SADLY, I THINK VEEZARATHECAT WAS EATEN BY LIS... POOR SCARLETT. FIRST CAT EATEN BY ARNBJORN, AND NOW SECOND EATEN BY A GIANT SPIDER? SHE DOESN'T HAVE THE BEST LUCK IN PETS, POOR KID :/ SORRY TO ALL THE SYLVIA HATERS, SHE CAN'T DIE JUST YET... IN FACT, I THINK OUR HERO HAS THE WRONG IDEA ABOUT HER. SHE'S SOMETHING OF A MAIN CHARACTER IN THE STORYLINE, ALTHOUGH SHE'LL GET HER COMEUPPANCE. AS A WARNING, THIS PART IS SLIGHTLY INCESTUOUS. AS IN SCARLETT/PHOENIX. DON'T WORRY, ONLY THIS CHAPTER, AND ONE OTHER WITH REFERENCES TO THIS CHAPTER, ARE THE ONLY ONES WITH IT, AND HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO SHE IS AND THIS IS JUST A DREAM ANYWAY :) THIS CHAPTER IS M FOR A REASON... PLAYED THE SONG SWEET SACRIFICE BY EVANESCENCE WRITING THIS :O
"So perfect..."
She danced through his dreams. The woman with heavily lidded red eyes, and long, curly blonde hair, and fangs as sharp as knives. Through a dark space, a strange, huge space full of shadows and death. Lips as red as blood, he watched as blood spilled from her mouth, and dribbled down her front. She smiled at him, the woman, with a smile as strange and evil as ever, but somehow comforting and sweet. The blood poured down her front, over the black wisps of cloud that cover her naked body. The blood is flawless, he noticed, so perfect, and as red as his costume. Dream-Phoenix crawled forwards, as the blood splashed onto the floor, and curiously placed his hand in it. He lifted his hand to his face; he could smell the nightshade emenating from everything, and his face is reflected back at him from the beauty of the glistening red liquid... Slowly, his tongue poked out of his mouth, as he licked the blood away...
"So delicious..."
Phoenix smeared the red-drink on his face, all over him, tainting himself with the bitterness of death. It's so... so FLAWLESS, as he knelt on the floor and lapped up the rest like a dog. When it was all gone, he rested at the beautiful woman's feet, curled up into a little ball, worshipping, begging for more of the stuff. He couldn't look at her, for fear that her beauty would burn him some now: such perfection could not be looked at. Was she a Goddess? A demon? A succubus? Who was this flawless creature that gave him the gift of blood? And more of the red-liquid poured down from her lips, and he caught it in his hands, and drank it, tasting the sweet blood in his mouth... Phoenix's tastebuds were on fire as, in ecstasy, he held his mouth open for the next wave of perfection. A cold, dead hand met his cheek, as more of the stuff dribbled down his throat, he felt her hand go to his lips, and he kissed it, worshipping it with his lips, licking the blood away from it...
The youth could hear her laughter, and fell to the floor at her feet as he worshipped her once more, praying for her dark gifts... Who was this creature? What was going on? It was just a dream, but...
"So beautiful..." he whispered, burying his face into the floor. He was painfully aroused by the blood and this strange vampire's beauty; he wanted this creature of the night as his own. In his dream, Sylvia didn't exist, it was only him and this strange woman, and he would worship her with all of him... Risking a look upwards, he saw the mocking smile on her lips, as she whispered words in a language he couldn't understand... Words of the night, words of something demonic and dark that he couldn't quite understand... His Goddess was speaking to him, and he couldn't understand her! Desperation flooded him as he tried to understand her words... Then, with a shriek of agony, he fell backwards onto the clouds, and felt white hot pain searing through his body, tearing him apart. He recoiled, writhing in pain, as, eyes watering in pain, he managed to look at her, her eyes staring into his very soul...
She bore down on him, pinning him to the ground with her body, a sly, evil smirk on her face. "Such a loyal pet." she whispered, as their lips met. Phoenix could do nothing but give into her, let his Goddess dominate him as they kissed, and the taste of blood, pure, amazing blood, ran from her mouth into his as they shared a bond deeper than hell itself, the sharing of blood... Kissing violently, blood running down both of their faces, they touched each other with fierceness and passion, tearing at each other, screaming out pain and agony to the Void. She moaned into his mouth, and broke away, straddling his hips to stare into his eyes with her unforgiving ones. "So heartless." she muttered. And then, out of nowhere, a dagger appeared in her hands and, as he entered her body, she stabbed it into his chest and, when he screamed, she inserted her hand into his chest and pulled out his heart...
It still beat in her hand, as she stared at the lump of flesh with a look of greed on her face. Blood poured down her hand, splattering onto him from this ghoulish image, as she smiled. As he began to black out, his blood flooding from the gaping wound on his chest, he heard her whisper, "Your heart is mine."
