It started with a glass. A simple, stupid glass. That damn glass was filled with tomato juice. Instead of the rich lifeblood he normally fed off of, there was TOMATO JUICE in his glass. A sweet looking blonde child with glasses, at or around the age of twelve, was smiling angelically at him from across the table. "What's wrong, Alucard?" Oh, she was good. A simple question, just the right tone of voice as to not suggest treachery… if he was still a human, even he would have been fooled. But he was NOT a mere human. He was so, so much more.
A simple glare told her she had been caught. His words just reiterated the fact. "Miss Integra…" She giggled. GIGGLED. At him.
"…Yes..?"
His glare intensified. How long could she keep this up? Didn't she know that he, as the No Life King, could smell her lie?
"You switched my blood with juice. TOMATO juice. Care to explain, Little Master?" It was her turn to glare at him, her slight form dwarfed both by his incredible height and by the fact that she's sitting down.
"I don't need to explain anything to you, Servant." He finally moved from his absurdly ramrod straight position, slamming his hands on the table as he leans in inches from her face. Her sky blue eyes widen at his sudden movement, but then narrow back into their glare. His next words made her breath catch in her throat and her eyes widen again in shock and realization.
Still bent over into her face and his blood-coloured eyes boring into hers, he growled at her, "Little Master, by not allowing me that blood, by pulling some petty trick such as this, you have put yourself and everyone else in severe danger. I may have a firm grasp on my bloodlust, but even I have my limit! If you continue with such imbecilic actions, I have no idea what may happen to you! Your pet vampire cannot protect you if he is weak! Do you understand me, Little Master?"
She bowed her head, having just realized how foolish she had been. Quietly, unable to look her vampire in his eyes, she says "I only wanted to have a bit of fun." His ruby orbs soften slightly, and he stands back up, picking up the glass of tomato juice on the table and looking at it thoughtfully. After a moment, he asks her,
"How angry do you think Walter would be at us if this just happened to fall on his head?"
FIN
So, what do you think? It's just something short that came to mind while listening to Voltaire. I really don't know why. Any criticism is valued and appreciated. Flames will be mercilessly tortured in the pits of hell. Have a nice day!
--KB--