bloodred
Disclaimers: Don't own Digimon. Never will ;___;
Dedicated: To Suki, thanks for all the times you cheered me up. I know you don't support the pairings in here, but I promise you that will change ;)
Warnings: Alternative Universe, angst (have I ever written a story without angst?) oh, and maybe a little bit of incest somewhere during this story if I am in the mood.
Pairing: Taito, Yamachi, Kenato (more pairings in later parts)
Notes: This once started out as a Vampire Chronicle Fic, but since the archive was shut down it never was finished and forgotten on my harddrive. I found it today and decided, in my opinion, it was too good an idea to waste away.
So, here it is again, some parts stayed the same, some were changed and new chapters are going to be added.
Blood Red Moon
Moonlight falling in silver streams on my face, cutting through the darkness of my cell, painting light on rough stone walls surrounding me, breaking on the steel of the cuffs that hold me to the table.
No pain anymore, my muscles long gone numb in the time I am streched out here. How long has it been anyway?
How long ago had it been that I have been arrested here? That she has been killed? Or is she still alive? I don´t know, they wont tell me. Or have they tell me and I forgot? Did not register it?
It would be no wonder with my drug befuddled mind, their narcotica holding me in a gentle grip, clouding my mind, slowing my brain.
I can´t count the days I have been in here, can´t count how often golden sunlight gave way to the silver of the moon, falling throught that small window. The only way out of here, but unreachable, out of my grab, even if it is not more than a few feet away. I would be as sucessful as if I try to catch a star.
Will I end here?
Will I die here?
After all I have been through?
After all the pain?
All the loose?
Was that his plan all along?
All that trouble.
All that chasing.
All that murder.
All for this?
To let it end like this?
My sister will die by the hands of the inquisition, or is already dead.
Funny, I don´t feel anything anymore, I don´t freak of when thinking of her beautiful face disfigured with the mask of death. Must be the drugs.
And I...
I am closed away in the highest tower of the mental asylum. Closed away as hopeless case.
Mad laughter rises somewhere in the old stone building, echoing from the walls and reaches me also up here, sounding like the sweet music of broken bells in my ears, piercing through the mist in my head.
I can picture it, picture it how somewhere a door opens and two figures in black robes emerge from it, one carrying a small bottle, the clear liquid in it reflecting the dancing light of the torches. Long shadows falling on the floor as the move to a heavy door, opening it, gliding in it as if nothing more than moving darkness, pressing a black cloth against the mouth of the laughing, who is bound to a table, just like me, how slowly the laughter fades and the eyes of the poor bastard roll back, revealing the white under the eyes, before the lids close over them, the body may spasming a few times before it went slack. The sleeping drug effective as ever. And the black clothed move on, letting the mad alone in his haunted dreams.
I know it.
How often has it happened to me here...
I close my eyes briefly, wanting to go back to sleep, back to my nightmares.
They are better than this, better than this hopeless reality. I want back to my dreams of murder and running away.
At least I can run away in my dreams.
Here is no chance.
No way to get out.
I consider screaming, laughing or cursing the gods, so that they would came for me too, this black shadows, to bring me merciful sleep.
I don´t.
I can´t.
Can´t find the strength to open my mouth, to form a sound. Lying there, not able to do something.
I want to die.
I don´t want to live anymore.
Why hasn´t he killed me?
Why haven´t I thrown myself in his blade?
Why haven´t I given my live for that of my sister?
Why have I been a goddamned coward?
Why haven´t I done something to save my friends?
I could have.
I should have.
"But you didn´t."
My eyes snap open at this softly spoken words, not more than a cold breeze drifting through the room, it probably would have been missed by those not knowing the voice.
That soft, velvet voice with the cutting edges.
So familiar to me.
Familiar like my own.
That voice that I fear and hate.
Is he here or are the after effects of the narcotics playing with my senses?
I slowly turn my head, scratching over the wood under me, my eyes wandering to the window, the light of the moon blocked out by a figure, sitting on the sill, one long leg resting on it. Sitting there, comfortable, like he has always been there.
