yes I'm writing more bloodbag related vampire dark sbi content, sue me
Techno's life has been steadily going downhill since the coven that owns him found out how valuable he apparently is.
He is very aware of the implicit irony in that thought too. Saying his life has been going downhill would indicate he ever reached any sort of high point, which isn't the case. He turned eighteen six months ago. The other feeders looked at him with pity on that day. Techno never understood why vampires still have a weird hang-up about biting children. He's heard the excuses they throw around sometimes: children have less blood, why feed on them when there are plenty of adult feeders. Children are so much easier to kill by accident and nobody wants to waste food like that. The taste of blood hasn't reached full maturity yet until a human turns eighteen, so there's no sense in feeding on them earlier.
Or maybe, just maybe, the smallest trace of humanity lingers inside these vampires after centuries of being the dominant species, and it's their morals that tell them hurting little kids is wrong.
Techno doesn't believe that one could be it.
Whatever the real reason is, the day Techno turned eighteen should have been the day he lost his impunity and started his life as a walking, breathing blood bag to these guys. Only pure coincidence had delayed that from occurring.
And that also happens to be the reason he's in this new predicament.
"Do not move." The vampire pulling on his hair sighs in agitation, yanking some sectioned strands together. Her slender fingers hold no gentleness. She picks up a pin from the table beside her and slides it into Techno's hair, scraping his scalp painfully. Then she continues brushing the rest. "Gosh, we need to sort this mess out."
"Now it's a good thing we never cut it. The pink is what sets the Blade line apart from other designer lines," a second vampire says. He is older, and has dark hair that is speckled through with gray. His face wrinkles when he glances over at Techno, as if the very sight of him is displeasing. "Make sure his throat is bared properly though. We can't afford a single mistake. The Antarctic Coven is already pissed enough as is."
"And whose fault is that?" the woman asks testily. The man doesn't answer, probably because she's not really asking. Tension in the coven has been running high, and that sort of thing always bleeds over to the feeders. Everybody has been on edge for days now. But it's hard to know what's actually going on when everything is discussed behind closed doors.
All Techno knows is that somebody from this coven screwed up.
What they did and how they did it will remain a mystery to him, probably forever. But their mistake was one that directly insulted or harmed another, more powerful group of vampires. So now they have to grovel to make up for it if they don't want to risk being wiped out. The solution they have come to is to offer a special gift as an apology.
Techno is valuable.
He is the peace offering.
The woman pushes his head down roughly, gathering more of his hair into intricate braids that weave together high up so none of them hang down and conceal his throat or the sides of his neck from view. This is the correct way to present a human. Back at the nursery, all the kids had their hair shaved short. And most vampires keep their feeders that way too, for easy access when biting. Techno's hair comes down to his elbows because he threw a tantrum whenever anybody tried to cut it and at some point, the coven gave up on attempting, probably because he was too young to feed from anyway.
His clothes are pulled and prodded one final time as he's posed in the middle of the room, a hand pushing into his back so he'll straighten his spine. The woman assesses him with a critical eye, trying to pick up on the smallest imperfections. Techno stares back at her, face impassive. She seems almost taken aback at his calm. Techno doesn't usually let himself be manhandled so easily. He's kind of known for putting up more of a fight.
The thing is, he honestly can't be bothered today. He knows it won't make a difference.
He never liked this coven. But he hates being gifted to a different one even more. Techno was bought by them at the age of eight, the normal age for nurseries to sell the humans they've created. Before he came here, those clinical white walls were all he ever knew. The other kids he grew up with, the caretakers with their tepid smiles. Techno was raised for his future as a feeder like every other child created in that facility was, and every facility like it across the country. He has lived with this coven since. He has never known anything else. He's used to their routines, their rules, their way of life. Sure, he dislikes it, but there's comfort in the familiarity. He doesn't have to fear any nasty surprises.
He has no idea what to expect from this Antarctic Coven he keeps hearing about.
"Raise your chin." The woman taps it twice, making him look up at her. "And for goodness sake show some gratitude. Most humans would be elated at this honor, you know?"
Techno doesn't answer, staring at her with dull blue eyes.
She sighs again, but travels another glance over his clothes and nods in satisfaction at the sight. Techno feels like a turkey done up for dinner. The white button-up has frilly sleeves, and a wide collar that exposes more skin than necessary. At the bottom, the fabric is bunched up and shoved into the top of his black dress pants. He's wearing new, ill-fitting shoes. Really, if they're trying to impress the Antarctic Coven with a shiny new toy they haven't done the worst job.
