Creature of the Night (PatientOne & MetalMelissa)

[MetalMelissa]

A pale gibbous moon hung resplendent in the night sky over the city of Firenze, silently watching over the busy streets illuminated by glass-plated street lamps that were fixed to the close-knit fronts of old, picturesque buildings. In a newsagents on a narrow side street perpendicular to Via Pratese, a balding middle-aged man purchased a packet of Marlboro cigarettes and a five euro scratch card. Thanking the vendor with little more than an upwards nod, he turned away from the till, tucked the cigarettes into his back pocket, and pocketed his change, save for a twenty cent piece with which he proceeded to rub away the latex covering on the front of the card. The vendor, tired from an eight hour shift and unimpressed at the customer's frigid manners, rolled his eyes as the man left his shop, muttered a quiet, sarcastic arrivederci, and turned back to his newspaper. The date on the front of it read—in Italian—Thursday, 20th October. The headline—also in Italian—read "Ripper Strikes Again."

Outside the night was cool but dry, and the narrow streets were neither busy nor deserted. The balding man, who wore creased slacks, a grey zip jacket, and a pinstripe shirt with the top two buttons open, ditched his losing scratch card in a the bin by the storefront and reproduced his Marlboros. Two attractive young women in short skirts and high heels passed him en route to a local bar, and the man paused to watch them go by before lighting up a cigarette.

"They think it's a copycat killer," one of the women was saying to the other, though the man barely heard her. He was more interested in their legs. "Cappella Bianca, Whitechapel; they mean the same thing."

Turning onto Via Pratese, the balding man ran a chubby fingered hand over what hair he had left, felt how greasy it was, and wiped his palm on the leg of his trousers. The sight of those two young women had stirred something in his loins, and he had to adjust his crotch as he ambled down the footpath.

"Need a hand with that?"

Turning towards the voice, his eyes came upon the figure of another young woman in the doorway of an old apartment building. She was about five foot eight in height, pale-skinned and raven-haired, and wore nothing but a black chiffon robe that hung half-open at her chest, and barely came down to her knees. She was barefoot, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smile and black rings around her grey-green eyes. The man had little doubt what she was, what she wanted, or indeed what she was offering.

"I might," he scoffed, taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the pavement and sidling up to her. "Or I might need more than a hand. How much?"

He grinned, she chuckled, and coyly shrugged her shoulders.

"What do you want?"

The man considered that a moment, considered her as well, slowly and sleazily dragging his gaze down and up her body, admiring her bare feet and legs, and the promise of everything that lay beneath her robe. Leaning close to her, he slid one hand across her hip and squeezed one cheek of her ass in his meaty palm, his breath hot on her ear where leaned closer still to whisper: "I want to fuck you in the mouth and ass."

She smirked and hummed at that, pressed her ass back into his palm, and trailed a hand of her own over the front of his trousers.

"Normally? Two hundred," she replied, "but for you... I can make an exception."

The balding man could have no idea why she would make any exceptions for him, but neither was he about to ruin his chances of a good deal.

"I'll give you a hundred," he told her, grasping her behind again and pulling her hips close to his. "A hundred, and the best fuck of your life."​

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Clients had always been easy for her, at least once she became accustomed to the lifestyle. When she first took the streets it had been uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and not without a healthy degree of shame. Selling her body felt so demeaning back then, but after a time it became little more than a way to make money, and soon after that an easy way to make money. She didn't have to do much besides show a little flesh, proffer a little indulgence of earthly desires, and do what was needed to put line her pockets. She'd picked up something of a drug habit along the way, but snorting a line of coke off a man's stomach made it easier to let him put his cock where he wanted, and even made the whole exchange a little bit more enjoyable for her. Since the change, however, it seemed that clients were all the more eager to partake of her womanly gifts.

Drumming the box of Marlboro cigarettes with one set of cracked, blood-stained fingernails, she exhaled a plume of grey-blue smoke into the air and turned her head to look at the balding man. His pot belly was covered in a thin layer of coarse, matted hair, with a thicker line running down to his limp cock. It had tasted like he hadn't showered for a week when she pursed her lips around him and drew his erection into her mouth, and she'd gasped and whimpered when he pressed it into her from behind. His considerable girth stretched her to an uncomfortable degree, but she cried for more when he began to grind his hips against her buttocks, cried for still more until his thrusts drove her into the mattress.

She allowed him to climax before she killed him. It wasn't a favour, or the permitting of one last hurrah before taking his life from him, but rather a selfish decision on her part. She got off on letting him have his way with her, even allowed him to spill his load inside her before she turned on him. He cried out in surprise and pain when she first bit his neck, and when she didn't stop his cries quickly turned to terror. She slammed the butt of one hand against the underside of his chin and the end of his tongue almost came off clean between his teeth. For now, though, she was calm.

She took another drag from the cigarette and turned away from his corpse, directing her exhale towards the mottled ceiling. Was this to be her life from now on? How long would it last, and what would happen to her if it ended? Sadness tinged her mood, but she told herself that it was no different to prostitution: she'd gotten used to that, and she'd get used to this... She had to get used to this.

The first few days of her new life were spent in constant fear and constant tears, but then the hunger had grown too strong. She felt a veritable lust to kill, and after four days she could take it no longer. The rage came on her then, and she'd savaged her client so horrifically that two police officers had thrown up when they discovered the scene three days later. That had been two weeks hence and the balding man was her fifth meal. The police had yet to discover the fourth. Recalling those memories now, she felt a rush of blood to her loins and felt a smirk come across her face. That made it easier, the rush. It was like a cocaine high, only the taste was sweeter. She closed her eyes, lay back against the pillows, and tossed the still-lit cigarette to the floor. Then she parted her supple thighs and slipped a hand between them, felt the heat emanating from her sex, and gave herself up to arousal.​

 

[PatientOne]

Over the centuries that humans had grown in technology and way of life and thoughts, one thing had remained the same, Vampires still kept themselves hidden. They had rules and laws to follow in their own society and drawing unwanted attention to the race as a whole was a BIG no no. Vampires were executed as traitors for that reason alone however, the latest cause for worry has come from a vampire who no Sire was accountable for, which meant that this particular human was changed without his/her permission. Again, a no no in vampire laws. When the killings began to grow in number a Shade was called to the Queen's office. That particular Shade was Alexander Night. He was a five hundred year old Pure Blood who had been serving as an assassin for the last two centuries. The reason he was called was just in case the vampire was too far gone, he'd have to be the one to execute them.

