Brutality Benchmark
Ketti: ANOTHER oneshot? Yes. Shush. I like oneshots. This is actually a way older one I did... I don't know how long ago. Finished it tonight. I have too many stories to keep continuing oneshots, ugh. Why won't my muse let me continue what I start? Bad muse, BAD!
Pff... anyways... Despite the title, it's not really as bad as it sounds. I don't think. Meh, you can be the judge. Ja! *heartsymbol*
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Seras dozed fitfully, haunted by nightmarish memories of blood, and pain, and screams and nonomommypleaseno… Gasping, she curled in on herself, clutching her abdomen in phantom pain as sky blue eyes opened to the darkness of the grave. Shuddering, she pushed the coffin lid up and crawled weakly from the confining space, falling to the floor in a heap when her legs gave out. It seemed that being a vampire only intensified the depth of those dreams, she could still taste the blood in her mouth as she watched… nomommyplease..!
Cringing and shaking her head in a futile attempt to clear it of such thoughts, her eyes caught the plastic bag on the table, and the ringing in her ears stopped. Everything stopped.
Master… would be happy if she drank the blood. Crushing guilt threatened to drive her to the floor in a sobbing heap. She wanted so badly to please him, though she couldn't say why she felt that way, and all she seemed to do was disappoint him. Him, the one who had both killed her and saved her, her murderer and her creator, and…
Sighing, she forced herself to her feet, standing there, staring at the medical blood laying so innocently on the table's surface. It's not like she killed for it, or any such horror like that, so what was the big deal?
Still, she hesitated. Time passed unnoticed as she watched the rivulets of condensed water trail down the warming plastic's side, no longer contained in an ice bucket to keep the chill.
"You should drink the blood, Police Girl." His voice oozed from the walls and she felt more than saw as shadows congealed into a thick mass and his long limbs stepped forth into the basement room she called her own. Called her own? Nothing here was truly hers, no mementos of her once human life, no books she had personally chosen, it was a bare stone floor, with bare stone walls, the only furnishings her table, the coffin that had replaced the bed she awoke in her first night here, a wardrobe with spare uniforms, and two chairs. The Harkonnen lay as unobtrusively as it could in the far corner by the wardrobe, looking almost as shiny as new, though it was dented in a few places from vigorous combat.
"Why?" She couldn't help but ask, turning to look at him, even as she grabbed the plastic in one gloved hand, holding it at her side.
"Because I'm your Master and know what's best for you. Drink the blood, fledgling." He answered in a growl, looming over her with his eyes glowing like fire.
"What's best for me…" She mumbled to herself, glancing away, "What is best for me, Master?" She asked, almost challengingly.
"To stop thinking of me as a man, Police Girl, I'm a monster, and not bound by human restrictions." He answered and just like that, he backhanded her to the floor. She yelped and scrambled back a few feet, staring at him wide eyed. "Wh-… what was that for?!"
He gave her such a look that she shrank back against the wall, and as he approached with heavy thudding steps, her mind flew into a panic. He loomed over her so threateningly now, and that look… She lashed out blindly, backed into a corner; her foot connected with his knee and he grunted, taking a half a step back and she scurried on all fours likeananimal past him to the more open space of the room. He laughed and she turned to face him warily.
"That's right, Police Girl, we're beasts, monsters, give in to the violence."
"But you hate the things we hunt, Master…" She protested weakly, thinking of their mindless lust for blood and violence, and how they had to be put down like rabid beasts.
His grin terrified her, and she inched back a step instinctively as he stood there, watching her with those feral eyes, "Indeed. They are mindless things, lost to the thrill of the kill. They are weak and distorted reflections of what it means to be a true monster, Police Girl."
And he was there, in front of her and she leaped back, but was not fast enough. He caught her by the throat with one gloved hand, shark teeth bared in manic glee, "A true monster has cast off any weaknesses like remorse, or pity. We revel in the pain, Police Girl, but it does not control us."
