Disclaimer:
Anything you recognise does not belong to me; I'm simply playing around with Alan Ball's and HBO's lovely universe and delectable characters.
Author's Note:
There just cannot be too much Godric fan fiction in the world. Please, enjoy my very first story!
xXx
I groaned from pain when Gabe with unnecessary force pushed me against the door before he unlocked and opened it, pulling me through by my long hair.
I've never had a particularly high pain tolerance and so I screamed in agony and tiptoed next to him to lessen the pull on my hair, which didn't seem to faze the brute in the slightest as his only response was to throw me hard against a metal barred cage in the other end of the room.
Dazed from the impact I tried to get my legs to cooperate with my fear-struck brain in order to initiate some sort of an attempt of escape, but before the two parts of my body had managed to open up any sort of communication Gabe had unlocked the cage. He grabbed me, again by my dark brown hair, and unceremoniously tossed me into the cage so I landed on the concrete floor on my hands and knees with a grunt.
"The sun sets in two hours, whore. I suggest you spend the time praying for forgiveness," Gabe smirked as he slammed the cage shut and locked it with a metallic click.
I stumbled to my feet and turned around so I could glare at him. "Let me out, you arsehole!"
An evil smile crept onto his face, and he purposely rubbed a hand over his groin. "If you'd rather spend the time getting fucked senseless like the little slut you are, then by all means…"
My bravery instantly left me and I quickly stepped back until the other side of the cage pressed against my back, my eyes wide with fear. If he decided to rape me I was under no illusion that I'd be able to fight him off. It was in that moment, while I instinctually searched for something, anything, to swing at him, that I realised I wasn't alone in the cage.
A dark haired teenage boy sat cross-legged on the floor without moving a muscle, his back straight and his eyes closed, a serene look on his handsome face. It looked like he was meditating.
Outraged I gaped at my attacker. "So now you kidnap children?!"
Gabe laughed loudly and then turned around to leave. "Start begging God for forgiveness. You don't have much time." And with that, he left the room and closed the door. I heard the lock click, and then the retreating sound of his footfall.
I cussed loudly, but my shoulders sank in defeat. There wasn't really much to do about my situation other than sit around and wait for the Fellowship of the Sun to make their next move, whatever that might be. Crazy fucks.
I turned around to look at the boy – or guy; a possibly-18 year old would probably not appreciate being called 'boy' – and pinched my lips together at his immobile figure. Nice to see that someone could keep their cool while being locked up by crazies.
"Hey, hello?"
He not as much as batted an eyelid. Was he in some sort of a trance? Or was he just a total asshole… I knelt down in front of him, staring straight at him with my face no more than 5 inches from his. "Hello?"
Silence.
I blew air in his face. Not particularly mature, some might argue, but his total lack of acknowledgement of my existence pissed me off. Hello, damsel in distress here!
A suffering groan slipped past his full lips and a blurry eye was cracked open. "Don't… do that." It was hardly more than a whisper, and his eyelid immediately closed again.
His obvious grogginess scared me. Was he sick? Drugged? What on earth had they done to him?!
"Are you alright?" My pitch was slightly shrill with worry, and I carefully pried his left eye open with two fingers to make sure he didn't slip into unconsciousness. "Did they drug you?"
The white in the eye I had pried open slowly rolled until a greyblue iris with a very dilated pupil came into focus. "Shh, little one." He slowly raised a hand from his knee and wrapped it loosely around my wrist. Gently my fingers were pulled away from his eye so he could close it again before he released me and let his hand sag back to its original position on his knee. "Have to sleep… a little while longer. Until… sunset."
Bewildered I moved slightly so I was no longer right in his face, but stayed crouched down so I could study his features for clues. His hand had been very cold against my skin, and even though we were in a basement it worried me. He clearly wasn't feeling well. And what on earth was up with everyone's fixation on sunset around here?!
His sickly pale face and the fact that I could hardly tell if he was breathing made me think that he was seriously, fatally ill. Wait… he didn't breathe at all!
It was in that moment, a fraction of a second before I was about to throw myself at him to provide CPR, that my brain decided to arrive at the party.
...Sleeps until sundown, pale, cold, doesn't breathe...
"Motherfucking FUCK!" I flew backwards and scrabbled away from him without taking my eyes off his unmoving form until the other end of the cage pressed against my back. The other end of the silver cage.
Oh, Mother of everything sacred, I was meant as a snack! What on earth was wrong with those fanatics?! I mean, sure, they were crazy – that much was established, but… why the hell did they keep a… a pet vampire in a cage underneath their church?! And why were they feeding him humans?!"
