vodka evident on his breath, eyes glazed with undisgused hate and drunkeness. His beer belly bulged through his soiled beater, his movement labored with alcohol. Cattle like this deserved to be killed, in my opinon. I would enjoy this.
"You little shit. How dare you fucking run from me!" He yelled was slurred, but to little Carlos it was terrifying. His earlier hate disappated into fear. His father advanced like some drunken wild cat ready to devour some antelope. When he reached a hand out I grabbed him, crushing his wrist in my grasp.
The man beast screamed, trying to break my vice grip, cursing at me through gritted teeth. I never knew my name was you son of a bitch. I sneered at him, giving him a full view of my enlongated canines, enjoying the tough guy act sheding to reveal the cowering piece of shit beneath.
"Please... d-don't hurt m-me."
"Now you want to beg. Did you stop when Carlos begged?" My voice was cool steel slicing through his barriers like butter, crumbling anything left of his resolve. I could see the questions in his eyes, asking what his son had to do with any of this."
"Did you stop when he pleaded not to get hurt?" A sadistic smile curved over my tongue, bending his arm back with a sickening crack that echoed throughout the house. Tears pricked at the edges of his dark orbs. I glanced at the Latino boy next , as calm as ever. He didn't stop me, he had had enough of his father's bull. I was going to end it all today. Tonight would be a night of screams and blood. The beast in me took over, happy it was going to be fed.
"You didn't stop... why the fuck should I." I willed the shadows off the walls into binding his legs and arms, suspending him in mid air in front of me. I walked to him, halting steps in deliberate motions, relishing in the fear this dereanged, child beating ass was exuding from him. It always felt good to take people down a peg.
"It fact, I'm not going to... even if you beg." One of the shadows cut down his middle, blood gushing from him in scarlet waves that dripped to the floor. His scent was rancid, full of the lemon vokda he'd consumed this night. But I didn't stop. I gripped the sides of his cut, ripping it open with brute force. The skin peeled off like stickers, and I threw the flaps to the ground, a squelching soud reaching my ears.
I plunged a hand through the vein and artery engorged muscles, ripped through the fat covering them with ease. My hands found his liver and ripped it out. It was half dead, failing because of the strain of his drinking habits. I squished it in my palm, blood falling in my mouth with uerring accurancy. The red rivlets ran down and stained my chin. I knew the bloodlust was overwhelming me, my pupil nonexistent in the rufescent hues of my irises.
Shrieks and protest begged me to stop, but true to my word I kept going. I ripped out his intestines, splashing his face with a highly corrosive acid that ate away at his face. His cries increased in volume. My shadow made slashes along his exposed muscle, the air and bateria hitting him must have been agony.
"Shut up." My shadow wrapped it's ghostly clucthes around his neck cutting off his air supply. His gasped for oxygen, his lungs expanding but never blowing out, getting bigger and bigger before exploding is a mess of pink and red. I licked it all off my face, gagging at the taste, yet shuddering becuase of it was blood. This was too much. I tore into his body, lapping up all the blood I could get. I pulled out his heart, the veins and ateries like ribbons gracing a gift. I bit into it, tearing it to shreads with my fangs, the chunks falling to my waiting stomach.
I stopped and turned to Carlos. He has gone ashen during this whole ordeal, beckoning that I come to him. I knelt down, blood all over my face, with the sincerest look as my expression. He didn't look scared, he looked blank, a clean slate of all emotion.
"Carlos." The Hispanic boy turned to me, still looking devoid of feeling, "He's gone now, he can't hurt you anymore."
I was scared he would run, I was scared he would call me a monster and leave, forever gone. For some reason I didn't want to lose him. We had a bond now, a special bond through, my blood. If he left part of me would die. Carlos... don't leave me. i was silently pleading, crimson tears pouring from my eyes. Accept me.
Something snapped in him, and he jumped me, gathering me in a tight hug of tears and relief. I hugged him back. No one would ever hurt him again. My shadow dropped his dad's corpse to the ground as we walked out of the house, my hand clasping his, never to return to the place of his nightmares. He was mine to defend.