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Phoenix awoke in a cold sweat, breathing hard. Pressing his hand to his chest, he felt over his heart... It was still there, thank the Gods. It had just been a dream... only a dream... only a dream... No blood. No nothing. He was safe, asleep in his tent, and he would just turn over and be able to go to sleep... It was only then, thst he noticed the blood coating his hands. Heart pounding, his mouth gaped as he looked at the red liquid covering him, and retched. Bile, from the afternoon before, filled his throat, and he wanted to puke... Then, a thought came to him that made his blood freeze. Who's blood was it? Then, feeling sick, he shut his eyes, and turned towards the bedrolls that contained Thorn and Mercury...
Or rather, the mutilated remains of Thorn and Mercury.
And then, uncontrollably, Phoenix choked. No! No, no, no!
Blood coated his friends, and looks of terror were on their faces, lips parted in silent screams, eyes wide... Guts spilled all over the tent, blood everywhere... And, in his hand, a dagger covered in blood and innards and flesh. A feeling of dread entered him... What had he done? His friends... no... A blind rage filled him: he'd been possessed! No! It couldn't have been him who killed them; they were his friends! Snatching up the dagger, he ran out of the tent, and looked around wildly: nobody was there. Someone had come in and murdered them, it couldn't have been him who did it! There was no way, it was impossible, his friends... Then, he fell to his knees, and took the dagger in both hands, staring at it in shock and horror as the realisation hit him. He had killed Thorn and Mercury, with this dagger. He had killed them so mercilessly, the friends who trusted him... Oh Gods, oh Mara, oh Akatosh, oh... He had to run! To get away! He was a murderer! A murderer!
With a half scream, he ran, blood coating him. What was going on? What had he done? He wanted to fall to the floor and scream, cry out his madness, but... He couldn't stay here. He'd be called a murderer, caught, executed... Blindly, he ran, running towards the horses, tied up in the stables. He threw himself onto one and, kicking his heels into it's sides, he rode crazily into the night, screaming curses to the heavens, and ignoring the screams of fear people made as he passed them by... A bloodstained, crazy murderer, a killer...
A heartless killer.
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The youth awoke by a river. With a moan, he opened his eyes, staring around blearily. With a groan, he rubbed his aching skull. He felt like Ysgramor himself had been hammering away at his head, such was the pounding in him. His whole body hurt: from the tips of his thick eyelashes, to the ends of his sharp toenails. Looking down at his body, he saw he was still covered in blood and, for a moment, thought he had hurt himself, and his heart speeded up as he searched frantically for a wound... Then he remembered and, with a weak moan, fell backwards, hitting his head on the river bank. Resting for a second, he tried to block the terrible memories from his mind... Finally, after many minutes, he sat up, and rubbed his eyes blearily. He wanted to mourn his friends, to be miserable, but first he had to work out where he was... And who he was with. Tottering towards the river, he dipped both hands into the water, and splashed the cool liquid on his face. Then, taking in a deep breath, Phoenix pushed his head under the water, and, scrubbing with his hands, began to get rid of the dried blood. After doing that, he stripped entirely, although he had been almost naked before, apart from his underclothes. Submerging himself under the water, he tipped his head back in bliss, and banished all thoughts of murder and blood from his mind. He wouldn't think about that for a while.
After a few minutes of luxuriating in the water, and dunking his head under a few more times, he found himself fully awake. The cool air was starting to get to Phoenix; he climbed out, and pulled his pants back on, feeling a little self concious. It was only then, that he heard the humming over to his right. His heart began to pump against his chest as, whipping around, eyes wide, the youth saw a girl a few years younger than him sitting on a stump, spit-roasting some sort of creature over a fire. A rush of fear flew through him, quickly replaced with confusion. What was a girl who only looked about eleven doing out in the wilderness, on her own? And how had she managed to carry him, a 14 year old boy? Or had she just found him?
"Hey...?" he said, and his voice came out higher than he would have liked. Some worry was left in him, as he coughed, and his voice returned to it's usual alto. "Hey?" she didn't turn around. Becoming slightly irritated, he walked forwards, not bothering to cover himself up; he was used to displaying his nearly naked body to people. Phoenix didn't really know what to do: how could he get her attention while not seeming rude? The first idea that came into his head, dancing around in front of her, seemed both insane and ungrateful, so he was stumped. Was she just not going to answer him?
Her hair was nearly the same shade as Sylvia's, although perhaps a little darker. It was longer, too, and wavy. Nice hair, soft and gentle looking. He frowned again.
"Err... excuse me?" he didn't sound rude, he hoped. He was grateful that this strange girl had saved him, if she even had, but confused to why she wasn't replying. He hadn't been rude or threatening in any way, except for the stripping (but then, he hadn't noticed her and, anyway, it was only to bathe). Phoenix waited for a few more seconds, before shrugging, and turning around to walk away... But was stopped by the sound of a young, sweet voice.
