Chapter three n.n
BTW in case any of you are interested, Crow T Robot made a BIT/Hellsing crossover called Colligation . Give it a looksee if you got time nay?
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Kratos sat by the bedside, running his fingers through Lloyd's bangs as the boy lay still on the bed. The strain his body underwent at the sudden change had left him exhausted, and with the coming of dawn, he hadn't last much longer than a minute. At his side a bat sat, tail coiled around its body, watching the young prince sleep.
"Your highness?"
He didn't turn to look, knowing quite well through his sense of smell who was there, and exactly where he stood.
"What is it?" he asked flatly, not looking away from his heir.
"Forgive the intrusion, your highness," the vampire bowed. "I was just making certain there was nothing further you required for the young prince."
"No. Not as of now." Kratos said flatly. "You're dismissed, and I don't want anyone else entering these quarters unless I say otherwise. Are we clear? I wish time alone with my son."
"As you wish, your highness."
Then he was gone.
It hadn't been hard to find this place, not really. It was very obvious, actually, when one thought of it. In the depths of the Temple of Darkness the vampires had returned to, after Maetala had died at his hands. They had been expecting Lloyd to return, as their king, but they asked few questions when Kratos returned in his stead. After all, to question him, especially when carrying the prince's limp form, wasn't very wise. Besides…
Lloyd would be their king eventually.
The room was surprisingly well furnished, but unlike most undead, his species had always had a taste for the elegant. Given how long the small community of vampires had lived down here, it was only natural they had amassed an impressive collection of furnishings. Passing for human did have its perks, and theft was always easy when the funds were not available… This room was in fact part of a building of its own, as several near-mansion like habitats had been created in the depths of this temple…
It wasn't quite like his home had been, but it had a similar…flair.
When he had been young, he had lived in a castle, a citadel swathed in darkness and kissed by its vespers. There had been many bats, an entire legion compared to the quarter that remained to him now. That was back when their kind was strong, prevalent, when they did not slink around in the cracks of the earth. There had been many hunters, he recalled…people that came and killed them, if they could. Though during the war the idiots were much too busy killing themselves. Did they really think if they just ignored them, they wouldn't have interfered, especially with so much blood coming about as a result? Humans really were foolish…
Maetala had taught him how to hunt, how to feed, the various…'flavors' and what indicated them. What to prey on, what to avoid…though really there was only one species he had been taught to avoid.
Kratos frowned.
That was the only thing that had saved Noishe from his fangs, when he found him. A squawking, flailing bird, one wing broken and useless as he tried to get airborne. It was only a matter of time before some beast came along and killed him, killed the protozoan and ate it properly.
"Their blood is poison," he could nearly hear his maetala tell him. "Kill it. Kill it before it kills you, but never partake of its blood."
Would have been so easy to have snapped his neck, left him there…but his curiosity had been peaked. He had never seen a protozoan…
That's where it all started, he thought to himself, frowning.
He had helped Noishe, had healed his wing, had even taken care of him. Why? What had possessed him? Perhaps it was just the rebellious nature of a young boy, interested in an intelligent creature he had heard so little of, except that it was deadly. He had failed to see what was so deadly about a big bird, until Noishe had almost clawed his eye out upon their first meeting. Though if anything that had only served his curiosity more… Then it was through that, through his connection to Noishe he began to get glimpses of humans, of half-elves, eventually of the Yggdrasill's…
It should never have happened. He should have killed Noishe right there.
…No. He shouldn't have. While this was inevitable, he could not say he regretted sparing the protozoan. He had been a loyal companion and friend all these years, and he did not regret meeting the Yggdrasills and Yuan, though he did regret the years that followed. But…that path had led him to Anna, and Anna had led to the boy sleeping before him. His son…his heir…
His mother would still be here. If he had been like this from the beginning, Anna would still be here, with them. He frowned, his fingers curling tightly into his hands. If he had just turned her, made her one of them, he could have saved her. She would have lived, she would be there with them, right now, they could still be a family. Anna could have been his queen, and they could have raised Lloyd together, could have ruled together. If he had been this to begin with, he would have had the power to leave Cruxis years ago, to break free of these petty struggles of a twisted world. Lloyd would see; he would, in time. It was better to be this than human. Sure there was the matter of sunlight, but he could learn to bear it in time, but other than that what was wrong with it? Besides the thirst…but….
Blood was so satisfying anyway…
Lloyd began to stir, groaning, his eyes shut tight. The teen was aware of nothing, of nothing but darkness and an ache in his fangs. Nothing-
Scent.
