Post by Lady Ruliya on Nov 18, 2013 21:21:32 GMT
So this is something I worked on about two years ago, I got into the fifth chapter before shelfing it, not sure where I was going with it. I posted the first 3 chapters on the 'Topia, so you lucky devils get a whole new chapter, not seen before! Maybe another one, if I write up what I have of the fifth chapter, but for now, please enjoy ^^
Chapter 1
The wind howled down the naked alleyway as a woman in her early twenties ran down it, her long waist length blonde hair streaked behind her. She was breathing heavily, as though she had run a long way, she looked behind her as she ran, clearly she was running from something. Her head turned back to view the alleyway she was running down when she shrieked in terror as she bumped into a tall guy clad in leathers who grabbed a hold of her as she hit him.
Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with him to let her go, to let her live. The guy only smiled, a thin evil smile and lifted her up off the ground, he spun her around and held her tightly from behind, one hand across her belly another grabbing her breast, his chin resting against her shoulder.
The girl sobbed, her unintelligible cries for help muffled as her throat was choked with fear and panic. Why had she thought running down a secluded alleyway was the best option of escape? Her mind reeled with the prospect of what was about to happen to her, she was probably about to be raped, and her body dumped in the alleyway not to be found for days.
He was whispering something in her ear, though stricken as she was she didn’t hear a word of it, but she did feel his groping hands squeezing her breast and holding her tight. And then she felt a sharp pain in her neck, she instinctively moved her head as far away as she could, alas exposing more of her neck in doing so. She felt teeth penetrate her skin, and the hot rush of blood coursing down her neck.
She suddenly felt so weak, and yet felt waves of euphoria wash through her, this mix of pleasure and agony caused her to thrash about in his arms, but he held her tighter still. The blood trickled down her back under her tight shirt, undoubtedly staining the white with sickly red. Her cries had stopped and had turned to freakish moans of pleasure.
Within seconds she felt utterly drained and drooped in his arms, as she fell he laid her down on the ground. His hands now free he used one to wipe the blood from his mouth, pulling out a dagger with his other. He used the dagger to slice his wrist which he held over the poor girls barely opened mouth, the blood dripped down, as if being poured from a mug. She gulped down the viscous fluid without realising what it was.
After a few seconds she coughed loudly, and her body violently thrashed about on its own, this lasted about twenty seconds and then her body went still. The guy stood above, watching the frantic scene, no specific look on his face, as if this wasn’t the first time he had done this heinous act. How many other people had he knowingly butchered or bitten? No one other than he would really know.
He stood patiently as the seconds passed slowly, until the girl awoke gasping a large intake of air.
Rachel sat up quickly putting a hand on her forehead and curling her knees up to her chest; her hair was messily strewn about behind her. The duvet now only half covering her naked body. That same nightmare had woken her up at the beginning of every night for the past year, ever since the night it happened. She cursed Dorana for doing it to her in the first place, and yet she loved him so regardless. She looked to the side of her at an empty space on the bed; as usual he was already up and about somewhere.
It hadn’t taken her long to get used to this new life, or un-life of hers. All thanks to the guidance of Dorana, her sire. The whole experience of being turned was a true nightmare; she had no wonders as to why it awoke her every night, and figured it’d probably wake her up every night for the rest of time.
She got up and walked into the kitchen, it was cold in the apartment, but besides being naked she didn’t feel it at all, being dead sometimes had its advantages. Opening the Fridge, she was presented with an array of choices, blood packs, bottles of blood, even the odd vial, small portions of blood for an emergency. She took out a pack of A+ and ripped it open, pouring the thick liquid down her throat. How weird it had tasted to her once untainted lips, now it was just as anything else. She drank lots of it without a second thought.
Smirking she thought of the first time she had to take blood. “Come on,” he had told her, “it’s not as bad as it seems, see?” He took a bottle of blood and drank it all down in one go. She had made a face, as though she was going to puke and he had laughed. It took about an hour of convincing, but he finally talked her into taking a taste. At first she had spat it straight back out again, going yuck as she did. But the second time, her face contorted in revulsion but she managed to gulp a mouthful down. Blergh! She didn’t like the taste, no she did not, not one bit; but a year of drinking blood to survive however, had changed her mind considerably.
