Title: Bleeders
Author: Orenji Kaniku
Rating: R
Warnings: Strong language, violence, gore, and multiple character deaths
Summary: Detectives Yami Yugi Motou and Jounochi Katsuya are called out to a murder that screams, "VAMPIRE". Do they have reason to believe that a mythical creature did this or is it just a disturbed citizen?
Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh!
Betas: Liger, Yami27, and Homogenic
Notes: I tried to get this story close to how things actually are in the Law Enforcement field with the endless research because not only am I going into this field and I have learned a lot, I thought it would be beneficial to those who are still looking for a career to match their own personality or just to read something that isn't completely fiction. I hope you learn something.
The "Snake and Spider stew" bit is from one of my favorite Tim Burton films called Nightmare before Christmas. It's the tenth song, Kidnap the Sandy Claws on the original soundtrack composed and lyricaled by Danny Elfman. These two men are utter geniuses.
Prologue: Fountain of Blood
-----------------
He was lurking behind the hedges that lined the Domino park. It was nearly eleven, which normally meant that the lovely young couples would be strolling just once more through the park from their cinemas to romantically cuddle and make-out on their favorite benches. It had been raining all day and hadn't stopped for the night. They seemed to be out of luck tonight.
His partner gripped his hand in anxious anticipation.
"Can we have that one?"
He turned his full concentration to a short Japanese girl with long hair running in ebony waves down her back. Right between her slender shoulder blades. His mother told him once -when she still loved him- that the shoulder blades were once where our wings were. When we were still angels.
What was special about this girl that his partner pointed out? Was it her long legs that disappeared up her blue jean skirt to meet in a perfect nest of shiny black curls guarding an even better treasure? How he'd like to taste that treasure. Was she bleeding? Oh, he hoped so; he loved the way the blood tasted when it was fresh from between a woman's thighs. Sweet and ripe.
"How does she smell?" He asked his partner, his breath against her ear, making her shiver. He watched his partner concentrate and lick her lips, making them gleam in the moonlight that penetrated through the thick blanket of leaves above them. He smiled and watched her think. He could almost see the cogs turning in her lovely head.
"Oh, I think she'll do." His partner nodded her head quickly in affirmation, her hair wriggling loose from the poorly crafted topknot. She rubbed her hands together and smacked her lips, almost tasting the woman in her lovely mouth. "I think she'll do quite nicely, Shiva."
Shiva and his lovely Lady Durga. Of course, these were not their real names, they were code names. Aliases if you will. They were not stupid enough to call each other by their birth given names, heaven forbid! Such idiocy would surely bring their demise. No, Shiva had picked out these names carefully with endless books and research of deities, manifestations, and ghosts with a destructive reputation. Who else but the Indian God of Destruction and his female manifestation?
Durga was reputed to be a beautiful but fierce yellow woman who rode upon a buffalo or tiger and she was usually armed. He moved his hands around to the front of Durga's blouse underneath her leather jacket and found the pistol he expected to find, and smiled. She was living up to her reputation. All she needed to do was paint her lovely pale skin yellow.
They would make the world pay for their pain.
They'd paint it red with the blood of those who hurt them.
They'd start from the outside, just to get used to it, and work their way in to those who really needed to be taught a lesson.
Durga gripped his hand and they began to walk. They sniggered and nipped lovingly at each other's throats with sharp fangs, barley scraping the flesh that protected the Vein. They played the roles of an adoring couple perfectly.
They were right behind the girl. The way she crossed her arms in front of her made her shoulders shrink in vulnerability.
"I want to taste her," Durga whispered as she wrapped her arm around his waist. She always put her index finger in the loop right outside his belt buckle. As they walked faster her elbow bounced lightly off his firm ass.
"I know you do, darling."
"Look at the way her shoulders shrink as she walks." His partner eagerly sucked on her lower lip. She hadn't fed in so long. They'd been drinking each other and stolen blood from the bank. It wasn't nearly as good as a fresh kill. The way the warm blood ran over their tongues was erotic; it made her wet and eager as it made him stiff and hurting.
"Precious lady," Shiva sang softly.
"I love you." Durga murmured. She turned her head and nodded. There wasn't anyone in the park. Not tonight; it was supposed to rain. They were lucky they even found this Asian morsel.
Oh so lucky.
Durga came from behind, clamping her elegant hand over the girl's small mouth and expertly using her left leg to pin her against her body for support. If the girl tried to run, she'd be tripped by Durga's foot before she got anywhere. Shiva bit into her throat before they were rewarded with a scream.