He threw her so casually into the wall and she shrieked, tucking herself into a ball in mid air to minimize the impact.
He nudged her with a foot and she peeked an eye open cautiously to see him holding the blood bag she'd dropped when he first hit her. His brows arched expectantly and she realized she had two options; fight, or give in. She chose to fight, and with a snarl – she didn't even know she could voice such sounds – she swiped at his ankle, but he lifted it calmly out of reach and booted her in the guts, the angle of it sending her sliding along the floor to hit the opposite wall with a dull thud. Gasping as white hot pain engulfed her entire being, she tried to uncurl from her protective huddle to move, to stand, to do something.
That same boot kicked her again, and she was slammed back into the wall, crumpling in a heap on the floor. A nudge to her head made her moan in pain, and it pressed harder, compressing her neck painfully before a gloved hand fisted itself in her blonde locks and jerked her head back. "Are you going to drink the blood?" He asked mildly, sounding rather amused as she whimpered and brought her hands up to clutch at his wrist to lessen the pain on her scalp.
"N-no." She muttered, feeling childish and pathetic rather than defiant and holding to her humanity.
"N-no?" He mocked, and the laughter that echoed off her bare walls sent chills down her spine, "you sound so sure of that. Rest assured that you will before the night is through."
She quaked inside her head, a silent scream that spoke of nightmares and torment, but refused to show it as she went limp for a split second to swing her body around – using his grip upon her hair as leverage – and slam her feet into his kneecap, nearly inverting it.
He dropped her, but before she could scramble away, the same leg she'd injured delivered a crushing blow on her forearm, splintering the bone. She screamed, and blackness curdled at the edges of her vision, weak shadows ripping at his pants. The tread of his riding boots ground down on her skin, ripping it and sending bone fragments tearing through her arm.
"If you were drinking your blood regularly, Police Girl, this wouldn't be necessary." He commented off handedly as he watched her writhe beneath his boot. Growing bored, he let loose of her and pivoted on his heel to sweep her along the floor in a new kick.
Surprisingly, she gained her feet mid tumble, and jerked upright, injured arm cradled to her chest as she bared her fangs in a snarl. He grinned and crooked his finger mockingly. "Come here, Police Girl."
Her growl was high and reedy compared to the rumbling bass of his own, a pup imitating its alpha, but she tossed caution to the way side as she crouched in a ready stance. In a second she was gone, form blurring as she tapped into her vampiric speed to rush the creature that had sired her, black talons extended from the split fingers of her gloves. He saw her easily, of course, but played along, watching as she charged him blindly. A beginner's mistake.
He was greatly pleased when she used her claws to jam them into the stonework at her feet and fling herself to the side, rebounding off the wall to aim for his legs.
He side stepped, and chuckled darkly as he swung his booted foot down onto her spine, pinning her to the floor once more.
It was her own thrashing that cracked her spine, but his relentless weight that sawed the bone edge into the nerve below, and her snarling was cut short by a wail as her legs went numb. "Master!"
He clucked his tongue disapprovingly and knelt beside her, drawing her head into his lap – and flipping her over, which she whimpered at – to dangle the blood in her face once more. "Really now, Police Girl, if you don't drink how will you ever get stronger?"
She groaned, and her eyelids fluttered, before her crimson gaze focused on the room temperature liquid sloshing around in the clear container. Her Master obligingly lowered the blood pack to her lips, and her elongated canines ripped the thin covering with ease, pouring the stale – but still glorious – nectar down her throat. It travelled through her veins like fire and she arched as bones pulled back together, muscles knitting and skin resealing itself. It burned, and left a tingling sensation like pins and needles through her limbs that left her feeling more exhausted than her poor day's sleep.
"Fighting it is only delaying the inevitable, Police Girl." He rumbled, petting her briefly before he faded into the shadows, leaving her in her room for the night until summoned for a mission.