Heavy boot falls thudded down the smooth black and white marbled floors as Alex made his way through the manor. His pants were a light fabric, but still stout in durability. 5.11 tactical cargo pants to be exact, a wonderful creation by humans as all Shade wore those pants. His torso was covered by a long sleeved black nylon turtle neck and his shoulders were holding black leather shoulder straps, holding a 36 inch straight bladed sword to the spine of his back. The handle of the blade was held upside down so that it was resting above his belt line. This allowed him to wear a coat over his weapon and keep it hidden easily. Rounding a corner he came to a pair of black stained oak doors. Stopping at the door he knocked a few times and stood there, hearing a sweet melodic voice giving him permission to enter. Lifting a hand covered in a tight black leather gloves he pushed one door open. The gloves were a light leather material on the palm, while offering breathing room on the roof of the hand with a sort of spandex like material for mobility and flexibility.

Walking in he shut the door behind him with a soft click. Stepping up to a large dark mahogany desk he bowed at the waist and placed his right hand over his chest. Staying in that manner he waited till she'd given him permission to right his stance. Standing straight up he held his own hands together in front of him and watched the beautiful young female in front of him. She had short, pixie style, white blonde hair and snow white eyes. Her skin was slightly pale to match the white image she had but her clothing was a bit more colorful as she was wearing a soft yellow sun dress while she sat in front of a desk that dwarfed her small figure. She informed him of his duty to track this rogue vampire and discover why they are killing and drawing attention to the race. It is up to his decision if the vampire is able to be saved or executed.

---------------------------------------

That was a week ago, and now here he stood in a rather bustling city in Italy. The winds carried a variety of scents to them as he zipped up his black leather jacket and turned a pair of ice blue eyes on the humans that scurried along the streets around him. Lust, greed, a variety of foods, and fear. Fear was thick in the air with the recent murders, a fourth one was just found. The females were afraid but the men seemed very paranoid. No surprise there as they were the ones being targeted. Amazing how much a strong male could shake when he realized someone was gunning for his life. Streets that were usually busy with life and lust for the prostitutes of Italy, were now a barren wasteland. A no man's land that only the brave dared to walk.

The women of the night were standing on the streets and corners in their nightly best but no one was giving them the time of day, which was rare. Alex leaned against a wall, outside the building of the first murder scene. When the street was clear, he slipped past the yellow tape and walked into the building. Running his gloved hand along the wooden railing along the stairs he closed his eyes and opened his senses. The vampire was a female. He could smell her perfume and her natural scent. The male was lust driven. She led him up the stairs with little to no effort and as he walked the stairs and got to the room he smelled sex, meaningless sex that was rough and heated, but slightly one sided. Looking at the blood stains on the wall he shook his head. The first kill she'd been desperate, starving. The male had screamed and cried out, which only spurred that aggression.

The room was gross and dingy, low class but that didn't matter when sex was involved. She'd allowed him to finish as he caught the faint scent of male musk. He doubted that was for a sense of pity, still it confused him. The killing had been brutal and messy. Moving to the bathroom he saw dried blood in the drain. She'd cleaned up and left not long after. Shaking his head he headed out of the window and used the rusted fire escape. Dropping down ten feet he landed on the cobblestone street, soundless landing despite his weight and the height of his fall. Moving down the street he went to the next two murder locations. Each one was in a prostitution house. Apartments that the night females used a lot for their clients. No room belonged to a single person, they were just open rooms for sex, so no one was linked to the murders. Each kill was just as brutal, but not as much mess as the first.

As he walked down the street he saw one prostitute who was a vampire. She was a slightly aged female, roughly a century or so. Walking over to her she glanced around a bit as she was nervous. A Shade approaching you was never a positive thing. However he held his hand up.
"I'm not here for you. You work these streets. Have you seen this female who's been decreasing your clients?"
The female shook her head.
"I smell her the moment the blood hits the air but the scent is so tarnished by all the other scents in the area it's hard to pin point her."
Sighing a bit Alex thanked her then told her to go inside. She didn't need to be told twice. Once she was gone he looked around a bit and noticed that it was getting close to morning. He'd have to wait. His best bet was catching her at night and looking around during the day would draw attention to himself.

Heading back to his hotel he sat in his room about an hour later and read over the newspaper clippings of the murders and threw away the ones he'd visited. She had to be noticing that human blood wasn't filling her. It took the edge off, but it wasn't completely sating her. Human blood wasn't strong enough to fully satisfy a vampires hunger, and as a youngling who was recently changed, she'd need to feed daily. So with her being so hungry and only killing human males, he had a feeling she'd be hunting tonight.

 

[MetalMelissa]

Her hunger was growing, or, to put it more accurately, the edge was wearing off. The first time she'd killed it had been in a fearful, desperate rage. She'd lain still while the dark-skinned tourist rutted between her open legs, and it wasn't until he filled the condom he wore that he noticed she was crying. The next minute or so existed only as a blur in her memory. She could recall the trepidation in his voice, his asking her if she was ok, but beyond that she could remember nothing but white rage streaked with red; the taste of flesh and blood in her mouth as she bit through tendons, veins, arteries and more to get to that which she craved. She didn't understand her urges and was terrified by her own wrath, but god the high was good. She almost orgasmed during her feed, and afterwards she wondered if that was normal. In the end, she decided that nothing was normal. Figures of myth and lore had stepped from the pages of fiction to transform her into something wicked, and she struggled not to embrace the evil that she had become. Such was the curse of one who nothing of what she had become.

