Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 25, 2012 7:54:43 GMT -5
Rae watched him with keen interest; something about the vampire in front of her had changed now. He seemed darker, he seemed like the reflection of such a memory was haunting him and Rae did not want to interrupt those thoughts. She waited quietly for her answer, the nerves building up inside her. She stroked her finger pad over the gun, drawing it from her side to her chest, cradling it thoughtfully as she continued to wait. Rae realised she had moved the gun as his eyes came to it. It was a subconscious motion, and as he stared at her, she saw the defences rise in his eyes. She lowered the gun once more, leaving it at her side. Rae did not feel safe yet, she would not return it to its place in her purse.
Her question was personal, but not out of interest of being bitten. Rae had committed self-harm. She had, on occasion cut into the skin of her under arm with a razor blade. Of course he was not to know this; the pretty pale pink jumper she wore covered the marks more than adequately. But it was indeed something she had done, and each time she had done so she had wondered how close to death she was. It was not a thrill, but a fear. It was a respect for something she did not and could not begin to understand, but ultimately; it was curiosity. Her family were dead…she wondered, morbidly what it felt like. Surviving a vampire bite, in her opinion, was the same as her own brand of self-harm and she had read stories of people who looked for it, looked for the thrill, looked for the feeling of being so powerless, so close to death…so relieved to feel alive.
He finished with a question. ‘why would you?’ and she dared not answer. It was rhetorical was it not? Though she supposed, in some respect he had given her a lot of information and in return she had given him nothing. She had merely not shot him. Did she want to shoot him? Not really, not anymore. It was not in her nature. If, if he would allow her to carry on passed then she too would allow him to live…it was a deal after all.
“Are you any good at poker?” A smile lined her plush lips for a moment. “There’s an underground game going on-“ She pointed passed him (with her free hand) to a second alleyway leading of theirs. Of course he knew she was going to play, he knew that was her plan for the evening- he had gotten that information out of her when he had put his trance over her.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 25, 2012 14:32:25 GMT -5
He wondered what her third question would be. She hadn’t put her gun away. He doubted she would until he was gone. It was funny how this country prided themselves on their strict gun laws yet a young woman could wave a gun around on the street not even that late at night and not kick up even a slightest fuss. It irked Alistair a little especially as, in some way, he still considered himself British. He’d been born there; blooded there; it may not be his permanent home anymore but a small place rested in his heart for ol’ Brittania.
“Are you any good at poker? There’s an underground game going on-”
This surprised Alistair. He managed to keep that off his face though. The tenser or more difficult a situation became the easier it was for Alistair to work. The stress made him perform at the top of his game and this situation just upped its stress levels.
What was she doing? Was this an ambush? Was she waiting for him to show weaknesses? Did she want to ask him more questions? Just what did she want out of this?
“My survival depends on reading people. I also play Chess rather well but aren't you a little young to be gambling, miss…” He paused raising an eyebrow inquisitively. They hadn’t exchanged names at any point in the proceedings. Then again it very rarely came up in tense situations unless you were both very cool characters indeed. "Forgive me, I am yet to ask your name. I am Alistair Crowsly." He pointed to himself as he said his name and then he pointed to hers expecting an answer. Most probably a fake answer but it didn't overly matter. He just eeded something to call her.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 25, 2012 14:45:41 GMT -5
She wanted to tell him that he wasn’t suddenly her friend, she wanted to tell him her guard was still up and she wanted to tell him that this invitation meant nothing more than the ideal of keeping your friends (not that she had any) close and her enemies closer (and she was finding more and more of those daily). She watched him carefully as he considered his answer. “Funny.” She murmured. “Mine too.” But the comment was merely to herself and not to the others around her.
“Maria.” She said, gently. Maria had become her pseudonym. It was the name she used now, something she had adopted recently after an unfortunate incident in an American diner. Yes it was fake, but she hadn’t given her own name in such a long time that Rae was beginning to feel like a Maria. At first she had rebuked the idea, had argued that she did not look like a Maria and could not sing, but the more she used it the more in touch she felt with the idea of being a Maria.