The silver light illuminating him from behind, the contours of his body glowing in the soft shine, the hair, the strands dancing softly in the night breeze, nearly white, a hallow around a face that lies hidden in shadow.
But I don´t have to see his face to know who it is.
I know him.
Every perfect feature, every lock of golden hair, how it falls, how it feels.
Know the shining blue crystals, where should be his eyes as he rises his lids to look at me, his gaze shifting over my bound and helpless body.
I know he is smiling.
I close my eyes as he soundlessly leaves his place at the window, close my eyes, so that I would not see his elegant walk over to me, so that I would not fall for his spell.
The spell of those eyes of this beautiful demon with the angelic face.
I hate him.
He is the reason why I am here.
He is the reason why I am in this nuthouse.
The reason why my sister has to die.
"No. You are the reason."
I feel his breath against my skin, stroking my lips, let me shiver.
Too near.
"Only because of you."
His fingers wandering over my cheek, cold so cold his skin, tracing patterns I can not follow, leaving fire in their wake. Trailing over my nose, stopping short before my mouth.
"Open your eyes."
I don´t want to, I don´t want. But I do, my body responding to his command without my consent, his voice not giving a other choice but following his will.
As I look up I stare into a set of eyes, so near to my face, so near, our noses nearly touching. Blue, so blue, not the cold splinters of ice, this eyes, a soft blue like the sky of my homelands that I haven´t seen in years, not a cold blue, piercing and destroying. Those eyes, soft, deep, a shimmer of desire in them.
So near.
I can see every lash, long and thick, a golden colour even in the darkness.
Too near.
His lips graze mine, first shortly, not more than a brush of wind, so soft that it could have never happened, a whisper of velvet caress, but then he is there again, forcefully, claiming my trembling lips in a bruising kiss. One hand holding my head in place, clawed into my hair as I try to escape his demanding mouth, the other running over my chest, easily shreeding the thin fabric of the silk shirt, a warm trail of blood following his fingers, where nails have broken my skin.
No.
I want to throw him of, but my caught hands flex helplessly in their bounds, the fingers curling and uncurling slowly, not able to do anything.
I want to scream at him, yell and cry.
But only a single tear slides down my face, falling into tangled waves of blond and brown hair and gets lost.
Not a scream comes over my lips, but a hoarse groan, lost into his mouth as it closes more firmly over mine, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue past my lips. Coaxing me to return the kiss.
Warm, so warm and sweet against mine. The only warm thing in him, except his blood.
Sweet nectar that I crave and damn.
That I hate and don´t want to live without.
I hate him, even as I arch into his kiss, even as my tongue curls around his and suckles on it, even as my body streams against its holds to press against him, as his slender frame moves above me.
I hate him with the depth of my heart.
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Beautiful mortal.
Beautiful child.
My blood.
Your blood.
The same.
Cursing in your veins.
The blood of humans.
The blood of mages.
Creating.
Creating the same cursed creature as two thousand years ago.
Creating the same misery within your heart.
Creating an unrivalable beauty.
So beautiful, elegant. Even now stretched out on raw wood, with tangled hair and dirty clothes, a mystery on your own.
A mystery I have created.
They think about you, those servants of Morpheus, I can hear their thought, clear and sharp.
They are wondering about you.
Wondering if you are insane or not. If those words falling from your lips in those hours of torture were true after all.
They are true.
You and I know.
Know the little secrets we share.
Know about each other.
Know you perfectly.
Believe me, my beloved child.
I know you better than all the others that have shared your bed, better than this many lovers that have kissed your lips.
I know your soul, not just your body.
Even, if this is one of the most interesting parts of you, which I have definitely enjoyed to memorise. Every curve, every angle. I know those lean muscles under silky skin better than my own. Have tasted it so often, like the fine red wine of my mortal times, a rich flavour overshadowing the slight taste of wood and freedom.
