Till Death Do Us Part (Grim x Lux)

[Saint Grime]

The sound of waves and seagulls echoed through the hall of an abandoned warehouse, run down and rusted by neglect. Twilight pierced through the broken windows, dimly illuminating the insides of the enclosure. Its worn out metallic beams made it appear as if the brick structure would collapse without warning. On the floor littered with puddles of rain and mud, were two men, bound and blindfolded to one these beams in the center of the space. Their cries for help were muffled by the strip of duct tape over their mouths and they sat still, knowing that being rescued was hopeless. A sudden metallic bang pierced the hall, blowing in the whistling of the wind and the sounds of the sea and birds. Both men frantically shook their head knowing the main door was opened. Heavy footsteps approached the pair along with the sound of something large being dragged. Their heads were focused on the source as it drew nearer; their faces beginning to sweat and mumbles growing louder as fear creeped in. It was their captor, a large man dressed in a black trench coat with heavy boots cladding his feet. By the looks of him, he wasn’t someone to be taken lightly with his brutish physique and a staggering height of more than a foot above average. He dragged along with him a large withered coffin, turned into hues of charcoal from the blows of time. The coffin was set next to a table between it and the captives. Running his large palm over the inscriptions on the cover he uttered in a low voice, “It has been too long master.” A few minutes later sounds of objects being shuffled made the captives tenser, with their legs trembling and minds thinking of the worst. However, nothing happened and a while later the footsteps began to grow faint, until the same bang was heard, and silence once more took over.​

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Palpitations forced Demetrius’ eyes to jolt open with confusion and weakness clouding his mind. His arms were crossed over his chest, body bare and shriveled like a corpse. He felt something run down his throat and something attached to his arm as sensations in his body slowly returned. Rising from the coffin, the living corpse like man stood up and stared around in confusion. His crimson hues locked upon bags of blood that lay on the table in front of him. Tubes from these bags were connected to him, one running down his throat and other attached to his arm. Viciously pulling them out, he leaned on the table, barely being able to stand up. The blood spilled on the floor under him, and some got on the table from Demetrius’ coughs. “Where am I?” He thought, but before he could house more confusing thoughts like this, he was overcome with an insatiable hunger, a feeling he was all too familiar with. The veins in his body popped out from under the pale wrinkled skin and his nails grew sharper like claws that dug into the wooden table. The palpitations grew along with the hunger and he lurched at the blood bags, biting into them with large fangs like a rabid animal. This felt different, the material and drinking blood like this, but Demetrius was too hungry to care. As the bags were drained, the man seemed to have gained more mass, as if he were healing. His chin and chest were dripping with the crimson fluid, but he didn’t seem to care.​

Now that his hunger was toned down a bit, a series of thoughts came to him. “What happened?... What year is it?... What is this strange place?” Demetrius had no sense of time except for knowing it was night from the lack of light in the space surrounding him. By now his flesh had become firmer and skin a bit smoother but he needed a lot more to regenerate his body completely. With the strength gained, his senses were returning to their normal state, more sharpened and sensitive than that of a human. It was then that he heard heartbeats and raging breaths. The captives were listening to this and trembling with fear, not knowing what sort of animal had been unleashed. Moments later screams echoed through the abandoned warehouse and then died down in the night.​

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It was twilight again, the night gone and what was left at the scene was the body of one of the captives, cold and drained of blood. The table and floor lay splattered with stains of a horrifying event. The other man was set free, but he still sat on floor next to the beam, too scared to make a move. He looked pale and weak and had a deep but small cut on his wrist that was bleeding slowly. He was applying pressure on it with a small towel. Standing next to him was Demetrius, now transformed from a corpse like figure to a handsome man, with a lithe and carved out frame. His hair was wavy with streaks of deep brown and dark gold that went to his shoulders and face decorated with brown hair. He looked young, like a man in his late twenties. “These clothes are so strange but comfortable.” He spoke while buttoning down his navy-blue shirt in a surprisingly friendly way for the monster he was, which made him more terrifying. He had an accent that showed he was not from this place. It seemed that the man who dragged his coffin here and arrange for all of this also arranged for fresh clothes, a pair of shoes, a towel to clean up and a wine glass. This was someone who cared for Demetrius and had yet to reveal himself after performing such a service. “I must say, Jonathan, if it weren’t for you, it would have taken me some time to make sense of this new world. I have been asleep for so long.” Demetrius’ eyes now turned to their original color of grey, carried mischief. Jonathan shook his head while applying pressure on the wound. “Who… are you?” He mumbled trembling with tears running down his eyes as he saw the lifeless body of his friend.​

