Oh gods I swore I would NEVER do this
Nov. 28th, 2003 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessAnd the blame lies solely with Thistle_dear's Bonnie the most evil Puck there has ever been.
And I'm not at all sure whether to make this canon. Probably not.
Ian ghosted through the quiet alleyway, trying to keep the pale man in his sights. Father Michael’s words still ran through his head, leaden and cold with such hard condemnation that even Ian had found them hard to hear. The words had been nothing compared to the look in the old man’s eyes. Ian had flinched back and looked away. It had been a long time since he was clean enough to meet that relentless piercing gaze. It had been a long time since he ever even cared about being clean.
But it had to stop. This gang was vicious. No, it was worse than vicious. It was perverted in the worse ways, it was cruel for the sheer sake of cruelty, sometimes not even because they enjoyed the suffering of others (though their capacity for sadism seemed to know no bounds), it was almost as if cruelty was their standard modus operandi. They were cruel, as naturally as people breathed, ceasing their mindless rampage into torture was as alien to them as the depths of space.
People killed almost at random, simply because they ere there was bad enough. The thoughtlessness of it made it some of the worst things Ian had ever encountered. But that had paled to nothing when they had discovered what happened to those people the gang did take an interest in. The worse thing? The worse thing was that there were survivors. Survivors that turned even Ian’s stomach. They couldn't be taken to the hospital, there was nothing any hospital could even begin to do to try and ease the suffering of these wretched remains of humanity. It would be an act of terrible cruelty, a sin Father Michaels called it, to take them to the hospital, where the dutiful doctors and nurses would fight to keep them alive, to try and heal them. To prolong the agony.
There had been only one mercy for those people. The mercy of the knife. The mercy of the cold earth. The mercy of remembrance. The mercy of revenge.
Ian had granted the first three gifts of mercy. He still felt the cuts in his heart; scars that would never heal, scars that he would never let heal. The last mercy remained. He would not fail.
************************************************
Ethan had finally managed to get out of the bar, pulling on his little invisibility trick to evade Andrea’s attentions. He had been looking for an exit for some time, he was pretty certain she’d have run out of victims by now. She and the Twins had certainly indulged themselves. At least the Twins generally killed the poor sods after they’d finished, or sometimes before they'd finished. There was something very not right about them two. But Andrea delighted in leaving her victims alive. Missing fingers toes, eyes, limbs or any number of other appendages, but they still lived. It was one of her talents, one of her strongest talents that absolutely fascinated Matthew. She could control death, not by much, not in a horde of zombies and ghosts kind of way - but enough to make sure a person who should have long since died from their injuries to hold onto life. No matter what they would want. It didn’t last long, maybe a week or two at most... but it lasted long enough to be well and truly creepy.
Ethan generally found that to be even more stupid than Matthew’s experiments. At least they had some point, and could generally be ascribed to being mortal serial killers by the ever-delusional mortal press. Even the Twins near impossible perversions on the twitching, pleading bodies of their victims could be blamed on some crazed human if you had enough imagination. Though, Ethan had to concede, anyone who could imagine what the Twins were doing to that crowd of eleven people they’d sewn together with the sinews of two others had to be halfway insane in the first place. But Andrea’s playthings were hard to ignore. All it would take was one nosy doctor or one curious pathologist declaring that these people should have been dead days ago, that it was impossible and the shit would definitely hit the fan. Some of them had no heartbeat and were still moving around screaming and groaning, or muttering the phrases Andrea had taught them to say. It amused her to have them mumble out endless streams of blasphemies and obscenities then have Lex dump them in a church or an old folk’s home or something. Really, really stupid, not to mention childish. She was going to bring witch hunters down on them at this rate.
