(Vampire Hell)
Chapter Six: Doshite Kono Iru no Suru Kimi?
(Why Are You Doing This?)
"Would you like a drink, sir?"
She was a pretty woman, with blonde hair and blue eyes. So obviously American. She had a heavy New York accent, speaking quickly. The boy had to struggle to understand her. It had been years since he'd spoken English, and now he was being bombarded with beautiful, healthy-looking young women, scurrying around him, asking if he needed anything else. A pillow? A drink? Hot towel? Bag of peanuts? That was the problem with first class, he supposed.
The boy lifted his full glass of scotch to the woman, who smiled and pushed the cart further down the aisle of the airplane.
"Do you know who is in 4A?" she asked the woman at the end of the aisle, another flight attendant.
She lowered her voice to a whisper, saying in a hushed, secretive tone, "I'm not sure, but he must be famous. He's really cute."
The boy smiled to himself. Simple humans.
"He's wearing those sunglasses. Probably trying to hide his identity," the blonde woman said jokingly.
Hide his identity, huh? As if they knew. His identity was a vampire. Sunglasses or not, they would never know that. The second stewardess, this one brunette, with heavy eye make up, continued on down the aisle, carrying her steaming pot of coffee. She stopped at 4A, leaning down to get the boy's attention. Her top buttons were open, and her shirt fell forward, revealing a large bust, covered by a black lace bra. He could smell her feminine perfume. Something jasmine with a hint of lavender. "Would you like a cup of coffee, sir?" she asked slowly. This woman was southern. She definitely had the accent. The boy smiled to himself. How cute.
He continued to stare down her shirt, and a slow grin began to form upon his lips. "Sir?" she questioned, and he raised his eyes, staring over the low rims of his sunglasses. She was far from beautiful, but there was something pleasant about that warm smile she used. Her mouth was large, with pouty red lips that seemed to beckon to him. Her baby blue eyes sparkled in the reflection of the sun coming in the small window across the seat next to him.
"Name?" the boy asked flatly, more a command, than a request.
"Excuse me?" she answered, still smiling, but slightly confused. She stood up straight and placed her free hand behind her back.
The boy smiled and took another sip from his glass of scotch. "What is your name?" he questioned again, adding annunciation to each word.
The woman bit her bottom lip and pointed to the small tag on her shirt. It read, "Samantha" in large, bold, black letters.
The boy stared at it, then at the woman, then back at the tag. "I asked what your name was," he said, turning his head back to stare straight forward.
The woman looked around strangely for a moment, then squinted at the man. "Do I know you?" she asked, leaning forward again. The boy stared down her shirt. They were definitely nice breasts. Very plump. Very healthy.
"No."
"Then how would you know that my name isn't Samantha?"
The boy shrugged his shoulders slightly, the right side of his mouth twitching into a quick smirk. "I just know. What is your name?"
"Caroline," she stated strangely. She could feel a tightening in the muscles of her back. The man was making her strangely nervous, yet... he was so attractive to her. So mysterious and odd. He was like no one she'd ever met in her life.
"Well, Caroline," he said, smirking, and taking a quick look down her shirt. "Five minutes before the plane lands, meet me in the bathroom."
The woman was aghast. What nerve! Her mouth fell open in surprise, and she found herself fumbling for words. "You... I would never... Just what are you implying, sir?"
The boy smiled strangely, his white teeth showing between his thin lips. "It's not what you think, Caroline. I just need to talk to you. It's very important."
The woman leaned even closer, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. "I'll be there," she said mysteriously. She smiled quickly, then continued walking down the aisle. "Coffee?" she asked the woman behind him.
"Is it regular, or decaf?"
So easy. These women were so easy to lead to their death. The man smiled to himself. Just act mysterious and strange, and they fall for you. Simple as that. The boy shrugged to himself. "I suppose that's who I am, anyway. Mysterious and strange. It's no act," he thought silently. The man cast a glance over his shoulder. The woman was still walking down the aisle. He admired her rear, how the fleshy mounds shifted around underneath the thin fabric of the black skirt she wore.
It's not that he liked women. No. They were far too simple. They were so weak, so easily deceived. Certainly, he'd slept with hundreds of women, giving them a quick flash of pleasure in their lives before killing them. He always killed them afterwards. He'd yet to find a woman worthy of becoming a vampire, like himself. In fact, the only human he'd ever found worthy of vampirism was Duo Maxwell.
