Title: More or Less Sane
Author: FireDemon
Email: Ken_Dai_Love@hotmail.com
Rating: R (Ooh, lookie, it jumped. Bad FireDemon)
Category: Romance
Warnings: Shounen-ai/Shoujo-ai, VERY disturbing behaviour. Blood 'n stuff. LONG!!! (Well longer than Ch 2.)
Summary: AU. Evil Vampires, Bloodsucking and a conversation with a Psychiatrist. Guess who's telling the story this time... Hehe.
Disclaimer: I do not own Zoids, if I did Fiona would be passionately in love with Zeke, Raven would be too busy worrying about his sexuality to fight for Prozen, and the Guardian Force would be enthusiastically screwing each other while Moonbay followed them around with a video camera.
Chapter 3:
"Death is a part of life Dr. Ichijouji, now that I've accepted that I can get on with my life." Fiona explains as she calmly leaves the room.
I step out of the shadows, "You must be Fiona's psychiatrist. A pleasure I'm sure."
His violet eyes lock on me and he lets out a soft gasp of shocked recognition. Not of me, but of what I am. A creature of the night: A vampire.
"What are you doing here?" He asks his eyes wide.
"Thomas told us that his 'talking-man' helped him to sort out his feelings about Raven, and about being a vampire. You seemed to have helped Fiona. Now you will assist me, either in your capacity to listen to problems and resolve them, or your capacity as my dinner."
"I..." He takes a deep breath, obviously trying to gather his courage, "Why don't you sit down and tell me about yourself?"
I circle him like a bird circling its prey and he wilts slightly, "I'd rather stand. If you don't mind."
"I *do* mind!" He tells me sharply as I continue to circle, "What were you, a vulture in a past life?"
I laugh, "You're rather amusing, for a human. I'll humour you talking man, but don't get too comfortable."
His face pales, "Of course. Why don't you sit down, make yourself comfortable and tell me about yourself."
Moving faster then his puny eyes can follow, I leap up and land in the seat before he even has time to turn around. His face pales even further and I smirk contentedly. I must say I enjoy using my powers for intimidation.
"Now, where to begin?" I ask myself flippantly.
"Perhaps the beginning would be a good place?" Fiona's talking-man suggests softly.
I raise an eyebrow, "The Beginning. There is no such thing as the beginning, however I shall give you a beginning, if you like."
He nods; I can feel my words have made him curious. A strange gift, or curse, for a vampire to have. Empathy: The ability to sense and experience the feelings of others. Yet, it is an ability I have nevertheless.
"I have been alive for more years then I care to remember, thanks to my immortality. I was 23 when my sire, a vampire who went by the name, Prozen, transformed me into the creature I am today. For my bond-brother Raven and I, Prozen was like a father. I'd never had a father before, I come from a long line of what I suppose would today be called witches or psychics, but it makes little difference anyway. My mother gave me to him-"
"Gave you to him? How does one 'give' a person?" He asks. I feel his horror laced shock, and I smile, perhaps a little too coldly.
"Much in the same way as one gives anything. For a witch and a vampire the exchange of individuals is common practise."
"I see," He whispers, already disturbed by my tale.
"I was 13 at the time, barely more then a child, and my future bond-brother was 17, and had been for well over half a century. Prozen doted on us, as if we were his children. He gave us everything our selfish hearts desired; he took us hunting when he went, even though he'd not yet changed me. He was a good father, and we loved him, with all our crooked little hearts." I look up and smirk at the therapist.
"You really loved him?" His voice is soft, as if he's yearning to understand.
"Yes. I loved him. He gave me the gift and the curse of being the creature I am today. And for that I will love him and hate him more than any other on this plane of existence until the day somebody shoves a piece of wood through my black little heart, and burns my body to ash."
Waves of sadness and sympathy wash over me, and my eyes fix on the psychiatrist in surprise, I can see tears in his violet eyes. He feels sorry for me.
"It is a gift like no other, little mortal. It is a gift of love, twisted love. Few mortals ever understand that sort of love."
"It is the kind of love that made my father hit my mother to arouse himself," He tells me, voice trembling as he discloses his greatest secret to a vampire he does not even like.
I smile, "Yes, little one. That is the kind of love I mean. You are a clever little morsel, talking-man."
He smiles back weakly, "Thanks, I think."
"I was 23 when he changed me, 23 years old to the day. I had gained full mastery of my powers, and he decided he was ready to introduce me to his world. I should tell you that Prozen never did anything by halves, he was an exhibitionist to the extreme."
The man on the chair smiles at me, it never ceases to amaze me how effortlessly we vampires can control humans, play with their emotions, their minds, if you like.
"It's impossible to describe what that first night was like, what that first taste of blood was akin to, how it felt to have Prozen drink my blood, no human experience is comparable. I heard Fiona try to describe it to you..."