Ethan had to admit that what really pissed him off was the waste. The Twins were covered in blood, literally every inch of their skin covered in a tacky sheen of blood. Andrea looked like she’d bathed in it. The room Matthew had used for his experiments was so full of blood that the carpet was completely saturated, blood seeping through the underlay and even through the floorboards. It was actually beginning to drip through the roof, like someone upstairs had let their bath overflow, but far more morbid. Even Bazza, who didn’t really have the imagination for any long term tortures, had crushed the heads of dozens of people without thinking about it, leaving them to rot, wasted, wherever he happened to be at the time. Hell, even Lex was littering bodies round the place, first that motorcycle gang that dared to insult her bike, then all those cops who tried to pull her over for speeding. All that blood, and he’d not gotten more than a few drops! He was near starving here too!
He stalked the streets trying to find some dinner. It was getting bloody difficult to find anything living around after dark any more in this area. He really hated house breaking; there was always something to go wrong, and any household pets tended to freak when he was around. Besides, the police tended not to go too far out of their way when a vagrant or whore disappeared or turned up bloodless in the back of an alley. Looks like he was going to have to go half way across town just to feed. At least it would get him away from the rest of the guys when they got bored.
************************************************
Ian ghosted quietly from shadow to shadow, still some distance away from the vampire. The creature was incredible. Its skin was so pale it seemed to glow in the thin moonlight, gathering that silver touch into his alabaster skin. His eyes were red, a pure deep crimson that had broken out of the irises and swallowed the whole eye. The eyes did glow, no seeming about it, casting ruby shadows before them. Its hair danced in the still air. It was incredible. Amazingly beautiful and beyond inhuman.
He knew better than to close it yet, the undead had incredible hearing. He had to take this chance though; he may never get another one. He had been watching this gang for weeks and one thing he knew for certain; taking them all on was suicide. Taking down even one of them would be extremely difficult. It wasn't just the power level, though Father Michaels had been shocked that they were all so powerful. He said that meant someone even more powerful must have been holding them together. Vampires were like that, without an alpha they tended to fight until they had one. That was worrying above all, these guys could all pretty much qualify as alpha in most places.
But no, worse than the power was the professionalism. These guys were suspicious, wary and ready at all times. They had weapons and they knew how to use them, not just in a street-fighting experienced kind of way, but in a way that spoke of deadly training hardened by veteran use. He couldn't sneak up on them or any building they held. He could try and pose as a prospective lover, but having seen what they did to most of their partners he doubted he would be in any condition to bring them down.
Finally one had split off from the group without any support. He couldn’t waste this opportunity.
************************************************
Food was scarce tonight. Damn, how far had Andrea ranged anyway? Hah, the government should hire her as a new initiative to clean up the streets. He’d bet there were at least a few parties who’d go with it. He’d call it a night, he knew the others would. Well, no they wouldn’t, they’d be busting into a house right now, but then they had the power to do that and be pretty certain nothing on the other side of the door was going to be able to stop them. Knowing his luck, he’d bust down a door and run face first into a werewolf pack. The gang could risk that. Hell, Andrea and Bazza would go out of their way to get it, they loved slaughtering the shapeshifters, said it kept them in their place. Ethan imagined having a pack rip him apart would hardly help their efforts. Actually it’d probably really piss them off... that was almost reason enough to do it.
Of course the gang could afford to miss a night’s feeding. Wasn’t really an option for him. Either someone died tonight; there was nowhere near enough time to feed without killing someone, or a lot of someones died tomorrow. He really didn’t want to spend the best part of tomorrow night hunting.
****************************************************
The vampire was looking for something... he seemed to be hunting. Ian nearly gave himself away as the shock hit him, only iron self-control and decades of training held him to the utter stillness in the shadows. It helped that vampires were natural predators. A prey animal looked for the shadows in the dark that stalked them. The predator looked for his next meal, not for alert for something with violent dinner plans. The ultimate predator didn't have to worry about its position in the food chain. It was arrogant. Careless. And this one was not nearly so well trained as its fellows.
He sidled to a nearby alley, quietly emptying the large bag around his shoulder in strategic places in the darkness, close to hand but well hidden. He spared a brief second to check the ground, every loose pebble on the floor that could affect footing, the contours of the walls and how it would affect something hitting them. He changed nothing, just stored them away as he’d been taught long ago. Everything was a weapon. The ground beneath your feet, the air that surrounded you, the smallest detail most would not even see, if it could help you kill, it was a weapon. Everything could help you kill, if you knew how.
