Blood Tears,

Chapter Seven:

Feed

Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King, but I do own Nekros. Nyah.

Faust ran from his room into the evening's dull light. Suddenly, every bit of exposed skin on his body felt as if it were on fire, and Faust almost cried out, but instead ran into the shadow of a building, taking refuge in the alleyway. He had almost forgotten about his many new weaknesses… He eyed the bits of splintered wood that littered the ground warily. At least he wasn't a full vampire yet, or else he would most definitely be dead right now. He sighed. And when would that happen? All he knew about what he was becoming were from books, little fragments of truth only.

Faust knew that the only way he would learn what he needed to know was to find the one who had made him this way. What did he say his name was? Nekros. Yes, that was it, he must find Nekros… The daylight had been slowly retreating, and only now did Faust dare to venture out from his sanctuary. He walked through the streets slowly, all at once shockingly aware of his surroundings. He could see better now than ever before, despite the black of night closing around him. He could hear the footsteps of small animals in the bushes and trees; he could hear their breathing, their swift and steady pulse…

Faust shook his head; now was not the time! But the startling clarity wouldn't fade, wouldn't let him think. He needed to get away, where could he go to calm down? A single place entered Faust's mind. The cemetery. Of course! He might even find who he was looking for there. Faust turned around and ran back the way he came, trying to ignore the sounds and sights of the night from getting to him. When he finally arrived at his destination, he wasn't even out of breath. Faust smiled, that could come in handy sometime… He slowed himself to a leisurely pace; finally his senses calmed down and subsided to their previous norm. Even without his enhanced sight, Faust could pick his way through the graves easily, occasionally running his hands along one lovingly. The dead were better company than the living, Faust decided gleefully. Much better…

But what about Ryu? A voice in his head spoke, He's one of the living... and ever so kind… Faust had almost forgotten… But he never really could, could he? Ryu was always there, not caring what the others thought, always being so nice… He would never forget.

A voice shook him from his thoughts and wiped the smile from his face. "One would do well not to wander at this time of night…"

"So you finally came… Nekros…"

"Ah, but why would I leave you? You owe this to me you know…" Nekros moved closer.

"Oh?" Faust asked, feeling Nekros' cold breath on his neck. He involuntarily tilted his head, giving Nekros better access.

"Your blood is so sweet… No one will ever be the same as you… It'll be a pity when I drain you dry… But not yet… Not yet." Nekros sank his fangs into Faust's neck, but despite their size, Faust felt nothing. Just dully noted himself getting weaker…weaker… And then, it was over. Faust stood shakily for a moment, and then collapsed to the cemetery grass, legs splayed out beneath him. "You came because you needed answers, correct? Well, I shall see to it that you get them. You must promise to meet me here at this time, on the next full moon. Three days… Promise me?"

Faust nodded weakly. He just lost so much blood… But the wound was already healed…It didn't make him feel any better though…

"Let's take care of the now, shall we?" Nekros picked Faust up and carried him from the cemetery, smiling crookedly when Faust snuggled closer, looking for warmth. But there was none. And there never would be…

As soon as his feet were free of hallowed ground, a pair of leathery bat's wings made their appearance on Nekros' back. He hissed in pain, though recovered quickly, taking to the night skies easily, though with very little grace. Faust decided that if he was ever able to fly, he would take special care not to do so that inelegantly. Flight was freedom, and freedom is beautiful, and has always been as such. But at the moment, he was too weak to care about voicing his opinion, resigning himself to the feeling of hunger gnawing at the pit of his stomach. If he had to deal with it much longer, he might just have to turn around on Nekros and get his blood back. Something in the back of his mind said that this wasn't the time yet, so he didn't follow that thought through, tempting as it was…

"We're here," Nekros whispered into Faust's ear, causing him to shiver, "The city slums and back alleyways, full of the darkest kind of people, and those wishing for death. And why should we deny them that which they so desire?" He descended just as ungracefully as before, setting Faust on his feet as he did so. Faust swayed a little, but did not fall. Nekros smiled. "You're stronger than you seem, my sweet. Wait here, and don't move."