Duo Maxwell, the wild youth who had caught his eye a mere 782 years into his life. He had been so kind when they had met. It had been a foggy, dim night, the light of the moon obscured by heavy clouds threatening to release their rain. The boy had been living on the street, as so many humans had been those years. He'd had such long, beautiful hair, though. Longer than most men had ever dared grow theirs out. Those sparkling violet eyes had smiled up at him innocently, and he knew he'd never see anything as beautiful as the human before him.
He'd picked him up, cradling the frail body in his arms, and carried him a mere six miles to his home, a large castle on the outskirts of the small village. Of course, it was nothing of a home compared to the larger castles that were to be built in later years. It was more of a large brick and stone hovel, than a castle. Two stories tall, very high for those times, with a large fireplace in the center of the hall that had been the only source of warmth during the cold winters of England.
England. He remembered those long ago years of his life so well. The streets were always dirty and the humans who had meandered about aimlessly were always becoming sick and dying. Dead bodies were everywhere.
Duo Maxwell had been one of those dying youths on the street. He had eaten nothing in the past week, and had graciously accepted the food offered him while he lay in the large bed. His skin was so pale and thin, yet his skin was so fine and smooth, so perfectly sculpted.
"Why are you doing this for me?" he had asked so innocently. The vampire had never seen a boy of seventeen so entirely untarnished and uncorrupted by the world he lived in.
"Because I like you." Those words. He'd never spoken so truthfully to someone before.
A few days had gone by before he'd made his move. This time, though, it had been different. The plan had been to simply kill the boy and feed upon him. To add him to the steadily growing list of humans he'd used for nourishment. Why had he found himself suddenly unable? He'd entered the boy's chambers at night, with the moon high in the sky. The light fell into the room and flowed over the contours of his sleeping body, and the vampire was again struck by the boy's beauty.
It had been a light kiss. Nothing more than a whisper of lips upon the pale forehead, but that had been enough to stir the boy from his sleep.
"Why did you do that?" he questioned, his fingers grazing the place where the vampire's lips had so recently settled.
"Because I like you." Truthful, once again. Another kiss, this time upon the soft lips that became so pliable and unrelenting against his own. It had steadily become more insistent, deeper, and he had plunged his tongue into the boy's mouth, something he would dare not do to any other human before that night. The braided boy had slid his arms around his waist and held him closely to his own body, before flipping him over onto his back and pinning him down with all of the one hundred and five pounds of his body.
He'd run his hands over the entire length of the vampire's body, unhindered by and unworried about the low temperature of his skin. The boy had quickly divested the vampire's body of all of his clothes and entered him from behind, something so completely unexpected. He had never felt such strange sensations, and he oddly found himself enjoying them, allowing the boy's warm hands to scratch along every inch of himself and grope every crevice of his body. The boy had cried out his name a few moments later, then fell upon him, his chest heaving with the humanly exertion. He rolled over onto the bed next to him and gazed into his eyes that had been a dark blue back then.
"Why did you do that?" the vampire had asked, staring down at the nude boy lying on the bed next to him, the thin body beading with sweat from the humid night pouring in from the open window. The air had tasted of rich spice that night. He remembered the smell so well. The boy's smell mingling with the night air. So erotic.
"Because I like you, too," he answered, smiling.
"Attention, passengers, we will be landing shortly. Please be sure to remain seated, and keep your seat belts securely fastened once the 'fasten seat belts' light comes on. Thank you."
The man shook his head, tossing the memories quickly out of his mind. He wiped along the rims of his moist eyes, removing any tears that may have gathered and threatened to fall. No time for tears over that boy now. He had to be strong. He had to remember that he had a job to do here in America. He had to stop this vampire from carelessly creating others. And what was he to do about that female vampire who was killing all of the others? No. No need to think about her now. The first thing to do was to find Duo. To find his child.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You live here, Duo?" the boy questioned, shakily gripping the fabric of Duo's black jacket. Everyone around him was staring at him. Staring at the small picture of innocence. Duo sent them all away with a small wave of his hand, and they quickly scurried past, going on with their previous activities. The heavy bass of the music made his stomach rumble strangely, and he nervously clutched the boy's jacket tighter in his small hand.