He was ready. As ready as anyone could be facing one of the undead predators. He coughed. Loud and deliberate. Before the vampire turned he’d already curved his spine and rolled his feet, making him seem taller, more lithe, drawing attention to long legs and tight backside. His smile was welcoming, salacious and just slightly naive, perfect for predators of all stripes.
******************************************************
Ethan turned, forcing himself to do it slowly, not to seem jumpy. Andrea and the perverted twosome were unlikely to be so gentile about announcing themselves.
It was a human. A rent boy by the look of him. And a bloody beautiful one at that. Blond hair just long enough to play with but not too long to get in the way. Green eyes that sparkled even in the darkness, and a perfect curve of really full lips. His whole body screamed “tasty but vulnerable” he was perfect.
Too perfect. Ethan hadn’t lived around the people had for as long as he had to be taken in easily. He was stood in a shaft of moonlight, he knew what he looked like, and he was making no real effort to disguise it. There were humans desperate enough for money to ignore his alien appearance, but they didn't usually look like that.
Besides, Ethan didn’t hear him ‘till he coughed. Most vamps wouldn’t be looking for him, but most vamps haven’t been living with Andrea and the Twins for the past decade. If Ethan didn’t hear him, then he was trying not to be heard. Alright he could have just been checking out the vampire before he took the risk of approaching him, but if he checked out the freaky supernaturally glowing undead monster and STILL decided to draw attention to himself, exactly whom would he avoid?
Then again, Ethan didn't think he would have spotted any of this if it weren't for the man's aura. Generally he marked this up as yet another great talent that he did better than the other vampires in the gang (mainly since the only other vampires in the gang who could read auras at all were Michael and Albert himself) but at the same time was utterly useless when it came to protecting himself against them rearranging his anatomy. Still, it came in handy sometimes. Like now. The gorgeous guy’s stance and smile screamed ‘tasty snack.’ The man’s aura darkly whispered ‘predator’. He was good. Hell, he was a brilliant actor, but he couldn’t control his aura, at least not well enough to confuse him.
He kept his distance, and stared at the supposed rent boy with an unblinking scarlet gaze.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“I’m not falling for it, Hunter. Cut the act.”
Ian didn't hesitate. He dropped his smile and luscious invitation instantly; face falling to the emotionless mask that was its natural state. “How did you see through me?”
“Should I tell you? I think teaching a Hunter how to perfect his skills is probably not good practice for a vampire.”
“Granted. But one of us isn’t leaving tonight. Your group is too dangerous, too evil to let live.”
Ethan laughed. He laughed so long that Ian could have probably killed him three times over if he didn’t suspect a trap. “Don’t judge me on my friends. I’m not saying I’m any better, frankly I don't care whether any of you blood bags live or die, you’ll all be dead in fifty years time anyway, might as well be useful before you go.”
Ian tightened his grip on the blade in his sleeve, eyes narrowing to a pure visage of death in the darkness.
Ethan pretended not to notice. “No, I'm not nearly as dangerous as them. And they hate me, or think of me as little more than a toy. Whatever I am, I am theirs, like it or not. Trust me, it’s not. But they protect what’s theirs, not because I mean anything to them, but because they can't afford to be challenged like that. You might as well ram that pretty blade in your heart right now - if Andrea catches you death is the best you can hope for.”
Ian didn't flinch. Barely even waited for the echoes to die before he was moving, blade in his other hand coming round in a deadly, narrow arc.
It didn't work. Ethan saw it coming, almost before Ian had moved. By the time the knife was in striking distance, the vampire had already moved in near eye blurring speed, one hand lashing out like a serpent. The two staggered back away from each other, well out of arm’s reach.
Ian moved his shoulder stiffly. He'd managed to move quickly enough to stop the vampire shattering his arm. But only barely. Ethan moved back warily, all liquid muscle and feline grace, making the human seem almost clumsy, and impressive feat considering that the Hunter moved like oiled silk. There was a long slash down his stomach, precious blood leaked down his shirt. He ignored it.
