Book Dragon: "Many thanks to Scott, Sirus183, Blackpanzer, Lord Makura! As to Scott's question: yes, but not until much later. I wrote this all out ahead of time and don't post anything until I'm sure it's finished. Now, I'm just editing and posting, erm, please be patient…"
Chapter 3
The next five days were hell on earth.
Lorian could not sleep at night. Everything just started to deteriorate after the first day. She started to lag behind in school work and Gab was beating her up in fencing. Mr. Howl was screaming at her. Everyone seemed to be screaming at her. Everything wasn't as clear as it use to be, despite drinking as much coffee as she could get her hands on. Each night proved fruitless because he didn't return, even now when she had sharpened a stick from outside and had stolen a garlic powder shaker off the spice rack in the kitchen.
Gab kept torturing her, but she some how retained her silence. It took him two days to realize she wasn't going to tell him. It was a relief when he stopped trying. On the third day Mr. Howl got so fed up with her nodding off in class that he sent her out of the room and told her not to come back until she was going to get serious about the work. So she wandered down the hall, found the outside world, and fell asleep in the grass for three blissful hours until the gardener found her with a puzzled look on his face.
Yelling, yelling, and more yelling. Then it was asking what the hell the matter with her was, was she sick? That seemed to be worse than the yelling because they decided inviting a bunch of doctors to look at her and retake her temperature over and over again was going to solve it. Not that it did. Luckily, her parents refused to call a psychologist. That was just dandy with her.
The only place she could really escape was shooting practice. The gun fire kept her awake and no one could hold displeased conversations with her at the same time. It was bliss. That's where she was on the fifth night, aware she was standing on her last legs and at some point would have to fall asleep, fall asleep or die of exhaustion. Could a person die of exhaustion?
She lost track of time, no clock or windows in the shooting gallery at all, just walls of cement and paper targets to shoot at. She spent more than five hours there in some sort of limbo, her thoughts just swirling around in her head, an unintelligible muttering sea that never did shut up.
One minute the gun was pointed at paper, and then the next minute she turned around and aiming it at his chest. Even through the ear muffs, she could hear his boots hit the floor and woke a little more to it. Aware of how the gun was shaking a bit in her hands and her arms just wanted to sag.
"A P27. Does it fire silver bullets?" He asked.
But something was clearly wrong with him. Lorian looked past the barrel of her gun, past his chest, and up at his face. His hair was wilder and less neat. He was grinning, but only a little bit, and was he swaying ever so slightly on his feet? She stared at him, confused yet curious. Maybe that's why the gun barrel lowered a fraction of an inch.
"N-no."
"Well, you at least tried to come well armed otherwise." He said while nodding towards the stick she kept hidden under her left pant-leg and the garlic shaker in her right pocket.
"The stick isn't much of a stake (it would break if you tried to hammer it) and the garlic is completely useless." He added.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked and surprised herself by doing so.
The smile on his face did vanish, completely, for a full ten seconds. The glasses slid down the bridge of his nose (she wondered if they had a habit of doing that) and he just stared at her with blood red eyes that were completely unreadable, but they were almost wild. It was like looking into the eyes of a snarling wolf, jaws open and ready to tare out throats.
Then he smirked a little.
"We're both on our last legs." He replied.
Lori lowered the gun, a look of incredulous shock on her face.
"You haven't been feeding." She said.
He didn't move. Didn't so much as twitch in protest to her statement. He just kept standing there, smiling that haunting and deadly smirk, swaying just a bit in his clothes.
"Yes." He agreed, but said no more.
"Why?"
"No one has given me permission." Lori stared at him.
There was a billon questions suddenly swirling through her mind like a torrent. It made the gun in her hands slump a little and for her straight posture to show her own weakness and begin to slouch.
It was also weird to find some part of her was still calculating as well, despite the crushing fatigue. What was more dangerous than a hungry vampire? Not many things at all. It was worse than having a gun pointed at you. You could at least control firing a gun by removing your finger from the trigger, but basic animal hunger? No one could control themselves when they were starving to death.
Permission or no permission from strange masters.
"How long have you gone with out…?" She gestured.
"A few days. You offered me your blood." Lori shivered.
She hadn't really. Standing there, she was aware the there had been blood on her fingers that night as she had tried to touch his face. He'd simply taken advantage of her. A bit like he was doing now. Why the hell did he feel torturing her was so much fun?
"But that wasn't enough?" She asked, deciding to discard those thoughts.
"No."
"How long since you've gone without a proper meal?" And she winced at the word 'meal'.
He stood for a few silent moments. When he took one step forward, the gun bobbed back up and pointed at his head, ready to fire. She hadn't known how skittish she was. There was something deadly and thick in the air that wasn't helping her stay calm.
"Thirty years."
