Alfred murmured something under his breath and sat in the darkness of the
castle's living room - content with his bottle of wine, cosy fire, dull
lighting, and a good book. His soft blue eyes scanned the pages thoroughly,
not wanting to miss a single detail, a single word, or a single letter.
Tight red lips became moist with the long slick tongue running over them,
and he paled slightly; managing to whisper "Damnit" under his breath.
"Vampires," The book stated, "must continue to drink their fill of the living blood, else they suffer incredible pain and a great loss of mind. Most of the unwilling victims to the Nosferatu try to run from their destiny by drinking the blood of dogs and cats, but they are only simply prolonging the inevitable. Soon, these rejects will feed on the living and become the savage half vampire, half mutant beasts that roam graveyards and attack anything in a wild fury of pain and lust and."
Alfred closed the book, groaning softly and reaching out to grasp the wine bottle in his trembling hand, proceeding in taking a healthy swig. The liquid burned his throat and made him retch openly, but he didn't care. Let the fucking stuff settle in my throat for all I care! I'm as damned as damned can be! Nowadays, all his thoughts were bitter, not willing to forget the fact that yes he was cursed, and yes he would have to feed if he wished to keep his sanity.
"Sir Alfred? Here is the wine you requested. A light blend of." Alfred's ears pricked at the sound of his maid's voice, but soon reduced her wine description to background noise in the back of his head as he listened to but one voice in the back of his head. Feed.go on.feed. His nostrils flared and his throat became incredibly dry, despite the saliva dripping around his lips, his teeth.his fangs. He could smell her.actually smell the soft perfumed scent of her skin, mixed with human sweat, freshly washed hair, scented soap.and lust.
Shakily, he rose to his feet, heading towards her as if he intended to take the wine she was still describing, unaware of her Master's change in posture, in expression, and in voice. As softly as a cat, he paced behind her and snaked his arms around her waist; purring softly in the back of his throat. "S-Sir?" The maid felt the chilling air of Alfred's breath by her ear and clutched the tray of wine as though it were a safety guard. "Sir I.ungh." She made a soft moan in the back of her throat as Alfred lowered his head to her neck, kissing her, licking at her skin, making sure that the innocent, sweet, virgin maid was falling under his hypnotic spell.
Alfred's eyes closed softly as his lips pressed against the soft flesh again and again, savouring the taste like he would a fine wine or a delicious meal. To him, this was a starter, main course and dessert all in one. The twin fangs slid from their sheaths inside his mouth, eager for a taste of this fine wine, this three course meal.this.victim.
"NO!" Alfred turned his head away harshly and fled from the room, his long red jacket flowing behind him, as the stunned maid fell to the floor, her slender hand running alongside the kisses on her neck. "Sir?" Her soft green eyes glanced around in fear, her mind unable to comprehend what the Master had just done. Slowly, very hesitantly, she picked herself up off the floor and gathered up the glasses and wine bottles, her eyes closing softly with the mere thought of the gentle kisses and the tender licks.
(***)
James 'Hunk' Cooper sighed softly in the helicopter and leaned back against the cold metal panelling covering the sides of the transport. He ran his fingers through his short-cut brown hair and fumbled in his pockets for a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. Taking the first one his hand touched, he raised the stick of nicotine to his pinkish lips and held it firmly in his mouth. A few seconds later, the lit cigarette hung loosely from his mouth; a few specks of ash free falling from the end.
"Agent Hunk, prepare for landing and get ready to transport the cargo." The commanding officer turned to face his number one operative and nodded respectfully. Hunk shrugged and slipped on a pair of tight leather gloves worn only when handling dangerous cargo. Damn.I shouldn't be doing shit like this! I'm a fucking number one ranking officer! Not some low-minded slave! I should be out there, guns blazing, teeth gritted, backed up against a wall, and kicking the shit outta those Umbrella monsters!
"Alas.where have those days gone?" He murmured underneath his breath, as he lifted the first crate labelled 'Fragile' and began to carry it to the Ashford Palace, remembering those days when Umbrella were the ones giving him the orders. Alfred Ashford, now the Lord of the Ashford family, had been Hunk's friend since Military Training - Hunk being five years older than Alfred - and had tagged along with the soon-to-be Umbrella Agent like a small puppy.