I desperately searched the cage for something to defend myself with, but as there hadn't been anything that could keep Gabe away there certainly was nothing to fend off a vampire with. There was only him, and me. And time.
I'd like to say that I spent the time calmly meditating about my life and afterlife, or came up with some brilliant scheme that would save me from being murdered in a pool of my own blood, but the only thing I was capable of doing was pressing my quivering body up against the metal bars, my arms wrapped around my knees while I stared intently at him for any sign that he was waking up, all the while breathing loudly and unattractively from the panic bubbling in my entire body.
It was both the longest and the shortest two hours of my life.
"You are rather loud."
The soft voice, which suddenly came from his otherwise unmoving lips, made the breath catch in my throat and my heart increase its beats per minute to about a million. At least.
His dark eyelashes flickered open and he easily turned around so he was facing me, without otherwise changing position. "I will not hurt you."
"You're a vampire!" Granted, it sounded rather accusatory, but come on... my nerves weren't exactly up for polite conversation.
His posture stiffened a touch. "And that of course means that I would harm you." He didn't sound sarcastic, just… somewhat defeated. As if he'd lost belief in life itself - or 'unlife', in his case – and like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
That tone took the edge off my fear: maybe he'd used that Glamouring trick I'd heard they could use on humans.
"Well," I defended myself. "I'm pretty sure I wasn't tossed in here to be your Bridge partner."
The faintest hint of a smile appeared on his youthful face. "Nevertheless will no harm come to you from my hands, little one."
He seemed sincere, and his voice and face held a strange sort of tranquillity, which slowly eased my fear. It didn't disappear, mind you, but I could no longer hear my own pulse drumming away in my ears, which is always appreciated.
I wrinkled my forehead in confusion. "Are… are you not hungry?"
The young man's eyes briefly flickered to my knees, which had been scraped earlier when Gabe tossed me to the floor, before they found my green gaze. "Not insuperably."
"Oh, so they toss women in here on a regular basis?" It was meant to come out in a sarcastic tone, but it ended up sounding like a scared whimper.
Something briefly crossed his face, and I wasn't sure if it was a smile or a grimace. "You are the first." His voice was flat.
"Oh." I watched him warily for any signs that he might change his mind, or that he was just waiting for me to let my guard down, but he seemed happy just sitting in his relaxed position, watching me like I watched him, though with an expression of mild curiosity in his blueish-black eyes rather than mistrust.
I held his unblinking, focussed stare for what must have been a good half hour until it simply became too much. It wasn't just the fact that it was a vampire whose undivided attention I seemed to hold; I'd never felt particularly comfortable when being stared at by the opposite gender – even if they were a good 5-6 years younger than me. And this vampire… he had a youthful face, but he was definitely, er, mature. His loose, off-white linen shirt couldn't hide broad shoulders tapering into narrow hips or the top of what looked like a rather intricate tattoo. The sleeves were pushed up to reveal sinewy underarms and large, masculine hands.
"Do you always stare at people you've just met?" I finally snapped, when the silence and his gaze started to make me want to writhe in discomfort.
A crooked smile briefly ghosted over his lips, and there was a definite shimmer of provocation in those dark eyes. "When they have spent hours staring at me while I slept, yes. It is by the way a very bad idea to disturb a sleeping vampire…" He chuckled quietly, and I realised that I was probably pretty lucky that he didn't bite off my hand when I pried his eye open with my fingertips.
"I thought you were sick!" I grumbled defensively. "It hadn't dawned on me that they'd have a vampire locked up in the basement!"
"I appreciate your concern, little one." An amused expression remained on his features. "And your innocence."
I blushed crimson over the fact that he assumed I was an innocent. Did I look like a freakin' virgin to vampires? "You are rather patronising, for a teenager." This time the sarcasm was clear in my voice. "Do you always speak to adult women like this? And I'm pretty sure I'm taller than you, so I don't know why you call me 'little one'."
For a moment his eyes widened comically in surprise. Then a hoarse, deep laugh – that would have gone straight to my ovaries if I hadn't been so upset with the whole situation - resonated from his chest.
"I am truly sorry to have offended you. " His laughter quieted, but his eyes kept an amused sparkle. "It was not my intent. If you will tell me your name I shall refer to you by it."
I was happy that I could amuse him. Really.
"Sophie. And you?"
"I am Godric," he simply stated.
"Godric." I couldn't stop myself from tasting the foreign-sounding name on my tongue. "Is that some sort of an artistic name? Do vampires have that?"
"An… artistic name?"
My brows furrowed. "Yeah, you know, like… Cher, or Prince. Something a person chooses as a stage name. "
His full, sculptured lips quivered once, but his voice was even when he replied. "No. It is the name I was given as a human."
