Fates.Gamble
Care to take a gamble?
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2012
- Location
- Somewhere out there...
The hall was silent; still as death, as though the very air was strangled into quietus. ...Or, at least, it would have been, if not for the incessant sobs and guttural cries coming from the girl before him. Though her face was wet with tears, she was, unquestionably gorgeous. She had a near perfect bone structure and flawless skin, long auburn curls he could tell were soft as silk, and bright, vivid eyes. All of this he would have admired to greater effect, had she not been putting on such a pathetic display. Still, she was a prospect to rival Aphrodite herself, and the literal center of attention whilst all around, the other vampires watched and waited. One might be forgiven to think they were statues. How perfectly still they lingered. Breathless; soundless, and all of them with fangs on display, and hungry eyes boring into the girl. They dared not move until their host came to a decision.
A very fine catch, the appraiser thought to himself, But good enough? Collected and calculating, he circled the girl who remained on her knees, a blubbering mess in a bright white gown that pooled around her like a dinner plate. And perhaps that’s all she would amount to.
“Stand up,” he told her. His voice was powerful, and refined with an accent so indiscernible that it was strange to call it an accent at all. His words were like nature itself, and despite her fear, the woman rose. She dared not meet his gaze, though, and kept her eyes between the floor and stealing meek gazed of the other creatures, all of whom watched her with what she could only call mindless hunger.
“Look at me,” he commanded next, tired of her watching his boots.
“Please…” she managed to squeak out, pleading and fighting to resist the strength of his liquid voice.
This time, he did not wait for her to obey. Reaching out, he grasped her chin, sternly lifting her face up to meet him. The girl shivered at his touch, unusually frigid against her flush skin. Somehow, looking into his icy blue eyes of his calmed her down. Like his voice, they were powerful and commanding. But something was also off about them. It was as though a certain luster, typical in the eyes of anyone else, wasn’t quite there. They were mystifying, light with a dull glow unlike the lucidity she was used to in others. She soon lost herself in the soft blue pools, her tears drying up and her posture straightening.
Scared though she was, this man wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the other five; those whom hoarded around her like wolves surrounding a hare. The way his slender, cold finger stroked down her cheek, and how those intense eyes appraised her, ever so gently… It was almost as if she had nothing to fear anymore. Not from him at least. He felt so ancient and powerful… Even thrilling as his finger drifted further down still.
Icy tingles ran across her collarbone when his touch continued its descent and grazed the buxom of her breasts, offered so readily thanks to the tight corset she wore. Her breath caught at once, and she began to see her captor in a new light. He was devilishly handsome, after all, with thick black hair hanging just above his shoulders, framing his light-skinned face and strong jaw. His lips looked soft… Full… Tempting, even. If she could have bared look away from his face, she might have found him dashing in attire as well. He looked a fine specimen in his elegant, double breasted waistcoat, a bold flash of red against his black top. Dark trousers fell loosely to his ankles, ending in his fine, black boots.
His offered prize was even more beautiful now that he could get a good look at her, but unfortunately all he could picture now was the image of her on the ground, dress like a dinner plate and squealing like a pig fit to serve it. If she couldn’t even compose herself in this situation, not without his influence. And so that begged the question of how she would behave when the very foundations of her world were redefined. With that, the choice became clear…
“Your prettiest catch yet, Malcolm,” he acknowledged one of the other vampires; a youth of 17 in appearance only. “Truly she is fit for a king. But not for me, I’m afraid.” The group of predators stirred, growling and grinning at his jest, and the girl’s fear returned tenfold. She barely had time to protest before he shoved her away, letting her tumble into the clutches of Malcolm and the two vampires nearest him. Her screams pierced the room, echoing on the stone walls as she was dragged to a nearby couch and found a pairs of fangs sinking into her neck, her wrist, and once her dress had been ripped open, into the meaty thigh near her groin. The other two inferiors moved in to join them, but their host stopped them with nothing more than his icy gaze.
“No, they brought her, not you lot. If you want to eat, you’ll have to work for it. And someone has to watch the grounds, besides. The local citizens won’t be pleased while their beautiful livestock goes missing at such alarming rates, and I’ll not be caught unawares should they put the pieces together.” The pair hissed, fangs still drawn and ready to disagree. Yet, these two knew better than to so much as entertain the thought of turning against him. And so, they skulked off, leaving the feast to return to the manor grounds, while their apparent master returned to his seat, simply to watch the others feed. The girl’s screams were already dying off as she was drained, weak moans of protest soon to be her only means of resistance, what with three of them partaking of her at once.
He thought of joining them while she was still fresh; she smelled positively divine; but what with his recent string of failed candidates, he found his appetite lacking. And his guests were messy eaters besides, letting the girl’s inner delicacy spill all over her pretty white dress to stain it red. Such infants… He contemplated to himself. It was a wonder he’d felt no zest in his eternity with nothing but amateurs to keep him entertained. How long had it been since he’d found one old, or competent enough to truly engage him? Few and less survived to the age he had, their greed and gluttony drawing the ire of humans putting an end to those too incompetent to survive into the true adulthood of immortality. And that was no small number.