Ian felt the adrenaline flow, the pain fade and the world come into sharp focus. He knew he would probably die here. Humans couldn’t fight the monsters, not and win.
They circled, warily. Both trying to stop the direction the other was trying to go. Both trying to gain control through a subtle game of eye contact feints and body language. Knives danced through Ian’s fingers, holy water rattled from pocket to hand to pocket. Stakes peeked from their hiding places. Ethan’s eyes glowed, he moved in quick darting motions that challenged the human eye to follow. His hands flexed, strong fingers curling. Long fangs flared through snarling lips.
The air crackled with tension. Someone would die tonight.
The air split.
Laughter split the night. Wild and strong. It was the sound of the dancing wind during a storm. The sound of the rushing river through rapids. It was good and evil, chaotic and uncontrollable, powerful and imaginative and unimaginable. It defied description; it cried inspiration. It was the moon in her feral revel, the gods in their vicious playfulness and the land in its awesome majesty. It was older than time and younger than the newest born babe. As wise as the most venerable elder, as foolish as the most drunken adolescent. It was everything. It was nothing.
A red balloon floated gently from the empty sky. On unfelt winds it flowed between the two would be combatants.
And there, it burst.
Power flowed outwards, subtle and energetic. It flowed around the two predators. Inexorably the fury of conflict was overwhelmed by an older, hotter, stronger power. Lust burned in their hearts, need danced in their eyes.
They came together at a run, unable to resist each other, as the sea was unable to resist the pull of the moon. Their hands touched first, sliding over each other, cold skin against hot flesh as their bodies came together. Heat and cold mingled, and both burned on the raging fires within.
Their lips hit each other with such violence they bruised. Ian marvelled at the strength in the vampire's hands, felt his flesh bruise over and over as the undead ripped at his clothes, hands reaching for warm skin like a man dying of thirst for water. One snaked it’s way into his jeans, the heavy material ripping like paper before the desperate onslaught as that pale cold hand encircled his straining cock, rubbing with near frenzied intensity.
Ethan’s vision faded to red as the hunter’s hands moved with near surgical precision. Buttons were unfastened before he knew what was happening, before he even felt the hands touch him. They slid insidiously between the folds of cloth of even his tightest clothing, not stopping their advance until they found their goal. There they stroked with professional expertise that brought animal sounds from Ethan’s throat.
Their tongues probed into each other’s mouths, fighting to gain control, to gain the upper hand, like erotic arm wrestling. Their hands were buried at each other’s groins; wet slipping sounds competing with the sound of Ian's heavy breathing and Ethan’s animal growls.
It grew impossibly, rising unbelievably quickly inside them. They pressed their bodies still harder together; Ethan's pale skin and night black hair was cold against Ian’s tanned flesh and shining blond locks. They were both lost to a lunatic need that went beyond mere lust. Their hands moved ever faster, the other hand probing and searching, feeling through ragged dishevelled clothing to control yet more of each beautiful body.
In the same amazing instant they were both pushed over that shining edge of orgasm. It was electric, so powerful; they both fell backwards as if before hammer blows. They writhed uncontrollably on the floor, the light of the moon glistening in red and green eye alike.
They lay supine for a seeming age. They lay for so long that the sky began to lighten in the east and the moons hold on the city began to give ground to the encroaching sun. Groggily they pulled themselves to their feet.
They regarded each other in silence for several long minutes. Faces so different wore identical expressions of confusion, afterglow and fear. The sun crept closer to the horizon.
In silence the two stepped slowly away from each other. Warily retreating, both worked their way out of the alley, never letting the other out of their sight until, finally, a wall separated them.
Sometimes stranger things than vampires stalked the night. And sometimes it was a victory just to be able to leave before dawn.
And I'm not at all sure whether to make this canon. Probably not.
Ian ghosted through the quiet alleyway, trying to keep the pale man in his sights. Father Michael’s words still ran through his head, leaden and cold with such hard condemnation that even Ian had found them hard to hear. The words had been nothing compared to the look in the old man’s eyes. Ian had flinched back and looked away. It had been a long time since he was clean enough to meet that relentless piercing gaze. It had been a long time since he ever even cared about being clean.