She glanced from him to the gun she held and said carefully. “I’m going to put this away- but if you try anything I won’t hesitate in shooting you.” She told him, hoping they had some sort of deal. She was tense, but it was clear that she did not want to shoot him and she finally let him know that as she said. “I’d rather beat the dealer in poker than have to clean blood from the street, okay?”
She unclicked the royal blue clutch bag she had been carrying, and flicking the safety into place she replaced the gun into her bag. For a moment there was a horrible, vulnerable feeling shivering across her skin but then Rae looked up at him and smiled softly. “Coming?”
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 25, 2012 16:41:51 GMT -5
“Maria”
Fake? Maybe not. She was comfortable; as comfortable as she could look in this situation. When someone is given two names and they respond with one it usually means they are giving a fake name. Alistair didn’t know why this was so just that he had seen a pattern in his own experiences. It did not overly matter. He had not interest in seeking her out after and frankly he doubted a name would help him with that.
“ I’m going to put this away- but if you try anything I won’t hesitate in shooting you.”
He watched as she put the gun away. He didn’t frown; he didn’t show confusion at her sudden act of generosity; frankly he wasn’t confused. There was no way any poker game would let her in with a drawn weapon. In fact he was pretty sure they’d take it off her during the game too.
The fact she put the safety on brought an amused smile to his lips. He could kill her in any casual situation. She drops her guard; she relaxes; and he could slit her throat before she got the gun out and the safety off. Perhaps not that quickly. Perhaps he wouldn’t even kill her. He wasn’t sure about her. He wasn’t sure about tonight.
“Coming?”
Alistair smiled and stepped aside. “Après vous, Madame?” He replied pleasantly in perfect French. He was not a silver-tongue of course but he had spent the first thirty years of his Vampyre life moving around France. His mentor had loved France so very much.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 25, 2012 17:06:26 GMT -5
French? Oh dear.
Rae was not good with French. She had gone on an exchange to Paris when she was younger. Her mother had insisted it would help her grow as a woman. She had been fourteen with no intention of growing as a woman, but it was a trip that Daddy paid for and she had gotten to see the museums and the galleries. Oh, the galleries. The paintings were beautiful, were grand, and stunning. She had to admit, that while her French had barely improved, she had become so in-love with art and fashion during that trip. She had come home and insisted her room be re-decorated. While still pink she had ordered her father to buy several copies – all of her favourite pictures of course- and they were hung on the walls of her boudoir.
How she had changed since the days were she demanded anything from her parents. Rae regretted, sometimes, the way she had not been as close to them as she may have liked. But her father worked away a lot (she later learnt he was a hunter travelling to do his job) and her mother was a Doctor; it meant shifts and long hours.
Rae watched him, with a gentle smile and nodded. Then she walked passed him. It may have been a bad idea for her to put her back to him, but, tucking her bag under her arm she wandered towards her original destination. She wandered down the alleyway and turned into another.
In the centre of the new alleyway was a set of stairs leading down to a basement level doorway. Rae took it a step at a time, and knocked on the door. It was opened by a man in a suit, who looked at both of them and let them in. The room was smoky and was full of red velvet tables. Many had people already sat at them, but Rae went to the bar. She’d start with a drink and move onto a table from there.
“Rae?” A voice came from behind her and she turned to see one of her old school friends. A pretty girl, one of her clique from private school, was now dressed in tiny hot pants and ridiculous heels. “O.M.G Rae look at you!” The girl screamed and hugged Rae.
Well this was going to make this awkward. The blonde’s eyes came up to the man beside Rae and she blushed. “O.M.G is that your boyfriend- Rae? No way?!” She fluttered.
Rae sighed, and tucked pink hair behind her ears. “Alistair this is Abbie- we-“
“Were in school together.” The girl purred. “Back before Daddy kicked me out for doing cocaine- this is my way of getting him back!” She giggled.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 26, 2012 18:31:04 GMT -5
He didn’t kill her. This was probably good news; to her at least; though he’d definitely spotted some issues she might want to consider if she ran into a Vampyre both sane and hungry enough not to agree to play Poker with her.
He followed her hanging inconspicuously at her side. She knew full well he was there but if he took just one rouge step from her side he could disappear as easily as a whisper on the wind. Alistair, as a rule, liked to keep his options open and created opportunities of escape almost subconsciously.