Yes, scent. He could smell…smell someone there, smell the sheets around him, smell the room. He curled up deeper into the blankets, trying to soak up some of their comfort, their softness, their war-…no, they weren't warm. They were cool, cold….but refreshingly so. Like diving into a cool lake on a hot summer day…
A hand brushed his forehead and he whimpered, curling up into the mattress. It was comfortable and his head hurt, he didn't want to wake up yet. Just sleep, sleep it away, sleep and try to ignore what he knew had happened. As if he refused to open his eyes, then it wouldn't become real. Just sleep, just make it go away….
The lip of a glass met his mouth and he felt his head tilted to it, as the glass tilted to his lips in turn. The fluid trickled in, seeping between his teeth, over his tongue, a tingle of contentment shuddering down his spine. He didn't open his eyes, but he swallowed, gulping the sustenance like a babe from its bottle. Slowly his eyes opened, meeting the face of his father, who held the wineglass to his lips, the rich red liquid dark as oil in the dim light.
"There you are, Lloyden…" Kratos whispered, stroking his cheek. "Are you feeling all right?"
Lloyd stared at him. He glanced around the room, at the strange surroundings, at the bat at Kratos' side and the darkness that surrounded them. He knew what he had swallowed, there was no questioning it, and he knew what that meant. That was all he needed to know. So then, what…what could he do? What…
He closed his eyes and began to cry.
Did he look pathetic? He was sure he did. How couldn't he look pathetic, crying after just – after – but he was- he was so sick of this. He didn't want to do this anymore, he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be this. He- he just- he wasn't going to give up, he told himself. He wouldn't, he couldn't, but no matter what he told himself his body would not cooperate, the tears flowing freely from his eyes as he choked and sputtered. For that moment he couldn't think of anything, couldn't plan anything, couldn't do anything. He was useless, broken, weak, tired… He had never felt so entirely helpless in his life.
"There there, Lloyd…." Kratos said softly, pulling him into a hug, rubbing his back. "I know you're upset…"
"L- Let go- Don't touch me!"
Lloyd shoved his father back, scrambling back on the bed until his back hit the wall. He flinched and hissed, grimacing at his self-inflicted pain. Realizing the sound that escaped him he shut his mouth tightly, glaring at his father. Kratos merely looked at him, his eyes a dim red, surveying him, like- like a piece of meat, like prey…
Kratos stood up.
"I'll give you some time to calm down, Lloyden," he said, his expression lax nearly bored looking. "I understand you need some time to accept, but don't worry…once you feed a few times you'll lose your abrasion to it. It'll go much smoother from there, much easier for you…"
"I don't want it to be easy!" he half-shrieked, aware of how his body shook. "I- w- what happened to my clothes?"
A set of black silken nightclothes sat against his pale flesh, making him even paler in comparison, and his usual attire didn't' seem to be in the room anywhere-
"I disposed of them for you," Kratos answered flatly. "…You're not to dress like a farmboy any longer, you're above that."
"F- Farmboy-? M- My dad made me those-!"
He barely realized what he had done until Kratos reacted. The King's hand whipped out and grabbed him by the collar of his nightshirt yanking him forward. Lloyd yelped, jerking and then freezing when he locked eyes with his father the irises blazing red. Had his skin not already been devoid of pigmentation he would have paled at the fire searing inside his father's eyes.
"I'm your father," he hissed, low, flat.
Lloyd stammered, trying to force his mouth to cooperate with him.
"I- I- y- yeah I know- you are, Dad, but-"
"No."
Kratos dropped him and Lloyd realized he had been hoisted up into the air, the bed screeching a bit as it adjusted to the sudden weight of his body. The teen could only stare, shaking, his body limp and the dried tears felt hot against his icy cheek. Kratos glowered at him, his eyes narrowed.
"I'm your father, raised by a dwarf or not, he could never be your father," he growled.
The empty glass on the bedstand cracked suddenly, splitting the side. Lloyd's eyes widened, glancing to the glass and then back to the vampiric king.
"You are my son, you are a vampire, you are a prince, you belong here, with me, with us," Kratos continued, and the glass cracked once again. "I'm not going to ask you to forget your past, Lloyden, oh no…"
The glass shattered, Lloyd instinctively drawing back.
"But I will make one thing very clear, Lloyden, and you will understand."
He hadn't even realized he had been staring at the shattered glass until icy fingers grabbed his chin, turning him to face his father. Kratos smiled then, but it was not a friendly gesture- no, that's what was horrible about it. It WAS a friendly gesture, there was nothing but genuine affection for him in those eyes, but that affection was laced with rage, bitterness..jealousy, even? Yes. Yes that had to be it, that had to be what had set him off, when he had mentioned Dirk, his other father-
"This is your life now, and you will live in the now," he said softly, is other hand snaking its way through his brown hair. "Trust me, Lloyden…the past will do nothing for you, not anymore."
Kratos pulled back, the teen remaining frozen in place. With not another word Kratos left the room, leaving Lloyd alone-
With the bat.