XXXXXX
An octect years went by, and I watched Carlos evolve into the man his is today. His long, scragglely limbs of a child morphed into stout, strong muscle; shoulders broadened, pectorals and abdomenals defined themselves through the tightness of his shirts, and though he was short for a man, he made up for it with his exceedingly huge heart. He retained the childhood he had lost, that made itself manifest in his attention span. It took something of considerable worth to keep his gaze for more than a few seconds, which explained my he could never sit long enough to ever complete a class assignment. Carlos was an endless ball of energy, that if put in electric form could power all of Detroit for hundreds, if not, thousands of years to come.
The child I met who had been born in pain, was actually a child of the sun. He was so bright, attracting everyone to him with his charm and antics. He loved being the center of attention, I could only imagine why. I ventured to guess it was because he had neevr been shown anything but hate, postive emotions directed at him were probably far and inbetween. With that in mind, he lapped up any praise, any love and friendship, and let it fuel him into becoming on of the most inspirational students that attended Emerald Cove High. The ten year old that wanted to die was now a man, a man of purity and kindeness.
It was a good thing I was there with him, I was the one thing he would focus on and listen to so I was essential in getting him to finish any project deligated to him by an instructor. His admiration for me only grew as time went by, I was his Logie. A purely sweet name, given to the darkest of all angels; I was his angel, his dark, bloody angel that loved him enough to rip him from the clutches of his own hell. He had always told me I saved him, I was his not in ebony armor that gleamed like onyx in the starlight. Carlos was indebted to me, not minding he had to pay me back. My Latino lover paid me back in tender kisses, moans of want, and anything else I desired. Whatever I asked him to do he did to the letter, it was my tutiledge and the grace of God he graduated. I cheered the loudest of all his friends.
Carlitos looked so ravishing in his green robes, the emeraldecent hues contrasting with the carmel of his flesh. The cap skewed to the right ever so much, the black tassel being batted at by his wandering hands. He was cute. Showering him with gifts, his friends gave him a completely autographed yearbook, filled with pictures of them helping the community and laughing together; money, of course, and a framed pictured of his graduating class. This was possibly the last they would see of each other, so these presents were expected. He accepted these gracioulsly into the forest bosom of his robe, smiling with all eight years of happiness I had given him. The best presnt is always saved for last, and what did I get him? The only thing he actually wanted.
His graduation present had been simple, all he wanted was to be mine, for as long as an eternity. Who was I to deny him what he wanted?
I spread the chocolate scented lube over my two figures and inserted them into his enterance, making him release a wail of pure want. Carlos thrusted back onto my hand, the need rolling off him.
"Move your hand Logie." I obeyed, pumping my fingeres into his, getting more of those moans and groans that made me harden instantly. I growled in his ear, adding another finger, while grinding myself against him with the same want and desire. I assaulted his hole with yet another finger, before deciding my dick looked better going in and out of my Carlos. I slathered it with the umber colored substance and drove myself into him. He wailed, saying my name, each syablle a sigh and whimper.
My hands raked up his sides making little tears and nicks, giving me a front row seat to his mocha aroma adding to the cocoa sent filling the room. I put my nails to my lips, and sucked off all of his life force. He was panting, a looke of absolute serenity on his face.
"Take me now Logie."
"Altight Carlitos."
I bit him, digging my nails into his shoulder, tracing angel wings in his skin. I sucked him dry, thrusting and thrusting, before grabbing his length and making him cum. I released soon after, biting my wrist in a way mimicing my actions so long ago and coaxed him to suck, until my the light headness settled in. I pushed him off, staring at him as the tranformation took place.
His hair spiked sexily, lengthing and falling slightly over one eye. Brown eyes become an impposible shade of dark umber, and his pale skin was still tanned. Breathing ceased and become pained shudders (AN: Interview with a Vampire). His hreat stoppd in sychronised beats with his slowing breaths. He kissed me softly, exhausted before promptly and dramtically passing out. My Carlitos was reborn.
And so ends the stroy. A person becomes a constant when that person proves they love you, no matter what. What else could accepting than becoming one with me and joining the ranks of vampire for me be but love? He was mine to keep.
And I'm damn sure he's okay with it.
Read and Review please.