Ordering (And Enjoying) Dinner
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Vladimir threw open the phonebook, scattering the papers off the small table, and began to frantically flip through the thick book. Stefan sighed and picked up the papers. He piled them neatly and sat them back upon the table. The pessimistic blonde was too lazy to go hunting for himself, so he was planning upon calling some people over, and having a nice, pleasant lunch.
"Let them come to me," he had ranted moments before. "If it were not for the Italian scum, I would be high upon my throne, ordering others to do these monotonous tasks." He then started on about Aro's personal Guard, and how much he hated Corin, and then Stefan had the decency to remind him to order dinner.
"As fun as it is to listen to you rant," he had drawled lazily, "I believe you should order our dinner."
Vladimir stuck one skinny finger on the pizza service, ordered a small cheese, asked a babysitter to come over, ordered some gardeners, a plumber, and a maid service. He had promised extra money if they could all come now, because it was very urgent. They all agreed, and Vladimir smirked at Stefan. "Do not look so silly. I have no intentions of paying these people any of our precious money."
Stefan nodded, and replied, "And what shall happen once all of these people – going to the same destination – all disappear?"
"A freak pile up on the freeway," Vladimir said easily. He danced over to the window, pushed away the curtions, and peered into the snowy afternoon. "Tomorrow would mark the anniversary of the day I met you."
Stefan could remember that clearly. He had been a poor theif, and stole everying from alchoal and cloth to a horse. He had eventually been caught. As punishment, the tips of his fingers had been dipped into scalding hot water, scarring them for the rest of his human life. He had been moping around the woods, looking for something to eat, when Vladimir happened upon him. He was the sole leader of his empire, having made it up and not having to take it from anyone. Vladimir ordered two of his minions to grab Stefan. They brought him close to Vladimir, and just as his neck was going to be ripped open, Vladimir noticed the marks on his fingers.
"A thief!" He had cried, appalled. Vladimir later confessed to Stefan that he was a rotten hypocrite. Vladimir had Stefan let go, and Stefan carried about his business, shaken but okay. The next day, Vladimir came back and brought him to his castle. He was imprisoned for two days. Over the course of those days, he was deprived of food and sleep. Vladimir's minions tortured him to the brink of death and insanity. Vladimir's minions were in the process of impaling him when the door to the stone chamber flew open, and Vladimir demeaned that everything be stopped. His minions did stop, and ran to stand behind him.
Vladimir had just eaten, and with the ecstasy of blood and death, danced around Stefan, singing. "I like you. You have not died, and nor have to begged us to stop." No one was sure what came over Vladimir, not Vladimir and certainly not Stefan, but Vladimir had bent down and pulled the pole from Stefan's body. He shuddered, and Vladimir knew he was seconds from death. So Vladimir bent down and ripped his teeth into Stefan's neck, put in just enough venom to change him, and pulled away. "Shackle him and call me when the change is complete."
Three days later, Stefan awakened. Vladimir had taken a great liking to him. Vladimir proclaimed that the newborn be his second in command, and that was how it had been ever since. Stefan proved to be a calculating, analytical, cynical man, who Vladimir came to trust. Neither found mates, nor happiness, but they had each other. When Stefan had said this – mockingly, jokingly – Vladimir had slapped him across the face so quickly that Stefan wheeled backward, almost falling over. "There is no sexual attraction, and I shall not have you speaking so foolishly." Vladimir did not joke around, and everyone who ever came across them knew that.
"Are you sorry?" Stefan asked. He already knew the answer, but it amused him to hear what Vladimir had to say.
"No I am not, you horrid thief! Why the hell did you ever consider getting caught? You deserve tenfold what you received!" Vladimir shouted.
Stefan laughed and moved to stand by Vladimir. "When shall they all arrive?"
"Hopefully it will not be at the same time." Any idiot could realize that the group of unsuspecting morons called over would never be asked to come at the same time. It was as if Vladimir had to leave with Stefan, so he ordered a babysitter to watch the house, the others to keep her company, and the pizza to keep them full. It was absurd, so Stefan could see why he wanted them to arrive one at a time.
"You, Stefan, are going to take them upstairs. Tie them up, keep them quite. I will move their vehicles to the freeway, and just toss them in. It is to impossible to be proved upon us, and Aro and his minions are afraid of technology." Stefan nodded, pleased that he did not have to do the strenuous job.
"Since you are receiving the easy job, I get first pick." Vladimir continued, a smirk forming on his bruise-like lips.
"I see," Stefan murmured, not at all surprised. Vladimir said things like that all the time, and he had gotten used to it. "The food is here." Stefan was referring to the pizza delivery, and not the man, but Vladimir did not realize this.
"Yes he is." Vladimir licked his lips and darted to stand in front of the door. A minute later, a teenaged boy with long black hair got out of his car, and carried up a pizza. As soon as he was in front of the door, Vladimir threw it open and pulled the child inside.
"What the hell, dude?" He cried, struggling to get out of Vladimir's grasp. He was a good foot taller, with a nice strong build, so if they were both humans, puny Vladimir never would have been able to grab him. "Take your damn pizza and let go of me!" He tried to shove the pizza at Vladimir, but Vladimir tossed it outside and pushed the boy to Stefan.