"That was confidential!" He gasps; trying to struggle out of the haze my voice has lulled him into.
"I'm sure she didn't mind. As I was saying," I smirk at him, enjoying his sulky displeasure, "I overheard Fiona describing it to you, she was so close to describing it perfectly, yet so completely far away. It *is* intimate, and I suppose it is similar to sex, yet so much deeper, so much more intense, and so much more pleasurable. There is a sexual aspect to it, yet it's more then that. It's instinct and primal lust for survival. It's submission if you're the victim, dominance if you're the hunter. It's incredible."
"Would you... Will you... drink my blood?" He stutters, half afraid, half longing. He appears to have changed his mind about being my dinner. I really do love being a vampire; humans are such fun to play with.
"Perhaps, if I'm hungry. I rather like you mortal. Do you have a name?" I ask teasingly.
"It's Ken." He replies, those huge violet pools fixed on me adoringly, I think I've completely mesmerised him.
"Well Ken, shall I continue?"
He nods, and I lean back and recommence my tale,
"After he'd changed me he threw a masque, a masked ball, I suppose you would call it. He invited every socialite, every whore he could hire, and every vampire whose company he enjoyed and he introduced me to his society, by giving me my pick of victims. Between us, we spilt the blood of every mortal there. My bond-brother and I fed like we had never fed before. The first drink was so tantalising, the second so unsatisfactory. As I said, our father liked to make a spectacle of himself and his family, and he thrived on overindulgence."
My mortal looks caught between the urge to throw up and the infinitely more desirable urge to hear more of my tale.
"Does my talk of carnage disturb you little morsel? Perhaps I should move on?" I suggest.
"I'd appreciate it," He replies, still slightly pale. I smirk, showing my fangs as I consider what to speak of next.
"Things changed after that night, the balance of power in our pack was different after I started actively hunting. And of course, Hiltz came home."
"Hiltz?" He asks curiously, his violet eyes fixed on me.
"My father's lover: His bond-mate. He returned to us with gifts for Prozen, Raven and I, extravagant gifts for the lover he hadn't seen in years, the child he'd helped Prozen raise, and the girl he'd never met... My family was finally complete."
"Sounds nice..." He tells me wistfully.
I shrug, "At first it was nice, but Hiltz thought Prozen was spoiling us. And they treated us like children, their children, but children nevertheless. 200 years is a long time to be treated like a kid, and naturally Raven and I got very, very sick of it. We drew away from our sires, and we began to plot against them. Hiltz because we hated him, and Prozen because he had picked Hiltz above us."
"He'd picked Hiltz above you... what do you mean?" He asks, confused.
"He loved Hiltz more, he chose Hiltz to warm his bed, and share his blood," I snarl coldly, "He chose Hiltz to be his lover."
"I...But...You... I thought you said you saw Prozen as a Father, you speak of him as your father." He sounds bewildered, more so then before.
"He was our father, but we loved him, and he chose Hiltz. Hiltz who was not beautiful, who treated us as if we were less then he. We were jealous. We could have warmed his bed and shared his blood, but he chose Hiltz."
He looks slightly sick, he doesn't seem to realise that we vampires are a perverted race, embittered and completely immoral. All vampire relationships are twisted, there is no such thing as a simple parent-child relationship, the blood-sharing is to a certain degree sexual, no matter how young the child.
"I hated Hiltz, more then I hated my father, more then I hated my mother and more then I hated myself. So, my bond-brother and I plotted, and together we contrived a ruse. A clever ruse: We drugged the blood of a pretty virgin boy, the type of victim Hiltz can't resist, and when Hiltz was docile from the poison he'd inadvertently consumed I smiled prettily at him, and ripped out his still beating heart."
My human's face turns green, his eyes huge in that pale face, those green tinged lips clenched closed, and I smile, coldly amused.
"Then, before his eyes had time to glaze, I ate it, making sure to lick my fingers clean-"
The psychiatrist gags and promptly throws up everything he's eaten today, while I watch impassively.
"S-sorry," He croaks, "But that's very messed up."
"I'm a vampire little morsel, I'm supposed to be twisted, you'd do well to remember that."
"R-right," He replies hoarsely
"Now, where was I? Ah yes, after Raven and I had killed Prozen and Hiltz we ran, we sold our fathers properties, and used the money to flee from Paris where our sires had brought us up."
"You're French...?" He asks, and I giggle. It's been a long time since anyone asked me that.
"Oui, je suis français," I confirm, "Although, I have not considered myself such in many, many years. Very few mortals ever pick up on my accent, and Raven has never needed to bring it up."
"Oh," He replies softly, "I see. I couldn't pick your accent, I just picked that you had one."