Alfred used to be a full head shorter than Hunk, with large glittery blue eyes, a cutesy thin face, and a large shock of blonde hair that fell over his eyes at random points. Due to his cute nature and his short height, he had quickly earned himself the nickname of 'The Baby' or sometimes 'Short Stuff'. Hunk had always been the tall and bodyguard-like figure over Alfred, and had earned the nickname 'Hunk' from size, strength, and speed alone.
Hunk breathed in softly and shook his head clear of the past, noticing the dull atmosphere around him. That's odd.where are all the guards.and the noise of the prisoners? The guards over at the post aren't talking. It's like a curse came over this island in just one night! Shifting uneasily, the soldier placed the box down at the steps to Ashford Palace and banged loudly on the door three times, unable to block out the silence that followed.
There was a click of a lick and then the double doors parted softly revealing a pair of beautiful grey eyes that Hunk hadn't seen in a long time. The eyes shifted and then the door opened even more, revealing the lanky form of Alfred Ashford, looking thinner and smaller than ever. His blonde hair was wet and dripping; the faint smell of shampoo in the air. He wore a black T-shirt with the words 'The Children of Evil are Always Insane' written upon it, and a pair of black jeans that wrapped tightly around his thighs and waist making him look like a short, black stick insect. His feet were bare and his toes curled under at contact with the tiles of the front porch.
"Hunk?" The light tone drifted into Hunk's ears and gave the older male a sense of an uneasy mind. "Yeah it's me." Hunk bowed low and picked up the box, waiting to be permitted entrance into the beautiful home of the Younger-by-ten-minutes one of the Ashford twins. Alfred stepped onto the tiled floor, his feet making that soft 'pad, pad, pad' sound as he walked.
"Forgive me for not speaking," he declared lightly and hesitantly as he showed Hunk the storage room, "but I'm kind of on edge right now. I'm not feeling very well.so bear with me." Hunk mentally snickered at Alfred's British phrases, remembering how Alfred used to always have to explain certain things to him almost immediately after he'd said them. "Yeah, yeah.sure. Whatever you say." Hunk smiled and nodded softly, making Alfred's lips pull up into a semi-smile.
"It.has been.a while.Agent Hunk." Alfred stared softly out of a large window in the theatre room and placed one hand on the glass softly, his grey eyes appearing as if they were looking at something only he himself could see. "Ah shit, Baby.just call me Hunk, or even James!" The taller man shook his head and patted the Master of the Island on the back softly. The smaller man gazed up at his friend and blushed redly, his eyes sparkling.
(***)
Alfred had wished that today wasn't the day for any deliveries, but fate was determined to make him go crazy. Worse than that, he could actually smell how fresh and tasty a meal that his best friend would make. His fangs slid from their sheaths inside his mouth, threatening to bite, to suck, and to drain the life out of the ex-Umbrella soldier.
Self control Alfred.self-control. You're not some middle age punk who goes around losing his mind! You're an Ashford.but.you're also cursed are you not? Alfred's mind swam with visions of him leaping and tearing at Hunk's throat, finally getting the meal he deserved. "Do.do you mind if I just retreat to my room? You do know where to put the cargo, right?" He asked Hunk meekly, clenching his fists and gazing up at his comrade. Hunk shrugged.
"Sure.why not? Go right ahead.it was nice talking to you." Before Hunk could finish, Alfred was already heading up to his office, slipping behind the secret door so he could gain access to the hillside leading to the castle. His smooth black shoes clicked with every step he took, and his fangs burst from his gums - his eyes taking on a reddish tint as he lunged forwards and grabbed a butler on his way down from the castle.
The man didn't have time to scream as Alfred bit down and furiously tore away the skin, flesh and bone, burying his face deep within the gash so he could lap at the blood inside. He could feel his tongue and fangs working in unison as he drained the blood from his victim, not caring about the red oozing down his pale face.
With a thirsty cry, Alfred tore his face away from the man's neck and began to lick away blood from his own nails and lips - wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve. Slowly, he looked down at the corpse and tried to identify the person through the mass of blood and gore. Oh no.it can't be. Alfred backed away with fear in his eyes as his mind worked at the dead person's identity.