The man stands at the door, opening it and waiting for the woman to follow him. She does, only turning back slightly before stepping out. "Do not move," she tells Techno again. Then she bustles out, closing and locking the door behind her.
Techno drops his shoulders immediately and reaches up to take those annoying little pins out of his hair. He shakes the braids loose, running his fingers through them for good measure. When he catches on a knot he winces. But he doesn't stop until all of it has come undone. He looks around the room briefly, but there are no windows or other exits. And he knows escaping would do little good at this point. So he sits down on the settee instead, having no goal except an additional act of defiance. There is no use to it, but in the face of the powerlessness that has haunted him his entire life, the tiniest thing can feel like putting up a fight.
After only a few minutes the door opens again. The sire of his current coven enters first, a short man who does his best to project an aura of control but always falls more in the realm of overly cautious. He is wringing his hands a little as he leads the way into the room, mid-sentence in speaking to the vampires behind him, "-and obviously, the pleasure would be entirely ours. We really can't apologize enough for our transgression, but we believe this will go a long way in showing our goodwill to make the relationship between our covens run as smoothly as possible in the future."
The person following him hums, almost contemplatively so. He also isn't very tall, but even from a glance, the demeanor this man possesses is entirely different. Techno has heard other feeders who were sold and bargained between multiple covens talk sometimes about how easy it is to tell a sire from a regular vampire. He never quite got what they meant, until he saw this guy.
"Your goodwill is worthless to us," the sire of the Antarctic Coven remarks, his voice so soft it should be hard to hear but somehow it carries across the room perfectly. "If you wanted smooth relationships you shouldn't have fucked up in the first place, mate."
The sire of Techno's current coven falters, mouth opening and closing several times with the desperation of a fish pulled from the water unexpectedly. "Well, I didn't-" At the Antarctic Coven sire raising an eyebrow, his jaw snaps shut. A sire is responsible for every action of their coven members. Any excuse that boils down to putting the blame on somebody else will not be tolerated. "Yes, I see," he finishes lamely. "Please, consider it an admission of guilt and a most humble way to make amends."
The Antarctic Coven sire nods, finally turning his gaze to look at Techno instead. All the harshness on his face melts away, and a small smile graces his lips.
"And a splendid gift it is," he breathes in awe.
He steps forward and Techno can't help shifting back a bit, though it doesn't change a thing. This is the position he has found himself in. The Antarctic Coven sire reaches out and cups his chin, lifting his head up to look at him. He mostly seems to be studying Techno's hair for a moment. Then he waits, staring at Techno in silence. Techno stares back. The sire's expression seems to slacken a fraction in disappointment from the lack of reaction.
"Do you have its paperwork?" he asks, pulling away. Techno lets out a small sigh of relief.
Techno's owner fumbles, quickly snapping his fingers. "Yes, yes, of course. We have it right here." The man who was in the room earlier while they were getting Techno ready to be presented rushes forward. He has some papers with him. The Antarctic Coven sire briefly looks them over before handing them back.
"You won't be offended if we do our own research, I assume? We wouldn't want you to dupe us, frankly." He offers his sweetest smile, run through with deadly intent. Even a human like Techno can tell that this sire does not ask for permission. He is only adhering to a thin veneer of politeness, if nothing else.
"Certainly," the sire of Techno's coven says with a few fast nods. "We would expect no less. But I assure you, this is the real deal. A Blade line human, unbitten. You won't find something like this anywhere else."
"They do seem to be pretty hard to come by," the Antarctic Coven sire agrees. He reaches down absently, to run his hand over Techno's head and down his neck. Or he tries to do so. Techno flinches back, slapping against the sire's wrist to bat his hand away harshly. He can't stand it when people touch his hair.
A silence falls over the room. Techno watches his owner's eyes go wide, mouth again agape in a smothered exclamation of dismay at him physically assaulting a high-standing vampire. But he is more distracted by the way the Antarctic Coven sire looks at him, surprise and elation obvious. His mouth stretches into a wide grin.
"Wonderful," he says, glee dripping off the word. "With how docile it was behaving, I was certain I'd need to get rid of your entire bloodline after all. But perhaps you weren't lying."
