The cold touch of frozen stone; the metallic smell of spilled blood. Alexander knew that this castle was nothing but stone and plaster- wood and nails every once in a while. But the way it felt when he took the time to glide his hand along the walls, or the musical splash as his shoe stepped into a puddle of an old victim's blood… Something in him was uplifted or… set free- a feeling that no amount of Vitae could ever release.
He would place his feeble old hand against that stone- he would feel the ridges and the cold against his palm and finger tips, and it would jolt through his body like the electrical surges he had read about in an English book by Thomas Browne.
And occasionally, that surge would find its way to more appendages than just his arm.
He truly loved this castle. Even if he was stuck in the god forsaken human world, he was blessed to have built such a beautiful place to live that suited his superior intelligence and mind. Not to mention the vast underground space was most valuable. Not only for the extraction of Vitae but as well as for his studies, and the portal ritual for when that accursed Daniel would finally manage to pull together the shards of the orb he had taken from Algeria.
That accursed Daniel. He was a requirement, of course. But something about his naivety towards his surroundings nearly drove Alexander crazy- on more than one occasion. The man had yet to come across any of Alexander's wandering Grunts or Brutes, something the elder had not taken for granted. The day Daniel saw one of them would be the day his whole plan was blown to ruins.
But Daniel wasn't what Alexander was interested in. He was speaking about the castle. Yes, the castle- Brennenburg- the true Kingdom of Prussia. It was huge. It was vast. It was the space Alexander had earned throughout his hundreds of years in this world. And he knew he had earned it. He built it from the ground up. Even further than that, considering the multiple basement levels it had.
But it was more than just the size that attracted Alexander to the building. The shape, the contours, the color of stone. Of course he loved the look of the castle- inside and out. Why wouldn't he love it? He built it around his own desires. He picked the materials he was attracted to. The entire building was structurally sound- at least it was 300 years ago. Nowadays it was beginning to crumble. Which is why his plan to get away from this world was being thrown into full swing.
It was a somber disappointment to watch his beloved castle fall apart at the seams. Some of his favorite rooms had already caved in. He didn't want to seem too attached in front of Daniel or the gatherers. But when he was alone, his heart was breaking. His beautiful, perfect castle was falling to ruin and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He had to leave the castle before he saw it die. It would break his heart into too many non-repairable pieces if he were forced to witness it. All the work; all the beauty… Reduced to rubble. He couldn't even bare the thought. He loved this place. And if it were to die… He wouldn't let himself stay here and witness it. If it weren't for the crumbling of the castle he could have stayed longer in this world. But he couldn't stand to see his strongest love since his wife be killed off by time.
Oh his wife. He almost felt as though he was betraying her. He should still love her as much as always, but the brick and stone of the castle walls had been captivating his thoughts more and more as every day went by. Every time he wandered through the halls, he needed to have a hand on the stone. He had to feel as much of that cold, lifeless rock as he could. If ever he awoke in the night after a nightmare that fevered his body, he would strip from his nightgown and stand against the wall as though it were a woman. It would cool his skin and ease him back to sleep again.
Only once had one of the grunts walked in on him embracing the stone. Its lifeless face watched for what felt like an eternity before it groaned and silently left the room to continue its rounds. Alexander could still remember the relief he felt when the grunt had left him alone. For a moment his attachment to the castle was humiliating. But as soon as the monster had left, everything went back to normal. He felt completely attached all over again. But the answer was now clear.
His affair would have to happen in secrecy.
Only when he was alone would he let the desire control his limbs. Only at night would he allow his skin to come in contact with the ridged stone. If Daniel was around, he would act like the castle was nothing but a living quarters. If the grunts wandered by, he would pay them no mind. But when he was alone… Especially at night…
It had taken days in the laboratory, but after much trial and tribulation, Alexander was able to create a new kind of acid. It was a creamy paste, emitting a horrid smell and glowing a deep purple. The effects of the acid were both simple and useful. It was harmless to the human skin. The more friction you added against it, the slimier and wetter it felt. But despite how harmless it was to organic material, it could burn through stone and rock like a drill.
He only needed a small portion of this acid for his purposes. After containing the amount he needed in a beaker, he started back up to his bedroom quarters. But of course, nothing could ever be easy within the walls of Brennenburg.
"Alexander? What have you been doing all week?" Daniel was practically waiting for Alexander in the back hall. The older male tried to hide the vial behind his back, but Daniel was more than capable of getting into every inch of business he possibly could without being killed for it. "What is that you have?"
"It's a new acid," Alexander grumbled, letting Daniel view- but not touch- the purple substance. "I've made it for… A personal purpose." His eyes started to shift towards the right. He wanted to be done with this conversation now. But. Good, old, reliable, consistent Daniel. The young man's hand was already reaching for the beaker, to which Alexander responded by pulling it back.
"What does it do?" Daniel pressed, his eyes practically glued to the goop. "It's such a royal color! Will it assist with the Shadow?"