It was five days until she killed again, though the interval between those murders may well have been shorter were it not for the reports in newspapers all along Via Cappella Bianca telling of the violent act that only she knew she had been a part of. By turns it both horrified and numbed her, leaving her fearful of herself and for herself. Murder was not something she had ever deemed herself capable of, but—she realised—she was no longer the woman she knew. Whoever she was now—or whatever she was—Aurelia Kostantinovna Krupskaya was no more. On the second day she overdosed, and when she came to she found that her nose had bled profusely onto her cheek and upper lip. That small bump was enough to make it through the days that followed, but did little to fight off fears for her freedom and mortality. It did occasionally cross her mind that maybe—just maybe—she was now immortal, but what use was immortality if you were serving a life sentence for homicide?

She was with a client when the rage came again. He was another tourist, a British man by the name of James, and by Aurelia's standards he was very sweet. His only shortcoming was a penchant for being bitten, and when his skin broke and fresh blood came in contact with her tongue she felt the rush again, dug her teeth deep into his flesh, and provoked him into jerking away. The crazed look in her eyes elicited a sudden fear in the unfortunate fellow, but the sight of her snarling maw was worst of all. She had had days to come to terms with the elongated fangs which were now stained with his blood, but to James they were a sudden shock. He panicked, and here again her memory became blurred, clearing only to the sight of his lifeless body and the wide, dead eyes that seemed as though they would haunt her forever more. When the high wore off she paced frantically back and forth, eventually dressing and fleeing the scene, shaken to the bone by the knowledge that her DNA would already be in the possession of the Polizia di Stato, and that now she could be held accountable for two murders.

Via Cappella Bianca was crawling with police the following night. It had taken almost twenty-four hours for the body to be discovered, and already journalists were throwing around the word 'Ripper,' whipping the public into a frenzy all in a bid to sell more papers. She went into hiding, feigned the same emotions as the other streetwalkers whenever she came into contact with them, and spent two of the next four days without any coke to take the edge of her paranoia. She needed something then, and in the end it was blood—not snow—that would sate her cravings.

Her third victim was a Firenze native: a boy of fifteen who had decided to celebrate his birthday by losing his virginity. He'd been awfully nervous, and his timidity drew out the burgeoning predator within her. She prowled around the bed with narrowed, lustful eyes, drinking in his slender, youthful body before peeling off her clothes and stalking up the mattress between his legs. Had she not been in such a bloodlust she might have been impressed at her own restraint when she chose not to kill him after he climaxed quickly in her mouth, and if she had done one good deed since the change it was surely that she had ridden him before she sank her teeth into his neck and tore out his throat.

By now, sex and killing were quickly becoming connected in the depths of her psyche, and so it was that her fourth victim was taken much like the balding man: she called him in from the street, braving even the chance of been seen by another, and had him take her over and over again as she fed on him. He got off on it too, even called her a 'vampy bitch' without realising the truth of his words. She bit his neck sharply and suckled on the wound as he drove his manhood into her heated sex, their naked bodies cavorting one against the other until in the midst of orgasm she bit too hard, blacked out for a moment, and came to to the sound of him screaming. He cursed at her, called her a crazy bitch and a psychopath, and swung at her when she pounced on him. She'd felt so powerful then, and when at last he lay lifeless on the floor she didn't feel as bad as she had on the prior occasions.

Aurelia had grown up with vampire stories, had seen them represented in films, and in all of the myths they were foul, vile creatures. When the newly-turned vampire had fresh blood inside her, it seemed only natural to behave in a similar manner. There were no rules anymore, no moral imperative to view murder as an act never to be engaged in. Now there was only the lust for blood, and if murder was the means by which to acquire that blood then so be it. Of course, things were not so cut-and-dry when she was sober. Parts of Aurelia came back then to object to the heinous acts that she had committed. Her power over the body in which she resided was growing weak, though, and the urge to kill in turn grew stronger. She couldn't wait the way she could a week ago, or perhaps she just didn't want to. Perhaps she was just losing her mind. The thought made her laugh, and the laugh made her wonder if this wasn't all just a way to protect her mind from snapping completely. She grew solemn. Her mind turned, her lip quivered, and she swallowed dryly.

No. I need to do it again.

Half in fearful resignation, half in wanton desire, she rose from the bed of another dingy whorehouse apartment building and prepared to walk the streets again. Perhaps tonight she'd really have some fun. Perhaps tonight she'd do something a little more public.​

 

[PatientOne]

The following night Alex noticed a heavy fog had fallen on the city which made him smile. It really set the tone for the murders that had happened as well as gave perfect cover for him and any vampire in the city. Stepping into the room of the third murder Alex felt his lips peel up over long fangs as he wasn't too fond of the idea of her killing a child. That was a serious offense in the vampire world since children were treasured given how rare it was for a vampire to have a child. Leaving the scene without tracking the female from there he got to the fourth murder sight not long after the police had left. The blood there was still moderately fresh.

Stepping past the yellow tape he ran his gloved finger along some of the blood on the wall and waved it under his nose before licking his finger. Making a face he spat the blood out of the window and grimaced. How did she drink that stuff? Giving a full bodied shiver he looked around and as he looked around he found some hair from the female. Lifting the hair he sniffed it. That's what he'd been looking for. A direct link to her.

"Hey. You're not supposed to be here!"
Alex turned his pale blue eyes on the female officer pointing a flashlight and gun at him. Pocketing the hair he looked at her as he stood up and as she lifted the gun he moved faster than any human eye could track. Getting behind her he flicked the back of her head and caught her as she slumped. Human's were such weak creatures. Propping the female up against the wall by the door he made sure she was good there before he walked out of the building. Walking down the alley off to the right he pulled the hair out of his pocket and lifted it to his nose. Taking a deep inhale of the hair he memorized the scent of the female. Looking up at the moss covered brick wall of the building in front of him he crouched down as the muscles in his legs tensed and he jumped to the roof in one shot.

