He grew weary of the rules, being imposed by him; the allegiance he was forced to give a burden far outweighing anything he had ever felt. He was a flunky by some standards; he had never been coerced to follow the rules. Unless you counted his training years, but that was never about murder that was about duty, his handlers praised him on many occasions for his stealth, his cunning and he wore his past exploits like a badge. He resented him, his master, and the creature that held his un-life in his hands. but he had no choice but to follow his commands. His mind and body commanded to a power much older than he ever bore witness.
Drusilla, his savior, his dark angel, was a black goddess of his allegiance, she was the sanity that held him by a thread, his command, his unfailing desire to please her, was his main wish. To see her beam her long dark lashes to him and grant him favor.
Angelus; he had never cowered to another in his entire existence like this one. Even with faced with death at the hands of X5-494 he showed no fear. He was always being told to wait, stay away from the slayer; she belonged to Angelus his Master, his sire's sire. His sire was ten kinds of crazy but he couldn't resist her, he had hoped to hunt tonight but his master, king of his new life. He obeyed when his request was one, he knew he would enjoy. His order was simple, 'Kill as many of them as you can, no turning them, leave them bloody for all to see, make sure they know who they are opposing by holding my property.' Angelus had turned with a dark sinister smile, 'Make sure you leave several of these creatures lying about to make it look as though it was their doing…'
Angelus added before Dante had left, 'leave the messages I told you to leave…'
He had only questioned him briefly, when his master had turned to him quick as a flash and had him by the throat, his feet dangling, 'I do believe I told you not to question me.' Off Drusilla's tsking, Angelus dropped him, informing him with a matter of fact, grin. 'She will know…she will understand…' she is the one this is all for.'
He stalked into the night, his mistress giving him a passionate kiss, 'Make princess happy.' And with that he knew he would, he would leave them all bloody if she desired, all the putrid, vile transgenic bodies would litter the streets if she desired and he wanted to please her above all else'
Hours later…
The cries of the tortured transgenic rang through the nighttime. He had been given free reign told by his sire's sire to create bloody artistry, he told him how to pose the bodies, he truly enjoyed this work, if he admitted to himself, even when he was, did he dare say human.
He was never human by the normal's standards, he never would've been considered human. But now, he was so much more than he ever had been, he could feel the worms moving in the dirt, the insects flapping their wings. He could smell their blood, the glorious elixir moving beneath the surface of their skin.
His hands and mouth among other things covered in their powerful blood, he grinned with his fangs still elongated. His dark eyes surveyed the destruction he had wreaked. His mistress would be pleased; he had killed at least five humans arranging their bodies to Angelus request. Upon that he had also killed at least three transgenic arranged as if they had done the original killing, despite his desire to kill the witness, Angelus warned him, if he failed.
He left the one woman alive, when she cried desperately, begging him to spare her, he gave her the message, the one Angelus made him repeat several times, and it shrilled in head as his bloodlust had almost taken the woman's life. 'Tell them all…make sure they know we will kill more…each day until they surrender to us…' When the sobbing woman asked him who?' he replied with his human façade…
'They will know us as transgenic, Manticore, the mutants who will own this town in time.' And with that, he left her crying out into the night with the carnage he had left her in the midst of.
He grinned maniacally to himself, his mistress would be pleased, and the fact he got to kill his former comrades gave him a sick sense of accomplishment. She had made him a promise... promised him that his revenge for 494, the one known as Alec would come in time, but for him to wait. That the stars did not sing of his demise yet….
Dante began to smile as his fangs elongated and his mouth salivated for the opportunity to torture the X5-494.
The song his mistress sang to him earlier warmed him as the melody swam through his walking corpse;
Dangerous games, do we play with our food
Unbridled lust, hunger surging…hear their cries answer the urging…
The anger and pain…do we gain…poor little lamb,
Have such big teeth…
Ooo…she walks alone, the big cat…fooled by the one who wears her face…
His mind all swamped with delicious candies…
She then turned to him with her usual moment of clarity…
'Go now…grandma is near…poor little slayer …her eyes show tears…'
Yes, his mistress would be pleased, he neither understood nor cared what his mistress spoke of, only that he remain in her good graces, give into whatever her request.
Dante revolved his dark head slightly, moving his eyes mysteriously over the crowd, their smell intoxicated him, but he had been well fed this night and his sire strictly forbade him to kill other than those he wished.
His attraction and allure to the human females since his change had multiplied in spades; his mistress had taught him that. They loved him, without a doubt. His popularity was certainly nothing to scoff about. But would they love him still, if they knew that he was a vampire?
But on all accounts, would they have loved him as a transgenic, the answer would be no on both questions. . It was difficult to imagine that he'd ever been humanlike such a short time ago, His thoughts drifted like the smell of popcorn that was heavy in the air as he heard the screams of the woman as the sector police had just found the mini-massacre he had left for them.
Another bonus as a vampire transgenic, his hearing was so good; he could hear and zero in on most conversations. There were exceptions of course. His abilities seemed defined more times than others, but while in the crowds, he was warned to keep his human face in view at all times, he was like a whisper, he was heard when he needed to be but ignored when it was necessary. Yes Dante was pleased, his mistress would pleased and his new existence was having more benefits each day, and each mouth-watering pleasure he derived from the bodies of the ones he chose, was getting more and more delectable.