First Feed

"You are an abomination! Fuck yourself to hell vampire, I will not take a life!"

Aro and Eleazar exchanged shocked expressions, both containing their laughter, for to release it would do them no good at present; how they wished they could say such a thing to Basileus! Not that they didn't love and respect him, of course, they certainly did, but many adults regress a little around their parents - vampiric adults were no different. They wouldn't dare though. Not then at any rate. They had attempted similar verbal attacks in their history with Basileus but all attempts had ended sorely, literally for them.

Basileus crouched low and rested easily on his knees in front of the new vampire whilst Carlisle snapped at the air around him, warning the predator away. Basileus had grown tired of his new son's protestations already and grabbed the boy's throat with his strong left hand. Though he ground out his following rebuke with as much restraint as he could muster, anger dripped from each word.

"Listen hard and listen good boy, you will do well to watch your tongue in my presence, I gave you this immortal life, and I can just as easily take it away. If I tell you to feed, you will feed. Respect me or you will feel my wrath!" As he spoke he tapped along, (and not lightly!) to each syllable with his right hand on Carlisle's cheek.

"Bring the food!"

Basileus threw the order over his shoulder to his sons who easily retrieved and delivered the thrashing girls to their father. Without breaking eye contact with Carlisle, Basileus took the smaller one from Aro, bringing her wrist to his mouth he sucked the blood from her body and the girl collapsed to the floor. Aro threw her towards the growing pile of bodies. Taking the remaining girl from Eleazar, the tallest and plumpest of the original four, Basileus brought the young woman down to the ground and placed her between himself and Carlisle. With Aro and Eleazar now flanking his sides, Carlisle was trapped.

"Drink!" Basileus demanded, eyeing the young vampire sternly.

Now Carlisle wasn't stupid, he felt how strong this man was as he grabbed his face, and slapped his cheek. And the other two with him obey his every word. He could sense this wasn't the sort of man you wanted to piss off, but he still had no intention of killing the poor woman!

God my throat burns! Why am I craving this girl! She's no one to me, why do I feel these urges towards her, was the pastor right? Having sex with Rebecca had cost me my soul! Why not with any of the others! Why her? I need to get away from these people, I can't stand the smell of the sweet, sweet blood any longer, the scent of her blood, so alluring, NO!

"Get away from me, you monsters, get away, you cannot make me take her!" Carlisle roared his words, but he was trapped and knew it.

Disappointed in his new charge, Basileus ran a well-manicured nail across the woman's throat. The scratchers and bruising by her own hands were visible too.

All that blood. NO! Carlisle's thoughts bounced back and forth between outrage and desire.

"This will be your last chance Carlisle, take her now and make me proud, or I will feed you… make no mistake, you will not like it if I feed you."

Basileus spoke nonchalantly, as though bored with the altercation. He was anything but bored, he wanted to feed his newborn so they could move past this fretful initial stage. Of course the whole first year with a newborn was one long headache, but after the boy had got through his first feed, his transformation would be secure and they could start to hash things out, vampire to vampire, well, demi-god to vampire.

Carlisle felt threatened. He pressed himself into the wall and felt movement in the stone work. Can I really break through buildings now? Hmm… Pressing harder and harder the wall moved!

"Ah, ah, ah, little brother, you are stuck with us for the next year at least, and we won't be running across the country side to retrieve you when you break through the building!"

Eleazar, Carlisle thought, looking up to the man who spoke. I'm sure that's what they called him. I liked him a moment ago, he was helpful, I felt like he was grounding me with his talk earlier. Maybe 'like' is too strong of a word. He was the most agreeable of the three, certainly. Now he's prevented my release, now he's a cunt.

Basileus ripped Carlisle from Eleazar's hands and forced him to the ground. Carlisle couldn't understand it. His new found strength had been a worthy challenge with the other two. Why is this one so much stronger?

"You are a fool Eleazar!" Basileus gestured to his new youngest as he spoke with his eldest, "You mistook self-control for sheer stubbornness!"

Basileus chuckled and his two sons joined in. Carlisle felt humiliated. This emotion stirred up more memories for him, more human memories. As he struggled beneath this monster he felt his mind drifting back, not too far, recent events, back to the day the town folk burned Rebecca…

"You watch you little brat, you watch your darling whore burn!"

Carlisle's face was pressed into the dirt, and his father's words coursed through his heart. Rebecca's screams for mercy were dying out, she was nearly gone, her torment nearly over.

I will not be so lucky, Carlisle said to himself, wishing he could join the girl and bring an end to his daily suffering. I am so sorry Rebecca.

Being dragged to his feet by his father's hench men, all fight long dispelled having watched his friend burn, no... having been the reason for her death. Carlisle was emotionally spent. Barely capable of babbling as the two men did the pastors bidding and threw him into the back of the horse cart. He lay there in shock and horror at what he had witnessed. And he knew the night's injustices were far from over. His father had promised to whip the sin right out of him, and another hiding on top for bringing shame to their door.

He heard the pastors saying his prayers over the cremated remains of his lover. He heard the town folk thank him for removing another sinful being from their community. He heard the same moronic simpletons offer the man strength to 'do what must be done' with his own son in order to redeem his soul from the hateful little witch.

