Pete closed his eyes so as to not look at Stan's lifeless body and whispered. "Is there… somewhere quiet I can go? M-My head really hurts…"
By time he opened his eyes, Vladimir had crossed over to where the final victim was being held, and begun to idly braid her dirty brown hair out of sheer boredom. "Wait until after the ceremony. We have one more to go. Unless something stupid happens, it should only take fifteen more minutes at the most, once Lord Vampir returns."
Pete could only nod in response, almost having totally forgotten about Mike's preferred surname, and turns his back toward Stan's corpse - knowing that he'd have a break down if he dared looked at it once more.
Minutes passed in silence, and the Goth just spends it starting at a blood-stained wall. The silence remained until a small stirring was heard from Vladimir's direction.
Pete then turned toward the last victim, and to his greatest displeasure, Karen was waking up. He watched as her brown eyes slowly began fluttering open, and once her vision adjusted, a look of surprise comes across her face.
"Ken...w-what's going on?" Karen asked; her voice barely above a whisper.
Before anything else could be done, her wide brown eyes suddenly catch glimpse of Kyle and Stan's dead, blood-stained bodies. Her face paled in fear, and it was obvious a shriek of terror was soon going to follow. Of course, before the scream even left her lips, Vladimir quickly shoved his hand against her mouth - muffling any sound she dared try to make.
"If you scream, I swear I'll personally cut out your tongue." The older threatened. This instantly causes Karen to clam up in fear, and Vladimir give a satisfied smirk. "Smart girl. Now, keep it like that until your execution if you don't want a premature murder." With that, the paler of the two then takes his hand away from the others mouth before goes back to braiding her dirty-brown hair, and the little girl who the hair was attached to just sobbed in silence.
The scene was almost sickening for the goth to watch.
Pete fell a sensation deep within his gut that told him to act. He felt anxious - even more so than usual. His rage was now even more justified than before. He felt as though he had a righteous cause this time - not that he never lacked it. There was something especially evil going on even for the vampires. Mysterion wasn't coming. Pete gave up hope on him. He knew deep down that he was going to have to be the one to do something about these twisted bunch of murderers. There wasn't just the desire to do so. He knew he would now, though. There was a fraternal instinct to it.
Because, in that moment, Pete no longer saw Karen as Karen...he saw her as Firkle.
The taller suddenly felt his rage turn into drive as Vladimir casually kept braiding the softly sobbing girls hair, and decided to run over to the scene and pry the older away from her; consequences be damned. Of course, after he took a few measly step in their direction; Pete felt a hand place itself on his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.
"I suggest you contain yourself, Pete, lest you let your emotions get the better of you." Mike muttered from behind him in a cold, commanding tone.
Shit. Pete hissed, within the safe confines of his mind.
"Ah, Lord Vampir. Welcome back." Vladimir greeted his dark master; letting the strand of the young girls hair he had been braiding fall out of his hand. "You'll be happy to know I made Pete carry out the task he was assigned in your absence."
"I can see that." Mike commented blandly; giving a short glance to Stan's corpse. "I suppose all there's left to do now is kill the girl, assign body disposal duty, and we can go."
Karen whimpered in fear at this comment, and Pete closed his eyes once more.
How'd things come to this? Pete asked mentally. All this cruelty...this hatred. How could I have honestly believed some superhero would just swoop in, and save the day? Why do I keep clinging to fleeting rays of hope? Why…
"Pete." Mike suddenly said; bringing the other out of his thoughts.
The Goth then snapped himself back into reality, and found that the vampire leader was right in front of him. The taller held the bloodied syringe and tubing out for the shorter to take, and a malicious grin dominated his features.
"I want you to take care of this one as well."
Pete felt as if his heart dropped into his stomach. "...what?"
"I said want you to kill this brat off." Mike hissed; clearly annoyed with having to repeat himself. "I feel you're getting a little too comfortable around here. You don't do much to support the society. Pull your weight, and kill the girl so we can head home."
Karen had a look of terror in her eyes that matched the look Firkle had when he was in her situation. She couldn't be that much older than he was when he was slain. Pete looked at the blade in his hand and felt a certain responsibility take hold of him. It was taking the form of rage as potent as hellfire.
"...Mike… you can't make me do this.''
The icy look the vampleader sent the goth was so intense Pete would've sworn it was a look that could've frozen hell over twice. "Excuse me? Did you just refuse to carry out my order?"
"YEAH, MIKE. I FUCKING DID! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH. I AM NOT DOING ANY OF THIS BULLSHIT ANYMORE." He took a breath and balled his fists. His voice got low as he muttered, "I'm going to stop you for the sake of everyone."
Mike glared at Pete with a dangerous glower, eyes full of rage. Rather than heated, his was icy cold, almost soul-piercingly so. The other vampires in the room stopped what they were doing to watch the now inevitable death match.
