Vampire Night Chapter Five by Ashford2ashford

Disclaimers: All your Ashford's are belong to me! Kay…they're not…but I had to write that sooner or later!

Rating: I'm still not sure…what would you class it as?

Pairing (s): Alfred/Alexia more than implied

Timeline: Set after the cataclysm of the Rockfort disaster. The reason the island is still there is part of the New Island Saga of an RPG. Basically, Alfred and Alexia are happy knowing Umbrella think they're dead…

Summary: Alfred and Alexia, having both mastered their power, try to stop James Cooper AKA: Hunk from discovering their secret…but James may be closer to an answer than they think…

AN: Yeah. The update was long and drawn out, but at least this will count as another fic finished! So I hope you enjoy my conclusion! If you don't….well…then I guess I'm not writing that good…

Important Notes about the Fic: In a few scenes I mention Goths and guns. In fact, I know nothing about guns, and this is not how I feel about Goths. (Remember, Mr Ashford is prone to stereotyping) If I mention an opinion about a certain culture/type of person/etc, then don't take it personally! They are not my views! I'm trying to get in the mind of a Psychopath here!
And I also know nothing about the Military and how it works…just in case I happen to mention it. Sorry! Maybe if you had background information for me I could change this fic one day…but not today…sorry!

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Vampire Night – Final Chapter – Reign of Blood

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James Cooper's sleep was haunted that night, as he recalled in the morning, haunted by dark shapes with glittering evil eyes and sharp dripping fangs. It wasn't that he'd ever been in a situation like this before, oh no, he had faced many a horrific mutation in Umbrella's care, but there had been something different about this dream, something…sinister and more human than he had liked to have imagined.
The experiments he had faced before were no longer human. They were parasites hidden away in human bodies, their rotting flesh and their ever craving hunger the only things that bore human resemblance.
Even the human tyrants had once been human, but they were unemotional killing machines now…and Hunk's job was to kill or be killed.

What disturbed him about this particular dream was that despite his ever present feeling of being hunted (a feeling he always had on missions, but knew he was also the hunter) he felt…powerless.

He sank into deep thought, trying to piece together what thoughts he had left of the dream. There had been two of them, glittering and dancing in the moonlight, and he had been stood outside in the rain, staring up at Ashford castle. Although he didn't recall this part of the dream, he had somehow ended up at the steep steps that led up there, and it was then he had become aware of his being hunted.

Then I reached for my gun…but it wasn't there. I'd left it at my dormitory.

He then began to slowly ascend, step by step…and then broke into a light bouncy step…and then he began to run. A whoop of cackling sadistic delight was heard from somewhere (he had been too preoccupied to know where it had come from) and then he heard trees and wind and water…

The eyes…how their eyes shone red in the moonlight, their claws reaching out as they revealed their fangs; so sharp and white and tainted with blood…

He had awakened from his dream there, sweat soaking his sheets, his strong muscular chest heaving with breathlessness, and his eyes wide and dilated. The thunder had jerked him from a demon's dream, and he heard for the first time the rain beating against his window and a woman's scream echoing long and pained into the night.

Standing, his boxers slick with sweat, his muscles giving off a sheen in the pale light of the full moon, James Cooper, no, Agent Hunk darted to his bedside and pulled his revolver from it's place in it's holster – checking for ammo and then loading it carefully with his sweat slicked hands.

He opened the door wide into the quiet dead night and then breathed gently.

This has to end here…

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At about the same time Hunk had been awakened by the sharp crack of thunder, Alfred Ashford had been stood outside in the pouring rain, holding the terrified maid in his clawed hands, grinning a sadistic, cold, twisted grin whilst he felt her pulse racing beneath his fingertips. Her eyes were wide and her mouth wider still, a series of whimpers and startled cries escaping her lips.
When she had screamed, startling the already blood hungry Ashford, Alfred had silenced her with a sharp twist of his strong hands, her neck snapping in his grip, his teeth meeting skin, then flesh, and then the sweet nectar he had longed for this night.

It only mattered, the pain, when he turned around to see James Cooper stood there with a smoking gun, wondering just how long the agent had stood there for. Standing to full height, his regal appearance enhanced by the perfectly straight back, the stiff jaw, the regal posture, and the beautiful clothes – prefect, neat, and only a little stained with red.

"James?" Alfred's voice came out thick, confused, yet with an air of authority that was unnatural in his normal tone. He staggered towards Hunk with one hand reaching out…and then felt the first splash of fluid hit his once black shoes. With a startled expression adorning his chiselled features, he looked down and then saw the large hole in his clothing…the same hole that led through his lower stomach and out through the other side of his body. "James? Why?"