Huh. I realised that he had a slight accent I'd never heard before. It was probably one of those names you never hear in English, but is common in other parts of the world.
I wondered if it was normal for vampires to immigrate.
And then, I realised that I had my first-ever, real vampire sitting across from me, and that this was a unique and guaranteed once-in-a-lifetime chance to ask about all the things that Nan Flannigan never seemed to cover when she appeared on TV as spokesperson for the VLA.
The golden opportunity made me completely forget the shitty situation I was in, and I eagerly leaned forward. "Godric?"
"Sophie?" My name carried on his soft voice was like an unexpected caress, and I blinked in surprise before mentally shaking it off me.
"May I… may I ask you some… questions?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "Questions? What type of questions did you have in mind?"
A light rush of blood coloured my cheeks, because let's be honest – to ask a stranger about their personal habits is slightly transgressive. To ask a vampire somehow seemed worse.
"Uhm, you know, things about vampires. What it's like… and stuff," I finished, lamely.
Godric watched me silently for a moment and then inclined his head lightly in a single nod. "That would be acceptable. But I cannot promise that I will answer them all." He hesitated. "And in return I wish to ask you questions, too."
That seemed fair enough. "Alright. So…" I briefly considered what to ask him first and decided to start with something that seemed less likely to risk offending him. "Do you all sleep in coffins, or..?"
His sensitive mouth quivered lightly again. "It is not that common."
"Then what do you sleep in?"
"I prefer a bed."
I don't know what I'd expected, but it just sounded so... normal. "Huh. I thought you slept underground."
"It happens, depending on the situation, but then it is usually without anything but the dirt. My turn." He seemed to consider his question briefly. "Why did the Fellowship bring you to my cell? What crime have you committed?"
Oh, so he dived straight in then. I blew air out between my lips so my walnut coloured bangs wafted around my face. "I was reading a book at a café when one of them came up to my table and started talking about Salvation, saying that I was tarnishing my mind and was a disgrace to me species for reading such trash. And I was in the middle of this really good chapter, and I hate being preached at, so I asked him to go fu… to leave me alone. They seemed to take it personally, because when I was on my way home from the café half an hour later these guys grabbed me and shoved me into a van. And now I'm here."
Godric frowned. "Which book was this?"
I gnawed on my lip and discretely glanced at my one, trainer-clad foot. "A fiction novel. About vampires."
"What is it called?" His eyebrows were still locked in a frown.
My cheeks heated slightly with shame. "Twilight."
He looked pensive for a moment, as if he was trying to recall the title. I prayed he didn't know it. Then his eyebrows straightened out and he looked a little surprised. "Is that the one with the sparkling vampires?"
"Yeah," I admitted, feeling somewhat judged for my choice in reading material when his nose scrunched up slightly, but at least he didn't laugh at me.
"So yeah, I was sentenced to death-by-vampire for my love of supernatural romance novels," I continued with a sigh. "Personally, I feel it's a tad harsh."
He smiled lightly at my phrasing, but it disappeared immediately again, and his expression became thoughtful and remote.
"Do you miss your family?"
He looked at a little quizzically at me.
"You know, your mum, dad... siblings… auntie? Or do you still keep in touch?"
Godric cocked his head slightly, and my inner artist suddenly craved pen and paper so I could draw him. The way the shadows played over his scarily handsome features practically begged to have his beauty depicted. It felt a little strange to think of a man as beautiful, but for Godric the word fit perfectly. He had definitely been at the very front of the line when they handed out looks.
"I do not miss them. " His voice was quiet. "They were a part of another life."
I frowned. "Does that mean a vampire has no interest in his or her human life after being Changed?"
His dark eyes considered me for a moment. "That is a question I cannot answer, Sophie. I do not know what it is like for other vampires."
Oh well, I suppose it made sense for things like that to be individual for every person.
"Why do you have ink smears on your arms?"
I blinked a couple of times, and lifted my arms out in front of me, twisting them so I could have a better look. Sure enough, a few ink smudges had avoided my attention the last time I washed my hands. "Oh, I was doing an ink drawing earlier and just didn't notice. I always have these sorts of weird spots and smudges in odd places after drawing or painting." I wetted a finger in my mouth and started rubbing on the offending smudges.
"You are an artist?"
I snorted. "I can dream! I've never sold anything so it's just a hobby. I work in a shop for a living. What about you? Do you have any hobbies?"
He looked a little perplexed, as if he'd never pondered the concept of a hobby. "I... read a lot, when I have the time. And people-watch. My work keeps me busy for most of my waken hours."