He glanced casually at the bouncer identifying several weak points in his stance and deciding that if he were to strike right now he’d go straight for the Solar Plexus. Of course such a big dummy would fall into a trance so quickly and so deeply it would be reminiscent of slipping whiskey into a baby’s bottle. Violence would not be necessary whether or not he declined them the first time.
He did not decline them however and they slipped down the stairs without incident. As they entered the place he allowed himself an amused smile. This was the sort of haunt he was used to. Smoky, artificial light, definite undertone of violence and criminal activity and just a hint of those old taverns he loved so much as a mortal. This was one of the many reasons he loved London. It was filled with such back alley places. You’d find it hard to find anywhere quite so ‘quaint’ as this in any American city. It was all ‘bars’ over there. They wouldn’t know the meaning of a real pub if it jumped up and bit their fat, American tummies.
“Nice place.” He commented feeling the need to remind her he was still there.
Alistair moved over to the bar with Rae wondering if she was even legal age in this country. He had turned that legal age times ten earlier this year. Vampyres celebrated birthdays oddly and, like most things, it was different for every type. Mortumar Vampyres, for instance, celebrated every year until they were one hundred. Then they celebrated every decade until they were two hundred. Every twenty-five until they were four hundred. Every fifty till they were five hundred. Those that had made it past then celebrated every century but, being the youngest race of Vampyres themselves, only one was known to have made it past a thousand and he’d given up counting so no-one was really sure if he’d even done so. It was so hard for older Vampyres to get a correct grip on their age. After all they kept changing the damn calendars...
“Rae?”
Rae? He had her now; not that it mattered so much. He let a pleasant smile fall on his lips. Something the girl might mistake for charming but it was not for her. It was a winning smile; a modest one perhaps; but a winning smile all the same. She would know. He knew she would.
He studied the girl as she approached and hugged Rae. He studied her psychologically; he studied her hungrily; he studied her ruthlessly; he studied her lustfully. There was so many ways to study a woman; human; prey; opponent; lover. She could be all of those things to Alistair. She could be a mindless mortal sent to him to induce mindless chit-chat and social convention. She could be his next snack now or even later. She could be a Hunter in league with his ‘friend’ ready to get him at his most vulnerable. She could be the next in a string of females to share his bed. In fact she could be a mixture of those things or, if perhaps he was a lucky Vampyre, she could be all.
She dressed ridiculously and spoke stereotypically. Her attire left little room for weaponry yet all of her most vital, and some of her most erogenous, spots open. He delayed judgement until she stopped speaking though he was almost certain she didn’t full under the opponent character.
After an amusing suggestion that Alistair and ‘Rae’ were dating they introduced Abbie as Rae’s old school friend and, to Alistair, it seemed like this one was just going to be human after all unless he really wanted to put some effort in to take her away for naughty things. Though at the rate Abbie was going and the look on Rae’s face she might just give her away.
When she had finished speaking Alistair wrapped one arm around Rae’s shoulder seemingly completely at ease. He pulled her in against him and reached out with his other hand to shake Abbie’s whilst saying “Rae, you never told me we might run into one of your old school buddies and on the third date too. I’m Alistair Crowsly it’s nice to meet you Abbie.” His lying was like art. He played human so very well and adapted to any acting situation quickly. Of course responding to Abbie’s suggestion about the being together was merely to cause Rae great discomfort.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 27, 2012 14:22:35 GMT -5
Abbie was beautiful, it reminded Rae of what she used to be and she did not like to be reminded of her past. It made her feel sick, it made her feel like she wasted her previous life and she did not like to feel that way. Tucking her pale pink hair behind her ear she flinched as he put his arm around her. Rae did not like close physical contact, it made her anxious and it made her feel nauseous. It reminded her of the things that had happened to her. Even as his hand settled on her shoulder a memory flashed into her mind like a photograph;
It had been their second night in Chicago, Rae had been led on the sofa. The house was dark, her mother and Caleb were asleep in the spare room. Her Uncle Taron had come home late. His muscular frame cast a shadow into the room, and Rae blinked, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Since her father had died she had refused to speak to anyone, not even Caleb and as her Uncle came into the room she gave him a cold, spoilt look. She did not want to be in Chicago.