Landing on the roof lightly he fixed his coat and looked around, his eyes glowing as he focused on the scents around him as if they were colors. Looking for the one scent that was thick with blood lust, violence, and tainted with drugs. Honing in on that scent took him about five minutes. When he found it he concentrated on the spot in the city. Opening his mind to that place and finding a secluded spot he ported himself there, taking shape in an alley off of the street. Walking out into the busy street he followed his nose and stopped at the corner of a less busy street. The population of this street wasn't as much as the rest of the city, but it seemed that his target was getting more bold. The idea of not being able to die by traditional means made humans feel powerful. No surprise there.

Leaning against the rough stone wall to his right he put his hands in his pockets and watched the direction the female's scent was coming from. He'd let her snag a human, then he'd follow them. When she got said human to her desired spot, he'd interrupt her.

 

[MetalMelissa]

By night the Parco delle Cascine was dimly lit. Stylised electric lights designed after old oil lamps stood atop black-painted poles along the main walkways, but elsewhere there was only the light of the moon and stars to aid one's path through the park. The fog here was lighter than in some other areas of the city, but still the Earth's celestial night lights were seen hazily from the ground, and about the street lights the fog gave the impression of a ghostly ectoplasm clinging to the tops of the poles. Splendid by sunlight, the park took on a seedier character by night; drug-dealers and prostitutes gathered here, a walking embodiment of much that was wrong the socio-political outlook of Firenze and the Western world at large.

Little more than an hour remained before the strike of midnight when the Cappella Bianca ripper stepped through one of the lesser entrances to the park and cut a swathe through the fog. There was a freshly-washed lustre to her long, dark hair, and its ends bounced lightly about her shoulders as she walked, white high heels clicking softly on the paving stones. Likewise, the end of her fur-lined, knee-length jacket swished softly around her legs, smooth and lean, and bare to the cool night air. She didn't feel the cold the way she used to; she was aware of it, certainly, but she no longer felt the spread of chill throughout her body, or felt the urge to wrap up and get indoors. Her flesh didn't even break out in goose pimples anymore.

Past the park's miniature amphitheatre, where in the evenings one would frequently find renditions of Shakespearean, Sophoclean, or Euripidean plays, to name a few, she found a quaint floral garden lined with wooden benches and stone risings in which various floral arrangements were laid. At its centre, a short, wide fountain stood, its quiet babbling blending in with the muted sounds of the city that carried through the tall trees around the park's perimeter, and across the open spaces between there and here. She spied two others in close proximity: a young man who offered to sell her drugs (she ignored him entirely), and another young woman clad so scantily that she too must have been in search of male clientèle.

Taking up a position diagonally opposite the other woman—placing the entire space of the garden between them—she leaned back against one of the stone risings and bent her right knee, placing the sole of her heeled foot against its front. There she lit up a cigarette and lay in wait, her jacket open to bare the short, low-cut red dress she wore beneath. The garment was form-fitting, snugly clinging to the gentle curve of her breasts and hips, and its hem barely covered her ass.

The first man to pass ignored the advances of both she and the other woman, and despite her best efforts to cajole them a young couple also passed through the garden and off into the night. She tried her luck with a group of young men, and though they flirted with her they did no more, explaining that they were on their way to a bar. The young vampire grit her teeth and returned to her post, but she could feel her patience wearing thin. She needed to feed, felt the hunger weaken her, irritate her.

This wasn't how it felt to go too long without a regular high, though the irritability was certainly similar. It occurred to her that the blood wasn't so much a drug as it was sustenance, and that without it she would only grow weaker and weaker. She'd need to kill more regularly than before—perhaps even nightly. She might need to move city, or find somewhere that she could hole up and keep a meal for days at a time, slowly draining them until their veins were dry.

The vestiges of Aurelia Krupskaya despaired once more at what she'd become, but the vampiric hunger was greater. She scanned her environment once more, considered luring her fellow streetwalker into the bushes, and finally settled her gaze on the young man who had offered her drugs. He wore baggy jeans and a zip-front hoodie, and a banged up skateboard lay at his feet. His face, unshaven and pock-marked even from a distance, was illuminated by the light of phone into which he was typing a message. It didn't occur to her that she ought not to have been able to pick out the details of his face this clearly in the dim light; her only thought was of the veins and arteries in his neck, and the strength-sapping hunger that screamed within her.

The man looked up when she approached, and she smiled, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Changed your mind?" he asked. She smirked.

"Maybe. What you got?"

He shrugged, and drew himself upright. At full height he was no taller than she was, even an inch or two shorter owing to her heels. He glanced askance before answering her.

"Coke, speed, hash," he told her.

"How much for just a bump?"

"Just a bump?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. She smiled in response, nodded slowly, and took another step closer to him.

"Just a bump. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"Gesù, you must be desperate," the man laughed. His gave her all the information she needed to know.

"Just be quiet and follow me."

She led him only a few feet behind the tree line, pressed her red-painted lips to his, and wasted little time in unbuttoning his jeans. His manhood was semi-erect, but grew quickly in her hand as she began to tug on him, pushing his trousers down and letting them fall around his ankles. Just a few yards away someone passed into the garden, but she paid them no more heed than a brief glance in the direction of their footsteps.

"Just a bump?" he asked again, moaning as she worked her hand along his burgeoning length.

"Shut up and turn around."