"Yes, well," I smile, "As I said, it has been many, many years. After Paris, we went to Belgique;" I break off mildly annoyed, "I mean Belgium, and then to New Orléans, in America. We travelled to Japan about 17 years ago, after my bond-brother learnt the language and became obsessed with the Japanese culture."
"So you've only been in Japan for 17 years? You speak the language remarkably well," He compliments me. I shrug,
"I have a knack with languages. I have yet to encounter one I cannot learn. I suppose everybody has their little quirks, learning languages is mine. I believe that is the only reason I am grateful to Prozen for changing me. Had I been mortal, I would not have had the chance to learn so many languages."
He makes a soft murmur of agreement, so I continue with my narrative. The more I speak, the more I long to speak. To tell the whole sordid tale. Well, perhaps not all of it, but the parts that bother me. The parts I could never tell Raven, and the parts I would never impose upon my sweet Fiona.
"We fed from the unwanted children of the streets at first, Raven and I would seduce them to our lair, and feed them whatever they most desired, and then we would drink from them, and burn their broken, empty bodies to ash."
He looks sick again, but he's still enthralled. I feel the same half-guilt I once felt when I coerced my victims into enjoying my ruthless ministrations. I will not lie, I was never reluctant to kill. From my first drink of blood I have been addicted, to the hunt, to the rush, and to the intimacy of the act. I never claimed to be a nice person.
"You look ill again morsel. I will simply summarise those 17 years by saying we never wanted for anything, particularly not food. We drank what we needed to survive, and we never hesitated," He's staring into my eyes, almost like a lover would, not because he loves me of course, but because I am slowly making him mine. That is what we vampires do, whether we wish to or not.
"You never hesitated... you never regretted all the deaths you caused...?" He leaves the question hanging.
"Why should I have? They were mortal, and therefore they would one-day die. I am immortal, I shall live for all eternity."
"Doesn't that ever bother you? That you'll never die?"
I pause, a question I have many times considered has been posed, and I give the answer I could never give to any other who might ask,
"There have been times, in my life, when the idea of eternity, seemed, temporarily, unbearable. I will not lie, there have been times when I have longed for death, and even times when I have actively sought it. You are right to think that immortality is not all péches et créme."
"Peaches and cream," He corrects absently, and I nod impassively.
"After Fiona, however, I realised there were perks I had not considered. The bond I share with her is deepened by our mutual nature. It sickens you, this nature of mine, does it not?" I ask
He flushes, "Not really. I just..."
I smirk, "It repulses you, as once it might have repulsed me, had I placed a higher value on human life."
He nods, "It never disgusted you, did it?"
I consider his query, how inhuman I must seem to him that he should ask such a question. "Prozen... was very beautiful. Beautiful as I am beautiful."
"Oh," He replies, his violet eyes agreeing with my statement. That my statement might be considered egotistical occurs to me, and I look towards the shadowed mirror hidden in the crook of his office. My reflection stares back at me, my blue hair brushes my shoulders, I'd forgotten how short it was. When I was younger, mortal, I'd had long hair, hip length almost, before I'd cut it. My green eyes seem uncannily bright, unnatural, like my chiselled features. My skin is too pale, luminescent yet strangely attractive. I'm beautiful, because of what I am. Not because I was a beautiful mortal, but because I am undead, and to those who aren't the beauty I have seems unattainable. I don't explain this to my talking-man. I don't think I can. I pick up where I left off,
"I loved him because he was beautiful, and because I loved him, he did not... disgust me. He was beautiful, and I have always... appreciated beautiful things," I smile coldly at him, "But there is beauty in all things, even my murdered victims are in some way beautiful. Perhaps if I changed you, you would see past your revulsion of the act and you would see the addictive beauty of death. Or perhaps you would simply become that which we night creatures both loathe and love, a reluctant killer. A human vampire."
I tilt my head, "The idea tempts me. I should like to see which you would become. Which do you think, my tender morsel," I breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of warm human blood, and clean skin, "Would you refuse to kill, or would the blood lust become an addiction?"
He stares at me unspeaking, lost in my voice and my eyes, and my memories, and I smile, remembering.
"I would make it good for you, if I drank your blood, mon petit." I promise.
"I..." His soft voice is hesitant, "Just keep talking."
"Such conviction, mon chere," I laugh, "but I'll continue, if that's what you wish. A long time ago I accepted that I am what I am, and I embraced the darkness that was a part of who I was, so, when I came here, and killed so many, I did not lament their deaths. And yet, I could not bring myself to kill Fiona. My sweet beautiful Fiona, whom I could not kill, but dared not leave untouched."
"So you did neither," He sums up.
