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Part One: Roses are Red, Seduction is You

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Chapter Three: The Stage is Set, All is True

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He struggled against the chains. For all his efforts, he didn't have the strength to break free from his imprisonment anymore, and it was completely useless now. Once more he tried to shout, a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, somebody on the floor above would hear his shouts. He truly doubted that because, the music above was loud, designed to make it impossible to hear anyone but the person right next to you. That last bit of hope someone would come and take him from this horrible place, the place of nightmares.

There was a loud creak of the old door opening. He lifted his head and saw his tormentor enter the room, already dressed in full costume. Fear began to course through him as the cloaked figure approached him. He took deep, steadying breaths, any way to keep a bit of sanity. There's no way he'd break in front of this sick, twisted bastard. He couldn't, but he found it very hard when he was suddenly released from his chains and fell to the floor.

A clawed hand circled around his throat.

Hell no, he couldn't breathe right. It was painful enough to be released from restraints that had made his wrists and ankles raw, but to hit the floor with no way to lessen the impact, and then to be downright strangled before he could get some decent air was hard on anyone. He was lucky, though, because the bastard was dragging him somewhere. Hopefully, he'd be able to stay conscious before he reached the destination; but maybe he'd rather not be awake when he arrived. He doubted that he'd live to see tomorrow. Something in his mind and gut was screaming that he would be killed, probably in a very, very unusual way. If only he'd been brave enough to bite his own tongue and drown in his crimson mess, he'd never give the shit head the pleasure of killing him.

"I hope you don't mind being a crowd pleaser," the son-of-a-bitch chuckled. Up the stairs they went. Being dragged along like this was agonizing. Not only could he barely breathe, but going up each step brought an agonizing pain all over his body. The edges of the steps dragged along his spine, digging into every bump that his back offered. With no food for so long, he was beginning to become a warm, breathing skeleton. There was almost no padding along his backside and with every movement he let out a small cry of pain. The fucking, shit-headed bastard slammed his head into the wall, tired of his whining. "If you want to entertain, you must stop your moaning." The jackass grabbed his hair and dragged him by his head. The pain was horrible and he grabbed at his hair. Again, he was slammed into the wall. "If you wish to live a bit longer, I suggest you stop testing my patience." He spit. Another door was flung open, the last barrier of isolation. The sounds of music came to him, with laughter, talking, as well as other numerous sounds. "Ah, look. The show is about to begin." And damn it all, because no matter what names he called the creature, it would still kill him.

People turned to look at him. They cheered. He wanted to scream.

And he was up on the stage. The prick in the costume that would come and torture him for ridiculously long periods at night smiled out at the audience. They went wild, and everyone out on the dance floor grabbed tables and chairs. Waitresses were instantly busy, gathering drink orders, bringing out food. People came to the Red Moon Café for…different entertainment. It was the one place that promised bloody horrors and a good scream, and gave it with dazzling effects. That was the reason why he had taken his girlfriend here a week ago. He thought he'd get her horny enough to get laid, but the monster, the asshole, had seduced her and taken her away from him. She left without him that night and he went to follow her, to ask her why she was acting like a walking zombie. It was then when something from behind had grabbed him with such a horrible force that it immediately knocked him out that he now found himself in this situation. Now, here he was, ready to become part of the fucking freak show that was going to fucking kill him and all of the dumb shits in the crowd would think it was amazing special effects.

And the show was starting.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a wonderfully deep voice boomed. He saw who had made the statement, a very, very handsome gentleman with flowing black hair and dark blue eyes. There was a beautiful young woman at his side, garbed in a purple dress. For some reason, she reminded him of his now ex-girlfriend, with only the notion of a good time in her eyes. She probably would have a good time with the handsome man, because he was a fucking vampire. One look at him said it, how the whole audience was enchanted with his voice, his body…his eyes. He prayed that the young woman wouldn't fall for the seducer of the night, only to find out that falling for such a thing would result in death. "I give you what the Red Moon Café is famous for, our wonderful little show of horrors!" He smiled and there no fangs. How was that possible? How did that, that creature, that abomination of God, hide such a damning thing? "Our first act of the night is just a starter." He turned his attention to the young woman and kissed her hand, his attention all on her, but still, the crowd heard him, as if he wore a microphone. He wasn't. "And, yes, we will see horror. Things at the Red Moon Café are always so much…bloodier…"

And then the two were lost as everyone stood up and applauded. He was now the star of the show, for the first and last time.