He did so, his hips straining as she stroked his now fully-erect penis, its heat in her hand a stark contrast to the chill air around them. She stood behind him now, tightened her grip and leaned in to kiss his neck, to feel the heat of his flesh against her lips, and to smile and bare her fangs. This time there was no blacking out, and no rage. This time she felt in control, even as she bowed to the hunger. One hand stroking the dealer's stiff cock, she brought her other to his face and turned his head to one side, baring his neck so that she might lean in and sink her fangs into his flesh.​

 

[PatientOne]

Standing off to the side he watched as the female headed into a fairly empty park, her scent was unmistakable. She was clean that was for sure, freshly bathed but her natural scent was not easily covered. Seeing the attire she was wearing he assumed that she'd been a street whore when she was bitten and simply left like that, which was a shame and made him want to find her original sire. Fingering a glass vial in his pocket, it held about a pint of Noble vampire blood. It was less powerful than his own blood but it would feed her, giving her the sustenance she'd need for the night. The reason he kept it in a vial was because the taste and affects would be like she just fed from the holy grail.

Her body would be sated, her strength would return and she'd get the little high that all vampires get on their first real feed. Walking into the park he sat on a bench behind the female and simply watched her. He could feel her tension and smell the hunger coming off of her. Watching as client after client passed and didn't pay her mind, he could see the frustration in her body language. She was tense, bordering on aggressive. When he saw her heading for the drug dealer he sighed a bit and sat back on the bench. He let her do her thing, seducing or coercing the male with her own little methods. When she got him to a private area, Alex stood up from the bench and walked over.

She had the male's back to her and was currently stroking a raging erection while getting ready to bite. Alex simply reached up and shoved the male, throwing him out of her grasp as he kept that hand out of his pocket. When the male turned around to see Alex, Alex just reached behind him and drew a blade.

The little punk of a dealer yanked his pants up and took off like he had hell at his heels. Sheathing his blade Alex looked at the female for a moment and sighed, shaking his head as his eyes focused on hers and began to glow like someone flipped a light switch behind his pale blue orbs.

"Killing humans relentlessly has gained you a lot of attention youngling. Our race is not fond of individuals who draw this much attention. However, since you're Sire chose to leave..."

Reaching into his pocket he pulled the vile and popped the cork, allowing the strong aroma of the blood to fill the air around her.

"Drink this. Human blood will not give you the strength you need. It's not strong enough. It'll take the edge off, but you're killing...we don't need to kill to feed."

Holding the vial out to her his eyes slowly stopped glowing. He wasn't sure if she'd be able to tell that he was way out of her league in terms of her fighting him. If she tried, she'd find out what concrete tasted like. Either way, she'd learn that attacking him was not the wisest move she'd made that night.

 

[MetalMelissa]

With her eyes closed and her every sense focused on the man she held, the fledgling killer never heard the approach of the Shade. At first there was heat and pleasured moans, and her every fibre was primed for her release from hunger with a single, delectable bite; a moment later the force of her meal stumbling from her grasp. Her eyes opened and she snapped her head towards where he was falling, turning, gazing past her with a mixture of anger and confusion in his surprised eyes. They widened in fear and she turned to follow them, rage beginning to rise within her as she looked upon the dark-clothed figure who would dare to rob her of that which she needed most.

Now every fibre of her being tensed in anticipation of attack; her lips hung slightly ajar, her chest rose and fell deliberately, and she seethed upon the stranger—but something held her in check. Still the fire within curled her hands into fists, and still she felt the urge to murder him where he stood, but an unnameable feeling kept her rooted to the spot, wrathful eyes transfixed upon him even as she heard the frantic fumbling of her would-be victim clambering to clothe himself and flee, not taking the time to do one before the other.

"You will pay for that," she snarled, pressing her fingers into her palms. Since the change there had been much that she failed to understand, and why she didn't pounce upon her victim's saviour right then and there was the latest. Her senses had changed, in many ways had become more animalistic, but here she was frozen between fight and flight, too angry to engage the latter, held from the former by some new sensation.

"Killing humans relentlessly has gained you a lot of attention youngling. Our race is not fond of individuals who draw this much attention..."

Steely aggression lingering in her features, the streetwalker-turned-nightwalker felt her breath catch a moment, and when it returned it came more slowly than before. Our race... Did he say our race?

She found herself with little time to reflect, blank fascination smoothing out the creasing of her features at the sight and scent of the vial that the stranger produced. For one fleeting moment her eyes flickered upwards, akin to the final glance of an animal who has been deliberating over whether or not to accept a proffered gift. Then she snatched it from him with both hands and gazed into the thick, sanguine liquid. She scarcely heard his words, and comprehended them even less. The bottled blood smelled divine, set her nerves to tingling, and bringing it to her lips she tilted back her head and gorged herself upon it.

Her first taste of vampire blood was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, perhaps vaguely similar to her first meal since the change, but so amplified that it was hardly comparable. Her entire body seemed to grow warm, her head swam, and her rage and hunger faded to a blissful sensation that touched even the private spot between her thighs. She gave a sated sigh as she drank down her feed, half-emptying the vial before a short-lived dizziness made her stop.

"Who are you?" she asked, still clutching the vial in one hand. Her eyes were wide with fascination, and the green in her eyes grew more vibrant. She was smiling too, not warmly or in greeting, but with the delight of a hitherto unfelt pleasure. It was the kind of smile one might expect from a mental patient, one fed by private delusions and a sense of the discovery of some great unknown secret. Tilting her head to inspect him, she narrowed her eyes again and scrutinised Alexander, her sense of wonder giving way to cautious curiosity when she discerned that this was not the one who turned her.​

 

[PatientOne]

Alex simply put his hand back in his pocket after she swiped the vial and drank from it. He watched and felt her noticeable change in body tension and aggression. His face stayed the same with stoic features but he nodded as she seemed to be better off from the vampire blood that he'd given her. He even caught the faint scent of arousal. Snorting at that he wiggled his nose simply because she seemed to mix murder with sex, not something he found to be a good habit. When she pulled the vial away from her lips and he saw her sway on her feet he rolled his shoulders as she asked who he was.

"I'm kin. Someone has turned you, most likely without your knowledge let alone your permission. I'm here to tell you that while it doesn't seem like it, you're breaking laws that our race has. Slaughtering humans happens to be one of those laws. Everything you've seen in movies or read about in books, that's bullshit. We do our best to stay hidden and you're hindering that, putting our race at risk. So, our Queen has sent me to speak with you and offer to train you. Should you refuse and wish to continue this strain of violence, I've been ordered to execute you."