"Yes," I reply, noting with annoyance that my accent is more pronounced, thanks to my poking around in my memories, remembering things that should have been long dead. "Instead I took her blood into myself, and gave her my corruption. Her blood was sweet, intoxicating, and her mind was bright and pure. Tasting her was a high the like of which I have never before or since experienced. Even the physical act of intimacy between us cannot compare to that first taste of innocence, and the perverse pleasure of corrupting my innocent soulmate. I soiled her, corrupted her, in every sense of the word. I made her mine, and I made her dark, yet there is still an innocence about her, that is sickeningly sweet, yet undeniably... Fiona. It makes me ache all over to know that virtue is mine to take over and over again, every time I make love to her in a darkened alley, every time I see her kill, I remember that once she was pure, and I took that purity from her and made her what she is."
His eyes are wide, he doesn't seem to understand that vampire love is contradictory, and almost violent in its intensity.
"I love her, and I love being the source of her corruption, but when she is fully corrupted, she will no longer be the Fiona I love, and for that, I will hate myself for all eternity, for she is the only thing that gives my life meaning."
"If you love her now, surely you will love her, even if she changes. She'll still be Fiona," He comforts.
I shrug, "I suppose. But it is her innocence that I love, that I lust after, as well as her body, and her soul. I would love her still if she were like me, evil, but she would not be Fiona, and therefore I would not love her as Fiona."
"Oh. Then maybe you should just love her while you can, and let the future be the future. Who knows, maybe you'll be wrong about her changing."
"You are a clever little morsel talking man," I muse, rather impressed, "And I am curious, pet. You never did answer my question."
"Which question?" He replies, understandably confused. I'm releasing my hold on his mind; I want him to be lucid when I drink.
"If I changed you, my sweet," My cold lips brush his neck as I move, faster then he can see, to stand behind him, "Would you refuse to kill, or would the blood lust become an addiction?"
"I..." His head lolls, his breathing uneven, "I..."
"Well if you can't tell me, I'll have to find out on my own."
He lets out a slight whimper as my teeth sink into his neck, and I drink deeply. He's a useful creature, this 'psychiatrist'. Perhaps my bond brother will tell this little man all the dirty secrets hiding in his brain. I hope so, for I love him, and this talking man has done wonders for my heavy heart.
His blood's not too bad either.
I bite my wrist, and hold it out for the young doctor to drink from. His eyes are slightly glazed, but he drinks.
And as he drinks I remember, this is what my sire did to me, and one day, this child that I am creating, will give this curse to a child of his very own. And my corruption will spread.
I suppose I had no need to tell this child of mine about the club, or my reckless decisions to change not only my beautiful soulmate, but also a psychiatrist who knows all my secrets. I draw my wrist away, pushing the man out of my embrace, tenderness and hatred mix. He is no longer innocent, but his innocence is mine.
He looks at me through his damp, slightly blood smeared bangs, my blood staining his lips. I smile coldly,
"Come Ken. We're going home."
Authors Notes: I got told chapter 2 was light and fluffy compared to chapter 1. This is my return to darkness. Lookie, blood, gruesomeness, and semi-insane Reese. But no Reese/Raven-ness. I finally saw an episode with them two together, Raven taking care of injured Resse, but if I can blatantly ignore the fact that Matt marries Sora in Digimon (He loves Tai I tell you, Tai - not Sora), then I can delude myself about zoids too. It also gave me the whole Reese-hating-Hiltz thing *grins*.
*Huggles Reese* Innit she cute? By the way, Reese does have a slight French accent in this, and her pronunciation of Paris is Pahr-ee, because I wince whenever anyone says Par-iss. I think Reese would be hot with a French accent (Think Lestat in Queen of the Damned *drools*). Besides if people can like Karl and Thomas then I can like Reese (And Rei from EVA, and that hot silver-haired star-scout. Well he's only a chick when he transforms, but he's majorly spunky) Reese is a hottie, but she should NOT be with Raven. Don't ask me how that works. ^_^'
Next chapter will be Ravens POV, if you guys want me to write it, and will probably be darker still. And it will have a return to yaoi!
Fiona's chapter was lighter because to begin with, she's not an angsty person. Also, I'm trying to vary this a little bit. Who wants to read the same thing over and over again?
I hope I haven't bored anyone with the other two perspective's, they are an important part of the story (I'm not just getting off on the lesbianism), I'm building this up so that I can write Raven's chapter, he's probably going to be my favourite. Unfortunately, given that I just started year 12, and am taking 5 VERY hard subjects and I'm gonna get a job, my writing is gonna suffer, so the next chapter will probably be on hold till next holidays, unless I get a day off when I've finished my homework and feel like writing. Sorry you guys.