“Aww come on now kid.” He had chuckled, sitting next to her on the sofa, his hand on her knee. “It’s not all bad.”
She remained silent, cold, and he moved his hand from her knee, placing it on her arm. Sat stiffly she rolled her eyes and ignored what she thought was comfort. It wasn’t until she felt his fingers brushing her hair away from her throat and the wet touch of his lips to her throat that she broke her solemn silence. Rae shoved him off; “What the hell-?” He wasn’t even drunk… his hand was swift as it went over her mouth; stopping her from shouting at him any longer.
“Now be a good girl and do as you’re told...” He had said as he pressed her hand into his trousers.
Rae shuddered and stepped out of Alistair’s arm.
Abbie smiled, totally oblivious. “Well, we haven’t seen each other in such a long time.” She explained. “I mean, Rae here dropped out of school when her Daddy went bankrupt, didn’t you darling?”
Rae rolled her eyes. “Do you want a drink, Alistair?” She asked, drawing away from the two of them and leaning on the bar surface, she tried to ignore the conversation as it continued. All of the chance she had at remaining anonymous here was completely gone.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 27, 2012 16:18:30 GMT -5
She stepped out of his arm which he half expected. Her ‘friend’ didn’t seem to notice, or care, and continued to rabbit on unwittingly revealing more and more information about Rae to a Vampyre.
“Really?” Alistair said after he heard about her father going bankrupt. She didn’t look like a rich kid; This Abbie did but not Rae. “Rae never talks about her father.” He admitted in a hushed tone to Abbie as Rae turned her back to them at the bar. It was so easy to dupe humans sometimes.
“So, where did you girls attend anyway?” You could say he was somewhat interested to know where she was from.
“Do you want a drink, Alistair?”
“Rum and coke please, darling.” He answered giving her a quick wink as he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a one hundred dollar clip of banknotes putting it down on the bar. “Drinks are on me, gals.”
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 27, 2012 16:36:19 GMT -5
Rae tried to switch off but she felt herself winding tighter and tighter and tighter on the inside as Abbie talked. She leant on the bar, order two rum and cokes (they even drank the same drink and it was beginning to look more and more couple-like of them, which was grating her nerves to bits). Still, she took the cash and didn’t argue about it. It gave her a distraction.
“King's College School- It's in Wimbledon..?” the girl offered the information as if she was talking about the weather. “And she doesn’t? Oh my god, we all had crushes on Rae’s Daddy, Harry was stunning – he had the darkest eyes- definite DILF.” She giggled.
Rae rolled her eyes, handing him his drink and pocketing the rest of the note clip into her back pocket she pretty much down her drink and swirled the blocks of ice around the tumbler. Placing it on the bar she nodded to the barman for a refill of the same liquor, and was forced to listen to Abbie’s continued chatter.
“Rae, myself and a girl called Ki-Ki were thick as thieves; we had everything, didn’t was dolly?” Abbie asked, wrapping her arms around Rae, who gritted her teeth and just about managed not to growl at her; “But then, when you’re a Chelsea girl you’re expected to have high standard…” Her eyes came to Rae finally; “Are you okay, baby-doll? You look tense- but I do love the pink hair, you’ll have to bring your parents and Caleb- O.M.G I totally forgotten about Caleb- how is he? Is he still beautiful and sweet and funny?”
Rae didn’t answer, she just walked away from the pair of them. This wasn’t happening, seriously.
“-Wow, rude.” She commented, rolling her eyes bitching as she put her hands on her hips.
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Last Edit: Nov 27, 2012 17:18:58 GMT -5 by Rae-Star Berii
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 27, 2012 17:39:03 GMT -5
King’s College? What the hell was a girl from King’s College doing with a silver-loaded pistol? He listened more closely now trying to suss this girl out. Her dad had went bankrupt but what else? Alistair listened as the girl dribbled on and on and finally realised he wasn’t going to get much more interesting information from her. She was starting to become unnecessary.
He noticed her pocket his money and didn’t call her out on it. Money was meaningless to him. That was probably because he had so much of it after all. Many Vampyres were rich. What one could not acquire in a lifetime was more easily acquired in several especially as he has favoured from both the booms and the recessions of the economy. His Sire had left him a lot as well (not much actual cash but he had made quite a bit selling his Sire’s castle in France to some crazy Daemon).