As he spoke of killing her, there was no hint of emotion showing her that killing her for the better of his race was not something he'd have a problem doing.

"Also, I'd avoid threatening me little one. You're threats have about as much meaning to me as a box full of kittens. You have about as much chance in killing me as an ant. Your body wouldn't allow you to move because your instincts, despite how young they are, were telling your body that attacking someone like me was a very deadly mistake."

Walking around her he looked out at the streets seeing that they were emptying out a bit, showing that it was rather early in the morning hours now. Keeping his attention on the road, he spoke.

"So. You have two choices. Train to understand our laws and your own vampire body...or die here and now. You can in fact die by the way. Removing your head from your shoulders is an instant death for any vampire. However it's much easier to remove yours than it is mine."

He said as he looked back at her and stood up straight, looking at her as he waited for her reaction. Naturally self preservation instincts would tell her to train. Unfortunately, the ego of being able to kill at will and not die tended to make young vampires think they were gods, tell an older vampire came and reminded them that there was always someone stronger.

 

[MetalMelissa]

Without her permission was an understatement. The last moments of her human life that she could recall had been spent in a drug-induced haze brought on by something that her inhuman client had offered her. She'd demanded payment in cash when he offered her something other than money, but it hadn't taken much persuasion for her to accept both. Once insufflated the drug had made her head spin, had robbed her of control over her muscles and motor skills, and the last thing she remembered before he sank his teeth into her neck was the silhouette of his naked body looming over her.

She touched her neck as Alexander told her of laws, man-made bullshit, and threatened her with execution. The flesh there was flawless now, devoid of any markings that might act as a signature of her transformation. The dizziness had faded too, and though her current situation was a surreal one, she drank again from the hefty vial and felt that same sensation of delight and satisfaction. After all that had happened to her over the past fortnight—after all that she had done—surreality was quickly becoming the norm. What she once thought myth was now reality, if different from the myth in numerous ways. Everything that she had thought important in life seemed insignificant in unlife, though she no longer knew if undead was even an appropriate term for what she had become. She had never seen Underworld, never read Anne Rice or any of her derivations, and so the concept of a vampire society was completely alien to her. To top it all off, this society apparently possessed trained assassins, a queen, and presumably rogue vampires who did not do as they were told. It briefly occurred to her that whoever had turned her might well lose his head at some point in the future, if he hadn't already.

It felt equally absurd that this haughty stranger seemed to know what she had been feeling without having to be told, especially when she herself did not understand her own urges and sensations. If he was knowledgeable, he did not strike her as being particularly modest. She was not privy to the same understanding of law and society as he was, had no idea of the turmoil her actions had caused, and as such had little hope of seeing the larger picture. To her his character stopped at haughty stranger, with perhaps the addition of the word 'dangerous.'

"A charming dilemma," she replied, still clutching the now quarter-full vial in one hand. A week ago she might well have agreed to having her head removed, if only to bring an end to the torment through which she was going. Now, however, she was at least beginning to come to terms with her new life, and at present the fresh blood in her system was acting very much like a life-affirming drug... or an addicting one. Still, she did not fully trust the older vampire, no matter how much her instincts told her that he was probably acting in good faith.

"And if I run? Will you slay me in the open?" she asked, a slight smirk curling one corner of her red lips. "Seems like that would only draw more attention."​

 

[PatientOne]

Alex continued to watch the youngling and like ALL younglings, she didn'y quite realize his power over her own. To her, she was stronger and faster than a human which was true. However that was not something to brag about in the vampire society. It was like a human saying that they were stronger than a bug. Good for you...so is everyone else. Watching as she rubbed her neck almost subconsciously he knew that it had been the spot where she'd been bitten.

As she took another sip of the vial Alex could almost hear the gears in her mind turning as she thought over everything and while he was in no rush, this wasn't exactly a hard decision to make. Live or die. Simply and clear. Yet here she was debating it like he'd just asked her to solve the human's world hunger problem. When she looked at him he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"You'd be dead before you turned to run child. You move faster than a human...congratulations. So does the rest of our race. However, I'm faster than you are and faster than you ever will be. Not only have I been trained for it, but I'm also a Pure Blood. You're a human that someone turned. Your body is still human which means that there is a certain limit to your abilities."

As he said this his body vanished from sight and within the blink of an eye he was behind her with the sharp tip of his blade pointing out and touching the back of her neck.

"Running would not help you. You wouldn't even make it past the line of the bush, so I'm not concerned about a human seeing you die. Plus too, you've made quite a mess already in killings, this would just be one more death. My Queen left it up to me to let you live and learn or die. You're not helping me make a decision beneficial to your health child."

 

[MetalMelissa]

The Pureblood may have been lacking in the humour department, but his physical capabilities were startling. As of yet, the young vampire had little idea of the true extent of her own abilities, let alone those of a vampire as old as Alexander, and the speed with which he moved was enough to shock her into silence. Every fibre in her body tensed in an instant, and she knew then that now was not the time for games. In spite of the power she'd embraced tonight, in spite of the revitalising effect of three quarters of a pint of noble blood now circulating her system, she felt for a moment as helpless as she had when she'd first come face-to-face with the reality that there were things in this world to fear as only children fear. In short, she felt irrepressibly small and powerless.

The moment passed, and she slowly lifted her arms akimbo and turned to face the one who had been sent for her. Her emotions toiled at the prospect of the uncertain journey ahead; her accommodation in Firenze was scarcely something dear to her heart—a single room she'd already abandoned, and a series of similar whorehouse rooms in the same locale—but still it was home. If she had to leave it all behind and set out on her own that was be one thing, but accompanying this stranger to god-knows-where was something completely different. Unsettling as it was, there was now little room for discussion.