Also I wanna thank Maelgwyn who reviewed (and wrote that really cool fic where Reese/Ryss was HOT and Thomas had a super-cute boyfriend ^_^'), and Diamond Dew (whose work I *still* worship)
Author: FireDemon
Email: Ken_Dai_Love@hotmail.com
Rating: R (Ooh, lookie, it jumped. Bad FireDemon)
Category: Romance
Warnings: Shounen-ai/Shoujo-ai, VERY disturbing behaviour. Blood 'n stuff. LONG!!! (Well longer than Ch 2.)
Summary: AU. Evil Vampires, Bloodsucking and a conversation with a Psychiatrist. Guess who's telling the story this time... Hehe.
Disclaimer: I do not own Zoids, if I did Fiona would be passionately in love with Zeke, Raven would be too busy worrying about his sexuality to fight for Prozen, and the Guardian Force would be enthusiastically screwing each other while Moonbay followed them around with a video camera.
Chapter 3:
"Death is a part of life Dr. Ichijouji, now that I've accepted that I can get on with my life." Fiona explains as she calmly leaves the room.
I step out of the shadows, "You must be Fiona's psychiatrist. A pleasure I'm sure."
His violet eyes lock on me and he lets out a soft gasp of shocked recognition. Not of me, but of what I am. A creature of the night: A vampire.
"What are you doing here?" He asks his eyes wide.
"Thomas told us that his 'talking-man' helped him to sort out his feelings about Raven, and about being a vampire. You seemed to have helped Fiona. Now you will assist me, either in your capacity to listen to problems and resolve them, or your capacity as my dinner."
"I..." He takes a deep breath, obviously trying to gather his courage, "Why don't you sit down and tell me about yourself?"
I circle him like a bird circling its prey and he wilts slightly, "I'd rather stand. If you don't mind."
"I *do* mind!" He tells me sharply as I continue to circle, "What were you, a vulture in a past life?"
I laugh, "You're rather amusing, for a human. I'll humour you talking man, but don't get too comfortable."
His face pales, "Of course. Why don't you sit down, make yourself comfortable and tell me about yourself."
Moving faster then his puny eyes can follow, I leap up and land in the seat before he even has time to turn around. His face pales even further and I smirk contentedly. I must say I enjoy using my powers for intimidation.
"Now, where to begin?" I ask myself flippantly.
"Perhaps the beginning would be a good place?" Fiona's talking-man suggests softly.
I raise an eyebrow, "The Beginning. There is no such thing as the beginning, however I shall give you a beginning, if you like."
He nods; I can feel my words have made him curious. A strange gift, or curse, for a vampire to have. Empathy: The ability to sense and experience the feelings of others. Yet, it is an ability I have nevertheless.
"I have been alive for more years then I care to remember, thanks to my immortality. I was 23 when my sire, a vampire who went by the name, Prozen, transformed me into the creature I am today. For my bond-brother Raven and I, Prozen was like a father. I'd never had a father before, I come from a long line of what I suppose would today be called witches or psychics, but it makes little difference anyway. My mother gave me to him-"
"Gave you to him? How does one 'give' a person?" He asks. I feel his horror laced shock, and I smile, perhaps a little too coldly.
"Much in the same way as one gives anything. For a witch and a vampire the exchange of individuals is common practise."
"I see," He whispers, already disturbed by my tale.
"I was 13 at the time, barely more then a child, and my future bond-brother was 17, and had been for well over half a century. Prozen doted on us, as if we were his children. He gave us everything our selfish hearts desired; he took us hunting when he went, even though he'd not yet changed me. He was a good father, and we loved him, with all our crooked little hearts." I look up and smirk at the therapist.
"You really loved him?" His voice is soft, as if he's yearning to understand.
"Yes. I loved him. He gave me the gift and the curse of being the creature I am today. And for that I will love him and hate him more than any other on this plane of existence until the day somebody shoves a piece of wood through my black little heart, and burns my body to ash."
Waves of sadness and sympathy wash over me, and my eyes fix on the psychiatrist in surprise, I can see tears in his violet eyes. He feels sorry for me.
"It is a gift like no other, little mortal. It is a gift of love, twisted love. Few mortals ever understand that sort of love."
"It is the kind of love that made my father hit my mother to arouse himself," He tells me, voice trembling as he discloses his greatest secret to a vampire he does not even like.
I smile, "Yes, little one. That is the kind of love I mean. You are a clever little morsel, talking-man."
He smiles back weakly, "Thanks, I think."
"I was 23 when he changed me, 23 years old to the day. I had gained full mastery of my powers, and he decided he was ready to introduce me to his world. I should tell you that Prozen never did anything by halves, he was an exhibitionist to the extreme."
The man on the chair smiles at me, it never ceases to amaze me how effortlessly we vampires can control humans, play with their emotions, their minds, if you like.
"It's impossible to describe what that first night was like, what that first taste of blood was akin to, how it felt to have Prozen drink my blood, no human experience is comparable. I heard Fiona try to describe it to you..."