The sire who owns Techno scowls. Despite being accused of deceit the entire time in a roundabout way, having it thrown at their feet so unceremoniously manages to spark some anger even in their spineless dead body. "Wha-"
But the sire of the Antarctic Coven speaks over them. "I want to be alone with it for a bit."
This time it is the woman who pipes up, smoothly cutting in where their sire is struggling. Normally, she would never dare show such disrespect, but maybe they're all acutely aware that their immortal lives are hanging in the balance too. If they mess up this meeting, the Antarctic Coven won't hesitate to kill them all. "We have a proper feeding room if you'd like," she says.
Techno tenses up. He knows that he's being sold for his blood. Humans hold no other value to vampires. Maybe aside from the few wealthy covens who are vain and frivolous enough to keep humans as pets. Though even then, from everything Techno has heard, the most spoiled pet still gets fed on. For the most part, humans are just that. Food. Vampires distinguish between different lines only because genetic engineering has made it so some humans literally taste better or are more rare. Like having a vintage wine in your possession can be a status symbol.
"No," the Antarctic Coven sire says. "This room will do just fine."
"As you wish." The female vampire bows slightly, ushering the other coven members out of the room. Techno smiles wryly watching their supposed sire be pushed around so easily in his own home. Then he fixes his full attention back on the one vampire remaining, the one who poses a real threat to him.
The one to whom Techno had his ownership relinquished. Delivered on a silver platter.
"What is your name?" the sire asks, tilting his head a bit as he continues to observe Techno. There is a degree of curiosity there, though Techno isn't entirely sure what he is hoping to find.
"Blade line," Techno answers. "T branch."
The sire chuckles, an easy sound. "I asked for your name, not your given classification."
"Techno."
"Phil," the sire returns, extending his hand for Techno to shake. "It's an immense pleasure." Techno doesn't move, refusing to break eye contact with those pale blue irises that narrow down on him slightly. Phil's smile only grows.
Techno has been told there are two things that set the Blade line apart from other humans. Their peculiar pink hair, and their defiance.
"Tell me, Techno. Do you know what your coven did?" Phil asks, dropping his arm back to his side.
"No," Techno says. Phil opens his mouth to continue but Techno doesn't let him. "They're not my coven. I'm a human, not a vampire."
He feels a little satisfaction at the way that Phil blinks, taken off guard by Techno so easily dismissing his own status. Among older, richer covens who care about decorum, treating your feeders with a baseline of decency might be the norm, as long as they're obedient and don't act up. It could very well be that sires consider those humans part of their covens. Perhaps it's not even completely unheard of for the sentiment to be returned. Every child at the nursery was raised to long for their future as a feeder, to wish for a nice coven where they could serve their purpose.
Techno absolutely does not feel the same.
"I suppose so," Phil says thoughtfully. A shiver runs down Techno's spine when he realizes the sire sounds almost happy about it. "Do you know what this coven did, then?"
"Something stupid," Techno deadpans.
Phil's lips press together into a small grin again. "Something very stupid. And now they've lost the only thing of worth their sorry asses had to offer." He reaches for Techno's hair like before, and Techno slaps his hand away a second time. Phil cackles in delight, then turns and heads towards the door. "Follow me."
Techno gets up. One thing he has learned a long time ago is when to pick his battles. Phil can lift him by the scruff off his neck one-handed and drag him out of here like a sack of potatoes if the sire really wants to. So to keep his dignity intact, Techno follows him to the door.
That doesn't stop Phil from grabbing his wrist.
Techno pulls away, but the grip Phil has on him is like a vice. Not tight enough to hurt - no, Phil seems very aware of how much pressure he is putting on Techno's skin. But it's unrelenting, a coldness that seeps into his flesh as Phil easily leads him along. The other vampires are standing around in the hallway, trying (and failing) very hard to look as if they weren't attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation. Techno honestly wouldn't be able to tell them why Phil demanded to be left alone with him in the first place. Maybe it's just some weird power play.
"Thank you for the gift. I do believe we'll be accepting it," Phil tells them in passing, not sparing a second glass. He is headed towards the front door with single-minded determination. "Idiots," he adds under his breath. Techno blinks and they're already outside, the chilly night air nipping at his skin. He fumbles not to fall over the pebbles at the speed Phil is going. He must be eager to get out of here.
