Needing Assistance
I got this idea after I finished reading the fifth book; to those who haven't read that far this story should be treated as a 'spoiler'.
I do not own Vassalord.
There a blinding flash followed by an audible 'click'; and Christopher J. Goss (Wayne made Cherry change his name) shifted into another pose.
"O~oh wonderful Christopher stay just like that~" the photographer in the black turtle neck squealed taking yet another shot. Oh how Chris hated this superficial place known as the modeling world. The spot lights were bright and too hot; and the continuous flashing of cameras wreaked havoc on his sensitive eyes that had grown so used to darkness.
Charles honestly didn't know why so many humans aspired to be a part of such a thing; whenever he had a shoot he was required to be on set at 5am just for makeup, not that the blonde didn't have a problem getting up early, he just really didn't want to wear it. Makeup he believed should be strictly reserved for women, it was awfully embarrassing, if his master saw him he would tease him mercilessly about it.
Sometimes when they were taking a break, Chris would sit back and find it all amusing. His fame was merely a curtsey of his 'Jailer', Alford Wayne, and he was quickly becoming a major fashion paragon throughout Europe. When he was aspiring to become a priest, girls didn't flock to his side. And reporters did not follow him everywhere begging for quotes either.
But why put him in the public eye at all? Why was that little one eyed cretin going to such lengths to fabricate him a new existence? He even had an American politician Walter Ascam, lying saying that he raised Chris and taught him personally. No doubt the diminutive redhead lured the older man with promises of immortality and power, such a foolish human being yet at the same time typical.
"What utter bullshit!" the blonde growled in his mind; no one could ever hope to take the place of his beloved master Johnny Rayflo, perhaps Wayne thought so? Perhaps he thought by thrusting false fame and fortune upon him that he would soon forget all about the vampire he kept locked up in a gilded cage in the basement; Having no one for company except for Minea, Johnny's pet nekomata and that repulsive priest, Mailer. Did they honestly think that Rayflo was that harmless? Most people did, but in reality the ancient vampire was more cunning than a Cheshire cat and twice as sly, and wasn't ashamed to exploit his guile for all it was worth to get what he wanted. Mailer had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker of course, but that didn't mean it bother the possessive vassal.
Maybe that was one of the reasons Chris was starving himself of blood? That constant gnawing hunger was nothing new to him, as he would often fast before finally giving in to his baser instincts; this time, the hunger would serve as a reminder of who and what he truly was.
Not to say that this path was not a wise one to follow.
Lately the blonde vampire could feel himself becoming weaker and the terrible dizzy spells he got weren't helping much either. Not to mention the fog that turned his thoughts to mush. But Chris just couldn't bring himself to feed, he just couldn't. Only the blood of his master should sate his beastly thirst, the blood of his god.
"Alright Christopher we're finished" the overly cheery photographer beamed "Fantastic job as usual".
"Oh thank the lord" Charles smiled wearily finally being able to step away from the lights and into the darker cooler part of the studio, annoying white spots still danced in his blue eyes. Wiping away a tiny bit of moisture, the blonde made a beeline to the snack table where his 'manager' Raymond stood with a cup of coffee.
"Mister Christopher I brought you a drink" the clone shyly smiled holding out the hot beverage.
"Thank you Raymond" the older vampire said giving him a gentle smile. Hunger wasn't the only reminder Charles had of his former self.
Dear sweet Raymond, the clone he and the mobster Oro found in Italy. Yao Ding truly had proved himself to be a merciless man, imprisoning the soft spoken clone underneath a rain of acid. No matter how long you live, humans could still surprise you on how cruel they can be, but then so could the supernatural.
But what Chris loved the most about his 'manager' was how willing he was to help him and his master find a way to escape the gilded cage. Even after they were forced to leave him behind to no doubt face more torture at the hands of Nulla; perhaps it was a trait he had in common with Rayflo? A shocking ability to bounce back, even after going through a horrific experience, Charley had no doubt the clone was trustworthy. He even went as far as to change his appearance to ensure his own comfort. And the vassal doubted that the other clones would do that just for him.
"Mister Christopher?" the quiet brunette frowned concerned.
"Hm?" the blonde hummed tiredly.
"Forgive me for saying so" Raymond began slowly "but you've been so quiet lately…are you alright?"
Charles smiled reassuringly "I am fine. I've just been feeling a bit sluggish lately" the older vampire didn't want to admit it but the strain of it all was becoming too much to bare.
"Would you like to go lay down in your room sir?" Raymond offered gesturing towards the exit doors.