Nodding, Stefan pulled the lozer upstairs, just as Vladimir picked up the little car and began running toward the highway. Just as the boy was being gagged, a group of giggling idiots rang the doorbell. The two girls were going on about how "hot" some boy was, and how they wanted to "show him a good time." Stefan understood none of this teenager speak, so he threw open the door, and gave the babysitters the same treatment as the delivery boy. Things continued in this fashion until all the cars were burning on the freeway, dinner was bound and whimpering, and was Vladimir sitting down in front of them.
Stefan found his place next to him, listening impatiently while Vladimir rambled.
"Thank you all some much for coming to our humble little party!" He babbled. "It is going to be a very funny night for us. You look particularly delicious." He liked his lips and glanced at a teenager girl, blonde and skinny, she cowered against her friend. "Cowering while down you no good, you nasty girl. I wonder…" He spoke in Latin to Stefan, and then turned his attention back to the seven people. Three women and four men. "Try and scream if the answer is yes," Vladimir commanded. "How many of you told others exactly where you would be?"
No one made a sound, and Vladimir hissed. "Your heart shall be torn out and eaten if you do not answer." Three screams. "Good," Vladimir smiled. He looked to Stefan and said, "I want the blonde girl and the large gardener."
Two shrieks, and more cowering. "You can make noises now, can't you, princess?" Vladimir asked, laughing, as he cupped the girls face in his hands. He dragged his lips down her nose, bit her lips, and pulled her into his lap. He whispered to her, and she shook from the force of her cries. Vladimir continued to bite down her body, licking away the blood. He untied the gag on her mouth, and danced his fingers down her face. Finally, he forced her to stick out her tongue. He bit onto it, hard enough to bite it in half. She screamed, and Vladimir spat the tongue onto the floor. Stefan sat wordless, bored by the display.
"Are you almost finshed, Vladimir?" Stefan asked. "I want to eat, too."
"Go right on ahead," Vladimir said easily, ripping the head from the blonde girl.
"Why do you torture your food?" He wondered aloud. This answer amused him too.
"Why don't you?" Vladimir laughed. He was quicker with the gardener, but took his time on one of the maids. He had rules against doing anything remotely sexual with men, so any man that ever was unlucky enough to cross his path should be glad for his gender.
"I do not like to play with my food. It is called food for that reason." Stefan finished off the other maid and gardener. In only five minutes, they had managed to destroy seven families and end six lives. The media was already on the scene of the 'mysterious' crash, and Stefan and Vladimir knew it would only be a matter of time before the police were knocking on their door, wanting to know if they had seen anything fishy. The two had a mass burial ground six miles east, and the bodies were always burned beforehand, so they would be fine.
"Food starts with f. As does fun," Vladimir snickered. His fingers – dripping with blood – pulled the young girl toward him. He began to kiss her, and after he was finished, she was missing her tongue and cheek. Stefan stared in silence as Vladimir finished her off. "You used to have fun with your meals," he noted, licking his fingers.
"I still do. My idea of fun, though, never involved torture." Stefan replied, looking jealously at the blood on Vladimir's pants. It did not matter how old he became, Vladimir always made a mess.
They continued on merrily, until Vladimir had the sense to suggest burning the bodies. They did so quickly, and had the ashes in the mound of dirt before the police came knocking. After ages of experience considering these matters, Vladimir knew to shower and put on a new change of clothes.
The small television set was never used, except for these circumstances. On the local news channel, a pretty blonde women was reporting on a firey crash involving ten cars. It appeared to be a pile up, with no survivors. She said that police were trying to find out just who the "victims" were, and as soon as that happened, notify the family.
"Then," Vladimir continued for the women, mocking her voice, "We shall bother the home of two innocent men, rant and rage, and leave, stupid as we arrived."
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The pleasant sounding doorbell rang, and two police men – one lanky and around thirty years of age, the other forty and fat – stood outside the dark wooden doors, shivering in the snow. They had to wait five minutes for Vladimir to saunter downstairs, ease open the doors, and croon, "Ah, lookie, Stef! Wes gottas ourselves some vistas!"
The police men blanched, and took back a step. The atrocious accent, alabaster skin, and ruby colored eyes of the men made them want to go back to their car.
Stefan appeared behind Vladimir, one hand on his hip. "What's this, Vlad? These da pizza men?"
"Ah don' think sos," Vladimir shrugged, opening the door and allowing the officers inside. "Come ins! Make yaselves comfortables!"
The police asked Vladimir and Stefan questions about whether they had seen the victims, if they had come, and what had been happening at their home. Vladimir lied and replied, pointing at Stefan, "Ah ordered mes a babbysitta to watch 'im. Ah pizza ta keep 'im full. Others fors fixin' up stuffs." After inspecting their home, and doing other stupid things only dumb and dumber could think to do, the police left, satisfied that the weird men had nothing to do with the crash.
"Why did we have to talk like that?" Stefan demanded as the police car drove away.
"It is my belief that simple minded people would not be able to commit murders such as they and get away with it," Vladimir answered, glaring out the window at the snow.
Stefan looked at Vladimir, bite his lip, and kept his opinion to himself.
I am fully aware that any of this happening (especially in the way I wrote) is impossible. --