"I found you by the roadside, knocked out and covered in blood... Did someone attack you?" although her voice was gentle and innocent, her tone sounded strange... Not childlike at all. Calm and mature. Turning around, he noticed that she had swivelled around to face him, and was smiling prettily. The first thing he noticed about her face was that she had cute dimples. The second was that her eyes were bright red. Backing away, he raised his eyebrows, as his mouth gaped open in shock.
"You're a vampire?" Phoenix thanked the heavens. His voice had not come out scared, as he was, but more cool and quiet. He was terrified, his whole body frozen up... What was going on? He'd gone from being a simple acrobat, to a crazed murderer in only two days... And now he was about to have his throat torn out by a rabid vampire... But she wasn't getting up. She had stayed seated, one leg folded over the other, a pleasant grin on her face... Somewhat wolfish and hungry, but that was regulation, Phoenix supposed... Oddly, the fear evaporated from him. What... Was this some kind of vampiric technique? He wasn't drawn to her, but...
"Yes." she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. She got up slowly, and he flinched away, but stood his ground. She laughed at his nervousness, and walked towards her knapsack on the floor. Phoenix watched her with careful eyes, just waiting for her to grab him and drain him of all his blood. But she didn't and, when he next looked at her, he saw that she was holding a pair of ragged green trousers in her hand. The vampire dropped them at his feet and he picked them up, scrambling to put them on. She watched him and then, once he was slightly dressed, smirked.
"Sorry I didn't have anything better... We murderers have to stick together, eh?" she chuckled at the shocked look on his face. Suddenly, a rush of anger flushed through him, and Phoenix marched towards the vampire, a nasty look on his face. His fear had turned to anger, and he grabbed her by the collar, lifting her off the floor.
"What do you mean by that?" Phoenix hissed, keeping careful eye contact with her. Then, remembering what she was, he dropped her, and backed away. The fire in his eyes, like the bird he was named after, was still there... And the vampire could sense it. She chuckled darkly, and held out her hand.
"What I mean, is that you and I are of the same kind... Killers. The blood that covered your body... I could feel it in you. My name's Babette. Who're you?"
"They call me Phoenix."
"Come and have something to eat. I was roasting skeever. Hungry?"
He nodded his head, still frowning at her. Indeed, hunger was clawing at his stomach, but he was too preoccupied to think about it particularly. Babette went back over to the fire, and began to turn the skeever over the flames. But Phoenix did not go and join her; he sat on the floor, and placed his head in his hands. Soft, slow sobs wracked his body, as he thought of Thorn and Mercury, and all the fun they had had... And he'd killed them, viciously. Picturing their mutilated bodies once more, he gulped back a huge cry, as tears ran down his face. Curling up into a little ball, he ignored the sounds of the crackling fire, and her quiet singing as she cooked. After a while, he got up from the floor, tears still dripping down his pale face, as he went to join her. He was certain Babette saw the tears but, after he gave her a fierce look, did not mention them. Phoenix had just cried in front of a stranger, and he was ashamed of that, but he would not let her pity him. Although he didn't think the vampire would.
Silently, using her knife, she carved off a piece of meat and handed it to him. Taking it in his hands, he admired it for a moment, before beginning to devour it. She watched him with a keen eye, almost curiously, as he ate the meat she had given him messily. Finally, when he was done, Phoenix turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. The tears had disappeared from his face, miraculously, and neither of them wanted to mention his moment of weakness.
"Aren't you going to eat..." he'd forgotten her name. Shit. Oh yeah! "Babette?" then, he corrected himself. "Oh wait. Vampire's don't eat, do they?"
She smiled, and he almost recoiled at the sight of her sharp fangs. But then, relaxing, he grinned back. Oddly, he was finding himself rather liking this strange little girl... vampire. He didn't really know why she'd rescued him, instead of left him for dead, but he wasn't complaining. Resting his head in his hands, he asked,
"Why did you save me?"
Babette considered the question for a second, pausing. Then, slowly, she shrugged, narrowing her eyes. Truly, she knew the reason... But had to seem offhand. She didn't need this mysterious boy knowing where she was from and who she was working for... "Oh, you just reminded me of someone. Don't know who." she did know who. Silvanus and Astrid, that was who this boy reminded her of. Same age as their son would've been too... However, this kid was much too jumpy to be their child. She had Lukos in her mind, how he looked and acted, and this certainly wasn't him. Odd coincidence though...
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To Skylar: I'd do a list of races for you, but I don't want to use up my word count :) I'd suggest, if you want to bother, going to uespwiki to look up races, but that's up to you. I got into Skyrim by watching my twin brother play it :p although I played Oblivion first for the same reason. To Gufetto: Yup! :)
Thanks to Everyone for congratulating Phoenix on his first kill, and he says thank you too. He lives in my basement along with Silvanus if you want autographs ;)