God save him from nightmares…

But God was not around. He did not come to chase away the evils in the world, only let the people destroy themselves.

He was at the mercy of vampires, the creatures of the night.

The lights were on him.

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The stage was set and Danny was pissed. That bastard, Rosiel, was lavishing all of his attention on Sam, and while she accepted it, his psychic link with her showed that she was obviously nervous. The man Rosiel was making her uncomfortable with the slightest gestures, a pat here, a slight kiss to the cheek or the hand there, and those eyes…every time his own were caught with those midnight blue, glittering gems, he instantly felt as if he would pass out. If he tried to pair himself with Sam's feelings when she looked into his eyes, he was so overwhelmed that he had to immediately break the link, or else risk losing his lunch right then and there.

If he couldn't handle it, how could she?

She pulled away from the enchanting man, smiling uneasily. The attraction was there, but she saw enough of something beneath the surface that she knew better than to flirt with it. She had an unusually high sixth sense…and seventh, eighth, and ninth, all screaming at her something was wrong. For some reason, she knew someone's intentions, could always tell if someone was lying, knew when danger was near, and it seemed as if she could glimpse into someone's mind, as if there was a whisper that told her what they were thinking. And, when she concentrated on Rosiel, she had to protect herself, a sort of mental shielding. To do that for the first time with effort…It worried her.

"Forgive me my dear Sam, but I must be off." He kissed her hand. She suddenly felt lightheaded, as if she was struggling to fly out of her body. Something was saying to look into his eyes. Resisting it was an assault on her senses and she knew that if she looked into those deep, blue depths, the pain would be gone. Why not chance it? She looked and her breath was taken away. She was almost lost in the blue. Power flickered there and the blue ended up taking on a green glint. She dug her nails into her palm until it hurt. The pain cleared her head and she noticed that the green glint in his eyes was very, very unnatural. "But please, talk to me again before you go. I expect you to return this." There was a chain in her palm with an old locket, made from what appeared to be silver. It seemed so elegant, so enchanting. It was befitting. "Adieu."

She blinked.

Back and forth, back and forth her head went, looking into the crowd. She couldn't see him. He was gone, just like that in- forgive the cliché –the blink of an eye. Even when she reached into herself and focused, looking for an aura of any kind, she was left confused and with a headache. Danny placed a protective hand on her shoulder and she didn't know how he did it, but he gave her more energy and seemed to take the headaches and other ailments away from her body. She smiled and turned around, and he grabbed her hand, making his way through the crowd to find a good seat.

They sat down at the table and turned their attention towards the stage, thinking them prepared for whatever the show came out with. A man in a costume smiled at everyone. He wore baggy silk pants, sort of like a belly dancer's, the color starting out as red at the bottom but diffusing into orange at the top. He had a matching silk top with billowy sleeves. Golden bracelets adorned both arms and clinked with movement. He had on a mask that was some horned demon with painted flames. What he was supposed to be, they didn't know, but everyone gasped when he gave an extremely wide grin that gave them a perfect view of gleaming fangs.

He held up a man, still grinning with those fangs. The man was so skinny that most of his bones could be seen. The crowd gasped again, sickened at the man's state of health, but many were biting their lips, trying to show some amusement on their faces. After all, the act was intended to scare; maybe the man was a fake, an animatronic. This was seemed plausible when the music started, a haunting melody that was fast, the rhythm of the drums made to leave you confused. The performer dropped the man and then began to dance, his upper body swaying while his legs stayed rooted in place. Two burly men quickly ran on stage with a pole. They strung the bony man up on it and he only groaned in protest. Flames went up in the back round with a loud whoosh, making people jump in their seats. The two burly men ran off the stage and the man in costume began a more elaborate dance around the pole. His body seemed to twist in strange ways that didn't seem possible, every movement flowing like water, and every movement made to seem very, very sexual. All the women in the audience were blushing, including Sam.