Alfred Edward Ashford, the calmest ruler Rockfort had ever been under, fled up the path to the castle, as the corpse of the family's loyalist butler - Scott Harman - lay there unblinking.waiting to be discovered by the head maid, Kirsty, the next morning.
Part 3? Just ask!
"Vampires," The book stated, "must continue to drink their fill of the living blood, else they suffer incredible pain and a great loss of mind. Most of the unwilling victims to the Nosferatu try to run from their destiny by drinking the blood of dogs and cats, but they are only simply prolonging the inevitable. Soon, these rejects will feed on the living and become the savage half vampire, half mutant beasts that roam graveyards and attack anything in a wild fury of pain and lust and."
Alfred closed the book, groaning softly and reaching out to grasp the wine bottle in his trembling hand, proceeding in taking a healthy swig. The liquid burned his throat and made him retch openly, but he didn't care. Let the fucking stuff settle in my throat for all I care! I'm as damned as damned can be! Nowadays, all his thoughts were bitter, not willing to forget the fact that yes he was cursed, and yes he would have to feed if he wished to keep his sanity.
"Sir Alfred? Here is the wine you requested. A light blend of." Alfred's ears pricked at the sound of his maid's voice, but soon reduced her wine description to background noise in the back of his head as he listened to but one voice in the back of his head. Feed.go on.feed. His nostrils flared and his throat became incredibly dry, despite the saliva dripping around his lips, his teeth.his fangs. He could smell her.actually smell the soft perfumed scent of her skin, mixed with human sweat, freshly washed hair, scented soap.and lust.
Shakily, he rose to his feet, heading towards her as if he intended to take the wine she was still describing, unaware of her Master's change in posture, in expression, and in voice. As softly as a cat, he paced behind her and snaked his arms around her waist; purring softly in the back of his throat. "S-Sir?" The maid felt the chilling air of Alfred's breath by her ear and clutched the tray of wine as though it were a safety guard. "Sir I.ungh." She made a soft moan in the back of her throat as Alfred lowered his head to her neck, kissing her, licking at her skin, making sure that the innocent, sweet, virgin maid was falling under his hypnotic spell.
Alfred's eyes closed softly as his lips pressed against the soft flesh again and again, savouring the taste like he would a fine wine or a delicious meal. To him, this was a starter, main course and dessert all in one. The twin fangs slid from their sheaths inside his mouth, eager for a taste of this fine wine, this three course meal.this.victim.
"NO!" Alfred turned his head away harshly and fled from the room, his long red jacket flowing behind him, as the stunned maid fell to the floor, her slender hand running alongside the kisses on her neck. "Sir?" Her soft green eyes glanced around in fear, her mind unable to comprehend what the Master had just done. Slowly, very hesitantly, she picked herself up off the floor and gathered up the glasses and wine bottles, her eyes closing softly with the mere thought of the gentle kisses and the tender licks.
(***)
James 'Hunk' Cooper sighed softly in the helicopter and leaned back against the cold metal panelling covering the sides of the transport. He ran his fingers through his short-cut brown hair and fumbled in his pockets for a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. Taking the first one his hand touched, he raised the stick of nicotine to his pinkish lips and held it firmly in his mouth. A few seconds later, the lit cigarette hung loosely from his mouth; a few specks of ash free falling from the end.
"Agent Hunk, prepare for landing and get ready to transport the cargo." The commanding officer turned to face his number one operative and nodded respectfully. Hunk shrugged and slipped on a pair of tight leather gloves worn only when handling dangerous cargo. Damn.I shouldn't be doing shit like this! I'm a fucking number one ranking officer! Not some low-minded slave! I should be out there, guns blazing, teeth gritted, backed up against a wall, and kicking the shit outta those Umbrella monsters!
"Alas.where have those days gone?" He murmured underneath his breath, as he lifted the first crate labelled 'Fragile' and began to carry it to the Ashford Palace, remembering those days when Umbrella were the ones giving him the orders. Alfred Ashford, now the Lord of the Ashford family, had been Hunk's friend since Military Training - Hunk being five years older than Alfred - and had tagged along with the soon-to-be Umbrella Agent like a small puppy.