"Ok," she said as she turned, her voice quiet, cautious. "I'll come."​

 

[PatientOne]

Alex removed the blade from her neck and sheathed it behind him, he then straightened his coat and looked around a bit. Taking her out of her home area and into a new place would not only boost her anxiety but it would also cause unnecessary stress on her. Sighing he looked back towards his hotel.

"Come on. For now, we'll stay in this area. This is your place of birth, I'm assuming you're comfortable here. So you'll be staying in my hotel. No killing of humans. If you kill a human, I kill you. Human's are not needed for feeding. The blood, as you can now see, is not needed. If you want them for fun or sex that's fine. Avoid killing them or telling them what you are."

He said as he looked at the vial. She'd need to feed tomorrow too, which meant that he'd either need to feed her or he'd need to get another vial of Noble blood. Either way, he wasn't really wanting to give her his blood because if she thought she got a high from the Noble's blood, Pure Blood's blood was like crack on steroids. It not only gave that pleasurable high, but it would also boost their power for a short period of time.

"I'm staying a few miles away. Hold still."
He said as he placed his hand on her shoulder and soon the world around her began to spin in a rapid whirlwind of smoke and lights. For what felt like minutes she'd feel like her body was suspended in the air while the world spun around her. Suddenly the ground was under her feet and she was standing in a luxury hotel room. There was a black leather couch to her right, a fake fire place in front of it and Alex was removing his hand from her shoulder.

"It's called porting. Pure Blood's have the ability to cross massive distances in a short period of time by dematerializing our bodies as well as anything we're touching. If you feel light headed, it's just because your body moved too fast for it's liking."

 

[MetalMelissa]

She opened her mouth to rebuke the claim of Firenze being her place of birth, then quickly realised what he meant and shut it again. Alex's threats may have simply been precautionary, but he'd shown himself to be straight, and a small part of her wondered if he didn't keep that sword stored up his butt. In truth, Aurelia's home was miles to the east in the Ukrainian city of Berdyansk. Firenze was as comfortable as whatever bed she happened to be sleeping in on a given night, and there had been nights many years ago when she hadn't had even a bed to sleep on. If the uncertain journey ahead made her anxious, prolonging the trip did little to set her at ease. Neither did the otherworldly method of transportation.

Finding herself suddenly in a strange hotel room when just a moment prior she'd been standing outdoors, she once again became overwhelmed. Her head span, and the room itself seemed to shift and rotate so that she stumbled towards the large bed that formed the centrepiece of the room. Her knees buckled beneath her and the vial slipped from her grasp. Blackness became her world for mere seconds, and when she came to she was lying on her back with the bed beneath her, her knees bent over its edge with her feet on the floor, and the vial of blood was safe and secure in Alex's grasp. Her chest rose and fell heavily, again she felt an all too human panic well and subside, and when it passed she began to laugh like a crazy person—not guffawing aloud, but laughing in a broken, almost hysterical fashion. Vampires were real, and they could teleport. Did she really know that the past two weeks had happened as she experienced them? Was it not possible that she had simply lost her mind?

Her laughter was short-lived, and when it ceased she lay with her hands half-covering her face, and delirious smile upon her lips. She grinned up at her companion, got her first real look at him and found him attractive; her mind recoiled from the potential threat he might pose, and instead objectified him as nothing more than a sexual object. Slowly and instinctively she parted her legs, stretching her dress taut across the gap between her supple thighs. She squirmed, felt another laugh rise in her throat and let it silently stretch her grin as she exhaled through her nose. She wondered to herself if vampires could fuck, as though the past fortnight hadn't taught her the answer to that.

"Do you know what I do for a living?" she asked coyly, her voice dripping with a sultry warmth.​

 

[PatientOne]

Alex held the vial and simply put the cork back in its place as he removed his coat and pulled his shoulder harness off, setting his blade down on the table. When her creepy laughing fit hit he ignored it and simply pulled out his phone, shooting a text to the Noble male asking him for a few more vials of his blood. The male agreed an said that they would be ready by morning. Funny enough, the blood she'd had was a day or so old so it wasn't as potent as it could have been coming from the source, which was why it was in the vial.

She needed to slowly ease into the feeling that came with feeding rather than getting blood drunk and risking injury to herself and another vampire. When her laughing seemed to have stopped he looked over at her and walked to the foot of the bed where he noticed how she was looking at him and this caused him to raise an eyebrow. Shaking his head he looked at her in pity more than arousal.

"Yes I do. Now, allow me to enlighten you on some things. I'm over five hundred years old and seen every shape, size and race of street whore. You're nothing new, there are plenty of human males that would love to have you in this hotel. Avoid killing them, don't tell them what you are, and no feeding. Those are my rules."

Did he find her attractive? Yes he did. She was a lovely female. However she was also a drug addicted female and he was seriously questioning her sanity. He still wasn't sure if it would just be nicer to her if he just killed her. However, he'd see how she did over the coming days. Looking at his watch he sighed.

"You'll need to feed again by noon tomorrow. Be sure to be back to this room by then, the room number is 324. Don't wonder too far from the hotel and don't make me come searching for you."

 

[MetalMelissa]

The rejection was sobering. The older vampire's stoic, matter-of-fact demeanour brought her back down to earth, and after her brief delirium everything seemed real again, at least in a material sense. She was in the strange hotel room, and she was looking up at the man who had fed her what he claimed was blood of some non-human variety. Its coppery taste still lingered at the back of her mouth, and whatever it was it had certainly sated her hunger. She wondered what it was but spoke no more; instead she cautiously sat upright, and blinking she slid back an inch or two from her companion.

For a moment she wondered who he really was, where he came from, what he did by day—or by night, presumably. Her familiarity with popular fiction had thus far inhibited her from discovering the true effects of the sun on her kind; prolonged periods in the light would weaken her, but she wouldn't petrify and flake away into ashes like innumerable representations of Count Dracula. She wondered too what he intended to do with her, and when, but her wariness was such that she was quick to take advantage of him letting her leave. She nodded a series of short, quick nods, and with caution still marking her every move she stood and moved towards the door, at all times facing him and keeping her distance.