Ah, your blood.
Giving more secrets away than any pleasure filled spasm of your body, revealing so much more than that hotbreathed whispered words tainted with unwanted passion.
Sweet nectar flowing down my throat, deep red, just like your kiss swollen lips.
Glazed eyes staring up at me, deep brown, the color of the, rare cacao from the fare away southern regions, with specks of gold sparkling in them, rare treasures to be found.
The sickness of your body evident in those dark orbs, dazzled and filled with mist.
Or is it the narcotics they have slipped you?
The narcotics that makes you strain in your bonds, that makes you search the contact of my body that you normally deny like I the gods? The soft fabric of your clothes rubbing against mine.
But still rough against the texture of your skin.
Nails making short work, silk pushed aside to reveal coffeecoloured skin, stained with pearlchains of blood, perfect droplets of ruby colour running down in small rivers to stain silver gleaming silk.
Warm, swallow breathing against my lips, moist and soft. Velvet lips, full and dark, your mouth, just waiting to be plundered.
So I do.
Warm and moist, sweet and bitter, the taste of narcotics evident, scratching at my senses. Tongue against tongue, curling, fighting a battle that you will loose.
Loose like so many others before.
You are a looser my dear.
A looser in so many ways.
Lost so much.
Friends, lovers, titles, purity, pride...
Why not loose your heart to me?
Why are you so insistend in this point?
Why close yourself away from me?
Surrender.
Surrender your will like your body surrenderd to me so long ago, so often.
Ah, but it would only be half the fun.
Will, your will.
Thats the reason why I am after you.
You, not your sister.
Well, that and that you are more beautiful than her.
You know that, don´t you? Have heard the talk of those others often enough. Pity that such a face is wasted on a boy.
Sleek muscles under velvet skin, smooth tights.
Perfect.
And mine.
My lips leave yours, travelling over the soft curve of your neck, trembling, trying to flinch away from me. I can feel your pulse quickening.
Waiting, fearing the blood kiss.
No, not tonight.
But soon again.
My mouth moves future down, tongue tracing a line over your chest, licking at the few trails of blood my nails have left behind.
Sweet cream, the taste of your skin, wild honey the one of your blood.
I hear you whimper, a small, nearly unhearable sound, feel the beat of your heart, that pumps your blood through your veins.
My blood.
You are my blood.
And I will have you.
Soon my dear.
I draw back.
Slowly, leaving the warmth of your unwilling embrace. Your eyes flutter open as I leave, searching mine, glazing in a internal fever.
I smile, before I leave.
A silent promise that I will return.
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Pale moonlight illuminating empty streets, the ground, the walls.
Dull.
A dark grey, shadows playing upon the rough surface.
Twisting the shapes and creating new ones.
Frightening to the eyes of mortals.
Whispered tales about monsters, nightly creatures stalking innocents.
The blackness alive.
People keep away from the streets at night, enclosing themselves in their homes. Hoping to keep the horrors outside. If forced to walk the hours of Hades and Morpheus, the time when the two dark brothers rule, never alone.
Always in groups.
Armed.
Even if it´s only a kitchen knife.
I don´t care for this petty things.
Don´t care what lurks in the dark.
I laugh at those shadows.
For I am definitely the most dangerous out there during the nightly hours.
Hm...thinking of it, I am also the most dangerous one during daytime.
I spin around, eyes wandering over the building I have just exited. The ugly tower reaching high into the velvet blue nightsky. A dark shape, like a cut through reality.
May it´s true.
Stepping over the threshold, it leads to another world. One you don´t want to discover. Entering it, it is like stepping into the halls of Hades. Listen, try to hear more than the voices of the imprisoned mortals and you will hear the mourning of the souls.
Listen even closer and you can hear sand falling through a class, slowly, steadily. The end of us all coming near and nearer with every falling piece.
I don´t care.
Hades can´t reach me.
I can laugh in the face of death and I did it often enough.
And he wont reach you, my love.
