vampire von abgemeldet (an epic Vincent/Yazoo vampire story) ================================================================================ Kapitel 42: ------------ 42 It had been a cold winter, just like this one. The wind was howling with the wolves from the nearby forests, and thick snow had trapped the villagers in their houses for weeks. The castle the houses were hunched around did not provide them with the much needed security from the storms, it only hovered over their crumbled, drafty shacks and soared into the cloudy sky like a broken tooth. A view fields away a band of armed persons was standing in the high, frosty snow. Two partys had gathered, standing opposite each other and glowering at one another with hostility and bloodlust. A flag was almost torn by the wind as the young lord of the castle sat on his black horse in full armor, a sword strapped to his hip. His men, mostly farmers, craftsmen and a few warriors waited for his command, lined up against the enemy, whose army consisted of similar forces. The winter had been too long, the stocks were emptying at an alarming rate and now it was a battle for survival. It was either fighting, with the possible premisse of winning and filling their warehouses with the other parties remaining food, or starving anyways. Eventually the young Lord of the castle drew his sword, his horse making a restless step forward underneath him and without much ceremony thrust his hoes into the horses flanks. With a loud neigh, horseman and animal dashed over the stony, frozen field, followed by the screaming men into the crowd of enemies that had been former friends and neighbours. It was a hacking and slaying for survival, limbs and guts were falling to the ground, people were screaming as their primitive weapons, former sickles, knives and badly crafted swords were swirling around, as almost none of the fighters had ever witnessed swordsmenship at all. It was ugly, primitive and full of despair. It looked good for Vincent´s group, as far as he could see his men were hacking themselves an advantage. That was, until he felt something sticking out of his stomache and watched red droplets slowly gathering around the shaft of the stick and falling into his lap. The sudden urge to cough made another gush of blood adding to the sattle and as if in slow motion the picture in front of him changed to the vertical and he hit the ground with a painful crush of his shoulders. Screams were heard, dull and far away from him and his blurred vision, people that cried that he had fallen, that he was dead and he vaguely noticed how chaos around him ensued. Feet were running through his field of sight, stumbling over torn arms and frozen stones and then a man fell to the ground with glassy eyes just a few inches away from his nose, but he didn´t really see… The pain, the pain was so bad it made everything else redundant, reducing it to a mass of pointless sounds and shakes that were so unimportant because it hurt, and please could someone just make it stop?! Vincent Valentine lay in the snowstorm for hours without any of the dead men around him hearing his fragmented, silent pleading. It was his fortune, or maybe unfortune, that his body was so very healthy and strong, though he felt it going numb slowly as the blood dropped from his gutwound, intermingling with the white surface and leaving him in a puddle that began to freeze to the ground already. The agony did not cease however, and as the light had gone and the howling of the hungry wolves came nearer, decoyed by the promising smell of human blood and food, he almost welcomed them. Before they could feast on him however, a dark presence that came walking over the field ordered them away. A black boot came into Vincent´s fevered sight, standing a moment beside him before it prodded him cruelly into the side and making his stomach explode with new, unknown angry fires, eliciting a harsh groan from the man. In retrospective, he did not know where he had taken the energy from, but seeing a chance to let himself be released from his agony he whispered his barely audible plea. A gaunt, hudded face with a hawk nose came into view, a dark eyebrow arched and thin lips drawn into something that might have resembled a smile. “Kill you?” the voice of the man said, and a gackling laugh followed. “I don´t think so. You seem strong. Look at that nasty wound, and you are still alive… No, I will not kill you. I will give you something better. You will make a splendid test subject…” The man smiled his creepy smile more to himself, and then Vincent felt himself lifted from the ground and the stick in his body shifted again and this time his mind couldn´t bear it anylonger. With another groan Vincent Valentine lost conciousness and only hours later he should wish for never having left that condition ever again. * When he woke he felt as thirsty as never before in his life. It was such an all consuming feeling that Vincent did not even feel the lack of heartbeat, or that he was chained to a wet stone wall in a pitch black cellar. “Oh, I see my guest has finally decided to grace us with his attention,” a voice chuckled, the young landlord knew from somewhere… A faintly familiar face came into view, grabbed his chin and gave him a scrutinizing look. “Thirsty,” the black haired young man croaked, wildly looking through the room for something that would relieve him. “Ah, I know I know…” the man looked at him still without doing anything to help quench his thirst, but eventually followed Vincents line of view as the man had stopped rattling at the chains and eyed something standing on a table and glistening in the faint light that forced its way from under the wooden door. “You want that?” the thin man asked amusedly and Vincent gave a sharp nod. “Well then, you shall have it.” The stranger turned around and hobbled over to the cup, grabbing it with spidery fingers and held it into Vincent´s face. Just as he was about to greedily slurp from it, the other man quickly withdrew his hand,holding a finger into is face instead. “Ah, ah, ah, not so hasty young man. What does one do if a person is so kind as to help one out of a difficult situation?” Vincent just eyed him with feverish, uncomprehending