“O.M.G I totally forgotten about Caleb- how is he? Is he still beautiful and sweet and funny?”
Rae just walked away then. That told Alistair more than the last couple of minutes of conversation had. It was a motive. Nobody got into the Hunting business for nothing. Alistair could see a motive right here. This Caleb guy, and possibly her family, must have been murdered by supernaturals. Vampyres or Daemons perhaps.
“Begone…” Alistair said waving off the petty teenager as he turned to follow Rae. It was about time he had a reason to get rid of the whiney teenager. “Who's Caleb?” He asked as he caught up with her. He didn't sound as blunt as the question was. He allowed empathy to creep into his voice.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 27, 2012 17:48:58 GMT -5
Rae glanced at him from the corner of her dark eyes and finished walking away. She went and sat at one of the quieter tables, watching the poker games on the main tables around her. Pulling out the chair, she placed her drink down on the sticky wooden table and then placed the curl of notes there too. Finally, she sat, watching the room as she spoke. Her voice was dark. Angry. Not with him, but with the world. Rae, after all, was just a kid really. She was eighteen…and had been through her own share of hell.
“He was my little brother.” She said, in answer to his question. Was. Not is. If he was smart he would work it out from there. If he had a shred of humanity in him he wouldn’t ask any more about it. But Rae…well she couldn’t get away from it now. “I’m sorry for giving you a false name. It’s my work name…it’s a habit to give it automatically.” She explained, though she didn’t sound particularly sorry in that moment, she just sounded sad.
After it had happened, after her mother and Caleb had been killed she had been on her own. She hadn’t talked about it, not like when her father died. Bankrupt…it was laughable really. Her father had been murdered and the world thought he’d just lost his riches…when really, they’d all lost so much more than that. Anyway, when her father had died she’d had her mother, her brother to console, to talk too, to rely on and be distracted with. When they had been killed she’d had no one. No one to talk too…no one to rant at…or blame or hate…it all bottle up inside her, choking her, rotting her….thinking about it was like poison in her head and every time she thought about it she saw the images, heard the screaming over and over and over again.
If she had been then, the girl she was now, she knew deep down she could’ve stopped it.
Rae was strong, fierce….a fighter, a survivor now. Back then, she had been a frightened, abused, powerless little girl.
Swallowing down bile with another glug of her rum and coke she said; “Caleb was my little brother. He was five…and he killed a few months ago…” It was almost six…was it really so long? It felt like yesterday. Rae stiffened, pushed her fingers through her rainbow coloured hair and went quiet.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 30, 2012 8:44:56 GMT -5
Alistair followed taking a seat opposite her on the table that she chose. He opted to be quiet. She would answer in her own time. He knew she would. He watched silently and waited.
“He was my little brother.”
She looked defeated the scraps of the woman who had held him at gunpoint earlier washed away. However it was not gone. She was like an ember once a small flame she burns hotter though seemingly distinguished and, when fed, she would become twice the fire she used to be.
It was certainly motive; a little brother most likely killed by supernaturals. She looked haunted in that way only a witness could and Alistair knew she’d seen. He found himself hoping, at the very least, it had been a quick and lax on the brutal but, then again, when was it not?
He liked to think simply draining young girls of their blood, though slow, was not a particularly gruesome way of killing nor did he take much pleasure in the killing. It was all about the feeding, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry for giving you a false name. It’s my work name…it’s a habit to give it automatically.”
It made Alistair feel ashamed then that this girl was apologising to him; apologising for just trying to survive. He was probably going to kill her earlier. He might have done terrible sick things to her first though to traumatise her real good before going in for the final kill.
The façade, the mental illusion of superiority to mortal ethics, slipped away under the revelation of actual pain caused by things like him that used humans; most not even for survival like him; and caused anguish to everyone because they thought they were better.
“I’m…” He faltered. What was he going to say? Was he going to apologise to her? “Don’t…” He sighed “don’t apologise.” He answered softly.