But it had to stop. This gang was vicious. No, it was worse than vicious. It was perverted in the worse ways, it was cruel for the sheer sake of cruelty, sometimes not even because they enjoyed the suffering of others (though their capacity for sadism seemed to know no bounds), it was almost as if cruelty was their standard modus operandi. They were cruel, as naturally as people breathed, ceasing their mindless rampage into torture was as alien to them as the depths of space.
People killed almost at random, simply because they ere there was bad enough. The thoughtlessness of it made it some of the worst things Ian had ever encountered. But that had paled to nothing when they had discovered what happened to those people the gang did take an interest in. The worse thing? The worse thing was that there were survivors. Survivors that turned even Ian’s stomach. They couldn't be taken to the hospital, there was nothing any hospital could even begin to do to try and ease the suffering of these wretched remains of humanity. It would be an act of terrible cruelty, a sin Father Michaels called it, to take them to the hospital, where the dutiful doctors and nurses would fight to keep them alive, to try and heal them. To prolong the agony.
There had been only one mercy for those people. The mercy of the knife. The mercy of the cold earth. The mercy of remembrance. The mercy of revenge.
Ian had granted the first three gifts of mercy. He still felt the cuts in his heart; scars that would never heal, scars that he would never let heal. The last mercy remained. He would not fail.
************************************************
Ethan had finally managed to get out of the bar, pulling on his little invisibility trick to evade Andrea’s attentions. He had been looking for an exit for some time, he was pretty certain she’d have run out of victims by now. She and the Twins had certainly indulged themselves. At least the Twins generally killed the poor sods after they’d finished, or sometimes before they'd finished. There was something very not right about them two. But Andrea delighted in leaving her victims alive. Missing fingers toes, eyes, limbs or any number of other appendages, but they still lived. It was one of her talents, one of her strongest talents that absolutely fascinated Matthew. She could control death, not by much, not in a horde of zombies and ghosts kind of way - but enough to make sure a person who should have long since died from their injuries to hold onto life. No matter what they would want. It didn’t last long, maybe a week or two at most... but it lasted long enough to be well and truly creepy.
Ethan generally found that to be even more stupid than Matthew’s experiments. At least they had some point, and could generally be ascribed to being mortal serial killers by the ever-delusional mortal press. Even the Twins near impossible perversions on the twitching, pleading bodies of their victims could be blamed on some crazed human if you had enough imagination. Though, Ethan had to concede, anyone who could imagine what the Twins were doing to that crowd of eleven people they’d sewn together with the sinews of two others had to be halfway insane in the first place. But Andrea’s playthings were hard to ignore. All it would take was one nosy doctor or one curious pathologist declaring that these people should have been dead days ago, that it was impossible and the shit would definitely hit the fan. Some of them had no heartbeat and were still moving around screaming and groaning, or muttering the phrases Andrea had taught them to say. It amused her to have them mumble out endless streams of blasphemies and obscenities then have Lex dump them in a church or an old folk’s home or something. Really, really stupid, not to mention childish. She was going to bring witch hunters down on them at this rate.
Ethan had to admit that what really pissed him off was the waste. The Twins were covered in blood, literally every inch of their skin covered in a tacky sheen of blood. Andrea looked like she’d bathed in it. The room Matthew had used for his experiments was so full of blood that the carpet was completely saturated, blood seeping through the underlay and even through the floorboards. It was actually beginning to drip through the roof, like someone upstairs had let their bath overflow, but far more morbid. Even Bazza, who didn’t really have the imagination for any long term tortures, had crushed the heads of dozens of people without thinking about it, leaving them to rot, wasted, wherever he happened to be at the time. Hell, even Lex was littering bodies round the place, first that motorcycle gang that dared to insult her bike, then all those cops who tried to pull her over for speeding. All that blood, and he’d not gotten more than a few drops! He was near starving here too!