She walked over to the huge glass window which covered the whole left wall of their penthouse suite. It was snowing outside, not something too unusual in New York, but it was getting thicker as time passed. She looked over to a digital clock on a stand next to their huge TV. The time was coming up to ten. She walked back to the bedroom and got dressed. She walked out in a black corset, dark blue jeans, and large black military boots, her blonde hair was now dyed crimson red and hung down to her shoulder blades.
Just then the front door swung open and a man dressed in a black suit minus the tie and with half the top buttons undone walked in, he had long black hair and swaggered into the lounge. Rachel caught sight of him and smiled, “Hey sweetie, welcome back.”
“Ah Rach, I’m glad you’re here, and dressed. We need to talk,” he said jumping over the back of the couch and landing in a perfect slouch, an arm draped across the back.
She walked in front of the couch and stood in front of him, staring into his eyes suspiciously, “Why? What have you done this time?” she accused.
He looked back at her, mock hurt on his face, “Me my darling? I have done nothing that would upset you, this night at least.” A large smile crept onto his face.
She continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, “hmm okay.” She shrugged, “So what do you need to talk to me about.”
“Dramos has informed me about a meeting,” he said, his face now serious, “Tomorrow. We’ll have to leave soon to catch a private jet to Stockholm tonight. And you know what that means. We’ll be having that special someone present.”
She looked at him, surprise crept onto her face, but she hoped he didn’t notice it, “You mean?” she asked incredulously.
“Yea, I know, right?” he said grimly casting a hand over his mouth as he said it, pulling it down his chin.
Rachel gasped, for it could only be one person: Veneficia or the Poison Queen as she was now known. She was the Vampire Matriarch for the whole of Scandinavia. Rachel had heard rumours that she was over a thousand years old, not that she looked it, but then vampires didn’t age. According to legend she was keeping watch, waiting for her master’s return. Mordacai was a legend in his own right, one of the original seven Vampires created by the so called Dark queen. Oh yes, she’d heard a few of the big stories about those from Scandinavia, but of the vampire sects and covens across the world? She didn’t know much about them.
“But why would she show up now?” she wondered aloud, pacing up and down, Dorana just stayed silent, waiting until, “Wait, why are you telling me?” she stared at him a finger pointing towards him accusingly, “No...No!”
“Yup, I suggested taking you along, and Dramos thinks that it’ll be good for your ‘development as a fledgling’ and I couldn’t agree more” he laughed standing up and holding onto her hands, keeping her steady.
She eyed him up, staring daggers into his eyes, “but...I mean...” her body twisted left and right, her hands tensed up gripping his hard, “now?”
He nodded and then turned and led out the door, into an elevator and down into the underground parking area. The place was brightly lit, but the stone gray walls just looked ugly. They walked along a little way, and there in front of them was an expensive jet black two-seater sports car. Dorana jumped into the driver’s seat, and Rachel nervously walked around and into the passenger’s seat. Rachel loved the Lamborghini and had practically begged him to buy her it, even though he enjoyed driving it as much as her.
He turned the key and the engine roared into life, he stamped his foot down on the accelerator pedal and the car launched forwards, turning almost on a dime up and out of the parking bay and up onto the streets of New York.
As the car drove through the Manhattan streets Rachel turned to Dorana and asked, “Why are we flying all the way to Stockholm exactly?” and when he stared at her she added, “Stupid question I know, but I have to ask, I am new to this after all.”
He flashed a grin, as he concentrated on driving perilously fast, “Ah, I do forget sometimes sweets. Well the Poison Queen hasn’t called a meeting like this in over a century, which means something big’s going on.”
“But why exactly do we have to head back to Sweden?” she asked, and he looked at her for a second with a look of resignation on his face and the gravity of the situation dawned on her and she looked back out of the windscreen.