A black car sits parked near the front of the house. Techno looks back at the building, not recalling the last time he saw its exterior. Like most feeders, he spent his entire life indoors. First in the nursery, then in the rooms the coven had allocated him to. He can't remember the last time he saw the sky and it wasn't through a window.
But Phil gives him no time to savor it. The door of the car is wrenched open and Techno is pretty much thrown inside. Phil rushing to get in the driver's seat and turn the key in the ignition amplifies the sense that he's in a hurry to leave. Techno doesn't think it's because Phil is scared of this coven or them taking back their offer.
If anything Phil is too excited to be patient any longer.
The drive to whatever rotten place the Antarctic Coven calls home passes mostly in silence. Phil attempts to spark conversation a few times, which Techno stubbornly ignores as he stares out the window. This only makes Phil giggle happily. When they finally arrive, Techno's eyebrows draw up a bit at the sight of their mansion. The coven that owned him before wasn't rich, but they certainly weren't too poor either. Techno would say they had upper-middle-class vibes if anything. They mostly bought common feeder lines out of practicality and rarely indulged in designer humans. They only bought Techno because he was on sale at a huge discount, back when the Blade line was still assumed to be a flawed experiment. Whoever made the decision to buy him must be rubbing their hands together now, that's for sure.
But compared to the wealth of the Antarctic Empire, that coven might as well be beggars.
"Do you like it?" Phil asks suddenly, breaking Techno out of his thoughts. He didn't notice that the sire had gotten out of the car and had opened the door for him. Techno slowly gets out of the vehicle, fitting an appropriate amount of disinterest onto his face.
"It's very 'we haven't updated a thing since the death of King Edward III' to be honest," he says.
"I do believe he visited once or twice when this was a summer residence for the royals," Phil answers. His tone makes it hard for Techno to pinpoint if he's joking or not. His wrist is grabbed again, a little more gently than before though not by much. "Come on, they've waited long enough for you."
Techno would ask who they are if he didn't think he's about to find out. He's only heard about the Antarctic Coven in relation to the power they hold - both literal and social - compared to other covens. He has no clue about their actual size.
So maybe he's a little surprised that there are only two other vampires in the foyer waiting to greet them.
One of them looks a lot like Phil at a glance, with blond hair and blue eyes. He's maybe an inch or two shorter than Techno too, though that might be because he was turned at a very young age. Teenage vampires are uncommon so Techno is a little startled at the sight. Or maybe he's instinctively put off by the way this young vampire practically runs over to them the moment they step foot inside.
"Holy shit you actually got it! I told you, I fucking told you they'd cave." He bounces on his heels a few times, turning around with a gloating air to the second vampire in the foyer, who is approaching a lot more calmly.
"Yeah, I can see that, Tommy." He is tall and lanky, older, and has curly brown hair. He is wearing round glasses, though Techno knows that's a fashion statement because every vampire ever has perfect eyesight. For some reason, it makes this one look very pretentious and Techno almost laughs a little at how ridiculous that is. "They really were that desperate, huh?"
"I think they'd have given me their fucking fortune and a half if I'd asked," Phil says. "But we got something much better, didn't we?" He lifts Techno's arm up as if that would show him off.
"Is it an actual Blade line?" the tall vampire asks, stepping a little closer. "I mean, I know it has the pink hair and all but you know they sold a shit ton of fake knockoffs in the past few years."
"It was bought before all that, before they found out," Phil says. The tall vampire steps closer, and Techno flinches back, but he's trapped between Phil's chest and the grip on his wrist, so he can't really go anywhere. When the tall vampire tries to reach for his hair, maybe to inspect it for a potential dye job, Techno kicks at them.
"Attitude checks out," the tall vampire says with a laugh, backing off again.
"Don't rile it up, Wilbur," Phil chides.
Tommy jumps between them, literally so, and puffs out his chest. "This is the part where you can all say 'thank you' because if I didn't happen to very accidentally provoke that fucking guy into trying to behead me, we wouldn't have a Blade line human right now. You're welcome."
"'Accidental'," Wilbur scoffs. "We all know you did that on purpose." Tommy's smirk in response says more than words ever could.
"We didn't need a Blade line human," Phil says, maybe a little unhappy one of his coven would go looking for trouble. "Though I guess it's pretty nice to have one since they're impossible to buy anymore."
Techno clears his throat and all three vampires snap their faces towards him. "Feel free to continue your comedy routine but can you take me to the feeder quarters first so I don't have to listen to it?"