“Caleb was my little brother. He was five…and he killed a few months ago…”
That made him sick. He was five. Five. Earlier tonight he had been about to reject a sixteen year old for being too young. He would never do that; he couldn’t. Everybody had to have a code; a rule; something that kept them from the edge. Only Daemons… Only Daemons allowed themselves off the edge. Any Supernatural who let themselves off that edge was just a pseudo-Daemon in another Supernatural’s skin. It sickened him to think, even to consider, that it could have been a fellow Vampyre that did that.
Alistair’s expression became hard and, for the first time that evening, he let an expression out unregulated. It was anger mixed with a hint of disgust. “Daemons.” He said with some malice. “That’s sick. It’s too young. Daemons.” His eyes flickered with rage and a splash of red could be seen faintly on his pale cheeks. He made himself calm down before finally, and quietly, asking "Was it Daemons?"
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 30, 2012 14:32:04 GMT -5
Rae ran her fingers through her hair, raking it back of her face more a moment. As she did the cuff of her pale pink knitted jumper rolled back and to the keen eye they would reveal the claw like scratches on the inside, soft flesh of her forearm. Rae had cut herself, with a razor blade, on and off over the last couple of years. It had taken the pain away, it had been a release, it had allowed her feel something- anything- as numbness had taken over her day-to-day abuse. The marks were old, white scars all save one. She had stopped cutting when Taron had died, but recently, recently she had slipped up and there was one red, rosy line sitting pretty against the bone-white stripes. Rae did not notice the reveal and placed her hand back on the table after its travel through her hair. She drummed her fingernails for a moment then picked up her glass and swigged from it again.
She did not look at him, she looked only at the glass, watching the ice bobbing in the brown liquor and every so often picking up the glass to tip or swirl the cubes around, to make them dance and spin. She wondered momentarily what he would have done to her before- now he seemed to pity her, seemed consumed with a sense of…sympathy. But earlier he had suggested there were so many things he could have done to her- a girl in a trance state. Rae was sure there was nothing he could do to her that had not already happened. She had been beaten, been tied and chained. She’d been coxed and forced and made to beg. There was nothing new he could do…or have done…In her shorts and boots and in her pretty make-up, Rae was pretty; some might even say she was stunning. But she did not see it, did not think about it…could not feel it. It just made her stomach churn. It made her remember the images and the feelings and the pain.
As she watched Abbie working the tables, flirting with the men in her posh little girly way Rae was jealous. She used to be that girl, she used to be like Abbie…until everything had been taken away. Her eyes were open…but she was filled with a vulgar sense of regret that she had not done enough when she had the chance. Sometimes she wanted to go on being naïve and stupid, and blonde…and worrying only about boys and school work and what car she wanted to drive. But sometimes, sometimes she wished her father had told her, sometimes she wished she had known all of this before he had died.
Was it Daemons?
Rae just sighed; “First my father, then my mother, then Caleb- they killed him last.” She said, quietly. For a moment she closed her eyes, in her own little world. She did not wish to relive the moment again, but it would always haunt her. Sighing she seemed to deflate for a moment. When Rae opened her eyes they were swirling, but not with tears as one might think. No, they were angry once more.
Finally she looked up, her attention coming away from the glass of rum and coke. Her eyes went past him to the high roller table and she tipped her head; directing his attention. There was a man at the table. Tall, dark, handsome, and with a devious sparkle in his eyes- the reason she was here in the poker house was that man. Sure, it was a bonus to win back her loan money and that was definitely on the cards (excuse the pun) but the other reason was to get close to the man- the man, who to all those with any inclination towards the supernatural, was not a man. He was a daemon. And Rae knew him. She would never forget him.
He was the first of the three daemons she was going to destroy…she was going to torture them and she was going to kill them in the way they had killed her family.
Not tonight…not yet. She wasn’t ready yet. She had to get closer to him yet…but when she could wait no longer….
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Dec 1, 2012 11:30:57 GMT -5
Red. His eyes were drawn. He was perhaps mortal in one respect. He had needs. Needs given from rosy red little lines. Fresh. He could almost smell it. He wanted it. He wanted her. His fangs slid out for just a second…
It was gone. Alistair was dumped back in reality with a harsh kerplonk. She had moved her arm. That one rosy line had been concealed. Alistair was safe again. It was easy to resist when there was no blood and he’d fed quite recently. It was so easy right now though, like a shark, when blood came to his attention it was the only thing that there was. He hadn’t even got to examine the cut; to identify its cause. He assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary but his Sire had always taught him to consume every detail because one just might mean the difference between afterlife and death.