***
The black Lamborghini pulled up outside of the Sanatorium Club just after two A.M that morning. Dorana climbed out, as two guys clad in full suits walked up to him. Dorana threw the keys to the first guy, a medium built white guy, telling him not to scratch the paintwork. The second one, a tall, stocky black guy, with dark glasses motioned for him to follow. He walked across the pavement, winking at two girls who were at the front of the queue, and went straight past them and into the club. As the outer door closed, and they walked through the entrance hall, a wall of heavy metal hit him like a ton of bricks. He followed the guy through thick crowds of partygoers into the back of the club, up a pair of solemn looking stairs and into a V.I.P room at the top of the club, overlooking the clubs main stage and dance floor. Being a Saturday night of course, the club was heaving.
The sound was muted slightly inside the V.I.P room. As he entered he noticed two people in suits stood guard outside, and inside, there were four other suits stood about. The room was kitted out with three large sofas and two large tables, covered with drinks. The room was full of vampires, and one of them, a tall black guy dressed in a fine navy blue suit got up and walked over to him.
“Dorana!” he exclaimed as he shook his hand, “glad you could make it man!”
Dorana laughed, “But of course Dramos, you know how much I love your club.”
Dramos smiled, his arms flung out gesturing the whole building, “It’s the best place in town right?” he laughed again, “You know you’re always welcome here man.
“Sit down, sit down,” he gestured to an empty chair on the far side of the room with glass floor, and large windows looking down into the club below. He moved and sat into a chair opposite and clicked his fingers, “Hey, a drink for my man Dorana!”
Dorana nodded as he sat down, accepting his beer, “Nice to see the place as packed as ever, business is good then?”
Sitting down himself Dramos replied, “Yea man, good as ever. Humans,” he chuckled, “hell they’ll come in their millions for music and beer, and when we make it cheap as fuck, it’s like a fast food stand.” His bald head gleamed in the bright lights of the room.
The pair talked for an hour about the club, current goings on within the city, and a few tales of past adventures before Dramos rubbed his bald head and his face dropped into a look of seriousness, “Hey buddy, look,” he hesitated and stared at his friend for a long time. Dorana sat patiently supping his drink, “I’ve heard from some contacts in Sweden.
Noticing the expression on Droana’s face he looked concerned and a little sympathetic, “Yea man I know, but they’ve heard of your exploits over here, and they asked for you personally.”
“Damn,” he said to himself, shaking his head, “I guess when you’re good, they want you.”
“Exactly man,” he agreed, “but hey, you are the best. And look, take that new girl of yours. She’s a bit wet around the ears still right? This will really throw her into it,” he burst into a laugh.
He laughed nervously with Dramos, he wasn’t nervous about taking Rachel, he was nervous about what it meant, “But they have plenty of agents like me over there in Europe.”
“Nah man,” Dramos said shaking his head and downing his drink, “Way I hear it, the Poison Queen herself is involved, she called this meeting.”
Dorana looked incredulously at his friend, “Meeting?! Damn, that means there’s going to be quite a few Elders there.”
“Oh yea man,” Dramos roared, “Might need to buy ya’self a new suit.”
“So, when’s this meeting exactly?”
“Ah right, yea. Thing is, it’s Monday evening, I got ya a private jet booked to take ya to Stockholm tomorrow night at eleven. Do not miss it.”
The serious subject now concluded, the two friends got more drinks and partied until sunrise.
***
Dorana drove their car into JFK airports secured parking facilities. The pair made their way through the airport and into the executive lounge, where they headed straight to the departure bay. There they met a representative who led them down a flight of stairs and outside to a small coach, which took them out to their plane. There, they were met by a refined young man who was to be their pilot. After the small pleasantries they boarded the plane.
Walking onto the plane they took their seats in the small private cabin. Rachel stared intently out of the window at the slowly falling snow flakes, each of them a speck of perfection around for only the shortest period of time. She smiled sweetly at the thought that she could be around long enough to watch a thousand snowy nights.
Just then a large guy with long black hair down to below his waist, and a long black beard walked onto the plane, his large black leather trench coat trailed across the ground as his heavy metal boots thundered on the deck as he walked to a seat at the back and sat down, the coat looked so ancient, as if it had seen a millennia. And maybe it had, after all he was probably a vampire like them, otherwise why would he have been chartered onto this jet? She looked over at dorana who just shrugged back, neither of them knew who he was, but the attendants were making a huge fuss over him. The man himself said nothing, as silent as the night.