Meeting over, the pastor packed his belongings into his satchel and threw it into the back of the cart as he climbed up into his seat to ready his horse. Having not expected the need to defend himself from flying book bags, the satchel caught Carlisle off guard and split his lip clean open. He hissed at the sting, and then laughed. That will be the gentlest touch I receive from the good pastors tonight, he figured. The cart quickly rattled into life as Samuel directed his steed in the way of their home. It wouldn't take long, and then the pastor would deal with his errant boy!

Basileus sat on Carlisle's back; he was flat out on the floor. Puling the boy's head back to stretch his neck, Eleazar brought the now dying girl and placed her under Carlisle's mouth. Refusing to open up like a good little boy, Basileus forced him with one hand cupping his forehead and the other his jaw as he prised them apart.

Carlisle's growling must have been heard in the village by now? Eleazar was growing nervous. This isn't supposed to happen, and newborns should want to feed for fuck sake!

Basileus brought his new son's mouth down to the pulsating throat of his meal. Blood pricked at the surface from the light slit he'd made with his nail earlier. Basileus pressed down, hard and Carlisle's tongue flickered over the blood.

At once, it was as though two warring factions had taken over his mind - the vampiric Carlisle longed for the sweet nourishing blood that would sate the damn burning and bring him temporary relief. But there was also the remnants of the human Carlisle, he wanted nothing to do with bringing this woman's demise - he didn't want her blood, he didn't want to feed, he would rather die than a live a life that required such destruction.

Carlisle resisted the pressure building on the back of his head with all his worth. His tongue was so far recoiled in his mouth he was choking on it! The pressure grew and grew, Carlisle could hear the fragile human body crushing into his face.

"DRINK DAMN IT!"

Basileus jumped back off Carlisle as the words erupted from his mouth. Carlisle took the chance to remove himself from the neck of the dead woman… he had killed her. He hadn't bit her, nor sucked at any blood. His marble hard face had crushed her windpipe and she'd suffocated.

Aro looked almost as angry as his father. He stalked over to the woman and checked her pulse, just to be sure. Yes, she was dead. Her threw her body over to the others, a little more forcefully this time and Carlisle watched as the wretched waifs head split in two and blood splattered across the stone floor. He didn't dare more. Only slightly raised from the flat out position Basileus had left him in. He turned away, unable to look at the blood. Whilst he glared daggers at the fragile stonework, Carlisle caught a familiar sound in the air... leather being pulled through loops… he knew that sound!

"You want to play boy, okay, we can play." Basileus spoke quietly but his words sent visible shivers through his older sons. "Fetch another one," he barked at his sons, who flashed immediately out of the room as the first resounding crack punctuated the evening air. Carlisle's howl from the strike filled the room and the newborn vampire's thoughts quickly turned to a raw human memory…

Arriving at their homestead Carlisle leapt out of the cart and stilled his father's horse. After unbuckling old Jethro from the cart he led the trusty steed towards the barn. He didn't turn around, but he knew his father was following close behind. In the mere minutes it had taken to settle Jethro in his stable Samuel had closed the gap between himself and the barn, and stood silhouetted in the door way, looking every bit the formidable father ready to deal with his boy, whip in hand.

Carlisle walked to the left side of the barn where the hay stacks lay. He had every intention of submitting to his father's punishment, truly he did. Not because he felt it in any way deserved, but because he knew how resistance played out… it rarely, no, it never worked in his favour. Carlisle was saving hard with every penny he could hide to have enough to leave his hellish life. He knew he didn't have enough yet, but right then, he would have risked it. Seeing that horse whip dangling dangerously in his father hand… yeah, he would risk it.

Turning to face the pastor, he slowly backed up to the dreaded bales as he spoke, "Father, please, can we not discuss this? If you would only listen to me, allow me to explain…"

His voice trembled and trailed off, the anger in his father's eyes appeared to be reaching new levels. Was his voice always so whiney? He couldn't help the hitching when he spoke - Carlisle was afraid. It tore him inside to admit that, but it was the truth no less. The pastor had always been a stern, unforgiving father, but something in those furious eyes told him this was going to be different.

Carlisle silently turned to the hay stacks and leaned himself across. He hadn't removed any clothing as he hadn't been instructed to. This is a bad sign, he thought. The only reason he would allow me to retain my clothing is if he believed they offered no protection!

The swoosh of the whip being pulled back through the air caught Carlisle's attention and he braced himself, the whistle as the whip was brought forward sounded so innocent, and then the crack, the dreaded crack, as the whip landed across Carlisle's back and bit into his soft, unsuspecting flesh.

Despite his best efforts a piercing scream escaped Carlisle's mouth. The pastor was already furious with his son's reckless stupidity and now the ungrateful brat couldn't take a hiding like a man! The annoyance fuelled Samuels swinging arm, willing each strike to be more severe than the last.

And so the night drew on… the pastor tired and finally gave in, discarding the whip as he walked away from his battered, bleeding, and well punished son. Samuel was pleased with himself, sure that he had rid his son of the evils that whore tried to inflict on his boy.