Faust frowned, but did as he was told. He blinked. 'My sweet?'

"Of all the things…" He rolled his eyes. Faust stood there pondering this for a good five minutes or so, extremely glad that he couldn't feel the cold. And then, from the shadows, Nekros appeared. He dragged behind him a young teenage girl, blond, and wearing worn out old clothes. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was trembling like a leaf.

Nekros came to a complete stop now that he had come back to where he'd started. He set his hands almost lovingly on the girl, one lightly holding her shoulder, the other caressing the side of her neck. With a sickening crack, he had broken her neck, leaving her limp and lifeless in his still strong grasp. Nekros turned to Faust, smiling slightly at his semi-shocked expression. It didn't look like he was shocked about the fact he had just killed someone, just probably who it was. People always said to be gentle with girls… So he was. Right before he killed them. A virgin girl's blood was sweet, yet sometimes almost sickeningly so. Ah well, he was never one for sugary things anyway.

"Come, you must be starving." Nekros put as much hissing emphasis on the word as possible, his gimlet eyes staring into Faust's. He watched as Faust's eyes darkened, almost imperceptibly, for a moment, before reverting to normal, causing him to put a hesitant hand to his temples and felt his ragged breath on his cold hand, the other pulled his coat around him tighter.

"No, I can't…"

"She's already dead, you wouldn't want her death to be wasted do you?" Nekros' voice purred, getting into the doctor's subconscious.

"No…I suppose…not…" Faust's breath came in short gasps as he tried to resist the temptation, the warm blood that still lay beneath the girl's pale skin… That train of thought wasn't helping matters any. He wasn't going to… he wouldn't become a… murderer. But he already was… No, he wasn't… And he wouldn't… drink… from the girl…

Faust's eyes fluttered closed as he began to drain her corpse of it's once life sustaining blood. He couldn't believe he was doing this! But it felt so right… And with Nekros' eyes boring into him, he couldn't stop. …But did he want to? Her blood was warm… And it felt wonderful. He eventually gave up resisting, finally able to appreciate the experience fully, and became disappointed after a few moments when he realized there was nothing left in her pale body. He released his grip on her neck, letting her fall to the ground in a crumpled heap as he licked the blood off of his hands slowly, savoring the taste.

Behind him, Nekros smirked. He knew the blond would come around eventually; it had been only a matter of time. Nekros stepped forward, pressing his body up to Faust's and letting his hands trace his slight figure. At first the doctor was receptive to his advance, but he soon came back to his senses, stiffening up for a second before struggling free from his grasp, turning around and slapping the vampire across the face sharply.

"What do you think you are doing?" Faust hissed, obviously annoyed.

Nekros narrowed his eyes, annoyed as well. "You would do well not to resist me…"

"And you would do well to keep your hands off me!" Faust shouted, brushing Nekros' wandering hands off for a second time. This time however, Nekros didn't react with such good humor. He grabbed a fistful of Faust's hair, pulling back hard. He sneered at the doctor's pained, but still defiant expression. Drawing in close, feeling Faust's still warm breath ghosting along his face, Nekros spoke, his tone low and dangerous, like a live-wire about to hit water.

"You forget, I made you. You are mine. Do I need to break you? It would be such a shame to rid you of your," He licked Faust's neck, dragging his tongue along the life's blood pumping below. "…fire." He smirked, releasing his hold. Faust, without being given any warning, was unprepared for the loss of support, painful as it was. He fell to Nekros' leather-booted feet with a pained cry. Nekros smiled darkly at the sound. Such a wonderful noise… He'd have to make him do it again… Instead, he settled for crouching down low, to whisper in Faust's ear. "Remember, three days." His tone grew harsh. "Don't forget." He cut off whatever protest the blond might have made with a brutal kiss, far from chaste. Nekros stood and turned to walk away, leaving Faust lying on the alleyway ground, licking the blood from his lips smugly. He would come, he was sure of it.