gazes. He was so thirsty… “One says ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’.” The hawknose informed him. “T-than-k you…” Vincent groaned, as it was the only think he had been able to make out from the sounds. “Mh, that´s not quite right I´m afraid,” the man looked thoughtful, but then just shrugged. “Well, you will learn soon enough.” And with that he held the cup against the others lip, watching him greedily drink from the clear liquid. He made a step back and surely a moment later a fountain of water emerged from his victims mouth as he cought and wailed in his misery. The man chuckled, obviously finding his little joke quite amusing. “Now, now,” he good-naturedly smacked the man on his abused arm, going towards the door. “Just you wait, I will bring you something much better. Lucrecia!” he shouted into the hallway and only moments later a woman appeared before him. “Bring our guest his meal.” Despite his hazy state, the vampire could even later, much much later remember how sweet her voice had sounded over the waves of pain that had rocked his dead body. How tempting and distracting from that nightmare… Only moments later something awfully good smelling was held to his lips and his body authomatically took the necessary actions, pushing out his teeth and sanking them into the flesh of a five year old child that was his own. It didn´t matter to him at that moment though, as the pleasure washed away all the agony and pain he had experienced within the last few hours. Only when he came down to earth and recognized the small figure of his little girl laying at his feet did he scream, but there was no one there to hear it. He refused the next meals, consisting of his wife and his son, but the hawknosed man only smiled his creepy, knowing smile and came back every night to hold their throats and horrified, pleading faces under his nose. And he could only hold out for so long before the starving, thirsting demons betrayed him and took controle and he was going mad and their dead faces look up at him and he could not bare to look at them, but there was nowhere else to look and he was already so thirsty again and wished that they wouldn´t be dead, but full of live and laughter again and blood, blood, heneededbloodnow! The only thing that kept him sane during the tests Hojo, as the man had introduced him at some time, performed at him was his maid, or adopted daughter as he had called her, Lucrecia. From time to time she slipped into the room when her master was gone and washed his face, spoke to him in soft whispers and told him that it was alright. It didn´t make the pain go away, but it cooled his feverish soul. He did not know what had become of him, or where he was or why he was being tortured, but she tried to let it made sense. Lucrecia could not tell him where was, but she could say that he was now a bloodsucker, a creature that could only survive by drinking mortals´ blood and subsequently kill them. She told him a few other things about them, about their inability to live during the day and their fear for the cross, but that he had already experienced himself as Hojo had burned his flesh with a crucifix to see how severe the wounds could become. Lucrecia also informed him about her maker´s goals, namely to find out more about their race, their capabilities and their limits. Apparently Vincent wasn´t the first of Hojo´s victims, but decidedly the strongest, which didn´t make him proud in the least. Sometimes, when he wasn´t able to talk -for example at that one time when Hojo had pulled out his teeth to see how long it would take for them to grow back- she just settled down to his feet and with her clear voice started reading out stories to him, tales about forest demons and witches, fairies, dragons, knights and princesses that were leading a peacuful life away from his hellish nightmare. And so it came that he did not reckon time by the nights that past by, but that Vincent counted the occassions when she would appear before him with her gentle smile and soft hands, an epithome of warmth and kindness, his safe haven in this madness. More than once did he try to coax her to leave with him, but she always just smiled a sad smile, brushing her lips over his and leaving his cell with a bounce of her ponytail. It was not before his transformation that he could even seriously think about making his escape. But to his immense luck, it happened at a night where Hojo had decided that he had more important things to do than visiting his prisoner, that Vincent writted in sudden agony. And after what seemed like hours, two wet, leathery wings hung from his back, soar and unusuable. But the rest of his body had also undergone a dramatic change. His fingers had changed into claws, violently twitching with unknown strenght, and despite his lack of intake of food, the chains had not taken his violent trashing well, bursting under the full force of his desperation. After he had freed himself, he had limped to the door, panting and clinging to the wall for support. His loud roaring had stirred some commotion, and he could hear light feet hurrying down the stone stairs. Only seconds later his door was opened and he grapped for the creature with one of his clawed hands, lusting for to just crush his torturer. But a frightened voice pleaded to him, and his demon eyes noticed that it wasn´t his tormentor he was holding. Letting go of his only ray of hope, he leaned against the wall heavily. She had backed away from his intimidating figure, but then her soft hands had carefully taken his exhausted face, and he had grabbed her again, holding her tightly to his trembling form for the first time. After that, Lucrecia didn´t have much of a choice. It was either pinning him back to the wall and making him suffer for another 50 years, maybe less if he was no longer of interest for Hojo, or take the chance of the man´s absence and go as far away as they could. The journey was a bit of a blur, he couldn´t remember much, just the changing of the tombs they rested in and the endless wanderings on foot and occasional flights. Lucrecia hadn´t been able to transform yet, as she wasn´t much older as a vampire than Vincent. He could remember though, that she had told him