Lori couldn't help but gawk at him. That was completely insane! She couldn't imagine going thirty years without something to eat. After a week a human being was suppose to die. It was disturbing to find a vampire could still stand after that amount of time. More disturbing because she could see he was starting to loose control of it. His eyes were staring a little too much.
But what could she do? She tried killing him. Again, and again. It was impossible, as she was right now. How long would it take him finally stop playing and succumb to that hunger? Couldn't be too long. Someone would die to his fangs if something wasn't done. Several people even, maybe.
Why not her? Right now?
"H-how much would you n-need to s-sustain-"
"A pint." He replied, the smile vanishing from his lips again.
He looked at her curiously. He didn't ask her anything though. Lori was figuring it all out, taking the steps in her head with cold logic while beneath her more human childish side was squirming with terror. If she could just keep breathing regularly, she was sure she could do it…
"I'll be back." She told him, edging around the wall, gun still pointed at him.
Lori looked at the door behind her, to make sure it was still there, and looked back at him. He hadn't moved. He was just looking at her, not saying a word. When her back touched the door, she kicked it open, slowly, and shuffled out.
He just stood there as the door banged shut.
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Minutes later Lori was running down the halls again, sprinting as fast as she could without waking anyone up. It had gotten very late. Still, she found the room she was looking for. The door with the Red Cross painted on it wasn't locked. It was a nice surprise for her. She thought she was going to have to shoot the lock off or worse, sneak into her father's room for the key. The door opened readily enough under her quivering fingers and she entered without bothering to turn the light on.
It was full moon now, so she could see well enough. It could've passed as a walk in closet. She didn't mind cramped places, so she looked over the walls quickly enough. Found the cooler in the wall and opened it. The childish and squeamish side of her demanded it.
Nope, nothing.
Blood went bad too quickly, even if you did refrigerate it incase of an emergency (what kind of emergency her parents guarded against Lorian could never quite imagine). There was no use in buying and keeping blood for a few months and throwing it away. If it even was a few months, Lori really didn't know.
Lorian didn't bother to sigh. She shut the cooler doors and flickered her eyes around the place, looking for the next best thing. There was everything a hospital would carry in one of their utility closest. Bandages, antiseptics, medical tape… She passed over all of them, shaking her head, when finally her eyes froze on a little white box.
Needles.
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Lori found herself in the kitchen a few minutes later. Part of her refused to even understand what she was doing. Using her teeth and her fingers, she tied the weird rubber tube around her arm and pumped it, clenching her hand and unclenching it, looking for the vein to pop out. They'd taught her how to do this once. She could remember wanting to pass out and being scolded about it. Not that, at the age of seven, did she ever see a need to know how to draw her own blood.
The needle went in easier than she expected. It was a pin-prick of pain, and she immediately started shaking afterwards. She bit her lip and made herself calm down enough so she could draw it out. It was slow. The dark red that filled up in the tube was thick and rich. There was no way she could allow herself to realize it was her own blood, so she thought about other things and blanked out the sight before her rational mind.
When it was full, the needle came out and she splashed it into the glass next to her. She did this several times, keeping that carefully blank look on her face and letting her thoughts swim through limbo. The glass filled up higher and higher, and she only stopped when she got light headed. The needle came out one last time and she pressed her fingers against the vein and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.
"You're going to give me your blood?"
Lorian flinched hard, turned and found him standing in the corner of the room. She hadn't even heard him enter. He stared down at the glass of blood sitting on the table over his sunglasses. Was he disgusted? He wasn't smiling. She continued to hold her arm, glancing at the gun she'd left carelessly on the counter.
"Yes. It's not like I could wake someone up and demand their blood…Or let you kill anybody. Is it not good enough for you? If I remember clearly, you weren't complaining before." She snarled.
He didn't reply. His eyes were glued to the glass. Was he ignoring her?
"Would you stop staring and drink it alread-"
He stride was sudden and powerful. Fast. He grabbed the glass and titled his head back as he chugged it down. Lorian froze, as stiff as a board and watched in horrific fascination as the red liquid swirled and disappeared, his throat working and making sure all of it slid down his throat and into his stomach. Not a drop of it was spilled. He even licked the drops off the rim of the glass before setting it down.
His appearance changed dramatically. His hair was still ruffled but now with the fierce glow his eyes had taken, he looked more like a beast than ever before. The sway was gone from his stride and he moved effortlessly. Differently. It made gooseflesh spring onto her arms. The girl crouched in the chair a little more, trying to look smaller and go unnoticed.
The movement did the opposite. He stared down at her and smiled lazily. Smugly. Grinning starting to widen a bit, those large pointed teeth all the more present. His eyes were beyond wild. It was a red flaming chaos and made the crimson storm that swirled endlessly around Jupiter look small and calm. Charged. Ready for anything. When he laughed, it was stronger. Everything about him was stronger and surging with power.