Carlisle had blacked out in pain a few times, not that his father noticed, but he came around soon after the man ended his assault. He dare not move, though. Not until he was sure he was alone. When he heard the barn door swing close, extinguishing the little light it had allowed, Carlisle deemed movement a safe activity. His body burned. Even slight movement brought an intensity of pain strong enough to force him to vomit. His clothes were no more than rags. Kicking off what little remained on his body, he made his way over to Jethro's stable.

A large tin bath served as Jethro's water butt. I need to share this with you tonight old friend, Carlisle thought to the trusty horse. As gently as he could manage, Carlisle lowered his body into the cool water. The welcomed relief was instantaneous. A loud hiss emitted from the pastor's boy's pursed lips as his backside hit the bottom of the tub. Using his arms on the sides of the tin tubs to help him, he managed to hold an almost floating position.

His exhaustion must have taken over, as the next thing he knew, Carlisle was being woken by Jethro's nudging muzzle. It was still dark out from what he could make out between the cracks surrounding the ill-fitting barn door. Stealing himself for the verbal barrage of abuse that would greet him if his father were still awake, Carlisle rose out of the horse tub. I'll change your water in the morning old friend, thank you for your hospitality. Carlisle fake-doffed his cape to the aging stallion as he gingerly, and dripping, left the barn.

Basileus held Carlisle by his left bicep and rained down strikes with his thick leather belt whilst delivering an equally forceful tongue lashing; something Carlisle would later learn Aro had affectionately termed 'a round of fucks'.

The pain!

Carlisle had recall of a belting, far too much recall as it happened. But being lectured in this way was new on him. Basileus sounded as though he cared about him… it was difficult to concentrate on his words when the bastard was setting his body to flames again with the unrelenting strokes, but the ones he did catch seemed odd in the circumstances.

So what if he didn't feed he would die… why would he care? Why couldn't he stand by and lose him? What was this great plan he had for him?

So, if I don't feed, I'll die, Carlisle thought to himself. So what? Why would you care about that? Why would you care if you 'lost' me? Carlisle stopped thinking just long enough to release anther pained wail before his thoughts took over once more. You've only just met me! I've known people my whole life who wouldn't care if they never set eyes on me again... why do you care?

Carlisle couldn't take any more. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, please just stop!" He repeated his apologies over and over, he begged for mercy repeatedly, though in all honesty he still wasn't sure why any of this was happening.

He understood what he needed to for the moment, though. The freakishly big guy is in charge, Carlisle told himself. Do as you are fucking told!

"Will you feed?" Basileus didn't miss a strike as he asked his question, Carlisle's grunts were replying to those strikes, not to his words, "WILL YOU FEED?"

A round of impossible harsh strikes followed, "YES" came Carlisle's wailing reply.

With that, Basileus dropped his youngest son to the floor.

Aro returned, dragging a young man into the room, and Eleazar followed with another, slightly smaller and definitely more skittish.

"Do so then!" Basileus held Carlisle's shocked gaze and pointed at the humans. "Feed now or we can start over again" Basileus swung his belt threateningly out towards his new son.

Carlisle got to his feet, his ass burned like it had been set on fire, his legs too. The burning from his first intense vampric punishment was only surpassed by the burning in his throat.

He made his way to the humans the brothers held out before him. Taking a wrist from Eleazar's offering, he turned to face away from the pleas for mercy and frantic eyes of the man he was about to kill. Bringing the hand up to his mouth he could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

Carlisle was weak, he felt truly battered and broken. His thoughts were so confused and frustrated, the only thing he knew for sure was that he could resist no longer. Sinking his teeth deep into the pulsating wrist he sucked at the liquid hidden inside. Allowing his vampric senses to overtake his human nature, hungrily he bit in for more, more, more until the arm dropped away from the drained man and Carlisle licked greedily at the severed human hand until it disintegrated by the force of his feeding.

Aro cackled at the display. "Not to worry little brother, I have another one for you," he said, thrusting his human offering forward. "Go for the neck," he suggested. "It's not so easy to chew through."

Carlisle snatched the feed from Aro, taking no notice of the human's plight; he didn't hear his begging or notice the smell of the doomed man who had pissed himself in terror. Carlisle looked into those petrified human eyes and felt nothing but thirst. More laughter filled the night air as Carlisle dropped to his knees with the dying human whose throat, ripped wide open, was all but a few droplets dry of blood.

Carlisle looked up at Basileus with blood dripping from his chin and covering his chest. With the boy's eyes glowing ruby red, Basileus was sure his full transformation was complete. He offered a hand to his youngest to help him stand.

"Come son, it's time for us to take our leave, we have much to discuss on our way home."

Carlisle took his father's hand and rose to stand with him.

Aro and Eleazar made short work of igniting the old castle keep to hide the blood drained bodies and any evidence of a vampire having visited. The night was still dark, though soon the sun would rise and they would be confined to the woodland to disguise their passage through the land. Until that time, they could move freely. Basileus lead his three sons out of the castle grounds and they walked at a human pace along the deserted village lane as they headed for the coast.