The Crimson Tides
Chapter 2 – Trapped in a Web
By Black Widow & Sayori
A newspaper fluttered in the wind, headline bolding declaring the mysterious deaths of two people, one a mother of three, the other a small child. A foot crushed the paper, the owner smiling in contempt before turning his face to the sky. Swollen clouds of gray-yellow were rolling in from the ocean, thick with rain. There would be a storm tonight, a very bad storm. Perfect hunting time.
Sitting in a cafe that stayed open 24 hours a day, a young man in a tan trench coat folded the day's newspaper in disgust, lying his full coffee cup on top to keep the pages from blowing away. It was about to rain, and the wind was picking up slowly. He had chosen to sit out-of-doors, but might regret the decision shortly.
"Idiot, idiot, idiot," he repeated to himself over and over again, mentally reviewing every mistake he had made the previous night. He shuddered at the memory of the elder vampire, his red eyes and bleached skin. He had never met one of his kind with red eyes. Always with gold.
Cyric swept through the sidewalks of Tokyo, smiling at the disgruntled looks of the people. They had no idea who he was, nor how dangerous he was, and he wanted to keep it that way. Now, how would he disturb his Youngling tonight? He seemed quite opposed to the innocents being harmed; there was his key. Hurt those who had nothing to do with them. And he had a plan...
He couldn't resist the paper before him. Shido moved his cup and unfolded it, eyeing the front page briefly. He had already read that section four times, making himself feel a little worse each time. Instead of grinding the glass further into his skin, he flipped the paper open and read the first article he saw. It was a bland story about a company taking over another one, but he always liked to read every section of the newspapers. Idly he stirred his untouched drink with one finger, his other hand cupping his face to support it as he read. He made quite the comical little picture. Passerby's smiled at him, the aged mostly in amusement.
Turning the page, Shido sighed, suddenly bored. The paper wasn't appealing for once. The news was all the same, except for the murder on the front cover. He left the paper with its front page facing downward, avoiding the news in his own way. He knew the story anyway. He relaxed into the back of his chair for a moment, but found he couldn't rest at all. A restless, nagging feeling had creeped into him. Leaving a substantial tip with his miniscule bill, he left the outdoor cafe hastily. He just needed to walk, he told himself.
Get some air. It wasn't hunger that gnawed within him, but rather something, anything, else. In his state of contemplation, he barely noticed the rain.
The streets around him emptied quickly, people wanting out of the downpour as soon as possible. But like the streets, the hole of darkness swallowed his mind, depositing him in the hot sands once more.
The man from earlier was half-buried in the sand, eyes closed and hair swept about by the wild winds. His skin was red, burned and cracked from the exposure of the deadly rays. There was no sign that he was alive except the rhythmic fall and rise of his chest. Time passed, the sun setting on the horizon, while the Lady Moon rose to the peak. A figure appeared not a few feet away, wreathed in a tattered dark brown cloak, white hair trailing on the ground. It scooped the mans body from the sand, murmuring soft words of comfort to him before turning on it's heel and walking away.
That vision faded away to a murky warehouse, rain pounding on the tin roof. Crates filled the first floor, stamped in large red letters the address of the warehouse. Downtown Tokyo, dock district.
Stunned into a cease of motion like last time, he looked all around himself through the rain. Everyone had scuttled out of the dark, rainy night, but him of course. Anyone would have called his decision stupid, reckless, but Shido's curiosity was one of his downfalls. He knew the areas on the box he had seen, and headed into that direction. Perhaps he could finish what the night before had started...
Cyric waited in silence, listening to the sounds of the captives behind him. He knew the Youngling was coming, the telepathic bond he had constructed informed him of the violet-haired mans every move. It truly did sicken him to see how naive and stupid he was to coming running to what only could be a trap.
Shido didn't waste any time getting to the docks. For some reason he thought of captives, though nothing would have hinted at that. That white haired vampire was probably there, waiting, with the captives. The thought just seemed to make perfect sense to him. He had no proof, but it just did.
The door was unlocked, and Shido cringed. This was going to be bad, he had that feeling.
Melting into the shadows, he waited. The three young men waiting for their rescuer was the perfect trap. Being as he was though, he had picked only the best for this trap. One was flawlessly Asian, tilted eyes, a round face and olive skin, the second Australian with brown hair, a angular face and full lips, the third was African with the darkest skin, lithe body and long white hair. Only the best for the best he mused, and they weren't for Shido.
He saw the young men first, and stared. Three? What kind of appetite did this guy have? And where had he found them, just wandering the streets?
Shido stepped toward them, senses pricked, eyes gold. He didn't feel the other one, and something about that wasn't right. HE should be able to feel him, smell him, something.
