Author's Note: And this one was incredibly fun to write! It may be just a biiiit disorienting.

For anyone confused: The Green Pact that Bosmer follow apparently forbids them from cutting their own wood or harvesting plant matter, and gives them a strictly carnivorous (and sometimes ritually cannibalistic) diet. And now – on with the show!

Here's hoping the bold parts stay put. ._.

IODH. The cake was a lie. Sorry. I kind of ate it.

Nobody Important

Chapter Sixteen: Phoenix

In which a nightmare plays out.

By: N3k0

Every nerve was on fire.

"Listen, ape, fire is one of the easier elements to call – controlling it is the difficult part."

"Mommy, one of the human boys called me a name today."

Blood. She needed it. Her body pleaded with her to find more of it. Kill. Rip. Shred. Tear. BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!

"If you burn the house down, this will be the last spell you ever learn – I don't care what Ocheeva says. Understand?"

Ghoulish figures in the dark, and the Khajiit's haunting laughter. "Even I never thought it would be you."

"What's a 'cannibal,' Mommy?"

BLOOD.

The first spark, and primal fear filled her. "FOCUS, ape! By Sithis - "

Little Tommy Jones was the boy who called her that. He took her food, and laughed when she cried.

BLOOD! A river of it, a sea – she needed it. She felt an army wouldn't be enough to sate her thirst – but it would be a start. Blood …

Fire blossomed, then exploded outward. She scrambled back, as the thing in the flames claimed a good chunk of the floor.

Little Tommy stood over her, a giant to her five-year-old mind. And a thing of shadows and teeth formed behind him … oh … "Cannibal! Can-ni-bal! Can-ni-bal!"

Talaendril held Gogron close, the sword piercing them both. Talaendril glared at her with eyes sewn shit, and a wide, red maw opened at Gogron's throat. Every tooth a fang …

BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD food BLOOD

"Can-ni-bal! Can-ni-bal!" The thing of teeth and shadows sank pointed fangs into Little Tommy's side. He squealed like a pig when his entrails spilled out. Cannibal.

M'raaj-Dar dumped a bucket of water on the flames and glared at her. Ocheeva requests that I help you. Let us move on to something even more basic.

She felt white hands on her body, grabbing at her, pulling her down with them. She fought them, screaming until her voice grew hoarse, thrashing madly. Death wanted her. Sithis wanted her.

FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD blood FOOD

"Did you know that little boys are often meanest to the ones they're sweet on, little Lyssikins?" Her mother's soothing voice issued from the maw of the shadow beast. When it pulled away from its feast, it stared at her with terrible red eyes.

"Let's try a simple Light spell. No heat! Only light!"

She saw Vicente before her, and he gave a smirk and a quiet round of applause.

"Cannibal! Cannibal! Cannibal!"

"But Mommy, I don't do that."

"I know, Lyssikins. I know."

The shadow beast wore Lyssi's own features.

She woke with the sweet taste of blood in her mouth, hunger sharp in her stomach, and the faint sound of clapping in her ears.

All this was odd, since she hadn't really expected to wake up at all.

"They're called cattle, you know." Lucien's voice was quiet, somewhere off to the right. It was blindingly bright in the room, and her vision was fuzzy. "Vampires – usually ancient, powerful vampires – take them away from their homes, away from their lives, to serve as food. I hadn't expected that from you."

Food.

There was a weight on her leg, and she saw a fuzzy shape there, pulsing dimly with life.

"I believe you might actually be worthy to be my Silencer. Of course, the available pool of candidates has shrunk somewhat, and BLOOD! food! BLOOD! so. hungry. BLOOD! blood! BLOOD! blood! BLOOD!"

Lachance's fuzzy shape bent somewhat. Her eyes never left the dark form, outlined as it was in the heat of his life's blood. He continued talking, rifling through her things, but she couldn't hear words over the pounding in her head, the thumping in her ears.

BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!

If she'd been able to move, she would have attacked him then.

So hungry.

((This'n's from Immortal Blood.))

… "Now, tell me," he said. "Of the vampires of Cyrodiil."

I told him what I could. There was but one tribe in Cyrodiil, a powerful clan who had ousted all other competitors, much like the Imperials themselves had done. Their true name was unknown, lost in history, but they were experts at concealment. If they kept themselves well-fed, they were indistinguishable from living persons. They were cultured, more civilized than the vampires of the provinces, preferring to feed on victims while they were asleep, unaware ….