He stalked the streets trying to find some dinner. It was getting bloody difficult to find anything living around after dark any more in this area. He really hated house breaking; there was always something to go wrong, and any household pets tended to freak when he was around. Besides, the police tended not to go too far out of their way when a vagrant or whore disappeared or turned up bloodless in the back of an alley. Looks like he was going to have to go half way across town just to feed. At least it would get him away from the rest of the guys when they got bored.
************************************************
Ian ghosted quietly from shadow to shadow, still some distance away from the vampire. The creature was incredible. Its skin was so pale it seemed to glow in the thin moonlight, gathering that silver touch into his alabaster skin. His eyes were red, a pure deep crimson that had broken out of the irises and swallowed the whole eye. The eyes did glow, no seeming about it, casting ruby shadows before them. Its hair danced in the still air. It was incredible. Amazingly beautiful and beyond inhuman.
He knew better than to close it yet, the undead had incredible hearing. He had to take this chance though; he may never get another one. He had been watching this gang for weeks and one thing he knew for certain; taking them all on was suicide. Taking down even one of them would be extremely difficult. It wasn't just the power level, though Father Michaels had been shocked that they were all so powerful. He said that meant someone even more powerful must have been holding them together. Vampires were like that, without an alpha they tended to fight until they had one. That was worrying above all, these guys could all pretty much qualify as alpha in most places.
But no, worse than the power was the professionalism. These guys were suspicious, wary and ready at all times. They had weapons and they knew how to use them, not just in a street-fighting experienced kind of way, but in a way that spoke of deadly training hardened by veteran use. He couldn't sneak up on them or any building they held. He could try and pose as a prospective lover, but having seen what they did to most of their partners he doubted he would be in any condition to bring them down.
Finally one had split off from the group without any support. He couldn’t waste this opportunity.
************************************************
Food was scarce tonight. Damn, how far had Andrea ranged anyway? Hah, the government should hire her as a new initiative to clean up the streets. He’d bet there were at least a few parties who’d go with it. He’d call it a night, he knew the others would. Well, no they wouldn’t, they’d be busting into a house right now, but then they had the power to do that and be pretty certain nothing on the other side of the door was going to be able to stop them. Knowing his luck, he’d bust down a door and run face first into a werewolf pack. The gang could risk that. Hell, Andrea and Bazza would go out of their way to get it, they loved slaughtering the shapeshifters, said it kept them in their place. Ethan imagined having a pack rip him apart would hardly help their efforts. Actually it’d probably really piss them off... that was almost reason enough to do it.
Of course the gang could afford to miss a night’s feeding. Wasn’t really an option for him. Either someone died tonight; there was nowhere near enough time to feed without killing someone, or a lot of someones died tomorrow. He really didn’t want to spend the best part of tomorrow night hunting.
****************************************************
The vampire was looking for something... he seemed to be hunting. Ian nearly gave himself away as the shock hit him, only iron self-control and decades of training held him to the utter stillness in the shadows. It helped that vampires were natural predators. A prey animal looked for the shadows in the dark that stalked them. The predator looked for his next meal, not for alert for something with violent dinner plans. The ultimate predator didn't have to worry about its position in the food chain. It was arrogant. Careless. And this one was not nearly so well trained as its fellows.
He sidled to a nearby alley, quietly emptying the large bag around his shoulder in strategic places in the darkness, close to hand but well hidden. He spared a brief second to check the ground, every loose pebble on the floor that could affect footing, the contours of the walls and how it would affect something hitting them. He changed nothing, just stored them away as he’d been taught long ago. Everything was a weapon. The ground beneath your feet, the air that surrounded you, the smallest detail most would not even see, if it could help you kill, it was a weapon. Everything could help you kill, if you knew how.
He was ready. As ready as anyone could be facing one of the undead predators. He coughed. Loud and deliberate. Before the vampire turned he’d already curved his spine and rolled his feet, making him seem taller, more lithe, drawing attention to long legs and tight backside. His smile was welcoming, salacious and just slightly naive, perfect for predators of all stripes.