Demetrius chuckled and approached the man, gently stepping into a puddle of muddy water next to him. “Let me explain,” he calmly replied and reached for the wine glass on the table. “But first, a little drink won’t hurt.” A smirk lit up his face as he crouched down and placed the blood-stained glass next to Jonathan’s wrist, slowly letting it fill up from the wound. After taking a light whiff of the drink he got up and walked towards the fading light from a window, carefully stepping behind it. He took a sip as if he were relishing its taste. “You see, blood is what I crave, and blood not only satiates me but also let’s me feel some of your memories or experiences. Your experiences have helped me realize how long I have been asleep. My oh my, how the world has changed! I am what you call a vampire but not just any vampire. I am rather special you see.” There was a slight pause and Demetrius pushed his palm into the light. His back was facing Jonathan and the hand in the light began to smoke and turn into an ash like color. As the burn spread, Demetrius withdrew his hand and it healed in an instant. “But I don’t usually display savagery like I did last night. I prefer to drink in a more civilized way,” he said hinting at the glass in his hand. ​

“Let me tell you a little story.”​

“You may think what I am is a curse, but I assure you, the stories you are familiar with are lies. It is a gift. A gift of great power with its costs.”​

"Love makes people do strange things. This is a tale of a man so blinded by love that he sold his soul to the devil for a power that would be the ruin of him and all that he held dear. "​

"Centuries ago, there was young and ambitious man named Demetrius Cercel; a bastard of the house Draculesti; who roamed from one village of Romania to the other as a merchant trading rare items. He was always looking to make a pile of riches by finding the most exotic of items so that one day he may become a person of noble value and remove the stain on his name; bastard. During his travels, the naive man met one of the most beautiful and captivating women in a small inn outside of a village that bordered the mountains. It was love at first sight, something he wasn’t hoping to achieve while he visited this village. Because he was here to find the legendary jewel that was hidden in the heart of the mountains."​

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“Before he could propose, he wanted to give his beloved the life that she dreamed of, the life of nobles and for that he undertook a journey, deep into the mountains to find this legendary jewel, with a promise to return in 4 days. On the third day, he was near the brink of death from exhaustion. He had run out of supplies and water. It was then, that he met darkness.”​

“Yes, darkness was what called him into the cave. In there, he found the jewel, an elixir fabled to grant immense power. Darkness promised that by drinking the jewel, Demetrius would have all his wishes fulfilled but there was a price that came with it. The man did not heed the warning of darkness and out of greed and the desire to give his beloved an extraordinary life of comfort and riches, he drank the jewel."​

"He felt extraordinary strength. He could move like the wind, heal his wounds in a matter of seconds and his senses were working at pace many times that of a normal man. The desire to eat, sleep or rest withdrew from his existence. He returned to the village on the fourth day, feeling better than ever. But it was then he realized the price he had paid. The sun burnt his flesh, he had no reflection and above all, he became hungry for blood. He had become a bloodthirsty creature of the night."​

"Seeing the error of his ways, he sought comfort in his beloved, but tragedy befell him as she was not who she claimed to be. After learning of his secret, the woman he loved became his worst enemy. She sought to eliminate him, and the ones he turned to be like him. Vampires they called them. Outraged by her betrayal he warned her that he would destroy all that she loved and make her watch it as revenge. Alas, the young man couldn’t find it in him to kill his lover; so, in the end Demetrius lost the battle and was put to into an agonizing slumber by her hand."​

It appeared as if he was talking to himself and enjoying his drink. During the slight pauses he would take, he’d play with the dying sunlight to burn himself, enjoying the feeling of being alive again. He had a thing for theatrics and ups and downs in his voice showed that. “You ask who am I? I am the one who drank the jewel offered by darkness.” Arrogance was loaded in his demeanor and as he turned around he was shoved in the chest and pushed into the sunlight. Jonathan had mustered the last of his strength for this attack. “Vampire or not, burn in hell you monster!” He growled barely being able to hold himself up. Demetrius chuckled as the feeble rays of the setting sun weren’t enough to turn him into ash. Instead they made his body smoke and blister with patches of ash like wounds. “Did you really think I couldn’t hear you coming towards me. Haven’t you been paying attention?” Stepping out of the light made the wounds heal instantly. “You shouldn’t have done that. Disrespect is something I abhor.” The eerie friendliness was gone and there was clear rage on his face. The flesh on his hand got tense, the veins popping out and his nails turning into black claws. With a quick move, he slit Jonathan’s throat and held him up by his hair at a distance. He didn’t want any blood on his shoes or pants. He brought the wine glass in his other hand to the bleeding man’s throat and filled it up. “Foolish man. You could’ve had the gift, but you chose to disrespect me instead of asking for mercy.”​

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The good amount of blood he had, made him able to regain his strength completely. There was something strange he felt. None of his sires were alive except for two. One was familiar and a loyal servant and the other made him feel strange. He could feel her; and he wanted this feeling gone as it filled him with rage, knowing she was still alive. The memories of betrayal were bitter, and Demetrius wanted revenge.​

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[Cozette]

1421.