A slow smile curled the lips of the Elder. Oh, how cute...and naive. He found himself repeating that a lot about Shido. Young, stupid and naive. A very bad combination.
The three boys stared at the vampyre, eyes wide with fright. The brunette hid behind the taller African, whom bared his teeth around his gag. The Asian one stared beyond Shido, as if lost in thought.
He looked over his shoulder once, twice. What was that guy staring at? The other vampire?
He turned to face the darkness, his back to the boys. Why couldn't he sense the other one? He could always sense others... especially Cain. Why not this red-eyed demon of a vampire?
The doors of the warehouse slammed shut, two gold-eyed vampyres moving to stand in front of it. Two more moved to stand by Shido's side, the last crouched atop a pile of empty crates, and gold eyes tinged red.
Cyric revealed himself along with his children, stroking the hair of the African. "Hello again, Shido."
"Oh no..." he whispered, eyes darting from vampire to vampire, then finally to Cyric. He was caught between a snarl and a whimper. He chose the obstinate road, as always.
"What are you doing? What's the meaning of this?" He glared at Cyric angrily, annoyed at both the other vampire and himself. He shouldn't have been so stupid, but what was done was done.
"It was a trap, of course." The bleached hand moved down to stroke the black cheek of the teen, a striking comparison. Black and white, life and death. "Of course, now that you're here...these three have outlived their usefulness." The five vampyres shifted restlessly, though they uttered not a sound. "Oh yes...I would like you to meet my children, Ahbram, George, Kyle, David and Mariko."
At the statement which no doubt ensured the death of the three innocent teenagers, Shido bared his teeth and snarled. How dare he! Who did he think he was? God?! Hardly. The five names perturbed him. This was bold, to show them off in such a way. He must have a great deal of confidence and pride in them.
The anger in his expression faltered as he remembered Cain had once been very propped of him and his progress. Recollections were not appropriate then, so he attempted to shove them to the back of his mind. The damage was already done, despite his efforts. Memories plagued him quietly. The one he saw the most was the one that was most vivid. Cain had been teaching his to use mind control on others, and he had done well. His reward had been sweet, as always. A blush marred his light complexion, and he wished to be gone from this place with a fervor he hadn't thought possible. This was all a very bad mistake. His stupidity was becoming painfully obvious. Had he not been so reckless.. perhaps.
Cyric laughed, the tone rising from the sweet melodic tones of silver bell to the deep somberness of hollow wood. "Oh I will not kill them! That is a waste of perfectly beautiful flesh. I will merely turn them, lovely." Turning his back on the other vampyre, his gaze alighted on the terrified teens. "Look upon this Youngling, my sweets, for he is the reason you shall live accursed lives." Sinking to his knees before the Asian, he tilted his head to the side, baring his fangs.
"No!" Shido darted forward, not thinking at all. Idiot child, he could hear echo for a split second in the back of his mind, but he paid it no thought. He had to stop him.
All five vampyres snapped into motion, immediately, moving by unheard commands. The two behind him leapt at him, hoping to bare him to the ground as the other two slashed at him with katana's. The last landed in front of Cyric, crouched down in a defensive position. This one was the only female in the warehouse.
She would have been beautiful, with long hair the color of black ink, skin swallow with sickness and slender in the body, if it had not been for the dual scars running from her forehead to under her clothes, ending at her ankles. She was old, the red-tinged eyes and hissing lending to that fact. She was insane, controlled but insane.
Not pausing once, Cyric drained the Asian boy of blood, ignoring the other two for the time being. Biting the inside of his mouth to start the flow of his own blood, he kissed the teen, coaxing him to swallow it.
Shido, effectively pinned to the ground, could only watch in honor. Not even that. He closed his eyes and buried his face into his shoulder. This was torture, truly.
Leaving the writhing Asian, he knelt next by the Australian, hauling him forcibly from behind the white-haired African. He planted a sweet kiss on his lips before turning him as well.
One of the katana-wielding vampyres grabbed a handful of violet hair, pulling his head up. "You'll watch what you've caused, you barbarian."
Hissing, Shido writhed in the grip of the two on top of him. "I had nothing to do with this. It's your monster of a master who's turning them!" He thrashed as best he could. He wasn't turning them, he didn't chose them, and he didn't cause this! He wasn't at fault for this tyrannical and insane behavior.
A steel-toed boot landed in the Younglings gut in a hard kick.
"Be silent, bastard." The female vampyre hissed. "You came here, and you have sentenced them to this fate by appearing here."
Cyric turned red eyes on Shido for a brief moment, blood trailing down his chin and neck, a mixture of his own and the boys. Last was the African. Cyric handled him gently, easing him into his new body slowly, so that when he was turned, it was with minimum pain and trouble.