His eyes darted to the bat, which merely returned his gaze, the eyes boring into his. It cocked its head, flaring its wings and then slipping through the window, swift and fluid, like a phantom in its own right. Lloyd stared out the window, into the perfect darkness, then back at the glass shards on the bedstand. The large pieces had fractured, the remaining drops of blood seeping into them, like veins etched into their pale surface.
His arms wrapped around his torso, doubling over as he sat on the bed, his bangs falling before his face, brushing the silken blankets under him. He stared into the dark cloth, seeing the tiny strains of braided fibers, twisting, knotting together like the dark roots that crossed the woods where this hell had begun. If he hadn't gotten lost, if that- that woman had never have found him, this never would have happened. He wouldn't be here, like this, he would be with his friends, he would never have had to worry about this, he would have just stayed dormant- right?
Was…was that what Kratos was talking about? Was that why he had started thinking like this? Would- would it have, out of nowhere, someday have just triggered, when he was older? What would he have done, had that happened? Would he have hurt the others? Someone completely innocent? Would- yes.
…Yes, he would have, just like that girl in Sybak, just like the Desians he had ripped apart for the sake of that smell, for the sake of watching it spray into the air and fall.
He would have bitten Colette, he would have taken her for his bride.
A sob wracked his body and he dug his fingers deeper into his arms. He lurched and he felt like he was throwing up, but his stomach would not relinquish the contents. Why would it, after all? His stomach was just as greedy as his fangs, as his tongue, soaking in every…single…little….drop….
Did this make him a hypocrite, he wondered? After all he had said, to Colette, to Raine and Genis, that it didn't matter what you were, you were still you-?
No…no that was different, he told himself. Colette was an angel, Raine and Genis were half-elves, they weren't- monsters, they weren't… They were good people, they were still good people regardless of what they were. That…was that…even an option here, now, for him? How could he be anything remotely 'good' when he couldn't even make choices, when he couldn't control himself, when every instinct and urge in his body forced him to kill and- …and…
And no matter how much he would tell himself he didn't, he knew, he would enjoy it.
He'd enjoy every single bit of it, and when his mind screamed it was horrible, that only seemed to make him enjoy it more, for the very reason that it was horrible.
He buried his face in his hands, letting out a strangled cry in place for the urge to vomit. There…there had to be …there had to be something, right? There had to be- something- anything! He'd take anything! He just couldn't – he couldn't live like this, no, no he couldn't- he couldn't be this-
But he was this.
The single thought silenced the cacophony of the others inside his head. He froze staring into nothing, feeling nothing but his body shaking.
He was this…he…he couldn't escape it. He was everything Kratos had said, he didn't like it, no, but it didn't matter if he liked it or not, this was reality.
Lloyd sat, motionless, frozen, thoughtless, for how long he wasn't sure. Did it even matter? What did time matter, now? Time in some hell he would never escape, time when he would live for countless years, unable to escape the hell his life had become. How long, until he lost himself to it? How long until it swallowed him up as he would swallow mouthfuls of carnage? It wouldn't, he told himself, or tried. But Kratos…Kratos had had control, but it was only for…for just a while. He had slipped so fast, been consumed by it, had accepted- no, embraced it.
He shivered, tears brimming in his eyes once again.
How long could he hold on until he became like that? Before he became a monster too? He would try to resist, he would try to fight, he would try to hold onto it with all he could but…
But she had done it, she had broken him in a matter of days. Kratos had him now, for as long as he wanted…forever, even- no, not forever, they…they did die, eventually-
He froze.
Before that…Kratos would do it. He would…he would perform…the ritual, he would… Perform his inauguration.
His eyes widened, his heart beginning to beat loudly in his chest.
That- that thing…that thing inside his body, that thing had consumed him, had overridden him, he couldn't even fight, not at all. Couldn't resist it- he hadn't wanted to. He hadn't wanted to resist it, he had wanted to relish in it, to soak in it, to become one with the power- oh the glorious power-
He slammed his hands onto his head, shaking it violently, breathing hard as his fingers dug into his scalp, pulling at his hair.
No. No no no no no. No! He didn't want to! He didn't want to end up like that- he didn't want to-
He had to get out of here. Where would he go? He had no idea. What would he do? Likewise. But- but staying here, staying with Kratos would be to seal his fate. And he couldn't do that- he couldn't-
Couldn't….
His tongue licked his lower lip, the lingering taste tingling in his mouth.
It was good.
He collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow and trying, desperately, to wake himself up. That was all he had that could make him cope, the desperation of trying to wake up and the despair of knowing it was not a dream.
Yay finally a full length chapter ! n.n Sorry it took so long but this was NOT a good month to write fanfics -_- soooo many tests coming up, ugh. Well anyway hope you liked n.n