A separate waitress brought the two a selection of beers, which they took politely and after a half hour of checks, the pilot indicated he was ready for takeoff. Rachel sat back in her seat and looked towards the front of the cabin as the plane picked up speed rumbling its way across the runway, until it built up enough speed and took to the skies.
Chapter 1
The wind howled down the naked alleyway as a woman in her early twenties ran down it, her long waist length blonde hair streaked behind her. She was breathing heavily, as though she had run a long way, she looked behind her as she ran, clearly she was running from something. Her head turned back to view the alleyway she was running down when she shrieked in terror as she bumped into a tall guy clad in leathers who grabbed a hold of her as she hit him.
Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with him to let her go, to let her live. The guy only smiled, a thin evil smile and lifted her up off the ground, he spun her around and held her tightly from behind, one hand across her belly another grabbing her breast, his chin resting against her shoulder.
The girl sobbed, her unintelligible cries for help muffled as her throat was choked with fear and panic. Why had she thought running down a secluded alleyway was the best option of escape? Her mind reeled with the prospect of what was about to happen to her, she was probably about to be raped, and her body dumped in the alleyway not to be found for days.
He was whispering something in her ear, though stricken as she was she didn’t hear a word of it, but she did feel his groping hands squeezing her breast and holding her tight. And then she felt a sharp pain in her neck, she instinctively moved her head as far away as she could, alas exposing more of her neck in doing so. She felt teeth penetrate her skin, and the hot rush of blood coursing down her neck.
She suddenly felt so weak, and yet felt waves of euphoria wash through her, this mix of pleasure and agony caused her to thrash about in his arms, but he held her tighter still. The blood trickled down her back under her tight shirt, undoubtedly staining the white with sickly red. Her cries had stopped and had turned to freakish moans of pleasure.
Within seconds she felt utterly drained and drooped in his arms, as she fell he laid her down on the ground. His hands now free he used one to wipe the blood from his mouth, pulling out a dagger with his other. He used the dagger to slice his wrist which he held over the poor girls barely opened mouth, the blood dripped down, as if being poured from a mug. She gulped down the viscous fluid without realising what it was.
After a few seconds she coughed loudly, and her body violently thrashed about on its own, this lasted about twenty seconds and then her body went still. The guy stood above, watching the frantic scene, no specific look on his face, as if this wasn’t the first time he had done this heinous act. How many other people had he knowingly butchered or bitten? No one other than he would really know.
He stood patiently as the seconds passed slowly, until the girl awoke gasping a large intake of air.
Rachel sat up quickly putting a hand on her forehead and curling her knees up to her chest; her hair was messily strewn about behind her. The duvet now only half covering her naked body. That same nightmare had woken her up at the beginning of every night for the past year, ever since the night it happened. She cursed Dorana for doing it to her in the first place, and yet she loved him so regardless. She looked to the side of her at an empty space on the bed; as usual he was already up and about somewhere.
It hadn’t taken her long to get used to this new life, or un-life of hers. All thanks to the guidance of Dorana, her sire. The whole experience of being turned was a true nightmare; she had no wonders as to why it awoke her every night, and figured it’d probably wake her up every night for the rest of time.
She got up and walked into the kitchen, it was cold in the apartment, but besides being naked she didn’t feel it at all, being dead sometimes had its advantages. Opening the Fridge, she was presented with an array of choices, blood packs, bottles of blood, even the odd vial, small portions of blood for an emergency. She took out a pack of A+ and ripped it open, pouring the thick liquid down her throat. How weird it had tasted to her once untainted lips, now it was just as anything else. She drank lots of it without a second thought.
Smirking she thought of the first time she had to take blood. “Come on,” he had told her, “it’s not as bad as it seems, see?” He took a bottle of blood and drank it all down in one go. She had made a face, as though she was going to puke and he had laughed. It took about an hour of convincing, but he finally talked her into taking a taste. At first she had spat it straight back out again, going yuck as she did. But the second time, her face contorted in revulsion but she managed to gulp a mouthful down. Blergh! She didn’t like the taste, no she did not, not one bit; but a year of drinking blood to survive however, had changed her mind considerably.