Nearly six hundred years had passed since that fateful night, and she had never forgotten. She had never forgotten the ultimate betrayal, nor had she forgotten him. Every day of her immortal life passed with thoughts of him. She had long since forgotten those days, and had even nearly forgotten their roots in Romania. But she had never forgotten their love. A cruel irony, with all things considered. The passage and ravages of time could neither mend nor destroy some things. A cruel irony indeed.

Irina Marinescu sat alone in the large, well-appointed room. Darkness had now fallen with its own set of of beautiful rules, ushering the daylight away for the next several hours. But Irina had awakened much earlier than usual. Many thanks to blackout curtains, if one was careful enough, waking before twilight was permissible. She was deeply troubled, if not deeply terrified. And for good reason....

“Irina” the voice was familiar, but not comforting this evening. It belonged to Nicolai, her most trusted advisor. A fellow Romanian, he had been a loyal subject since the very beginning, and although she had never given him her love, he was ever-faithful and devoted to his Siress. “What troubles you?” His voice was calm, his demeanor, poised. She gave him a long glance before turning her back to him. Opening the heavy blackout drapes to the darkness, she gazed out into the inky depths of night, and all its dark wonders. She chose her words carefully before speaking them, knowing the weight each one would hold. This was no small thing, and even she had no idea what the outcome would be, once it presented itself. No doubt, the world of darkness would be changed, forever. No one could hide from this. Not even her.

The Queen of them all. The Original.

Few knew of the truth. Only The Elders. No one else knew, save for one. It was clear to her that the one also had a loyal subject of his own. One who had been obviously missed during the betrayal. Irina always knew this day could be a possibility, but it had been a very very remote one. In all actuality, this should never have happened, but she knew it was so. She could feel it. To say she was fearful was a gross understatement. Tears rimmed her gorgeous emerald eyes as she both tried to find the words to tell Nicolai, and as she tried desperately to steady herself from the deep terror she now felt through her entire being.

He was awakened. He was here.

The day of so-called reckoning was upon her, and all of her underlings. She thought it was a peculiar thing how fate always came back around to serve everyone. Every season has an end, and things always change with time. It always played out, whether one was a mere human, or an immortal. This evening she did not feel like the Queen she was, instead she felt almost insignificant among her kind. The consequences for her actions would be dire, no matter the outcome. She abandoned her thoughts of how to explain herself to Nicolai, and instead began to think of him....

Demetrius had been her only love. Through the ages she had never once stopped loving him, even at the ultimate betrayal. Fighting back tears, she knew it was solely her fault. In the heat of the moment and the crippling fear, she had reacted hastily that night. She had not known the possible outcome, or the repercussions of such an act of betrayal, but she had committed the act nonetheless. In truth, it started out by doing what was right. The Holy Order had been that strong. But she also did it out of fear and a false sense of his betrayal of her. Or, rather, what she had perceived as betrayal. Centuries later had made her realize that she herself was wrong, but she could not afford to look back. Here, in the darkness of the Georgia night, her fears were now realized. Fate had come full term. She was now forced to evaluate and face straight on what she had tried so desperately to keep hidden....to keep dormant. Her rule was incomparable. Her own strength formidable. But she knew she was no match for Demetrius. Still, she was, for all intents and purposes, unwilling to relinquish her hold to power. She had led her kind for six centuries. But he was the Original. That she could no longer deny. Surely now that Demetrius had been awakened, he would seek his rightful place of power and dominance, and he would also seek to exact revenge upon her. Now the legions of Vampires would know who the true Original was. Now they would know their true King.

Irina could barely contain her emotions as she stood silently. Centuries of thoughts and emotions running through her mind, barely contained with her somewhat calm facade. She was the epitome of beauty, with a head of luxurious blonde tresses that fell along her waist, framing out a beautiful, flawless countenance that was beset with verdant green eyes more beautiful than any emerald. She looked softly at Nicolai, bolstering herself before she spoke. “You are correct. I do indeed have something that troubles me. I need to tell you something, and I hope you will understand me, and stand loyally by me, as you always have throughout the centuries. Please understand, to tell you this pains me so.”

She went on to tell Nicolai of that fateful night six centuries prior, not sparing him one single detail. He deserved the absolute truth, and she rendered that truth to him with one painful detail of full disclosure after another. Nothing left out. Not a single omission. Nicolai looked at his Siress with an incredulous look, but his loyalty never wavered. She went on to finish her story——“So, since he is my Sire, I can feel him. He has been awakened, and he is here. Presumably the one who awakened him escaped the initial purge of his underlings, and hid until the appropriate time. Now Demetrius is here, in Savannah. The time is long nigh. He is coming. Because he is my Sire, and the One True Original, there is nowhere possible for me to hide. He will find me. There is no escape. Retribution, I fear, will be swift, and absolute.”

With those words Irina looked back out into the darkness of night. It had finally come to pass. Right or wrong, she would pay dearly for her decision centuries ago. He was looking for her. She could feel it.