"Not here, exactly," Duo answered playfully over his shoulder, weaving through the crowd with amazing ease. "I live in that room, over there." He pointed to the heavy, rusted metal door far along the wall to the right. The boy nodded and continued to follow as closely as possible.
"Hey, God of Death!" a boy's voice from behind the two called.
The boy ceased his quick pace suddenly, causing Quatre to stumble against his body. Duo turned around fiercely, a serious glare scrawled over his face. "I've told you not to call me that, Mike!" he screamed over the crowd. Everyone around them stopped and stared.
The boy who had called his name tentatively stepped forward, his hands behind his back. He looked like a shamed canine. "I'm sorry, Duo, but I had to tell you before you went in your room..."
"I know, that girl was back, and she killed Tommy and the other two," Duo said knowingly, the grin suddenly replaced upon his features. He quickly waved his hand at his followers, and they resumed their activities.
"The other two!?" Mike questioned, leaning forward. "What other two!?"
The boy huffed and slumped his shoulders in disappointment. "Don't tell me you haven't found them yet!"
The boy stuttered, shaking his head in confusion. "I... I don't know what... who...?"
"Wayne and Gary. They're in my room, you know! You guys just left their bodies there!?"
Quatre stared at the two boys engaged in the conversation. Mike was so tan, with dark brown hair. And a lot larger than Duo. He looked much stronger. It was strange to see this large man act like a dog with his tail between his legs to a boy half his size. Was it fear, or respect, Quatre wondered. Probably fear. He silently questioned why Mike had called him the God of Death, but chose to ignore it. That was something he may never want to find out.
"I didn't know that," Mike stated plainly, suddenly paling.
"I'll be back in an hour. Have the mess cleaned up by then, okay?" Duo said, waving Quatre over while he walked away.
"I will, Duo," the boy yelled at his retreating back.
Quatre ran to catch up to the boy, again clinging to the back of his jacket as he resumed his weaving through the crowd. "Where are we going now?" Quatre asked over the boy's shoulder. "I thought you were going to show me where you lived?"
"Later, Quat," Duo said, waving a hand back at the boy.
"I thought maybe we could go get a bite to eat."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
No, this was all wrong. This woman was far from perfect. Her blood was tasteless and bland. Not rich and sweet and slightly sour as he had expected. She was hardly worth his time. Well, there was nothing to do about it now. He couldn't very well let her go, though he was sure she would not mind. She was still kicking about a bit, still trying to push against his strong chest. She should have figured out by now that it was pointless.
He finished drinking her blood quickly, and left her dead body slung sideways over the small toilet in the airplane bathroom stall. He stepped outside, closed the door, and stared at the lock. It quickly made a clicking sound and the small sign showed the word, "occupied." Good. Now it would be a while before anyone discovered her body there.
"All passengers, please return to your seats and fasten your safety belts," the feminine voice announced throughout the plane. The man did just that, leaning back into the plush fabric of his seat. It wouldn't be long now. So soon, he would see the boy again. How long had it been? The boy quickly did the math in his head. Four hundred and seventy-one years. Compared to his long life of roughly two-thousand years, the time gap seemed minuscule, but he knew it was, in fact, lifetimes.
Would Duo be the same as he had been the last few years of their time together? He had become so cold and angry. At times, it seemed as if he had been envious, but the boy knew better. Duo was not the kind of person to become jealous of someone. It was so unlike him...
The boy pushed these unpleasant thoughts out of his head and closed his eyes, willing his mind to quiet itself. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, it was nearly impossible to get the beautiful face of the boy out of his mind. It was as if he was always invading his thoughts now.
A bell sounded through the cabin, and the boy opened his eyes. The 'fasten seat belts' light had come on, and now there was a woman standing at the front of the aisle, going through the landing procedures and explaining how to exit the aircraft. The boy ignored it, closing his eyes again. He'd flown in these humanly inventions so many times before, he new the drill.
Why had Duo been creating all of these other vampires? Surely he must know that the young female vampire had been killing them all. Why would he be creating their new lives, just to have them destroyed so soon after their rebirth? It didn't make sense. Perhaps he knew the girl was killing them, and that was the reason he was making them. No... that made no sense. There would be no point in it.