And so came the decision to create his own progeny; The perfect mate upon which to pass all of his wisdom and guidance, and more importantly, to share the ages with. He need only find the right woman, but for the first time in a very long time across his exceptionally long life, he was growing impatient. He may have had eternity to live, but if his servants kept bringing him duds he would possibly just kill himself out of the boredom. He may have settled for the beauty dying beside him, but after what happened the last time, that was one thing he could not abide to do. Perhaps he would have to take on a more active role and seek out this candidate himself. This latest one came close, but the fools were never going to find exactly what he was looking for, and it was too much to hope she would just come walking through the door to meet him.
A very fine catch, the appraiser thought to himself, But good enough? Collected and calculating, he circled the girl who remained on her knees, a blubbering mess in a bright white gown that pooled around her like a dinner plate. And perhaps that’s all she would amount to.
“Stand up,” he told her. His voice was powerful, and refined with an accent so indiscernible that it was strange to call it an accent at all. His words were like nature itself, and despite her fear, the woman rose. She dared not meet his gaze, though, and kept her eyes between the floor and stealing meek gazed of the other creatures, all of whom watched her with what she could only call mindless hunger.
“Look at me,” he commanded next, tired of her watching his boots.
“Please…” she managed to squeak out, pleading and fighting to resist the strength of his liquid voice.
This time, he did not wait for her to obey. Reaching out, he grasped her chin, sternly lifting her face up to meet him. The girl shivered at his touch, unusually frigid against her flush skin. Somehow, looking into his icy blue eyes of his calmed her down. Like his voice, they were powerful and commanding. But something was also off about them. It was as though a certain luster, typical in the eyes of anyone else, wasn’t quite there. They were mystifying, light with a dull glow unlike the lucidity she was used to in others. She soon lost herself in the soft blue pools, her tears drying up and her posture straightening.
Scared though she was, this man wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the other five; those whom hoarded around her like wolves surrounding a hare. The way his slender, cold finger stroked down her cheek, and how those intense eyes appraised her, ever so gently… It was almost as if she had nothing to fear anymore. Not from him at least. He felt so ancient and powerful… Even thrilling as his finger drifted further down still.
Icy tingles ran across her collarbone when his touch continued its descent and grazed the buxom of her breasts, offered so readily thanks to the tight corset she wore. Her breath caught at once, and she began to see her captor in a new light. He was devilishly handsome, after all, with thick black hair hanging just above his shoulders, framing his light-skinned face and strong jaw. His lips looked soft… Full… Tempting, even. If she could have bared look away from his face, she might have found him dashing in attire as well. He looked a fine specimen in his elegant, double breasted waistcoat, a bold flash of red against his black top. Dark trousers fell loosely to his ankles, ending in his fine, black boots.
His offered prize was even more beautiful now that he could get a good look at her, but unfortunately all he could picture now was the image of her on the ground, dress like a dinner plate and squealing like a pig fit to serve it. If she couldn’t even compose herself in this situation, not without his influence. And so that begged the question of how she would behave when the very foundations of her world were redefined. With that, the choice became clear…
“Your prettiest catch yet, Malcolm,” he acknowledged one of the other vampires; a youth of 17 in appearance only. “Truly she is fit for a king. But not for me, I’m afraid.” The group of predators stirred, growling and grinning at his jest, and the girl’s fear returned tenfold. She barely had time to protest before he shoved her away, letting her tumble into the clutches of Malcolm and the two vampires nearest him. Her screams pierced the room, echoing on the stone walls as she was dragged to a nearby couch and found a pairs of fangs sinking into her neck, her wrist, and once her dress had been ripped open, into the meaty thigh near her groin. The other two inferiors moved in to join them, but their host stopped them with nothing more than his icy gaze.
“No, they brought her, not you lot. If you want to eat, you’ll have to work for it. And someone has to watch the grounds, besides. The local citizens won’t be pleased while their beautiful livestock goes missing at such alarming rates, and I’ll not be caught unawares should they put the pieces together.” The pair hissed, fangs still drawn and ready to disagree. Yet, these two knew better than to so much as entertain the thought of turning against him. And so, they skulked off, leaving the feast to return to the manor grounds, while their apparent master returned to his seat, simply to watch the others feed. The girl’s screams were already dying off as she was drained, weak moans of protest soon to be her only means of resistance, what with three of them partaking of her at once.
He thought of joining them while she was still fresh; she smelled positively divine; but what with his recent string of failed candidates, he found his appetite lacking. And his guests were messy eaters besides, letting the girl’s inner delicacy spill all over her pretty white dress to stain it red. Such infants… He contemplated to himself. It was a wonder he’d felt no zest in his eternity with nothing but amateurs to keep him entertained. How long had it been since he’d found one old, or competent enough to truly engage him? Few and less survived to the age he had, their greed and gluttony drawing the ire of humans putting an end to those too incompetent to survive into the true adulthood of immortality. And that was no small number.
And so came the decision to create his own progeny; The perfect mate upon which to pass all of his wisdom and guidance, and more importantly, to share the ages with. He need only find the right woman, but for the first time in a very long time across his exceptionally long life, he was growing impatient. He may have had eternity to live, but if his servants kept bringing him duds he would possibly just kill himself out of the boredom. He may have settled for the beauty dying beside him, but after what happened the last time, that was one thing he could not abide to do. Perhaps he would have to take on a more active role and seek out this candidate himself. This latest one came close, but the fools were never going to find exactly what he was looking for, and it was too much to hope she would just come walking through the door to meet him.
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