that she knew of others like them, a group of vampires that held no high opinion of Hojo and that they would certainly take them in. Vincent had just dazedly nodded at everything, not caring where Lucrecia would take him as long as it wasn´t that cellar and as long as she remained by his side. The next thing the vampire could remember clearly again was a dark box he was lying in and voices coming from outside. It was the first memory of ever having slept in a coffin and as he should learn later it was only due to his remarkable strenght and will that he had survived until that night without ever facing a burial case from the inside. At this time however, he did not appreciate his location at all and just bustet it open, coming to kneel on the wodden littered floor with feral eyes. The voices around him ceased instantly, but the next moment a familiar figure crouched down by his side, holding his face between her hands and explaining softly that everything was alright now, and that they were safe. Sceptically he watched his surroundings. They were standing, or better kneeling in a high stone hall, that was lit by hundreds of candles. Coffins, many many coffins were standing in rows around him. Several men and women stood in front of them in a circle, dressed in fine clothing and looking at them with curious, unafraid eyes. “He seems to be quite a little something,” a cool, smooth voice remarked amusedly and from the shadow a tall, beautiful man emerged, his long silver hair swaying behind him. He approached them and the crowd divided, respectfully bowing their heads. A low growl builded inside Vincent´s throat, warning the man to come any nearer, but Lucrecia just laid her hand on his upper arm and stood, bowing her head as well. “He must be something if he survived Hojo´s tests for, what did you say? 50 years?” “54,” she corrected him respectfully, throwing Vincent a look that said that he should follow her example and bow before him, but the man held his hands up in a dismissing gesture. “Please do not strain yourself. We can leave the pleasantries for later. I assume you must be quite hungry?” Vincent just nodded, licking his lips and letting himself be helped up by his girlfriend. “Well then, follow me please. We shall have a meal that will satisfy your hunger.” Leaning on Lucrecia for support, they followed the man, that introduced himself as Sephiroth on the way out, leaving the bedroom and the whispering group behind. They walked what seemed to be an endless maze of catacombs and halls, meeting other vampires on the way, that all shuffled to the side and respectfully bowed before Sephiroth and his guests. “Who are they?” Vincent asked hoarsly, glancing at them from behind his dark hair. “Those?” Sephiroth turned another corner. “Those are my brothers and sisters. Some of them are my children and apprentices, but that shall not bother you. They will do you no harm if I do not wish for it.” Vincent did not know what he should think about the implicite threat, but he made a mental note to remain wary. Eventually they came to a large gate, guarded by two vampires with black cloaks. “Here we are. This is our storeroom. Usually you will not be allowed to enter after dinner, but given the circumstances I will make an exception.” Lucrecia thankfully bowed and Vincent followed her example this time, but not nearly as respectful as she. A sweet, mesmerizing smell was quelling through the door, though he also could hear faint voices and weeping. Sephiroth gave the guardians a short nod and each of them pulled at a large metal ring on the door, making it go open slowly. Once they stepped inside the room, Vincent´s hunger was instantly gone and he bent over, averting his eyes and holding his mouth. It was stinking of fecals, urine, sweat and rotten flesh. The hall was immensly huge and barely lit, but he did not need the light to see what travesty was showing itself in front of his bewildered eyes. On the ground stood large iron cages. And in them, jammed together, were people of all gender and age. Young and old, men and women, fat and slim, ill and healthy. From the ceiling hung even more cages, the garbage and their body liquids just dropping into the cages underneath them. Upon noticing the three visitors, a screaming and crying started, everyone trying to get away from them as far as they could. Some corpses were just trampled over, as the vampire´s hadn´t bothered to take them out. Most of the people didn´t even resemble human beings anymore. They were mere animals that tried to safe their wretched lifes for just a night longer, not caring if they had to sacrifice brother, wife or mother for their own survival. “What is with him?” Sephiroth asked with an arched eyebrow upon Vincent´s brake down. “Nothing,” Lucrecia mumbled, bending over her friend and stroking over his back “it has just been so long since he drank, is all.” “Well, he does not have to suffer from thirst from now on, he can take whatever and how often he wants. Please, choose whoever suits your taste,” the silver haired man graciously held his hand out towards the cages and their poor inhabitants, smiling at his guests. Seeing that Vincent was in no condition to make a choice himself, Lucrecia just randomly pointed at two men that looked relatively healthy and the guardians went to pull them out of their cages, throwing them before their feet. They cried and pleaded, but even if Vincent had wanted to spare their lifes, the demons just took over in need again and a minute later they sank to floor with empty eyes. After Lucrecia had taken her meal too, Sephiroth led them to another hall that occupied a large wooden tub filled with hot water and a chair with some cloths on them. “They should be about his seize. He can search for his own cloths later. Please take your time and meet me at the entrance hall later.” He bid them farewell and locked the door behind them, leaving them alone. TBC ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Xyleel: Jaha, sie ist erstmal wech, die olle^^ Obwohl sie gleich wieder auftaucht, in Vinnies Geschichte... Hm. Und na klar hat Vincent zu Yazoo gehalten, ich konnte mir ja nicht selbst das Herz brechen. Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)