The Shadow. Was that all this fool spent his time thinking about? Alexander's patience was wearing thin. He began to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a short, loud, huff.
"No, Daniel," Alexander responded, continuing through the hallway. The prospect of what he was about to do was easily beginning to strain his walk. "This hasn't anything to do with the Shadow." He left Daniel behind to ponder, returning to his quarters and barricading the door.
Hesitantly, he began to take a few steps further into the room. He set the beaker down on the table next to his bed, pulling out a tinderbox from the drawer to light the table's candle. As he walked along the wall, he grazed his fingertips along the stone. He needed to find the perfect spot; A spot with enough room to allow his movement a free range.
Once he found a section of the wall that was spacious enough for his body, he once against started to feel the stone under his hands. Every bump, ever ridge, every nook and every cranny. It was gorgeous. Never before had he been able to touch something so perfect. Not even the body of a woman could compare to what he was feeling now.
With a sharp inhale his body jerked forward, desperately pressing against the stone. He was out of patience. He needed this now. His hands slid over the stone in need, and as his breath moved to a pant, he started to thrust against the wall with his hips. He turned that motion into a steady rhythm, before, for the first time, pressing his lips into the rock.
It felt fantastic. Those bumps in the stone against his lips. The hard edge to feel pressed against his own hardness that had grown in his trousers. That cold, pressed against the heat of his body. He needed to have more of it.
Without moving his lips, Alexander allowed himself to undress. Sliding his vest over his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. He untied his neck dress and tossed it aside. He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall along his arms and bunch at the elbows. He pressed his chest against the wall, the lust inside of him only growing. He wanted more.
As his tongue moved between his lips, he started to tease the stone with the tip of it, swirling around the bumps like a woman's nipple. His hands slid down the stone before moving to his trousers, pushing them over his hips and letting them fall to the floor with a light thud. He stepped from the fabric, pressing against the wall again. Brennenburg… What a beautiful place it truly was. And he was about to take it for himself in the last way possible.
His hand was shaking as it reached for the beaker of acid. He managed to separate from the wall just long enough to slide two fingers into the vial, scooping up some of the goop. He pressed the fingers against the wall, rubbing the acid into the stone. The more he rubbed, the more slippery it became. And the more slippery it became, the more the stone began to crumble and retreat. The area under the acid had created a small tunnel in the stone. And, as if he were preparing a woman, he slid his fingers inside of it to spread the goop further.
The walls of the tunnel began to drip from the acid's effect. The moisture was dripping out the hole and along the wall. And the more Alexander looked at it, the needier he felt. This was the end of it. The absolute end for his lust towards Brennenburg. Once he had the building this way, he would truly own it. He would become one with it. This would forever be his home.
Using his hand as a guide, he began to slide his erection into the hole he had created. He inserted it slowly, nudging his hips forward to feel the cold against his pelvis. It was tight. It was wet. It was nothing short of the feeling of a woman. But this wasn't a woman. It was Brennenburg. It was far superior to a woman; any woman- including his wife.
Once he was fully inserted, he let out a heavy sigh of lust and desire. His head began to fall back as an initial moan threatened to crawl from his mouth. Brennenburg… This was where he belonged. This beautiful castle. This magnificent structure. He pressed his chest against the cold stone once more. And leaving his head back, he began to thrust.
He started slow to get used to the feeling of intercourse once again, but once he was certain his frail body could handle the action, he picked up his speed. His grunts and groans were beginning to echo through the room, joining the sound of the candle's barely audible crackle. His hands wandered over the stone as though he were caressing a woman. He desperately pressed against the cold of the wall. And the closer he got to his release, the faster- and louder- he became.
It didn't take long for him to expel inside of the stone, screaming towards the ceiling of his quarters in a way not unlike the squeal of a brute. The innocent hole he had made in his virgin castle had been tainted. This building- Brennenburg- was forever marked as his. This building was more than Alexander's home. It was Alexander's other half. Until death do they part.
The intercourse soon became a daily occurrence. He wanted to feel the castle around him constantly. He would excuse himself to his quarters so much that Daniel eventually grew suspicious. And the moment that happened, he knew the affair had to stop. But if he were going to stop the affair, he couldn't continue to live in this God forsaken world. He didn't want to live in it. Not without being able to love Brennenburg as the soul mate to Alexander that it truly was.
So instead, he took his initial plans with Daniel forward. The boy would get him the rest of his Vitae, and the boy would find him the orb pieces he needed to create the portal and find his way back to his home. And once he was back home, Brennenburg could fall to ruin without ever having to plague Alexander's mind again.
A tragic fate, for a tragically flawed couple.
This was written as a joint project with a friend of mine… Keep your eyes out for a matching story in which Daniel has a love affair with his hometown of Mayfair.
No doubt inspired by the story "Love is a Cold, Metallic Object" written by fanfiction . net's very own Cliscia.
…I can't believe I actually finished this.