Alfred used to be a full head shorter than Hunk, with large glittery blue eyes, a cutesy thin face, and a large shock of blonde hair that fell over his eyes at random points. Due to his cute nature and his short height, he had quickly earned himself the nickname of 'The Baby' or sometimes 'Short Stuff'. Hunk had always been the tall and bodyguard-like figure over Alfred, and had earned the nickname 'Hunk' from size, strength, and speed alone.
Hunk breathed in softly and shook his head clear of the past, noticing the dull atmosphere around him. That's odd.where are all the guards.and the noise of the prisoners? The guards over at the post aren't talking. It's like a curse came over this island in just one night! Shifting uneasily, the soldier placed the box down at the steps to Ashford Palace and banged loudly on the door three times, unable to block out the silence that followed.
There was a click of a lick and then the double doors parted softly revealing a pair of beautiful grey eyes that Hunk hadn't seen in a long time. The eyes shifted and then the door opened even more, revealing the lanky form of Alfred Ashford, looking thinner and smaller than ever. His blonde hair was wet and dripping; the faint smell of shampoo in the air. He wore a black T-shirt with the words 'The Children of Evil are Always Insane' written upon it, and a pair of black jeans that wrapped tightly around his thighs and waist making him look like a short, black stick insect. His feet were bare and his toes curled under at contact with the tiles of the front porch.
"Hunk?" The light tone drifted into Hunk's ears and gave the older male a sense of an uneasy mind. "Yeah it's me." Hunk bowed low and picked up the box, waiting to be permitted entrance into the beautiful home of the Younger-by-ten-minutes one of the Ashford twins. Alfred stepped onto the tiled floor, his feet making that soft 'pad, pad, pad' sound as he walked.
"Forgive me for not speaking," he declared lightly and hesitantly as he showed Hunk the storage room, "but I'm kind of on edge right now. I'm not feeling very well.so bear with me." Hunk mentally snickered at Alfred's British phrases, remembering how Alfred used to always have to explain certain things to him almost immediately after he'd said them. "Yeah, yeah.sure. Whatever you say." Hunk smiled and nodded softly, making Alfred's lips pull up into a semi-smile.
"It.has been.a while.Agent Hunk." Alfred stared softly out of a large window in the theatre room and placed one hand on the glass softly, his grey eyes appearing as if they were looking at something only he himself could see. "Ah shit, Baby.just call me Hunk, or even James!" The taller man shook his head and patted the Master of the Island on the back softly. The smaller man gazed up at his friend and blushed redly, his eyes sparkling.
(***)
Alfred had wished that today wasn't the day for any deliveries, but fate was determined to make him go crazy. Worse than that, he could actually smell how fresh and tasty a meal that his best friend would make. His fangs slid from their sheaths inside his mouth, threatening to bite, to suck, and to drain the life out of the ex-Umbrella soldier.
Self control Alfred.self-control. You're not some middle age punk who goes around losing his mind! You're an Ashford.but.you're also cursed are you not? Alfred's mind swam with visions of him leaping and tearing at Hunk's throat, finally getting the meal he deserved. "Do.do you mind if I just retreat to my room? You do know where to put the cargo, right?" He asked Hunk meekly, clenching his fists and gazing up at his comrade. Hunk shrugged.
"Sure.why not? Go right ahead.it was nice talking to you." Before Hunk could finish, Alfred was already heading up to his office, slipping behind the secret door so he could gain access to the hillside leading to the castle. His smooth black shoes clicked with every step he took, and his fangs burst from his gums - his eyes taking on a reddish tint as he lunged forwards and grabbed a butler on his way down from the castle.
The man didn't have time to scream as Alfred bit down and furiously tore away the skin, flesh and bone, burying his face deep within the gash so he could lap at the blood inside. He could feel his tongue and fangs working in unison as he drained the blood from his victim, not caring about the red oozing down his pale face.
With a thirsty cry, Alfred tore his face away from the man's neck and began to lick away blood from his own nails and lips - wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve. Slowly, he looked down at the corpse and tried to identify the person through the mass of blood and gore. Oh no.it can't be. Alfred backed away with fear in his eyes as his mind worked at the dead person's identity.
Alfred Edward Ashford, the calmest ruler Rockfort had ever been under, fled up the path to the castle, as the corpse of the family's loyalist butler - Scott Harman - lay there unblinking.waiting to be discovered by the head maid, Kirsty, the next morning.
Part 3? Just ask!