For I broke his grasp and hold you now in mine.
And I wont let go so easily.
I always got the things I laid claim on.
Well, nearly all the time.
But you, you I will get.
My tongue snakes out, running over my upper lip, where still the taste of you lingers.
Sweet, so sweet.
I could get drunk on you.
Your taste.
So much like his, so much like mine.
My blood, my love.
Soon.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow the final blow will be delivered.
You don´t know it yet. They haven´t told you. Wont tell you.
Cruel, aren´t they?
To keep something like that from you.
They want to break you.
Aren´t we all the same?
I wonder if your courage will live through it.
Will you be the same?
Will there be the same spirit as before?
Or will you finally shatter?
Shatter like the crystal pendant of your mother, that was reduced to dust under my heel, before the light died in her eyes. Fine crystal shimmering in a lake of blood.
Or will you become stronger?
Now, that your final bond to humanity will be destroyed.
I can´t say for what I wish more.
If I want you to break, to see that courage of you reduced to nothingness, to see you taking the only way that is offered to you, my way. The way that leads to me. The only way which you will have after that. Finally getting what I want.
If not, the chase will go on, a desperate hunt. And you the prey.
The prize would even be sweeter if you keep on fighting.
Sweeter with every day that passes by. Bringing my longing to even greater heights.
I smile.
Lips slowly turning upwards, crystal laughter rising in my throat, sounding eerie in the quiet night around me.
I prefer being a hunter.
"Are you still obsessing over that mortal boy?"
Hm, it seems I am no longer the most dangerous out here...
"You have a problem with that, my friend?"
"Friend...."
Movement in the dark, a brief shifting of reality, before silverlight falls on indigo locks, reflecting on white, flawless skin, that glows like marble in the dark. Long lashes lifting, to let innocent, soulless eyes gaze at me.
Beautiful eyes, a deep violet, dark, sparkling like amethyst when the lights hits them.
Wonderful gems, perfect and precious, containing an untamed fire in their depth.
Cold and eternal flame, the same that is burning in mine.
"...Last time we met it was beloved."
"That was before you tried to kill him."
"I tried. You act as if I actually sent him away on the wings of death."
Gracefully he leans against the wall close to me. Darkblue robes clinging to his fine boned body, leaving only few things to imagination, silk caressing over perfect limbs. The fabric gently billowing in the soft breeze, allowing glimpses of the white flesh of his tights.
Perfection caught in the body of a young boy.
A blood stained saint fallen from heaven.
"I wish I had done it."
In an instant my hands are in his hair, tangling in the dark strands and forcing his head back brutally, exposing the pale flesh of his throat. Pushing him backwards against the cold stone, not caring that he hits his skull with a rather sickening sound.
"Don´t you dare touch him!"
Laughter, a laughter sounding like a velvet caress, coming deep from his throat, not indicating any pain, just plain amusement and hidden desire lacing the entrancing sound.
"And what do you want to do if I don´t?"
I can feel his breath on my skin, smell him. The fragrance of blood, the coldness of the eternal ice, surrounding him, unique.
He is so near.
"You can´t do a thing. You can´t. Even if you wanted to."
Fine boned hands coming up to touch my face, caressing my cheek. My hand still in his hair he leans forward, cold, cream coloured lips brushing against mine in the softest of contacts.
"Forget about him. Take him to your bed if you want him, kill him by drinking him dry. But forget about him. Come back with me. Come back to where you belong."
I look at him, my eyes wandering over the cold beauty at my hands. Angelic with pouting moist lips, demanding back what once belonged to him.
Slowly leaning forward, my lips nearly brushing his, I whisper to him, velvet voice, like speaking to a lover.
"I can´t forget him.
I wont forget him.
He is mine.
And if you lay a finger on him, I will break every bone in this precious body of yours. I will take those gemlike eyes of yours, your delicate hands and feet. And burn them. I will make you wish you would have never tasted eternity. I will make you beg that you weren´t immortal if you touch him, Ken."