Perhaps he was lonely. That seemed likely. Duo had always been a very self-centered person, always needing to be in the spotlight. He was always so proud, wanting to be the center of attention. He never liked to be outdone in anything, as well. But, if he does not like to be outdone, then why is he allowing this girl to go on killing all of his children?
The boy sighed inwardly and began to rub the bridge of his nose, nudging his sunglasses up. Nothing seemed to make sense right now. He used to know everything that Duo had been thinking. He could read every thought in his mind, and answer his questions before they were even asked. But Duo had so soon learned to close off his mind, and he'd never reopened it. Now, the boy realized that he was much more complex, more intelligent, more powerful, and more dangerous than he could have ever imagined. The power had gone to his head. The power had ruined him.
It was as if, when he was turned into a vampire, his soul had died, while his body was left to live forever. Nothing made sense anymore...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a small place, simply a pool hall where truckers and a few of the locals would sometimes go to hangout. The entire room was clouded by smoke as thick as storm clouds, and the smell mingled with the watered-down beer that the fat bartender was passing out to people at the bar. There weren't many people there, a few drunks with their heads down upon the bar, a man and woman sitting in a dimly lit corner, exchanging seductive glances and whispering secretive things, two men playing pool. They both wore flannel shirts and tight black pants, along with black cowboy hats tilted downward and shielding their faces from the bright light above the table.
Quatre had never seen a place like this in his life. It sent an eerie chill down his spine, and he suddenly felt as if everyone in the room was staring at him. He knew he must look strange. Duo had said the illusion would not be as effective, considering he had just become a vampire the night before, and his powers had not yet developed. He'd offered his assistance, but the boy had refused, demanding to accomplish the task on his own. Duo had actually seemed surprised that he'd been able to do it.
But now, here he was, a mid-twenties man wearing a black long sleeve shirt and black pants, and walking around a bar as if he belonged there. He looked around at the various people. No one was staring at him, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that there were eyes upon him.
"What can I get for you, young man?" the bartender asked, leaning his hands upon the bar in front of the boy.
Quatre stared at him a moment. Apparently, the illusion was working perfectly. "I'd..." he began, but suddenly stopped himself. His voice. It was far too high-pitched to belong to someone as old as he. He placed his fingers over his lips a moment in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the man.
The man stared back with a questioning look, still waiting for a response.
"Duo, what am I going to do about my voice!?" Quatre questioned in his mind to the boy beside him, who sat backwards on his stool, resting his arms against the bar and taking in the surroundings.
"Two beers," Duo said over his shoulder to the bartender, who gave the two a strange look, then waddled off to get the drinks. "Don't worry about your voice, Quat," Duo said in a reassuring whisper after the husky man had left. "Just control it the way you control your appearance. It's easy."
Quatre concentrated a moment, closing one eye in frustration. "How's this," he asked finally, his voice slightly deeper, but still with a hint of his true voice showing through.
"Try again."
"How about now," Quatre asked again after a few more moments. His voice had become much deeper now, and a bit more gruff. He sounded like a heavy smoker. It suited his new body.
"Fine," Duo answered, giving him a quick wink before sliding around on the stool and facing the front of the bar. The fat man waddled back over, still giving the two men a strange look, and he set a beer down in front of each of them.
Duo picked his up and smirked crookedly at the man with one side of his mouth.
Quatre left his on the bar and smiled, saying "Thank you."
The man raised one eyebrow and walked off to tend to other customers.
"Let's get right down to it, Quat," Duo said before taking a long drink from his glass. The beer was cheap, bitter, and watered down, but he didn't seem to mind much. Quatre stared at him questioningly. "We're here to hunt," said the boy, staring seriously at the innocent baby blue eyes. "Let us not waste our time. Choose who will be your first victim." He waved his hand out at the small crowd, indicating that any human in here had the possibility of becoming his very first meal.
Quatre began scanning the crowd, not really knowing what he was looking for in a meal. He had no idea how to judge a person's blood. He didn't even know how to find out if a melon was ripe.
"Just use your sense of smell," Duo said, offering him a small helping hand. "If you really concentrate on one person, you can smell the blood running through their veins, and then you can taste the smell. That's how you know if they're good or not."