Awake.
"I'd forgotten how delicious your family's blood is" He half purred half snarled.
He grinned like a demon.
And suddenly she knew this had been a stupid idea. He had been unconquerable before, what the hell did she plan on doing now? No, worse, now he looked ready for more. To keep feeding. She watched his tongue polish over his teeth, collecting the remaining scarlet there, before grinning with satisfaction. Somehow, she repressed a shiver.
"You have no idea what you've just done…"
When he stepped towards her, she scrambled out of the chair and backed away. He stopped, but laughed blacker than any laugh before it. She was afraid. More afraid than she had been in the dark the first time they'd met. She grabbed the gun off of the counter and not only pointed it at him, but fired. Then watched the gapping hole in his head bridge back together. He just grinned wider.
"Stay back, Monster." She said, but all the will in her voice was gone.
It was too late. He was already too close and looming over her, blocking her escape. All she had was a little pistol, a lame twig that would be prone to snap, and some white dust that would do nothing except maybe make him sneeze. What the hell had she been thinking? All he had to do was grab her and sink his teeth into her neck.
"Monster? Alucard was my name last. What are your orders, Master?"
"What-?"
"Lorian?"
Lorian didn't even have to blink. The blood-craving monster was gone. She was staring at an empty space. She did blink, just to make sure the sudden transition wasn't some kind of illusion. Nope. He was really gone. Still, her body won't stop quivering and when she turned her white face towards the doorway, she found Gabriel, looking sleepy and staring at her. Or, rather, staring at the smoking gun in her hand.
And then to the bullet hole in the cabinet across the room.
"What are you doing?"
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Lorian was sent to her room for the entire day, but only after her father sat down and talked to her, one on one, for about two hours. It was a relief when he finally finished up his speech, stopped rubbing the bridge of his nose, and finally set her to her room. The bed never looked more beautiful in her entire life. She flopped down on it and slept for the whole day, straight through.
No nightmares; no dreams.
Just comfortable blackness.
And when she woke, the world was clearer and crisper, stained in moonlight. A rested mind sees a hell of a lot more than a worn one. She felt better, and could've rolled over and gone back to sleep, like a glutton, but he was back. She saw him sitting in the chair that went to her desk in the corner, legs crossed and hands curled in his lap. He looked tranquil, but it didn't stop her from bolting up right.
"Good evening." He said simply, but derisively.
Lori stared at him warily from the bed and said nothing. Minutes passed. She regarded him. He sat there and let her. She was thinking and trying to decide, shifting into the lotus position. Finally, she found the right wording and spoke slowly and cautiously, trying desperately not to stutter.
"You aren't going to bite me, are you?"
"Not unless you ask."
"What are you doing here?"
"I should ask you, you came to me." He replied.
Lorian continued to watch him carefully. If he so much as twitched the wrong way she was going to run. Maybe he knew from just looking at her because he stayed eerily still.
"It wasn't intentional-" She started.
"I know. It doesn't change the fact." He retorted. Then he did shift, very, very slowly, leaning his elbow onto the arm of the chair and held one side of his face up.
"I'm bored." He added.
He clearly looked it. Lori wasn't sure she had it in herself to be sympathetic. He'd thought scaring the hell out of her and watching her struggle for her life had been fun. Hadn't he? She thought back on it, curiously. He hadn't really done anything to actually harm her. She, on the other hand…
"And it's a beautiful night. We should go out and have some fun."
Images flashed through her head. Blood splatter. Heads lobbed off. Evil cackling. Broken jaws. The boom of gunfire. Blood covered fingers. Dust. Swirling dust. Fire. The ripping swish of torn flesh and the loud hollow crackle of breaking bone. Whine of bullets veering off walls. The feel of the gun recoiling, jerking back, hot in your hands. The twinkling belling-ring a spent cartage makes as it turns, end over end, smoking to the tile floor, before rolling in a pool of steaming blood…
Lori shook her head hard. Gritted her teeth against those thoughts, and found something appalling in the way her lips were curved up in a dazed smile. It made her shiver, and very aware of the way he was just watching her from behind those glasses with chin resting in one gloved hand.
"What if I say no?"
"Well, then I'd have to find something interesting to do here." He replied, like it should've been obvious.
Which meant wreak havoc on the place. Lorian bit her lip, thinking. She could see the blood pooling in the hallway and her father glaring down at her, asking what in the name of God she thought she was doing. Or believe she'd killed them. The first Hellsing in history to go on a crazy melee and end up in jail, for sure.
Then she thought she found the loop-hole and smiled.
"Alright. As long as you promise not to hurt anybody."
And yet she felt uneasy as he showed his teeth in a sadist grin.
"Deal."
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Book Dragon: "Comments? Again, I'm accepting flames…"