James Cooper lowered his smoking gun and then looked at his former boss with an expression of such regret – sadness in the lines around his eyes. Fighting back all emotion he spoke with a trembling voice – still deep, yet with a hint of the emotions that wracked his own memory, "Alfred…I'm so sorry…"

Alfred opened the golden buttons on his jacket, tore open his white shirt and then revealed with clawed hands the wound already knitting itself together with a sickening hissing noise. The look on the Ashford's face resembled pure murder.

"Hunk…you…naughty…little…"

Before he could finish, Hunk had already unloaded several rounds into his chest again and again, each one hitting him and then making that same drawn out hissing noise, making Alfred stagger back slightly, and then look up with his blue eyes turning red, his grin stretching across his face until it distorted it into a mask of pure evil.

"Naughty…naughty…"

The voice had lowered to a growl, bubbling with blood and bile. Instinctively, Hunk stepped back and fired off a few more rounds, panic rising to a sickening taste in the back of his throat.
He turned round and broke into a run, the rain making the cobbled bridge slick under his footfalls; his anger vented out in a roar of frustration. Behind him, Alfred's voice had lowered to a mantra – the word 'naughty' repeated over and over again. Hunk grit his teeth and scrabbled at the wooden door at the end of the bridge, his soaked and slick hands fumbling with the door knob as Alfred's mantra changed into a bloodthirsty howl; his shows tapping against the cobbles with such blistering speed…

"NO!" Hunk shouldered the door, splinters digging into his heavily muscled shoulder as he fell inwards, landing painfully yet leaping up in time to avoid Alfred's raking claws – skin being torn into four slashed lines as the predator missed by only a few millimetres.
On his feet, Hunk ignored the wet puddle of wood and rain he'd previously lay in and turned on his old friend, gun raised once more.

"Alfred…" His voice came out hoarse, "You…you're not you…please…let me help you…I don't want to have to kill you…"

Alfred's answer was purred from smiling lips, "Hunk…dear James…please…I've never felt better. Look at you! Crying and trembling in rainwater, your own blood all over your hands, and that pitiful expression…oh dear. It seems you are the one in need of help, my dear, dear James…my sweet Agent Hunk. It would seem the odds are stacked in my favour!"

"No…" Hunk winced and tried to ignore the pain that seemed to worsen the more Alfred's hypnotic voice uttered words.

"Oh yes, Hunk…yes." Alfred smirked, his eyes returning to the shining sapphire they had always been, "Yes. Look at me. I am perfection! I am everything Umbrella worked to create but failed! I am the start of a new breed of superhuman – no…Vampire!
"Look around you! Look at the face of everyone on Rockfort; everyone in the world! All…imperfect! Then look into the mind of every teenager and every Goth in the world! They all want to become like me! They all want to become vampires! They all want to become perfect and sexy and immortal!
"Well I am, Hunk. I am everything they ever wanted and more! I am the hunter of humans, the demon of desire, and the King of my own perfect world! Join me! Join me in eternal life…friend…partner…and once upon a time, my superior. Join me, Hunk…"

As he spoke, Alfred knelt gently, fluidly, with a slow seductive cat-like movement, and extended a hand that no longer bore claws, but rather clean well kept nails, and his face looked to beautiful, pale…inviting…
James whimpered and lowered the gun, battling with emotion that he'd never shown in Umbrella. He placed a hand over his torn flesh and felt the blood and rain there; ran his hand through his hair and felt the wetness there. The Ashford before him was a friend.

Alfred Edward Ashford had joined the military when he was just sixteen – his father had been trying to get rid of him whilst Alexia was away at Umbrella's laboratories – and Hunk had taken him under his wing, teaching him the know how of training, cleaning, and doing the hard, sometimes tedious, tasks set by their superiors. The boy had been a beautiful blonde haired cherub; his wide keen blue eyes making anyone's heart melt into a false sense of security.
Hunk had known that underneath the angelic features lay the sinister mind of a future Umbrella scientist, maybe even a Commander or a General. Back then, it had all been some game to Alfred, and Hunk always kept an open mind (and had kept on Alfred's good side) because of this. There were people in the Military Division of Rockfort who lusted for the young teenager with the beauty gifts of an angel, but out of everyone on the once packed island, it was only the soon to be Agent Hunk who knew the boy's real mind.
Underneath the artist, the singer, the musician, the cute one, the angel, and the sweet attitude lay the mind of a killer…a natural born, Ashford bred killer…

In Alfred's maddened eyes now, he saw this flicker briefly and hardened his features; glaring with a mixture of pity and disgust at the blonde man before him.