"That was confidential!" He gasps; trying to struggle out of the haze my voice has lulled him into.
"I'm sure she didn't mind. As I was saying," I smirk at him, enjoying his sulky displeasure, "I overheard Fiona describing it to you, she was so close to describing it perfectly, yet so completely far away. It *is* intimate, and I suppose it is similar to sex, yet so much deeper, so much more intense, and so much more pleasurable. There is a sexual aspect to it, yet it's more then that. It's instinct and primal lust for survival. It's submission if you're the victim, dominance if you're the hunter. It's incredible."
"Would you... Will you... drink my blood?" He stutters, half afraid, half longing. He appears to have changed his mind about being my dinner. I really do love being a vampire; humans are such fun to play with.
"Perhaps, if I'm hungry. I rather like you mortal. Do you have a name?" I ask teasingly.
"It's Ken." He replies, those huge violet pools fixed on me adoringly, I think I've completely mesmerised him.
"Well Ken, shall I continue?"
He nods, and I lean back and recommence my tale,
"After he'd changed me he threw a masque, a masked ball, I suppose you would call it. He invited every socialite, every whore he could hire, and every vampire whose company he enjoyed and he introduced me to his society, by giving me my pick of victims. Between us, we spilt the blood of every mortal there. My bond-brother and I fed like we had never fed before. The first drink was so tantalising, the second so unsatisfactory. As I said, our father liked to make a spectacle of himself and his family, and he thrived on overindulgence."
My mortal looks caught between the urge to throw up and the infinitely more desirable urge to hear more of my tale.
"Does my talk of carnage disturb you little morsel? Perhaps I should move on?" I suggest.
"I'd appreciate it," He replies, still slightly pale. I smirk, showing my fangs as I consider what to speak of next.
"Things changed after that night, the balance of power in our pack was different after I started actively hunting. And of course, Hiltz came home."
"Hiltz?" He asks curiously, his violet eyes fixed on me.
"My father's lover: His bond-mate. He returned to us with gifts for Prozen, Raven and I, extravagant gifts for the lover he hadn't seen in years, the child he'd helped Prozen raise, and the girl he'd never met... My family was finally complete."
"Sounds nice..." He tells me wistfully.
I shrug, "At first it was nice, but Hiltz thought Prozen was spoiling us. And they treated us like children, their children, but children nevertheless. 200 years is a long time to be treated like a kid, and naturally Raven and I got very, very sick of it. We drew away from our sires, and we began to plot against them. Hiltz because we hated him, and Prozen because he had picked Hiltz above us."
"He'd picked Hiltz above you... what do you mean?" He asks, confused.
"He loved Hiltz more, he chose Hiltz to warm his bed, and share his blood," I snarl coldly, "He chose Hiltz to be his lover."
"I...But...You... I thought you said you saw Prozen as a Father, you speak of him as your father." He sounds bewildered, more so then before.
"He was our father, but we loved him, and he chose Hiltz. Hiltz who was not beautiful, who treated us as if we were less then he. We were jealous. We could have warmed his bed and shared his blood, but he chose Hiltz."
He looks slightly sick, he doesn't seem to realise that we vampires are a perverted race, embittered and completely immoral. All vampire relationships are twisted, there is no such thing as a simple parent-child relationship, the blood-sharing is to a certain degree sexual, no matter how young the child.
"I hated Hiltz, more then I hated my father, more then I hated my mother and more then I hated myself. So, my bond-brother and I plotted, and together we contrived a ruse. A clever ruse: We drugged the blood of a pretty virgin boy, the type of victim Hiltz can't resist, and when Hiltz was docile from the poison he'd inadvertently consumed I smiled prettily at him, and ripped out his still beating heart."
My human's face turns green, his eyes huge in that pale face, those green tinged lips clenched closed, and I smile, coldly amused.
"Then, before his eyes had time to glaze, I ate it, making sure to lick my fingers clean-"
The psychiatrist gags and promptly throws up everything he's eaten today, while I watch impassively.
"S-sorry," He croaks, "But that's very messed up."
"I'm a vampire little morsel, I'm supposed to be twisted, you'd do well to remember that."
"R-right," He replies hoarsely
"Now, where was I? Ah yes, after Raven and I had killed Prozen and Hiltz we ran, we sold our fathers properties, and used the money to flee from Paris where our sires had brought us up."
"You're French...?" He asks, and I giggle. It's been a long time since anyone asked me that.
"Oui, je suis français," I confirm, "Although, I have not considered myself such in many, many years. Very few mortals ever pick up on my accent, and Raven has never needed to bring it up."
"Oh," He replies softly, "I see. I couldn't pick your accent, I just picked that you had one."