She walked over to the huge glass window which covered the whole left wall of their penthouse suite. It was snowing outside, not something too unusual in New York, but it was getting thicker as time passed. She looked over to a digital clock on a stand next to their huge TV. The time was coming up to ten. She walked back to the bedroom and got dressed. She walked out in a black corset, dark blue jeans, and large black military boots, her blonde hair was now dyed crimson red and hung down to her shoulder blades.
Just then the front door swung open and a man dressed in a black suit minus the tie and with half the top buttons undone walked in, he had long black hair and swaggered into the lounge. Rachel caught sight of him and smiled, “Hey sweetie, welcome back.”
“Ah Rach, I’m glad you’re here, and dressed. We need to talk,” he said jumping over the back of the couch and landing in a perfect slouch, an arm draped across the back.
She walked in front of the couch and stood in front of him, staring into his eyes suspiciously, “Why? What have you done this time?” she accused.
He looked back at her, mock hurt on his face, “Me my darling? I have done nothing that would upset you, this night at least.” A large smile crept onto his face.
She continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, “hmm okay.” She shrugged, “So what do you need to talk to me about.”
“Dramos has informed me about a meeting,” he said, his face now serious, “Tomorrow. We’ll have to leave soon to catch a private jet to Stockholm tonight. And you know what that means. We’ll be having that special someone present.”
She looked at him, surprise crept onto her face, but she hoped he didn’t notice it, “You mean?” she asked incredulously.
“Yea, I know, right?” he said grimly casting a hand over his mouth as he said it, pulling it down his chin.
Rachel gasped, for it could only be one person: Veneficia or the Poison Queen as she was now known. She was the Vampire Matriarch for the whole of Scandinavia. Rachel had heard rumours that she was over a thousand years old, not that she looked it, but then vampires didn’t age. According to legend she was keeping watch, waiting for her master’s return. Mordacai was a legend in his own right, one of the original seven Vampires created by the so called Dark queen. Oh yes, she’d heard a few of the big stories about those from Scandinavia, but of the vampire sects and covens across the world? She didn’t know much about them.
“But why would she show up now?” she wondered aloud, pacing up and down, Dorana just stayed silent, waiting until, “Wait, why are you telling me?” she stared at him a finger pointing towards him accusingly, “No...No!”
“Yup, I suggested taking you along, and Dramos thinks that it’ll be good for your ‘development as a fledgling’ and I couldn’t agree more” he laughed standing up and holding onto her hands, keeping her steady.
She eyed him up, staring daggers into his eyes, “but...I mean...” her body twisted left and right, her hands tensed up gripping his hard, “now?”
He nodded and then turned and led out the door, into an elevator and down into the underground parking area. The place was brightly lit, but the stone gray walls just looked ugly. They walked along a little way, and there in front of them was an expensive jet black two-seater sports car. Dorana jumped into the driver’s seat, and Rachel nervously walked around and into the passenger’s seat. Rachel loved the Lamborghini and had practically begged him to buy her it, even though he enjoyed driving it as much as her.
He turned the key and the engine roared into life, he stamped his foot down on the accelerator pedal and the car launched forwards, turning almost on a dime up and out of the parking bay and up onto the streets of New York.
As the car drove through the Manhattan streets Rachel turned to Dorana and asked, “Why are we flying all the way to Stockholm exactly?” and when he stared at her she added, “Stupid question I know, but I have to ask, I am new to this after all.”
He flashed a grin, as he concentrated on driving perilously fast, “Ah, I do forget sometimes sweets. Well the Poison Queen hasn’t called a meeting like this in over a century, which means something big’s going on.”
“But why exactly do we have to head back to Sweden?” she asked, and he looked at her for a second with a look of resignation on his face and the gravity of the situation dawned on her and she looked back out of the windscreen.
***
The black Lamborghini pulled up outside of the Sanatorium Club just after two A.M that morning. Dorana climbed out, as two guys clad in full suits walked up to him. Dorana threw the keys to the first guy, a medium built white guy, telling him not to scratch the paintwork. The second one, a tall, stocky black guy, with dark glasses motioned for him to follow. He walked across the pavement, winking at two girls who were at the front of the queue, and went straight past them and into the club. As the outer door closed, and they walked through the entrance hall, a wall of heavy metal hit him like a ton of bricks. He followed the guy through thick crowds of partygoers into the back of the club, up a pair of solemn looking stairs and into a V.I.P room at the top of the club, overlooking the clubs main stage and dance floor. Being a Saturday night of course, the club was heaving.