"What do you work with?" I looked up from the ink smudges, fascinated. I'd never really thought about vampires holding down jobs.
Instead of answering he gracefully got to his feet in one, swift motion, quicker than my eyes could follow, and stood with his face turned towards the door. "Someone is coming." His voice was quiet.
I got up, somewhat less elegantly, and waited with my hands wrapped around the bars. I couldn't hear anything before keys clanked on the other side, and the lock clicked open.
Three men entered, one of whom I unfortunately recognised as Gabe, the guy who'd manhandled me off the street and into the van earlier that day.
"Huh, you're still alive?" He sent me a calculating look before turning to the vampire. "What's the matter, Godric? She not to your tastes?"
The two other laughed loudly. Godric watched them calmly without answering.
"Oh well, suppose we best let you go the loo then."
I didn't like the sly look he was giving me, but I was pretty thirsty and could use a bathroom, so I ignored my sense of uncertainty and went over to the cage door.
The two goons following Gabe got a couple of what I can only describe as stake shooters, and lined up against the far wall, aiming at Godric, who stood with a tranquil expression, movement of any sort seeming far from his mind. Gabe grabbed a long silver chain before he started towards the cage.
"What do you think you're doing?!" I shrieked, bodily pressing myself in between the cage and Godric with my arms raised so I covered his figure with mine; I was actually taller than him, by a few inches, a corner of my mind noticed. "He's just a boy!"
"Ha! That 'boy' is a murderous monster! You can never be too careful with them sly beasts!" It was clear the three men took me for a raving loon. "And if it isn't tied up that door stays closed."
Godric stepped around me and reached his hands through the bars without touching them.
Gabe didn't waste time and immediately started wrapping the silver chain around his wrists. Smoke rose from his pale skin where red, bubbling welts formed. He hissed in pain and turned his head away, but stood still and let the man continue to wrap his forearms in layers of silver.
When he was done Gabe unlocked the cage and pulled me out by my wrist.
I tried to stop the tears forming in my eyes from overflowing while I was yanked out of the room. How could they! He hadn't even tried to fight them.
I was led to a small bathroom by Gabe, where I did my business and then proceeded to drink from the tap by the sink until I was no longer thirsty. I straightened up to be led back to the cage so Godric could be released from the silver, but Gabe had other ideas.
Without warning he fisted his hand in my long, tangled hair, and I screamed from shock and pain, which was then repeated when he slammed me face-first against the wall and then proceeded to press his body against my back so I was trapped between his weight and the tiles. I tried to fight him as best I could, but physically I was far out of my league, and all I managed was to kick his shin once, before he had me completely immobilised.
"We'll need to make you more delectable – it's not fair that a dead man won't have a last meal, hm?", he hissed in my ear, and suddenly cold steel bit into my chest. I screamed shrilly, and tears spurted from my eyes when he cut a long, burning gash from one shoulder across my chest, but he didn't stop there. He moved the knife up under my dress and sliced the waistband of my panties so they slid down, and I felt the blade bite into the inner side of my thighs, way up against my groin.
"Fangers like to drink from here," he whispered nastily while I cried against the wall from fear and pain. I could feel his hardness against my lower back and was very scared of what was to come.
"When it's done sucking your blood, but before you pass out, it'll fuck ya good. They like fucking after dinner, you know." He licked my ear and laughed when I cringed away from him, but instead of lifting my skirt up and raping me he pulled me, by the hair, out of the bathroom.
I fought to keep my dress up while I staggered after him – he'd sliced one of the straps when he cut my chest – and my feet were naked against the stone floor as I had lost both shoes at some point during my struggle against him.
He dragged me down the stairs to the basement and into the room, where a deep snarling sound filled the air. The two guards with stake shooters were visibly shaking, and I automatically swallowed a clump of pure fear; it was a primal sound, and 100% predatory.
Godric. The sound came from Godric.
His completely black eyes were focussed on Gabe, his fangs were fully extended, and though it only seemed to make them burn deeper into his flesh he was straining against the silver chains in an effort to get free. He most definitely did not look like a boy at that moment in time.
"Here ya go! Perhaps she looks tastier now!" And with that I was shoved into the cage with enough force to land on my hands and knees again, opening up the scabbed-over scrapes from before.
I scrambled around on the floor trying to regain my balance without losing the grip on my dress, and staggered to my feet in the corner farthest from the men and Godric.
And then Gabe cut the silver chain with a long set of cutting pliers, and the three left the room and locked the door.
Petrified I stared at Godric, who was as immobile and rigid as if he was cut from marble, still with the now loose chain wrapped multiple times around his wrists.
A deep growl emanated from him in unceasing waves.