"That sounds great, the atmosphere in here is beginning to get to me" Chris nodded letting the smaller male place a hand on his broad back and usher him out into the winding corridors, and away from the scent of humans.
X
Charles gave a contented sigh flopping down on his soft bed; it was so nice to finally give his overtaxed body some sort of break.
Absentmindedly the vassal raised his arm to stare at his slightly trembling hand, soon he would have no choice but to venture to where his master was being held prisoner and drink from him.
"No" the blonde groaned remembering the scene he'd walked in on before "I cannot go to master, not with Mailer about. Master will need his strength if we're ever going to get out of here" he thought forlornly 'I'll just have to wait" letting his arm fall back onto the sheets.
"How long can you keep doing this?" the soft coo of Raymond's voice resonated through Chris's artificial ears.
The older male gave out a hard determined look and rolled onto his side "As long as I must…you know I only drink the blood of my master, I cannot accept anything else". Strong words from a strong man; but they both knew that Charles was nearing his limit…he'd have to feed soon, for if he didn't he'd run the risk of going into a frenzy.
The professional looking clone fidgeted nervously with his uneven kerchief, a cute little blush lined his pale cheeks "I-I know…it's just…" how should he tell his savior? His worried thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone vibrated.
Charles couldn't help finding the jumpy clone amusing, but the amusement was short lived when he saw Raymond's face go blank, it was a habit his master had whenever something serious was happening and he didn't want his precious 'Cherry' to get involved.
"Raymond?"
Raymond snapped out of his stupor and gave his savior a charming smile "Please forgive me Mister Christopher I am being summoned for a small meeting" he said removing his fake black framed glasses and setting them on the nightstand "Will you be okay for about an hour?"
Charley's eye narrowed in suspicion "Yes I will be fine" he said watching him give a relieved smile and heading for the door.
Raymond paused in the door frame and turned back to smile sweetly at the blonde sitting on the bed "Get some sleep you really do look peaked".
Charles watched his 'manager' disappear before settling down in the soft linens, it wasn't long until he was sound asleep. Perhaps Raymond would be back by the time he woke up, and he could leave behind his hunger in his dreams.
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Raymond's disposition looked bleak as he stood rooted to the spot outside of his creator's Alford Wayne's head office. The feeling of hesitation the clone considered natural, for he knew exactly what his father wanted to discuss. Taking a deep calming breath, Raymond gathered up his courage and entered the lions' den.
The petite but dapper figure of Alford Wayne sat behind his cherry oak desk frowning at the demur Rayflo copy stepping inside. His gaze didn't reach eye level, opting to focus on his lapel instead "Well" said the little redhead "Tell me about your progress with Christopher, has he yet to drink?" he commanded.
Raymond clasped his hands behind his back in a clammy grip "Mister Christopher still refuses to drink blood of any sort" his 'father' was not pleased.
"That was not what I wanted to hear" the petite ginger growled snatching his cane.
Chris sighed contentedly, he was feeling less tired now but was still teetering on the edge of sleep and consciousness. The soft chink of a china cup being placed on his nightstand encouraged the blonde vassal vampire to open his eyes fully, and sure enough a white tea cup had been innocently placed there, maybe Raymond had come back? How long had he been sleeping?
Without another thought, Charley sat up fully and took a gulp of the steaming brown liquid.
"Hello Christopher, are you feeling alright?" a sickly sweet voice surprised the blonde male into dropping the rest of the contents onto the floor.
Charles sprang up like he'd been burned "Mailer!"
Standing in the open doorway was Mailer, what he doing in his room…the creeper "I deeply apologize for barging in unannounced like this but Mr. Wayne asked me to check up on you, as your attendant is busy at the moment" the brunette vampire said "pity you dropped your tea, I made it especially for you" as he said this, Chris began clutched his throat and fell to his knees in a uncontrollable tremble. Something was wrong here, very wrong. His body felt strange, his heart raced, and his hunger suddenly felt worse.
"W-what did you do to me!" he growled baring his elongated fangs grabbing at the other vampire's dress coat "tell me!"
"Mr. Wayne has been increasingly displeased with your obstinate attitude as late and frankly so have I" the fake priest sneered "so Mr. Wayne insisted that I give you some 'encouragement' on the subject".
"Y-you…fucking…"
"Ah ah, that is not language an aspiring man of the cloth should have" Mailer tutted wrenching himself free from the vassals grip.
"I will…kill you" Charles hissed his brown eyes turning red.
"Ah ha, I would love to see you try Christopher believe me but right now I must be going" Mailer smirked in a superior manner and took his leave. Leaving Charley to his ever increasing misery.
End Chapter
I missed Vassalord…sigh…oh well…what can you do? Please review.