The sound was muted slightly inside the V.I.P room. As he entered he noticed two people in suits stood guard outside, and inside, there were four other suits stood about. The room was kitted out with three large sofas and two large tables, covered with drinks. The room was full of vampires, and one of them, a tall black guy dressed in a fine navy blue suit got up and walked over to him.
“Dorana!” he exclaimed as he shook his hand, “glad you could make it man!”
Dorana laughed, “But of course Dramos, you know how much I love your club.”
Dramos smiled, his arms flung out gesturing the whole building, “It’s the best place in town right?” he laughed again, “You know you’re always welcome here man.
“Sit down, sit down,” he gestured to an empty chair on the far side of the room with glass floor, and large windows looking down into the club below. He moved and sat into a chair opposite and clicked his fingers, “Hey, a drink for my man Dorana!”
Dorana nodded as he sat down, accepting his beer, “Nice to see the place as packed as ever, business is good then?”
Sitting down himself Dramos replied, “Yea man, good as ever. Humans,” he chuckled, “hell they’ll come in their millions for music and beer, and when we make it cheap as fuck, it’s like a fast food stand.” His bald head gleamed in the bright lights of the room.
The pair talked for an hour about the club, current goings on within the city, and a few tales of past adventures before Dramos rubbed his bald head and his face dropped into a look of seriousness, “Hey buddy, look,” he hesitated and stared at his friend for a long time. Dorana sat patiently supping his drink, “I’ve heard from some contacts in Sweden.
Noticing the expression on Droana’s face he looked concerned and a little sympathetic, “Yea man I know, but they’ve heard of your exploits over here, and they asked for you personally.”
“Damn,” he said to himself, shaking his head, “I guess when you’re good, they want you.”
“Exactly man,” he agreed, “but hey, you are the best. And look, take that new girl of yours. She’s a bit wet around the ears still right? This will really throw her into it,” he burst into a laugh.
He laughed nervously with Dramos, he wasn’t nervous about taking Rachel, he was nervous about what it meant, “But they have plenty of agents like me over there in Europe.”
“Nah man,” Dramos said shaking his head and downing his drink, “Way I hear it, the Poison Queen herself is involved, she called this meeting.”
Dorana looked incredulously at his friend, “Meeting?! Damn, that means there’s going to be quite a few Elders there.”
“Oh yea man,” Dramos roared, “Might need to buy ya’self a new suit.”
“So, when’s this meeting exactly?”
“Ah right, yea. Thing is, it’s Monday evening, I got ya a private jet booked to take ya to Stockholm tomorrow night at eleven. Do not miss it.”
The serious subject now concluded, the two friends got more drinks and partied until sunrise.
***
Dorana drove their car into JFK airports secured parking facilities. The pair made their way through the airport and into the executive lounge, where they headed straight to the departure bay. There they met a representative who led them down a flight of stairs and outside to a small coach, which took them out to their plane. There, they were met by a refined young man who was to be their pilot. After the small pleasantries they boarded the plane.
Walking onto the plane they took their seats in the small private cabin. Rachel stared intently out of the window at the slowly falling snow flakes, each of them a speck of perfection around for only the shortest period of time. She smiled sweetly at the thought that she could be around long enough to watch a thousand snowy nights.
Just then a large guy with long black hair down to below his waist, and a long black beard walked onto the plane, his large black leather trench coat trailed across the ground as his heavy metal boots thundered on the deck as he walked to a seat at the back and sat down, the coat looked so ancient, as if it had seen a millennia. And maybe it had, after all he was probably a vampire like them, otherwise why would he have been chartered onto this jet? She looked over at dorana who just shrugged back, neither of them knew who he was, but the attendants were making a huge fuss over him. The man himself said nothing, as silent as the night.
A separate waitress brought the two a selection of beers, which they took politely and after a half hour of checks, the pilot indicated he was ready for takeoff. Rachel sat back in her seat and looked towards the front of the cabin as the plane picked up speed rumbling its way across the runway, until it built up enough speed and took to the skies.