"Vladimir… Remove Karen from the grounds, but don't let her escape. I've decided we have another target tonight. A traitor."
"Yes, m'lord."
The kid was quickly injected with a round of anesthetic, and once she was asleep, was removed from her confinements by Vladimir before he stepped outside with the young child's skinny form in his arms. When she was finally gone, Mike paced towards Pete and grabbed him by the throat. He threw the Goth to the ground, drawing Firkle's blade and pointing it at him. "You do not betray me! I spared your worthless life, you ungrateful bitch! I'll make you suffer greatly for your treason!"
Pete stood up, unshaken. "No! Enough is fucking enough, Mike!" He took the nearby "wine" bottle and broke it on the floor, using the neck of it as a handle. "I am tired of the death. I am tired of the guilt! I am tired of being your BITCH! And I'm not standing for it anymore…plus, I only agreed to this hellish life to save Michael and Henrietta! Not because I actually liked you!"
The last thing Pete said seemed to hang in the air.
The vampiric leader's expression was completely blank for a few minutes, but then his lips slowly turned themselves upward into a smirk - his mocking laughter filling the air shortly after.
"You think I didn't know that?!" Mike asks in a belittling tone. "Do you think I believed you had feelings for me?! That you magically changed your opinion of me over these few months?! No! Just because I built this whole thing on an infatuation doesn't mean I didn't get over it! Hell, Bloodrayne was my personal whipping bitch like you were at one point, but I still killed her just fine! And if I can kill a society member who I was actually friends with before this whole thing started; I'll certainly lose no sleep over ending your useless existence!"
The goth felt a panic rise in him, but before he could move a muscle in an attempt at escape, MIke had gotten face-to-face with him.
Pete gasps slightly in surprise, and jabs the broken "wine" bottle toward the other. Of course, the vampiric sociopath grabs his wrist before the bottle even made it within an inch of him, and bends the others arm harshly - causing a sickening snapping sound to echo throughout the room and a collective "Ou!" from the watching society members follows.
"AH!" Pete cries out in agony; almost certain his arm was now broken.
The vampire whispered in Pete's ear in a lone, dangerous tone that set off all kinds of warning bells in the Goth's head. "Do you know what the very best part was, Pete? It wasn't keeping you here. No. It was watching you willingly be my bitch, night after night."
Pete's own rage was stoked by this. Enough was enough, like he had said. He was going to find someway to make up for it. He was debating on somehow killing himself so Mike wouldn't get the satisfaction. It was looking appealing. It almost caused a smirk to appear upon his pale face.
Almost.
The victim stood a little straighter in the others grasp. "What the fuck do you even think you can do to me that you haven't already before, huh? You've beat me, mentally, physically and emotionally. Whatever I endure won't be anything by comparison. Even all that pales to the abuse I put myself through for allowing it to go on for so long! Bring it on, bastard. The sooner the fucking better."
A long silence followed the comment, and all observing eyes seemed to be on Mike; anxiously awaiting for his reply.
"You know what Pete...I'm not even going to drain you of your blood." Mike murmured as if the other hadn't even said a word; the twisted wheels in his head clearly turning. "I'm going to watch in satisfaction as you die helplessly in my grasp, and then when you're dead and gone...I'll round up your two remaining 'friends', and murder them in the most brutish, creative way I can think of. But who knows; it all depends on the mood I'm in when I have them dragged here. I may force both of them to be my personal servants, or maybe just give one of them a lobotomy and keep them as a brain-dead pet while the other rots in chains."
The goth only became more enraged at the others comment.
He hated the thought of Michael and Henrietta being at the mercy of Mike, and he would've told the other off, but unfortunately, the others pale hands gripped tightly around his windpipe cut off any noise the other tried to make.
Pete soon became lightheaded due to lack of oxygen, and he was almost positive that, in just mere minutes, he would be choked to death.
That is...until a voice suddenly cut through the silence.
"M'Lord! I have something of the utmost importance to report to you!" A random vampiric lackie suddenly called as they suddenly burst into the room.
Mike barely even acknowledge the others presence; not letting his grip loosen on Pete's throat. "This better be good Fang, because if not, I'm killing you after this traitor."
"I-It is!" Fang reassured; his voice showing how shaken he was by the head vampires threat, and the sheer surprise of the scene before him. "T-There was this kid sneaking around outside, a-and we saw he was trying to break in here through the roof. So we captured him, and brought him in here since you'd most likely want to have a say in how we disposed of him"
Thankfully for the goth, this caused Mike's grip to give-way just enough for him to get a steady stream of air into his lungs, but something much larger was taking place at the moment for him to really process it.
Pete had a sinking feeling in his stomach he knew who the prisoner was, and when he craned his head to look past Mike, his suspicions were confirmed.
Mysterion.