The girl struggled against her aggressors like a deer in the mouth of a large muscular tiger. It hurt her beyond belief but she had to get loose. She needed to feed the cats that were at home. Her two black Persians. They shed all over the place and there were always strands of fur on her clothes. Who would feed them if she died?
Shiva held the girl's face in his large hands and painted intricate designs on her face with his bloody tongue, allowing Durga to suck their prey dry. They didn't need very much; one person would fill them for days.
"Her light is fading, away. . .dimming like a dying light bulb. Poof!" Durga squealed, her fingers suddenly splayed out as if they were exploding.
Shiva took the blonde in his arms and inhaled the scent of her, sandalwood and blood. "What do you want to do with her?"
Durga wriggled free from his grasp and took the girl's limp arms. "Get her feet." Her partner was stumped for a moment, his hands on his hips and his dark sunglasses reflected the instant irritation on her lovely face. "Pick up her fucking feet."
He did just that. They dragged her to the three level fountain in the middle of the park. It was well lit but they weren't worried about being stopped. A lesser person would, but they weren't mere mortals. They were vampires.
"I left just enough." Durga smiled, her bloodstained teeth were straight, and Shiva only knew it was because of the braces she had to wear when she was thirteen. She had been so angry and resentful that she didn't leave her room for a week. Durga climbed to the top of the fountain; the water was cold and stained her jeans pure black. She twisted off the head with a swift turn and stuck it on the very tip of the samurai statue's sword. "Shiskabob." She licked her fingers clean and jumped the five feet to the ground where the rest of the once lovely girl lay in the bottom pool, tinting the water a faint pink. "The water recycles itself so it will be a lovely kool-aid pink until some poor soul comes running in the park and sees my artwork."
"This is how it starts," Shiva brushed a stray leaf from his leather jacket and they began their sojourn back to their flat. "We slowly make our way to the gingerbread house to see the witch who fed us poisoned sugar and would sooner cook us in a boiling pot of snake and spider stew."
"I don't like spiders." Durga murmured, leaning her head onto his shoulder.
"I know, darling. I know." He put a protective arm around her waist and they walked together. It would be dawn soon and though that nonsense about vampires turning to ash the moment they're touched by sunlight was a myth, they wanted to be in before the first light hit. They were very tired and skin cancer went around like a plague.
A lot like death.
----------------
To Be Continued. . .
Author: Orenji Kaniku
Rating: R
Warnings: Strong language, violence, gore, and multiple character deaths
Summary: Detectives Yami Yugi Motou and Jounochi Katsuya are called out to a murder that screams, "VAMPIRE". Do they have reason to believe that a mythical creature did this or is it just a disturbed citizen?
Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh!
Betas: Liger, Yami27, and Homogenic
Notes: I tried to get this story close to how things actually are in the Law Enforcement field with the endless research because not only am I going into this field and I have learned a lot, I thought it would be beneficial to those who are still looking for a career to match their own personality or just to read something that isn't completely fiction. I hope you learn something.
The "Snake and Spider stew" bit is from one of my favorite Tim Burton films called Nightmare before Christmas. It's the tenth song, Kidnap the Sandy Claws on the original soundtrack composed and lyricaled by Danny Elfman. These two men are utter geniuses.
Prologue: Fountain of Blood
-----------------
He was lurking behind the hedges that lined the Domino park. It was nearly eleven, which normally meant that the lovely young couples would be strolling just once more through the park from their cinemas to romantically cuddle and make-out on their favorite benches. It had been raining all day and hadn't stopped for the night. They seemed to be out of luck tonight.
His partner gripped his hand in anxious anticipation.
"Can we have that one?"
He turned his full concentration to a short Japanese girl with long hair running in ebony waves down her back. Right between her slender shoulder blades. His mother told him once -when she still loved him- that the shoulder blades were once where our wings were. When we were still angels.
What was special about this girl that his partner pointed out? Was it her long legs that disappeared up her blue jean skirt to meet in a perfect nest of shiny black curls guarding an even better treasure? How he'd like to taste that treasure. Was she bleeding? Oh, he hoped so; he loved the way the blood tasted when it was fresh from between a woman's thighs. Sweet and ripe.
"How does she smell?" He asked his partner, his breath against her ear, making her shiver. He watched his partner concentrate and lick her lips, making them gleam in the moonlight that penetrated through the thick blanket of leaves above them. He smiled and watched her think. He could almost see the cogs turning in her lovely head.
"Oh, I think she'll do." His partner nodded her head quickly in affirmation, her hair wriggling loose from the poorly crafted topknot. She rubbed her hands together and smacked her lips, almost tasting the woman in her lovely mouth. "I think she'll do quite nicely, Shiva."