"Yes, well," I smile, "As I said, it has been many, many years. After Paris, we went to Belgique;" I break off mildly annoyed, "I mean Belgium, and then to New Orléans, in America. We travelled to Japan about 17 years ago, after my bond-brother learnt the language and became obsessed with the Japanese culture."
"So you've only been in Japan for 17 years? You speak the language remarkably well," He compliments me. I shrug,
"I have a knack with languages. I have yet to encounter one I cannot learn. I suppose everybody has their little quirks, learning languages is mine. I believe that is the only reason I am grateful to Prozen for changing me. Had I been mortal, I would not have had the chance to learn so many languages."
He makes a soft murmur of agreement, so I continue with my narrative. The more I speak, the more I long to speak. To tell the whole sordid tale. Well, perhaps not all of it, but the parts that bother me. The parts I could never tell Raven, and the parts I would never impose upon my sweet Fiona.
"We fed from the unwanted children of the streets at first, Raven and I would seduce them to our lair, and feed them whatever they most desired, and then we would drink from them, and burn their broken, empty bodies to ash."
He looks sick again, but he's still enthralled. I feel the same half-guilt I once felt when I coerced my victims into enjoying my ruthless ministrations. I will not lie, I was never reluctant to kill. From my first drink of blood I have been addicted, to the hunt, to the rush, and to the intimacy of the act. I never claimed to be a nice person.
"You look ill again morsel. I will simply summarise those 17 years by saying we never wanted for anything, particularly not food. We drank what we needed to survive, and we never hesitated," He's staring into my eyes, almost like a lover would, not because he loves me of course, but because I am slowly making him mine. That is what we vampires do, whether we wish to or not.
"You never hesitated... you never regretted all the deaths you caused...?" He leaves the question hanging.
"Why should I have? They were mortal, and therefore they would one-day die. I am immortal, I shall live for all eternity."
"Doesn't that ever bother you? That you'll never die?"
I pause, a question I have many times considered has been posed, and I give the answer I could never give to any other who might ask,
"There have been times, in my life, when the idea of eternity, seemed, temporarily, unbearable. I will not lie, there have been times when I have longed for death, and even times when I have actively sought it. You are right to think that immortality is not all péches et créme."
"Peaches and cream," He corrects absently, and I nod impassively.
"After Fiona, however, I realised there were perks I had not considered. The bond I share with her is deepened by our mutual nature. It sickens you, this nature of mine, does it not?" I ask
He flushes, "Not really. I just..."
I smirk, "It repulses you, as once it might have repulsed me, had I placed a higher value on human life."
He nods, "It never disgusted you, did it?"
I consider his query, how inhuman I must seem to him that he should ask such a question. "Prozen... was very beautiful. Beautiful as I am beautiful."
"Oh," He replies, his violet eyes agreeing with my statement. That my statement might be considered egotistical occurs to me, and I look towards the shadowed mirror hidden in the crook of his office. My reflection stares back at me, my blue hair brushes my shoulders, I'd forgotten how short it was. When I was younger, mortal, I'd had long hair, hip length almost, before I'd cut it. My green eyes seem uncannily bright, unnatural, like my chiselled features. My skin is too pale, luminescent yet strangely attractive. I'm beautiful, because of what I am. Not because I was a beautiful mortal, but because I am undead, and to those who aren't the beauty I have seems unattainable. I don't explain this to my talking-man. I don't think I can. I pick up where I left off,
"I loved him because he was beautiful, and because I loved him, he did not... disgust me. He was beautiful, and I have always... appreciated beautiful things," I smile coldly at him, "But there is beauty in all things, even my murdered victims are in some way beautiful. Perhaps if I changed you, you would see past your revulsion of the act and you would see the addictive beauty of death. Or perhaps you would simply become that which we night creatures both loathe and love, a reluctant killer. A human vampire."
I tilt my head, "The idea tempts me. I should like to see which you would become. Which do you think, my tender morsel," I breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of warm human blood, and clean skin, "Would you refuse to kill, or would the blood lust become an addiction?"
He stares at me unspeaking, lost in my voice and my eyes, and my memories, and I smile, remembering.
"I would make it good for you, if I drank your blood, mon petit." I promise.
"I..." His soft voice is hesitant, "Just keep talking."
"Such conviction, mon chere," I laugh, "but I'll continue, if that's what you wish. A long time ago I accepted that I am what I am, and I embraced the darkness that was a part of who I was, so, when I came here, and killed so many, I did not lament their deaths. And yet, I could not bring myself to kill Fiona. My sweet beautiful Fiona, whom I could not kill, but dared not leave untouched."
"So you did neither," He sums up.