In the hallway her pace quickened, and by the time she made it to the hotel lobby she was running. Out into the street she went, raven locks streaming behind her, taking care not to lose her balance or step too violently into a crack or crevice that might break a heel and then her ankle. By the time she came to a stop she was two blocks away, out of breath from fear or exertion. She turned a corner and squared her back to the wall, closed her eyes and let her head lean back against the stoney surface behind her.

What the fuck was that?! Since the change she had feared herself more than any other, but now she had undeniable proof that there were others in the world to be feared more than she—if indeed her own perception of reality could be trusted. Tonight wasn't the first time she'd questioned her own sanity, and she doubted it would be the last. Human minds are often too fragile to comprehend the existence of vampires, and this in part was why they went to such lengths to keep their existence a secret, and to ensure that humans were not turned without due care and good reason. Whatever about the creature she had become, Aurelia Krupskaya the human was by now fit for an indefinite stay in a psychiatric ward. Of course, if she were to check herself in and tell the doctors of vampires and teleportation she would never be let out.

Over the course of the next hour she wandered aimlessly through the city, and by the time she decided what must be done she had gravitated towards her apartment on Via Cappella Bianca. Keeping one eye out for any policeman who might show an interest in her, she crept inside and rooted out a suitcase, proceeding to pack it with some of the more nondescript items of clothing that the police had refrained from taking from her drawers and wardrobe. Next she went back to the scene of her last murder, the apartment on Via Pratese where she hoped to find a few more of her belongings, and more importantly what cash she had remaining.

A foul smell greeted her when she entered, and flies buzzed around the corpse of her fifth victim where she'd left it slumped in the corner. She should really have been more diligent when it came to the disposal of bodies, but it was difficult to find a place to dump them in the city, and without a car she had no clandestine means of transporting them from one location to another. Moreover, her thoughts had not been so clear over the past fortnight as to breed discretion.

Gathering her things and stuffing them into the briefcase, she counted out her money and returned to the street, locking the door behind her again. The body would be found soon, no doubt, but by then she would be long gone. To where she knew not, nor with what goal. The only thing she knew was that she had to get away from Firenze, and away from whatever unknown it was that Alexander wished to drag her into. More than him, it was the not knowing that scared her.​

~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Across the street, two pale, amber-coloured eyes watched the young vampire leave the apartment building, clad now in snug-fitting jeans and flat-soled shoes, her fur-lined jacket closed around her feminine figure. Even from a distance their owner could tell that she was unsettled, and those eyes narrowed at the sight of the briefcase. The one sent to see to her had let his guard down, and now she was fleeing. Perhaps this was a sign that the Shade vampire was tiring of routine, or that his mind was elsewhere. The watcher could only hope.

Once the Cappella Bianca Ripper had rounded a corner and disappeared from sight, the watching figure glanced left and right, saw that the streets were empty, and dropped five stories to the path below. Heavy boots slammed against the pavement but their owner made no utterances of pain, instead simply making their way across the street to carve a single word into the door through which Aurelia had left. The letters were small but legible, and once they had been inscribed the watcher turned to follow the young vampire as she made her way by foot to the bus station. By midnight she would be on her way out of Firenze, and it would be up to Alexander Night to track her down once more. If he happened to check the location of the fifth murder before leaving the city, he would find his own surname carved into the door.

Come daybreak the following morning, the headlines in all the papers read: Ripper Strikes Again. The body of Aurelia's fifth victim had been discovered.​

 

[PatientOne]

Alex knew that she would leave the moment she started to dance around him like he was a grenade. So when she left he simply sat on a chair and sent a message to the Noble. Telling him not to worry about the blood just yet. 'Keep it in a cooler.' He told the male as he leaned back in the chair. He'd let her run simply because the more people she killed, the higher her name crawled on the execution list and since he'd told her what NOT to do, if she went against him in that, he'd have a much easier time in killing her and just chalking her up to an insane changling that didn't deserve to be turned. A mercy killing.

Not even bothering to go and look for her for the rest of the night he left it up to her to see if common sense and the will to live would bring her back. When morning came and she wasn't there Alex sighed. Putting his sword back on his shoulders he pulled his jacket back on and closed his eyes. Porting himself to the Queen's office he saw her look up at him looking a bit confused then sighed as well.
"She run?"
"Yes. I informed her of her crimes and what she needed to do, but she decided to run regardless."

The Queen nodded as she stood up and walked around her desk, smoothing out her now white sun dress as she leaned against the edge of her desk.
"What are your thoughts?"
"Off of first glance? She had no idea who turned her. I didn't sense a male scent on her but that may have been from all of the other males she'd been with. She was a street whore. Makes pin pointing a Sire a lot harder. She killed for the high of it. Realizing that she was in fact stronger than a human. A power trip. So based off of that, I'd say she deserves a reality check."

Which in Alex's mind, that meant death. However the Queen wasn't as quick to death as a Shade was.
"Find her. Teach her a lesson yes, but the kind she can live from. Remind her that there are those stronger than herself out in this world and that crime has to be repaid."
Alex was a little annoyed by that simply because he had a feeling she wouldn't learn anyways. Still he nodded and ported himself back to the hotel room. He checked out of the hotel then headed down the street. Her hair still in his pocket he took a deep breath then closed his eyes.

Opening his senses to the world around him he stood in an alley way and systematically searched through the winds for her scent. It took him a lot longer this time, roughly about an hour of focusing on the scent and weeding through the mixtures that had been around her. When he got a lock on her location he ported himself to a hidden area in the general vicinity.

Taking shape in an abandoned building he looked around for a moment then stepped out of the building and saw that he was in a different area. Now the question was, where was his target? Rolling his shoulders and his neck Alex decided that a simple ass beating would take care of things and show her just how hilariously out matched she was when she was facing off against a Shade.