Angelus, spent and satiated, fell to the side of the bed in exquisite
agony. The fuck he had just given, and just received, drunk on Mary's blood
which dripped off his fangs like warm honey, made his eyelids feel heavy -
and was enough to (temporarily) lull him to sleep. William was aware of the
potent soporific effects that resulted from simultaneously fucking and
feeding, and felt secure enough to kneel beside Angelus, whose demon-face
had been slowly changing back to his mortal one, and licked the sides of
his mouth, where the blood had been collecting before it silently started
to trickle to the floor.
He heard the slow beating of a heart, and then he ceased to hear anything at all, so he assumed that Mary was probably dead. Outside a door creaked open and he heard footsteps. Seeing that Angelus was still sleeping, he slowly opened the door to see who it was. Outside, framed by the dull light emanating from her room, was a young girl, wearing a flimsy nightgown with long sleeves. She still had her stockings on and her hair fell down in messy red curls down her shoulders. She smelled of other men, but her smell was particularly ripe since he could also smell the beginning of her menses, and he was so very, very famished. Angelus was all for playing with his food but never sharing it, and when the red-headed phoenix lifted up her shirt to expose herself, he quickly forgot all about Mary's honeyblood and thoughts of expensive buttered toast.
Her room was much smaller than Mary's: the bed was small, the curtains in need of dusting. She licked her lips and got naked, and William pulled out the five thickers he nicked from Angelus's coat-pocket.
"None of that." She waved her arm as to dismiss his payment. William still had his trousers on but his shirt was on the floor next to Mary's bed, and the red-headed phoenix took advantage of this and knelt before him and began to twist his nipples with her fingers while nuzzling her face near his cockstand. "Want something else, sir. Something only you can give me." She looked up at him, and for a half-second she had a mad glint in her eye that was wholly Drusilla-like.
He wanted to drink her. Finish her off. But there was something so curious and odd about this whole situation that his hunger pangs had by now become a slight annoyance rather than bloodlust in need of resolution.
"What is it you want?"
"Isn't it quite plain? But first -" she slipped his cock out from his trousers -"let us put Nebuchadnezzar out to grass."
He quickly bent the phoenix over the bed and hiked up her gown, but her look of discomfort was so alarming (and out of nowhere he began to think of his mother being in the same room with him), that he naturally flipped her over onto her back and was shocked to see that her cunt had so much hair on it. He'd always thought of female genitalia as being a perfectly smoothed V of holiness, and was befuddled that it was just as messy and smelly as his own organ. But before he entered her she had exposed the alabaster skin of her neck, which he knew to be a sign of her desire for him to take her, though he wasn't quite sure if she was asking to be turned or pleading for death. But before he bent down to drink from her he heard Angelus feet tap on the floor, and when William turned around he saw him standing at the doorway with a wicked smile, the wrinkles around his mouth slightly hinting at what sort of debaucheries he had in mind.
But as quickly as Angelus came through the door his mood turned quickly sour, and his brow furrowed petulantly as he said: "On your knees, William. Bring your ladybird here."
Without speaking, the phoenix approached Angelus and exposed her slim neck. William fumbled around with Angelus's trouser buttons, his fingers quaking with rage, wanting so much to kill him, wanting so much to fuck everyone, turn anyone, beat the bloody bastard with his fists until he surrendered what was his. Sadly, William knew all too well that he would do nothing. Simply, because he was nothing. Nothing to Drusilla and certainly nothing to this red-headed whore. As he deep-throated Angelus he heard him rip through the phoenix's throat and then, later, slash his own wrists to complete what was already in motion. By the time Angelus came in his mouth the phoenix had already been lying stiff in a pool of blood on the floor. To be found and later buried in a mass grave later in the week, only to rise and realize that it was all for naught and that becoming Undead was just as incredibly stupid as being Dead. William was admittedly curious at first: what did she want from him? Was it death or immortality? But when he saw Angelus brush off his clothing and head toward the door he thought it best to do as Angelus did: take what you want and fuck all the rest because they no longer had any business in being rational creatures.
He heard the slow beating of a heart, and then he ceased to hear anything at all, so he assumed that Mary was probably dead. Outside a door creaked open and he heard footsteps. Seeing that Angelus was still sleeping, he slowly opened the door to see who it was. Outside, framed by the dull light emanating from her room, was a young girl, wearing a flimsy nightgown with long sleeves. She still had her stockings on and her hair fell down in messy red curls down her shoulders. She smelled of other men, but her smell was particularly ripe since he could also smell the beginning of her menses, and he was so very, very famished. Angelus was all for playing with his food but never sharing it, and when the red-headed phoenix lifted up her shirt to expose herself, he quickly forgot all about Mary's honeyblood and thoughts of expensive buttered toast.
Her room was much smaller than Mary's: the bed was small, the curtains in need of dusting. She licked her lips and got naked, and William pulled out the five thickers he nicked from Angelus's coat-pocket.
"None of that." She waved her arm as to dismiss his payment. William still had his trousers on but his shirt was on the floor next to Mary's bed, and the red-headed phoenix took advantage of this and knelt before him and began to twist his nipples with her fingers while nuzzling her face near his cockstand. "Want something else, sir. Something only you can give me." She looked up at him, and for a half-second she had a mad glint in her eye that was wholly Drusilla-like.
He wanted to drink her. Finish her off. But there was something so curious and odd about this whole situation that his hunger pangs had by now become a slight annoyance rather than bloodlust in need of resolution.
"What is it you want?"
"Isn't it quite plain? But first -" she slipped his cock out from his trousers -"let us put Nebuchadnezzar out to grass."
He quickly bent the phoenix over the bed and hiked up her gown, but her look of discomfort was so alarming (and out of nowhere he began to think of his mother being in the same room with him), that he naturally flipped her over onto her back and was shocked to see that her cunt had so much hair on it. He'd always thought of female genitalia as being a perfectly smoothed V of holiness, and was befuddled that it was just as messy and smelly as his own organ. But before he entered her she had exposed the alabaster skin of her neck, which he knew to be a sign of her desire for him to take her, though he wasn't quite sure if she was asking to be turned or pleading for death. But before he bent down to drink from her he heard Angelus feet tap on the floor, and when William turned around he saw him standing at the doorway with a wicked smile, the wrinkles around his mouth slightly hinting at what sort of debaucheries he had in mind.
But as quickly as Angelus came through the door his mood turned quickly sour, and his brow furrowed petulantly as he said: "On your knees, William. Bring your ladybird here."
Without speaking, the phoenix approached Angelus and exposed her slim neck. William fumbled around with Angelus's trouser buttons, his fingers quaking with rage, wanting so much to kill him, wanting so much to fuck everyone, turn anyone, beat the bloody bastard with his fists until he surrendered what was his. Sadly, William knew all too well that he would do nothing. Simply, because he was nothing. Nothing to Drusilla and certainly nothing to this red-headed whore. As he deep-throated Angelus he heard him rip through the phoenix's throat and then, later, slash his own wrists to complete what was already in motion. By the time Angelus came in his mouth the phoenix had already been lying stiff in a pool of blood on the floor. To be found and later buried in a mass grave later in the week, only to rise and realize that it was all for naught and that becoming Undead was just as incredibly stupid as being Dead. William was admittedly curious at first: what did she want from him? Was it death or immortality? But when he saw Angelus brush off his clothing and head toward the door he thought it best to do as Angelus did: take what you want and fuck all the rest because they no longer had any business in being rational creatures.