Quatre nodded his head knowingly, not really knowing if he could do this or not, but tried, nonetheless. The woman sitting in the corner. She was beautiful. Brown hair and brown eyes, she was tan and thin. He concentrated on the woman. He could hear her thoughts. He could hear her voice as she whispered to the man next to her. She smiled and the corners of her mouth had small dimples and her eyes creased up around the edges. Quatre focused his mind, listening to what his intuition told him. The woman's blood. He could smell it now. He could taste it. It was a bitter taste. Almost nauseating.
"That woman... her blood is awful..." Quatre whispered lightly to the boy next to him.
"Oh, her?" asked Duo as he lifted a lone eyebrow at the only female in the room. "She's on drugs. People like that... their blood tends to be a bit bitter, and not very satisfying. Try again."
Quatre nodded silently, and one of the men playing pool caught his eye. He was tall as well, with large, muscled shoulders and a smooth face. The boy squinted at the man a moment, smelling the scent of his blood. It tasted smooth and rich. It tasted right. "That one," Quatre said, pointing at the man.
"Good choice, Quat," Duo breathed, surprised at the boy's quick recognition of a good meal. His power certainly was developing rapidly.
"How do we get him alone?" Quatre asked before picking up his nearly forgotten beer from the bar and taking a long drink from it.
Duo stood up, cracking the knuckles in his left hand. He turned his head slightly, so he was looking Quatre directly in the eye over his shoulder. "Leave that one to me," he admonished simply as he began to stalk towards the man.
Quatre watched in fascination as the vampire walked right up to the man. They were the same height now, given Duo's illusion. They sat talking a moment, and Quatre could barely catch the fewest hints of their conversation.
"Playing pool, huh?" Duo asked sarcastically.
"What's it to you?" the man replied. He was already beginning to look angry with the fool who would dare disturb his game.
"I was just wondering, because this is my pool table," Duo growled, taking a step forward.
The man whispered something vicious and shoved the boy, sending him back a mere three centimeters. Obviously dissatisfied with the reaction, he pushed him again, this time harder, and Duo immediately balled up his fist and threw it into the man's face.
The man stumbled back, holding his injured jaw, a look of astonishment spread across his smooth features. Quatre could read his thoughts going wild. "What in the hell is this guy's problem? Little asshole... he's pretty strong."
Quatre laughed silently to himself. "You have no idea..."
The man reared back for a punch, fully intending upon beating the shit out of the little punk before him, but Duo caught his hand with ease and squeezed the balled fist, making the man cringe with pain, but not cry out, for he had his pride.
The bartender immediately stepped in between the two, his hand going to the boy's shoulder and attempting to push the two apart. "Take it outside, you two," he said plainly, afraid the brawl may destroy his business. Duo nodded and began to walk out the back door, the man stalking behind him, taking off his jacket.
Quatre leapt off the stool and ran to catch up to them. He ran around the corner next to the bathrooms and slung open the heavy metal door to see Duo already bringing the man to tears at his feet. He had broken his arm and was now holding him in a tight headlock from behind. Quatre could smell blood clearly, but it wasn't the man's blood. So, where...?
The boy scanned the scene quickly, and noticed a small knife lying on the ground, covered in blood. He stared at it. The blood was red and seemed to be saturating the sand on the gravel alleyway. The blood quickly went from a thin, healthy red to a deathly thick black. Quatre looked up to see Duo glaring at him. The wound had been his. He could see the cut in his jacket on his arm. The blood there had turned black, as well, and he could see the wound slowly healing
"Are you going to do this, or not?" he asked calmly.
Quatre nodded his head, but continued to stare.
"Well?" Duo asked sharply, getting impatient with the boy's hesitation. The man was still struggling in his arms, and it was getting quite annoying by this point.
Quatre walked to the man, hovering above him like an innocent angel of death. He looked sadly down at the man, suddenly feeling sorry for him when he sensed the fear in his mind. He could feel the man's pain. His arm was hurting so badly. The bone was twisted and jutting up under his skin, but he still fought. The boy stared a moment more before lowering himself onto his knees on the sandy ground. He inched forward, until his face was inches from the man's. He could smell his breath, alcohol mixed with fear and adrenaline. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the man, who glared back at him and spit at him.
"Fuck you," the man replied, digging his nails into the flesh of the arm wrapped tightly around his neck.