A whip came to his hand, as if there had been one in his hand all along. He danced around the pole, the whip sliding along his body and suddenly…the whip flicked out and struck the bound man. A long, shallow gash appeared and blood seeped from the wound. The man let out a cry and the audience let out a cry with him. Again, the whip lashed out and again there was a wound that bled. The tempo of the music increased and with that, the lashings increased, the blood flowed more freely, and it seemed as everybody was in a trance.

The man began to cry out in pain, agony as his skin started to become one mass, bleeding wound. The blood pooled at his feet in large puddles, rolling down his body, and still the masked man went. The audience didn't mind the horror of this. Some gasped, others looked away, but they didn't demand this atrocious act be stopped. In fact, they were all being entertained, as if nothing was wrong with this.

Sam looked to Danny, only to realize he was caught up in the show, a sick fascination written on his face.

She stood up, knocking her chair down. Nobody noticed the clatter. That was wrong. Everybody's attention was fixed to the stage. What was wrong with them all? She waved a hand in front of Danny's face. He didn't blink and she felt panic rise up in her chest. Something was wrong here, and it needed to be stopped. If no one else would rise up, she would.

"Stop the show!" she screamed. The music's volume filled her ears. She could barely hear herself breath. It was so…loud…and no one could hear her. That comprehension made her ill. She paled and began to shake furiously. "That man is dying! Can't anyone see it?" She walked around the tables, screaming right in front of their faces. Still, no one heard or even noticed for that matter. "Stop!" Her shriek tore at her throat, making it raw, the feelings of hysteria pulling at her. The show couldn't go on. It just couldn't. What the hell was going on? "Rosiel! What the fuck is happening?"

The man gave out one last cry. It pierced her heart because it was the last sound that came from him. The music came to a standstill. The man's head slumped down against his chest. The only thing she could hear was the rush of her heartbeat and the dripping of blood. The man in the mask tore his costume off of his face with a flourish and gave a laugh. Power welled from him and hit her in a blast like a heat wave. The aura was that powerful…so powerful that it had taken on a physical trait.

Her heart leapt up to her throat. She was terrified. While she had dealt with supernatural oddities, this was probably the newest, strangest one yet…And she hadn't a single thought how to look at it. For once, it was an unknown to her. The fact that this man's aura was so powerful that it nearly overwhelmed her scared her even more. She had never had trouble with her psychic waves before. Control over her mind had always been a strong side. And yet…she was losing herself.

Why?

Why…?

"I see you," hissed a voice. It broke her from her fear, from the trance that had taken over her. Slowly, she lifted her head, hesitating with each motion. The man on stage had spoken directly to her. In fact, he had dropped his whip and had made his way to the end of the stage, where he stood at the beginnings of the crowd. "Girl in the purple dress…I see you…" He slid off the stage in one, fluid motion, so fast that she never had time to blink. "Did you come out to play?" She looked directly into his eyes, a dark golden color. He seemed surprised at this, as if she shouldn't have done it. "Who are you?" he inquired. She didn't answer. "Then I shall introduce myself." He gave a low, sweeping bow; shaking his shaggy, snow white hair. "I am Cadmus, part of the Red Moon Café. Did you enjoy my dance?" He came closer, stalking like a cat. "I noticed that you were running around during my show. That's very impolite." Suddenly, he was standing directly in front of her. When the fuck had that happened? "So…what is your name, girl in the purple dress?"

They stared at each other: golden sunset to glittering twilight. While he might have been cool and confident, she was anything but that. She was so nervous that beads of sweat slowly slid down the side of her face. His hand reached out and caught one. Damn it! She hadn't seen that one either. Why was she missing that? She knew that he moved. In fact, she was certain of it, her sixth sense telling her he did, but why couldn't she see it? Sensing was not enough. She was in trouble, deep, deep trouble. No, that still wasn't enough to describe it. She was in shit, deep, deep shit.

She cleared her throat. "…I do have a name…It's…Sam."

"It's such a pleasure to meet you, Samantha." She would have corrected him, if not for the strange, feral look in his eyes. He closed the preciously small difference between them. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt as if she might pass out. His smile was dazzling. "You're strong for one that seems so delicate." Her body betrayed her and gave a tremble. His face was suddenly down by her neck and he inhaled sharply. A small whining sound came out of her throat, a cross between terror and indecision. "I can almost taste the sweet blood rushing in your veins." He gave a shudder, as if he was in the throes of ecstasy. "You would make such a pretty little servant."