For a second they just stare at him in vague befuddlement. Then they start to laugh, Phil's by now familiar deep chuckle first with the others following suit. Techno isn't fast enough to react when Wilbur reaches out again, though he only touches Techno's face this time to condescendingly pat his cheek twice.
"You won't be in the feeder quarters," Phil says. "We don't do that around here." He starts walking again, leading Techno up the stairs this time. He can see that both Wilbur and Tommy are trailing behind. "We prepared a room for you. Hopefully one you'll like, though since Tommy was responsible for the decor I wouldn't bet on it."
"This is why we need a Blade line human," Tommy complains. "Because you torture me and I deserve nice things as a reward."
Phil ignores him. "If there is anything you do require, anything at all, you can tell us and we'll do our best to provide." He opens a door, and Techno finds himself in a spacious bedroom. Big enough that half the other coven's feeder quarter could fit inside. The furniture straddles the line between antique and modern in a way that's almost charming rather than off-putting.
What certainly is off-putting is that the single window has iron bars on it to prevent escaping.
"Cozy," Techno remarks, taking a few steps away from Phil as soon as he is let go. "Do you give every human their own personal prison or am I just that special?"
Phil regards him with the utmost patience, an expression that reads as both amusement and pity that Techno doesn't seem to understand their intentions. "Not a single one of our humans is in this coven against their will," he says simply.
Techno almost rolls his eyes at that. "If you're on a raft and the ocean is full of sharks, you're not on that raft against your will either. That doesn't make it a choice."
"Damn, it has a point," Wilbur says dryly from the doorway, clearly not taking him seriously. Techno notices neither he nor Tommy came inside.
"We also do not bite our humans against their will," Phil adds.
And that does give pause to the swirling thoughts in Techno's mind. Because as much as Phil seems convinced that he's speaking the truth, the statement itself does not make sense. It completely erases the purpose of a feeder.
"That's… a good way to starve," Techno says.
Phil smiles. "Not at all," he says. "You should get some rest. We'll see you in the morning."
He closes the door as he leaves, and Techno hears a key turn in the lock. He waits for a minute or two before walking over and testing the handle. He won't be able to get out that way. The bars seem solid too, so Techno falls down on the bed with a sigh. At least he's not sharing with ten other people, all crammed together in a bunch of cots placed down as an afterthought by a group of vampires who forgot humans need sleep.
Phil's parting words confuse him. The fact that they're holding back on biting him is weird.
Aside from the pink hair and the defiant nature, there is actually a third, much more unexpected thing that makes the Blade line special.
The exquisite taste of their blood.
The other two traits were discovered first, obviously. The Blade line was meant to be an experimental designer line to begin with, so not a lot of them were produced. Unnatural hair color aside - a genetic hiccup in the code - the constant disobedience was a much bigger issue during those trail runs. Docility is one of the main things by which feeders are judged a success. So the Blade line was scrapped as a failed product after a hundred or so humans were made and the leftover specimens, like Techno, were sold for pennies.
Imagine their surprise when vampires found out the Blade line also happens to possess the most delicious blood ever conceived.
What ensued was a collector's worst nightmare. An already limited stock was further slimmed down by how many Blade line humans had been killed by impatient sires over the years due to their insubordination or bad behavior, or died because some covens don't care for their feeders properly, or the ones that were drained dry by vampires with poor self-control when they got the smallest taste of the deliciousness that sat in their veins. By the time it was truly understood how rare and coveted the Blade line was, only a dozen or so remained. Techno included.
And the coven who owned him had never bitten him.
Both because he was on the younger end of the Blade line humans produced, and because he caused a ruckus anytime they tried to get close to him. They stopped trying when his worth was revealed to them. He was a highly sought-after, unbitten designer human from a line that can't be reproduced anymore because all research was scrapped. That's as limited edition as they get.
They were still debating on how much to sell him for when the Antarctic Empire came along.
But they don't need money, Techno can tell they don't. They don't have any reason to keep him in his unbitten condition. They want to feed on him. Phil has admitted as much.
They just want him to give them permission first.
It's almost enough to make Techno feel homesick for the old coven. They weren't great, but at least they weren't playing some weird ancient vampire mind game or whatever the heck this is supposed to be. Techno doesn't know.
What he does know is that if they're going to be waiting for him to agree to be fed on, they better be prepared to die thirsty.