Disgusted and in pain, he growled ceaselessly. "You're all monsters. Emotionless, moral-less, bastards of demons." They were nothing more than monsters to him, parasites that fed off of human blood and happiness. Not better than fleas or ticks on dogs. He struggled again, unwilling to watch this merciless, execution-style mass turning.
"Then what are you?" The red-tinged eyes of the female peered down at Shido. "You were a emotionless, moral-less bastard of a demon as well. You're just a sniveling pile of shit, pretending to be human."
Shido snarled, but said nothing. He had heard that refutation many times before, and wasn't surprised to hear it again. The difference between them was as basic as the purpose for existence. He fought to stop them. They brought death to innocent human beings without discretion. Having not fed for awhile kept him weaker than he would have liked, and he found himself unable to toss off the two who held him. Panting from exertion, he quit and stayed still, trying to regain some of the energy his struggle had cost him, perhaps.
Finished with the three, the Elder vampyre stood and wiped the blood off his chin and throat, marring his white hands. "How pitiful, lovely." He flowed to stand in front of the captured Youngling, smiling down at him. "Exhausted are we?" He moved to his knees, bloody fingers resting on the Youngers' lips.
Shido jerked his face away sharply, snarling. He would bite that hand. The other one had to know that. No one touched him anymore. No one unless he let them. Though now did not seem like the time to try to assure himself of that.
Only a smile graced the bloody lips. Oh, he knew Shido would bite him but if he did he would learn quickly not to. He bit back, and harder too. Catching his chin in one strong hand, he forced his fingers into his mouth, like he would with one of his Yearlings who still clung to humanity. "Drink, my sweetling."
Startled and furious, Shido tried to shake his head, but could not get out of the tight grasp. Tossing his head didn't work either. An angry combination of a mewl and a hiss slipped out of him as he struggled minutely. He couldn't move very much, making struggling impossible. His mind screamed at him to do something, anything, but what he had no idea.
The blood on his tongue hummed sweetly, and nearly whimpered at the immediate addiction. He could taste the darkness in it, and was furious when he knew his body wanted more, yearned for it as though he had just been made over again.
"Take it, Shido." He ordered, for the first time using his name. "An exhausted vampyre does not make a good fight."
Still panting from his earlier struggles, he stilled and for the first time looked at Cyric with something other than hatred. His motions stilled and his throat muscles worked to bring the liquid down. He imagined he could feel it constrict and wear away at what Cain had left of his human heart. The thought saddened him immeasurably, but his body wasn't listening to him any longer. The gold in his eyes strengthened slowly, and the dullness that had creeped into his hair from deprivation left. He was radiant again, the picture of what had attracted Cain to him in the first place.
"Now that's a good boy..." Cyric all but purred, withdrawing his fingers when the blood was gone. He had to say that Cain had good taste in his Children. Shido was beautiful, and something he wanted alone. Before he had wanted to keep the Youngling to spite his Sire but that had changed, he wanted him. Him, Shido Tatsuhiko, his mind, his body and what was left of his soul.
Shido panted still, but no longer from his previous efforts. He was flushed- most likely an after effect of the blood he would insist. Not daring to try those five children again, he remained motionless beneath the two. He didn't want to get kicked again, or prodded by weapons. Tonight had been too much of a night for him. He couldn't even think about it, or its repercussions. The yearning he had been surpressing for weeks was stronger than ever. He was completely distracted by it now.
Nodding to one of his children, he turned and checked on the Yearlings, happy to find them awake and hungry. Mariko took them out to hunt, explaining to them the ways of the Vampyre. Cyric motioned to the two holding down Shido and they melted away into the darkness. The katana-wielder left as well, following the other two on their way out. The last pulled a unconscious body out of a crate, laying it on the ground before the violet-haired vampyre.
"I offered you blood last night and you refused. I offer it again tonight, if you refuse, more will die." Backing away, he turned into the shadows, followed by his child.
"But… but........ goaddamnit." Looking from the darkness to the body, he sighed. A no-win situation. Maybe if he just took it with him.. no he'd want it later, and he knew he would. He wanted it now, after all. That wouldn't change in a few hours. One life, several lives.. one life, several lives... give in, fight some more and probably lose... His head hung down in both shame and submission. He wouldn't risk more people for one life.
"At least he is unconscious," Shido muttered, watching him. He never moved but to breath.
Sighing and mustering himself to move, Shido approached the body, kneeling beside it. The smell rising from it was all but delightful. Hesitant, and admittedly awkward, he studied the thing before rolling it to get a better angle. It had been a while for him.
The warm velvet of the winged chair encompassed his body, offering comfort. It helped him relax, as did the warm body in his lap. The African, named Azizir, had feed well that night. The life of a vampyre would suit him, as it suited Cyric. He would join the others back home in Cairo soon enough.