"No!" She emphasized her rejection with a slap. What he said had been enough to get her moving again. She stumbled back, hitting chairs, knocking over people. A few of them blinked and sleepily looked around. Cadmus turned to them and snapped his fingers. They fell asleep, tumbling to the floor. "Freak," she whispered. She had found her way back to Danny who still stared on with not a care in the world. "You're a freak! Make everyone come back!" She shook Danny, but he merely blinked. "Make him come back," she sobbed.

"But I don't want to do that." He grabbed her wrist. "If I do, that means I can't have any more fun. I want to play with you." The way he said "play" made her feel utterly sick. Her vision swam before her eyes and she staggered. He was by her again without her seeing, grabbing hold of her waist. He brushed back her raven hair, exposing the length of milky flesh that was her neck. A groan escaped her, one that indicated she could very well empty her stomach. "Such delicious smelling blood…" His tongue came out and he licked her from the base of her earlobe to the top of her collarbone. She shuddered, disgusted. "Just…one…bite…"

His fangs seemed to extend and she could feel the beginnings of them start to pierce her flesh.

Something in her mind snapped open, as if she knew what to do; she grabbed a pen from a table located conveniently next to her and she stabbed him in the cheek with all her might. He let go, howling in pain as blood seeped from around the wound. Sam swallowed the bile in her throat at the realization she injured a strange man, breaking bones, tearing skin. Well, she thought it would cause a scar, but she was wrong, very wrong. Cadmus pulled the pen out of his cheek, spitting out a tooth at the same time, and to her utmost horror, the flesh began to knit itself back together. There was no more flow of blood as the wound closed.

Fuck.

"Wench!" he snarled. "You'll pay for th—"

"Cadmus!" Rosiel's voice resonated throughout the room, a powerful force that nearly knocked Sam and Cadmus over. And then, she felt as if a liquid fire, every muscle in her body suddenly relaxing, was caressing her. Her legs gave out and she slid down to the ground. Rosiel walked through the crowd, slowly coming towards them. His face held what looked like mild annoyance, although his aura showed so much more. "You will not touch her." The whip that Cadmus wielded started snaking up his leg of its own accord, and by the look on the sick bastard's face, it wasn't supposed to do that. "I rule this place. I rule you. I will not have a lowly servant disobey me." The whip struck Cadmus along the chest, drawing a long line of blood, and Cadmus flinched in obvious pain. "You will be punished, but in the mean time…" He turned his attention to Sam. His beauty struck her speechless. "My dear, I am truly sorry for the trouble. Are you hurt?" She looked at him, terrified. "I see…I guess I have no choice." Her vision suddenly blurred. His eyes took on an unearthly, green hue. His index finger pressed lightly against her forehead. "Sleep, my beautiful maiden, sleep; and when you wake, this seems as if it all would have been a dream, a foggy, foggy dream."

The last thing she saw was deep, deep blue eyes with the haunting green tone. He was too much for her. Her mind felt like it was sliding off somewhere, maybe into the sea of sleep, and she was forced to follow it. She couldn't hold out against it, and then, she knew no more.

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"My little friend, I must leave you alone for the day." She was drowning in blue eyes and the wielder of the voice made her feel wonderfully warm. "You must see me again, to return my chain." A kiss was placed lightly on her neck where her pulse beat slow and steady. "I've missed you, Samantha Kyle Manson."

"…Sam…" That was Danny's voice. Why was Danny's voice coming to her? "Hey…"

"Please…you must let me see you."

"Hey!" Something was moving her around. How come something was disturbing her? She wanted to drown in blue forever. "Sam! Sam! Come on…"

"Adieu."

"Danny, why the hell do you always have to bug me?" Sam asked as she sat up and pushed him away. She clumsily tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes, but Danny was proving to be a troublesome foe, and he tickled her at the waist, the weak spot only he knew about. She was soon reduced to squirming about and shrieking as girlishly as possible. "Danny!" He didn't give up, merely changed from a tickle attack to pinning her down so that he straddled her waist and held her arms above her head. She gave a silly grin. "So, how long was I out for? All I remember is lying down and then I had a really weird…" She furrowed her brows, confused and concentrating. Whatever she was trying to recall, it wasn't happening. "…Dream…I could have sworn that I knew…I mean…" She sat up as he let go of her. She cradled her head in her hands. "I was at some kind of place and…there was something wrong, but I can't really remember it. I just know there was something and—" It came to her attention that there was something tangled in her right hand. She looked down at it, slowly uncurling her fingers one at a time. She felt dizzy. "What is…that?" In her hand was an elegant silver chain with an old fashioned locket attached to it.