Shiva and his lovely Lady Durga. Of course, these were not their real names, they were code names. Aliases if you will. They were not stupid enough to call each other by their birth given names, heaven forbid! Such idiocy would surely bring their demise. No, Shiva had picked out these names carefully with endless books and research of deities, manifestations, and ghosts with a destructive reputation. Who else but the Indian God of Destruction and his female manifestation?
Durga was reputed to be a beautiful but fierce yellow woman who rode upon a buffalo or tiger and she was usually armed. He moved his hands around to the front of Durga's blouse underneath her leather jacket and found the pistol he expected to find, and smiled. She was living up to her reputation. All she needed to do was paint her lovely pale skin yellow.
They would make the world pay for their pain.
They'd paint it red with the blood of those who hurt them.
They'd start from the outside, just to get used to it, and work their way in to those who really needed to be taught a lesson.
Durga gripped his hand and they began to walk. They sniggered and nipped lovingly at each other's throats with sharp fangs, barley scraping the flesh that protected the Vein. They played the roles of an adoring couple perfectly.
They were right behind the girl. The way she crossed her arms in front of her made her shoulders shrink in vulnerability.
"I want to taste her," Durga whispered as she wrapped her arm around his waist. She always put her index finger in the loop right outside his belt buckle. As they walked faster her elbow bounced lightly off his firm ass.
"I know you do, darling."
"Look at the way her shoulders shrink as she walks." His partner eagerly sucked on her lower lip. She hadn't fed in so long. They'd been drinking each other and stolen blood from the bank. It wasn't nearly as good as a fresh kill. The way the warm blood ran over their tongues was erotic; it made her wet and eager as it made him stiff and hurting.
"Precious lady," Shiva sang softly.
"I love you." Durga murmured. She turned her head and nodded. There wasn't anyone in the park. Not tonight; it was supposed to rain. They were lucky they even found this Asian morsel.
Oh so lucky.
Durga came from behind, clamping her elegant hand over the girl's small mouth and expertly using her left leg to pin her against her body for support. If the girl tried to run, she'd be tripped by Durga's foot before she got anywhere. Shiva bit into her throat before they were rewarded with a scream.
The girl struggled against her aggressors like a deer in the mouth of a large muscular tiger. It hurt her beyond belief but she had to get loose. She needed to feed the cats that were at home. Her two black Persians. They shed all over the place and there were always strands of fur on her clothes. Who would feed them if she died?
Shiva held the girl's face in his large hands and painted intricate designs on her face with his bloody tongue, allowing Durga to suck their prey dry. They didn't need very much; one person would fill them for days.
"Her light is fading, away. . .dimming like a dying light bulb. Poof!" Durga squealed, her fingers suddenly splayed out as if they were exploding.
Shiva took the blonde in his arms and inhaled the scent of her, sandalwood and blood. "What do you want to do with her?"
Durga wriggled free from his grasp and took the girl's limp arms. "Get her feet." Her partner was stumped for a moment, his hands on his hips and his dark sunglasses reflected the instant irritation on her lovely face. "Pick up her fucking feet."
He did just that. They dragged her to the three level fountain in the middle of the park. It was well lit but they weren't worried about being stopped. A lesser person would, but they weren't mere mortals. They were vampires.
"I left just enough." Durga smiled, her bloodstained teeth were straight, and Shiva only knew it was because of the braces she had to wear when she was thirteen. She had been so angry and resentful that she didn't leave her room for a week. Durga climbed to the top of the fountain; the water was cold and stained her jeans pure black. She twisted off the head with a swift turn and stuck it on the very tip of the samurai statue's sword. "Shiskabob." She licked her fingers clean and jumped the five feet to the ground where the rest of the once lovely girl lay in the bottom pool, tinting the water a faint pink. "The water recycles itself so it will be a lovely kool-aid pink until some poor soul comes running in the park and sees my artwork."
"This is how it starts," Shiva brushed a stray leaf from his leather jacket and they began their sojourn back to their flat. "We slowly make our way to the gingerbread house to see the witch who fed us poisoned sugar and would sooner cook us in a boiling pot of snake and spider stew."
"I don't like spiders." Durga murmured, leaning her head onto his shoulder.
"I know, darling. I know." He put a protective arm around her waist and they walked together. It would be dawn soon and though that nonsense about vampires turning to ash the moment they're touched by sunlight was a myth, they wanted to be in before the first light hit. They were very tired and skin cancer went around like a plague.
A lot like death.
----------------
To Be Continued. . .