"You…you make me sick, Ashford." He spat, raising the gun to fire a round into Alfred's wide open skull, barely looking up to examine the body as Alfred feel down hard, his eyes wide open, blood trailing out of his precious mouth. James Cooper was down there in spirit with him, but it was Agent Hunk who ran to the door despite pain, blood, water, and spittle, and it was certainly Agent Hunk who flung himself down the stairs of the Ashford Palace, landing neatly and perfectly.

Once out in the rain again, once the stern agent was stood in the courtyard, listening to the rain fall and the sound of his own beating heart, then, and only then, did James Cooper catch up to his own body.

"Alfred." He choked out, unable to believe that this was another occasion he had lost both a team mate and a friend to an unnatural disaster. The Birkin disaster had hardened his soul and stopped him from making any kind of close connections with any living being, but he hadn't expected Alfred to have been the cause of his mental breakage.
The Ashford's had survived their own disaster, and had relied on Hunk to keep them dead in Umbrella's eyes, so that they would never be found again. Hunk had readily accepted the job.

"Anything for an old friend, Lord Ashford."
"Please…do call me Alfred, Agent Hunk. Formalities are simply overrated in my eyes."
"Likewise, Alfred. Then please call me James."

Those words…they seemed so bitter, so cold now. The broken Agent barely acknowledged the slender figure in the blue dress carrying the blue umbrella and walking calmly in the pouring rain with the unnatural air about her. Nor did he notice her gloved hand reaching out for him until it had been placed firmly on his shoulder, her blonde hair blowing about her like a banshee.

"Hunk?"

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Damn him to hell.
Damn him to hell.
Damn him to hell!

For what seemed like hours, yet was mere minutes, Alfred Ashford repeated that sentence in a number of ways to himself, waiting for his face to heal itself, not in the mood for games anymore (not that it had been a game to him to begin with). He had given Hunk a chance and had received the last answer he had expected from his old teenage friend. There he lay, in a pool of borrowed blood (vampires blood was not their own, Alfred had read somewhere, it was the blood of their victims that ran through their veins), and had simply waited until he felt able to show his 'face' again.

So its war is it? A pity…I was looking forward to sharing my gift with him.

Alfred stepped over the wreckage of the door lightly, his feet barely touching the ground, and then followed the trail of blood and water to where Hunk had last been. The sight that greeted him was one to be remembered.

"Alexia?" Alfred whimpered his eyes wide with horror and jealousy as he noticed that his sister had achieved what he had not.

"Alfred." She confirmed, sitting there upon the steps of the palace, under the shelter of both umbrella and the overhead roof supported by two side pillars, Hunk's head in her lap, stroking through short cut brown hair gently with long fingernails, and looking so clean and perfect.

"Hunk?"

"Hello Alfred. How's your face?"

Alfred's fingertips touched the area where his face had been split and felt what he already knew. There was no mark to show that there had been any kind of opening there. His anger had now subsided to confusion, his lips pouted.

"Hunk has decided to take our generous offer of immortality into account." Alexia explained her smile soft and inviting, "He's mine, Alfred. His blood tasted sweet. Sweeter than you can ever imagine. He's still in the state of transforming, why don't you try him? My gift to you, my creator, my brother…"

Kneeling in front of Alexia's feet, at the side of Hunk, Alfred brought a strong muscular arm up to his lips and bit deep his eyelids fluttering with delight as he tasted the warm and thick fluid. Hunk's other hand lifted with some difficulty and traced Alfred's face before dropping down again with lack of strength.

"M'sorry Al…fred. Didn' mean…t'…mess up…your…face. Am I forgiven? Old…friend?"

Hunk's mortal body died and Alfred pulled away, both siblings standing as the agony wracking the agent's body made him thrash and scream out wordlessly.

Alfred felt his lifeless heart wrench and he eased himself downwards slowly, lying with deliberate force on Hunk's rapidly rising and falling chest, before realising that the man was dead. After the body died…after Hunk, Mr Death, and James Cooper died…then cold hands ran through his hair gently, and he found himself safe and secure in James's dead arms.

"James." Alfred breathed, feeling Alexia under Hunk, and Hunk under himself.

Alexia smiled as Hunk smiled and slowly as the sun began to rise, and the rain began to clear from Rockfort Island, all that was left behind to show any sign of vampire activity…was the corpse of the maid drained dry by three different sets of fangs.

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Ashford2ashford: Yes, yet again another story is finished. I hope you enjoy it! I took my time with this one! See y'all soon! If you have a story that you want me to finish, just let me know! Bye!