"But please, talk to me again before you go. I expect you to return this."

He felt her forehead, testing the temperature. He held a look of concern. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Did we…Did we go anywhere and I just don't remember it?" He shook his head. She made a small sound of disbelief. "But then…how did I get this?" She held up the chain and locket. "Danny, I've never seen this before in my whole life. Why am I even holding it?"

"I don't know." He backed away a little so he could look out one of the many glass windows. "I just don't know."

"Why are you crying?" The voice came from a dark corner. Little Samantha Manson, at the age of five, looked up from her tear stained pillows. She peered into the blackness. "Dear child, may I enter?" She nodded. The one who spoke, obviously a man, glided into the room, sweet as velvet. He sat at the edge of her bed, coming into the moonlight, still managing to stay hidden in shadow. She could make out luxurious, black curling hair, and just a glint of green coming from where the eyes should be. "Would you like me to tell you a story? I have a wondrous tale about Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare. Have you ever heard of it before?" She shook her head. "How about I tell it to you?" She eagerly nodded her head. He patted the spot next to him on the bed, inviting. "Come sit next to me." She did and he pulled her closely to him, allowing her to snuggle into his lap. "Well, there were two families…"

She blinked once, twice, and looked around her. She was no longer a little girl, but a young woman, and she wasn't in a dark room, but in a nicely lit one with a young man who she adored. It was strange though, because she never looked at these memories, not once. What was stranger still was that she seemed to be living them over again. Maybe it was the house, or maybe it was something else…

"Oh Samantha, did you know you have such precious smelling blood?" He placed a light kiss over her throat. "I would wish to taste it someday, when you are older." The window to her room had suddenly opened, and a salty breeze blew through. "Come back to me soon."

Whoever it was that told her stories and comforted her when she was younger seemed to be coming back again. Maybe they were trying to reach her. She looked down at the locket and felt a small vibration throughout her body, as if it was a telling energy of what would come. Maybe they had already met her, because all she could really remember was deep, deep blue eyes and sometimes a green glint in those eyes. Maybe they wanted a taste of her now. Is that why she had offered her beach house for a week? Is that why she had been so excited to come back?

She looked down at the locket and chain once more. Once again, she felt a trembling energy course through her body. She closed her eyes for a moment and had the oddest sensation along the length of her neck, as if someone had breathed on it and gave her Goosebumps. She opened her eyes and saw that Danny was still staring out the window, lost in thought.

"I see you…Girl in the purple dress…I see you."

"The Red Moon Café," she whispered. Danny looked to her, surprised. "The Red Moon Café," she repeated. "Have you ever heard of it?" His facial expression showed that he clearly didn't follow. She looked at her bedside clock. It only read ten o' clock in the evening. The night was still quite young. "I've…I've been there before. I'm pretty sure I could find it." She looked at him, smiling. "Tucker ditched us for tonight, right?" He slowly nodded. "How about we go there?" She held up the chain and locket again. "I think the person I got this from is there, if I'm right." The energy hit her again, and she suppressed the urge not to shiver from a small amount of pleasure. "Yeah, I pretty sure I'm right."

"Well, who is it?" he asked, softly stroking her hair.

The name came out of her mouth before she could make it out. "Rosiel."

The Red Moon Café once again…once you came you could never truly escape.

I'm ready for a little fun, how about you?

Part One, End

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End Chapter

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Author's Notes: Wow, that took me a ridiculously long time. I'm very sorry about that. Life's been hectic, but I promise I won't quit on this! I love it too much not to. Anyways, that concludes part one. This story won't be that long, but it'll be good enough. As always, I'm left begging for reviews and any questions I heavily imply should be put into the form of a PM. I'll answer anything and I always reply to signed reviews, but if you can't do that, an anonymous review is good enough for me and I always express my thanks. Until Part Two and chapter four. Ciao.

-Sealeena