"Yes," I reply, noting with annoyance that my accent is more pronounced, thanks to my poking around in my memories, remembering things that should have been long dead. "Instead I took her blood into myself, and gave her my corruption. Her blood was sweet, intoxicating, and her mind was bright and pure. Tasting her was a high the like of which I have never before or since experienced. Even the physical act of intimacy between us cannot compare to that first taste of innocence, and the perverse pleasure of corrupting my innocent soulmate. I soiled her, corrupted her, in every sense of the word. I made her mine, and I made her dark, yet there is still an innocence about her, that is sickeningly sweet, yet undeniably... Fiona. It makes me ache all over to know that virtue is mine to take over and over again, every time I make love to her in a darkened alley, every time I see her kill, I remember that once she was pure, and I took that purity from her and made her what she is."
His eyes are wide, he doesn't seem to understand that vampire love is contradictory, and almost violent in its intensity.
"I love her, and I love being the source of her corruption, but when she is fully corrupted, she will no longer be the Fiona I love, and for that, I will hate myself for all eternity, for she is the only thing that gives my life meaning."
"If you love her now, surely you will love her, even if she changes. She'll still be Fiona," He comforts.
I shrug, "I suppose. But it is her innocence that I love, that I lust after, as well as her body, and her soul. I would love her still if she were like me, evil, but she would not be Fiona, and therefore I would not love her as Fiona."
"Oh. Then maybe you should just love her while you can, and let the future be the future. Who knows, maybe you'll be wrong about her changing."
"You are a clever little morsel talking man," I muse, rather impressed, "And I am curious, pet. You never did answer my question."
"Which question?" He replies, understandably confused. I'm releasing my hold on his mind; I want him to be lucid when I drink.
"If I changed you, my sweet," My cold lips brush his neck as I move, faster then he can see, to stand behind him, "Would you refuse to kill, or would the blood lust become an addiction?"
"I..." His head lolls, his breathing uneven, "I..."
"Well if you can't tell me, I'll have to find out on my own."
He lets out a slight whimper as my teeth sink into his neck, and I drink deeply. He's a useful creature, this 'psychiatrist'. Perhaps my bond brother will tell this little man all the dirty secrets hiding in his brain. I hope so, for I love him, and this talking man has done wonders for my heavy heart.
His blood's not too bad either.
I bite my wrist, and hold it out for the young doctor to drink from. His eyes are slightly glazed, but he drinks.
And as he drinks I remember, this is what my sire did to me, and one day, this child that I am creating, will give this curse to a child of his very own. And my corruption will spread.
I suppose I had no need to tell this child of mine about the club, or my reckless decisions to change not only my beautiful soulmate, but also a psychiatrist who knows all my secrets. I draw my wrist away, pushing the man out of my embrace, tenderness and hatred mix. He is no longer innocent, but his innocence is mine.
He looks at me through his damp, slightly blood smeared bangs, my blood staining his lips. I smile coldly,
"Come Ken. We're going home."
Authors Notes: I got told chapter 2 was light and fluffy compared to chapter 1. This is my return to darkness. Lookie, blood, gruesomeness, and semi-insane Reese. But no Reese/Raven-ness. I finally saw an episode with them two together, Raven taking care of injured Resse, but if I can blatantly ignore the fact that Matt marries Sora in Digimon (He loves Tai I tell you, Tai - not Sora), then I can delude myself about zoids too. It also gave me the whole Reese-hating-Hiltz thing *grins*.
*Huggles Reese* Innit she cute? By the way, Reese does have a slight French accent in this, and her pronunciation of Paris is Pahr-ee, because I wince whenever anyone says Par-iss. I think Reese would be hot with a French accent (Think Lestat in Queen of the Damned *drools*). Besides if people can like Karl and Thomas then I can like Reese (And Rei from EVA, and that hot silver-haired star-scout. Well he's only a chick when he transforms, but he's majorly spunky) Reese is a hottie, but she should NOT be with Raven. Don't ask me how that works. ^_^'
Next chapter will be Ravens POV, if you guys want me to write it, and will probably be darker still. And it will have a return to yaoi!
Fiona's chapter was lighter because to begin with, she's not an angsty person. Also, I'm trying to vary this a little bit. Who wants to read the same thing over and over again?
I hope I haven't bored anyone with the other two perspective's, they are an important part of the story (I'm not just getting off on the lesbianism), I'm building this up so that I can write Raven's chapter, he's probably going to be my favourite. Unfortunately, given that I just started year 12, and am taking 5 VERY hard subjects and I'm gonna get a job, my writing is gonna suffer, so the next chapter will probably be on hold till next holidays, unless I get a day off when I've finished my homework and feel like writing. Sorry you guys.
Also I wanna thank Maelgwyn who reviewed (and wrote that really cool fic where Reese/Ryss was HOT and Thomas had a super-cute boyfriend ^_^'), and Diamond Dew (whose work I *still* worship)