“First my father, then my mother, then Caleb- they killed him last.”
He wondered how she survived. He looked into those eyes burning once again and he didn’t know what to think. It seemed as if her family were targeted. How did she survive? He had this horrible feeling that she’d hid somewhere. She’d had to watch. She looked like she’d watched. Frankly she looked like his Demonic Visage would just be a recount of that night.
Well she had looked like that. Now she looked like she was going to make those Daemons pay. She was going to make them feel every anguished scream; every nightmare; ever waking moment of recollection.
She suddenly looked past him redirecting her attention from her most fascinating drink. Before she’d even tipped her head he’d turned to glance in the direction she was looking. The man wasn’t exactly obvious but he had a mysterious allure to him that reeked of either Daemon or Vampyre origin though, judging by the way people seemed to shrink away from him, Alistair would put him down to being a Daemon. He wondered if… No, it couldn’t be…
Alistair turned his attention back to Rae and saw a look in her eyes that erased all doubts. “Did he..?” Alistair asked hesitantly. “Did he murder your family?” Alistair asked throwing hesitation to the wind. He stared depply into her eyes watching for her reaction; watching for that telltale answer that would come before she could even open her mouth.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 1, 2012 11:49:11 GMT -5
The more she thought about it the more the images came swimming back;
It was late; darkness filled the outside world she was sat on the sofa rocking Caleb. Her mother was in the kitchen making dinner; Rae could smell the spicy sauce as it cooked, hear her mother and her uncle laughing quietly. Rae hated him. She wanted him to drop dead. She blamed her mother, even as she played with her young brother in her arms, she blamed that woman, was annoyed that she could laugh and joke with him even when she knew what her brother-in-law was doing to her daughter.
They brought the dinner into the living room on trays, as they did every night and Rae placed her little brother down on the floor to pick at his. Taron had sat next to her, he had placed his hand on her knee and fed her a bite of his meal; he acted like they were a fucking couple…and her mother just turned a blind eye.
There had been a knock at the door; three men had come in, barrelled in. Before Rae even knew what was happening her mother had been restrained, she had been picked up by the hair.
“Pretty little things you have here, T.” The daemon hissed, and Rae remembered the wet of his fingers as he run them down her cheek. “Give us the damned money and we might let one of them live.”
He’d refused, he’d god-damned refused and they killed her mother first. Rae had watched, held by a daemon so much stronger than she had, forced to watch, to keep her eyes open as her mother was burnt alive…the whole house catching alight. She could smell the flesh, hear the crackling of the carpet…all of it under the horrific screams from her mother’s lips as the flesh burnt away from her bones.
For all his sins, Taron had loved Rae. IT was the only way she could justify what he did, because he gave them the money and when they had let Rae go he had pulled her so close to him she could feel his heart beating in his chest.
“Only one we said-“
Rae had screamed, she had screamed and begged and cried as they tore her baby brothers limbs apart, she had turned away to vomit when they had feasted on his eyes… Taron had sent her away before the end, he had shoved her away into the bedroom- whispered her instructions into her ear. She had taken a black leather bound box from under the bed and she had run…and run and run.
Rae shivered, drawing a long shaky breath and pushed the memory aside to hear his questions. Rae didn’t need to nod, she didn’t need to respond. She knew as much, because when she turned to look at him, she met his eyes and held his gaze and there was a look about her of a girl who could only think of revenge.
Finally, she spoke; “Sorry, friend, but when you bumped into me in the alleyway tonight, it was not the best night for you to be doing so.” She had other things on her mind, it explained her furry at him for trying to kill her. “Look- I can take care of myself.” She told him, not unkindly, but bluntly. “I don’t need pity, and I certainly don’t need it from you- but that…creature” She almost spat the word; “I-I watched him…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it…she couldn’t find the words and they seemed to choke her. “And he’s going to pay for that.”