Duo stared at the fingernails in his arm that were now beginning to draw blood, and released his neck, still holding onto his shoulders tightly. "Quatre, it's now or never," he cooed at the boy pleasantly, obviously enjoying the mixed emotions pouring from the man. Duo then released his grip, and the man jumped toward Quatre, who fell onto his back to dodge the swinging fist. The man jumped on top of him and hit him directly in the face, causing his nose to suddenly gush blood that splattered the ground with the force.
"Fuck!" the boy screamed, grabbing his face. It didn't hurt as badly as he had expected. It had merely surprised him. The man was unhindered by the boy's pain and began strangling him.
Quatre stared at him calmly a moment, assessing the situation. He mentally shrugged his shoulders and let instinct take control, grabbing the man's neck in return. He began to sit up, despite all of the pressure and weight being forced upon his body.
They were now both on their knees strangling each other, but the boy still had the upper hand, and he squeezed his hands tighter into the flesh of the man's neck. He made a strange growl deep in his throat, and Quatre pushed him onto his back and crawled onto his middle, grasping the hands holding so tightly onto his neck. He pried the fingers away one by one, then removed the hands and pinned them to the ground by the wrists, hovering inches above the man's face.
Quatre stared down at him a moment, suddenly enjoying the sense of power these actions gave him. The man stared back up at him, obviously surprised. His eyes were tearing up from the pain and embarrassment, but he still growled loudly at the boy.
Quatre smiled proudly at the fear he was inflicting. No one had ever been afraid of him before. "Fuck you!" the man screamed again, still struggling with all of his might against the iron grip that held him.
Quatre smiled even wider and leaned down closer to the man's face. "I don't think you want me to," he whispered playfully.
"You're a faggot!" he roared back, his voice breaking into a squeak out of surprise. "Get the fuck off of me, you fucking faggot!"
The boy glared down at the man's brown eyes, immediately insulted. His mouth turned into a twisted smile, and he released his grip on one of the man's hands, only to have his own hand rip the man's throat, causing blood to spray his face and clothes with great force.
The man choked on his own blood, making a sound similar to sobbing, and Quatre stopped. He stared at the man, at the pain pouring from his eyes and the blood pouring from his throat, and regretted his action. He felt his mind whirl, and he lost his focus on reality. His mouth fell open in horror at his own actions, and he nearly lost consciousness with sorrow.
"You're just a..." the man wheezed, staring at the blonde hovering above him. "...boy..."
The man lost consciousness, his head falling lifelessly to the side. Quatre found himself unable to move. How had he lost his concentration enough to allow this man to see his true form? How could he have been so careless? And on his first hunt, no less.
"Quatre!" Duo screamed, jerking him from his reverie of wild, screaming thoughts. "You have to do it before he dies..." he whispered more calmly.
Quatre nodded and reluctantly lowered himself onto the wound at the man's throat, allowing his heart to pump the blood into his mouth. The taste was so strange, so much different than Duo's blood had been. It tasted fresher, more healthy. More alive, even. He lost himself in the moment, closing his eyes, and reveling in the sweet scent and the sweet taste and the ultimate euphoria of it all. It felt like an eternity that he lay on top of the man, feeling the blood dripping into his mouth and flowing down the length of his throat. Then he felt the man's heart slow. It began to flutter, still trying to keep a tight hold onto life, yet it was so weak, so tired. Then his heart beat once more, and never again.
Quatre released his mouth from around the wound and sat up, staring at Duo with wide eyes. "He's dead," Quatre said, astonished. It was as if he could not find the realization of what he had just done. "I just killed a man."
Duo smiled down at his child proudly, but he could already read his thoughts. He could feel the guilt beginning to rise inside him. The overwhelming self-repugnance. "Don't feel bad about it, Quat," he said soothingly, lowering himself to kneel in front of the boy and placing a tender hand against his soft cheek. "Everyone kills to survive. Whether it be an animal, or another human, we all do it."
Quatre sighed inwardly, but accepted the boy's explanation. He was right. He had eaten poultry and beef and other meat products in his life. Those were all once living animals that had been slaughtered to feed humans. Now, humans had to be slaughtered to feed vampires. It was no different. No different at all.
Then why did he feel so guilty about it?