******************************************************
Ethan turned, forcing himself to do it slowly, not to seem jumpy. Andrea and the perverted twosome were unlikely to be so gentile about announcing themselves.
It was a human. A rent boy by the look of him. And a bloody beautiful one at that. Blond hair just long enough to play with but not too long to get in the way. Green eyes that sparkled even in the darkness, and a perfect curve of really full lips. His whole body screamed “tasty but vulnerable” he was perfect.
Too perfect. Ethan hadn’t lived around the people had for as long as he had to be taken in easily. He was stood in a shaft of moonlight, he knew what he looked like, and he was making no real effort to disguise it. There were humans desperate enough for money to ignore his alien appearance, but they didn't usually look like that.
Besides, Ethan didn’t hear him ‘till he coughed. Most vamps wouldn’t be looking for him, but most vamps haven’t been living with Andrea and the Twins for the past decade. If Ethan didn’t hear him, then he was trying not to be heard. Alright he could have just been checking out the vampire before he took the risk of approaching him, but if he checked out the freaky supernaturally glowing undead monster and STILL decided to draw attention to himself, exactly whom would he avoid?
Then again, Ethan didn't think he would have spotted any of this if it weren't for the man's aura. Generally he marked this up as yet another great talent that he did better than the other vampires in the gang (mainly since the only other vampires in the gang who could read auras at all were Michael and Albert himself) but at the same time was utterly useless when it came to protecting himself against them rearranging his anatomy. Still, it came in handy sometimes. Like now. The gorgeous guy’s stance and smile screamed ‘tasty snack.’ The man’s aura darkly whispered ‘predator’. He was good. Hell, he was a brilliant actor, but he couldn’t control his aura, at least not well enough to confuse him.
He kept his distance, and stared at the supposed rent boy with an unblinking scarlet gaze.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“I’m not falling for it, Hunter. Cut the act.”
Ian didn't hesitate. He dropped his smile and luscious invitation instantly; face falling to the emotionless mask that was its natural state. “How did you see through me?”
“Should I tell you? I think teaching a Hunter how to perfect his skills is probably not good practice for a vampire.”
“Granted. But one of us isn’t leaving tonight. Your group is too dangerous, too evil to let live.”
Ethan laughed. He laughed so long that Ian could have probably killed him three times over if he didn’t suspect a trap. “Don’t judge me on my friends. I’m not saying I’m any better, frankly I don't care whether any of you blood bags live or die, you’ll all be dead in fifty years time anyway, might as well be useful before you go.”
Ian tightened his grip on the blade in his sleeve, eyes narrowing to a pure visage of death in the darkness.
Ethan pretended not to notice. “No, I'm not nearly as dangerous as them. And they hate me, or think of me as little more than a toy. Whatever I am, I am theirs, like it or not. Trust me, it’s not. But they protect what’s theirs, not because I mean anything to them, but because they can't afford to be challenged like that. You might as well ram that pretty blade in your heart right now - if Andrea catches you death is the best you can hope for.”
Ian didn't flinch. Barely even waited for the echoes to die before he was moving, blade in his other hand coming round in a deadly, narrow arc.
It didn't work. Ethan saw it coming, almost before Ian had moved. By the time the knife was in striking distance, the vampire had already moved in near eye blurring speed, one hand lashing out like a serpent. The two staggered back away from each other, well out of arm’s reach.
Ian moved his shoulder stiffly. He'd managed to move quickly enough to stop the vampire shattering his arm. But only barely. Ethan moved back warily, all liquid muscle and feline grace, making the human seem almost clumsy, and impressive feat considering that the Hunter moved like oiled silk. There was a long slash down his stomach, precious blood leaked down his shirt. He ignored it.
Ian felt the adrenaline flow, the pain fade and the world come into sharp focus. He knew he would probably die here. Humans couldn’t fight the monsters, not and win.
They circled, warily. Both trying to stop the direction the other was trying to go. Both trying to gain control through a subtle game of eye contact feints and body language. Knives danced through Ian’s fingers, holy water rattled from pocket to hand to pocket. Stakes peeked from their hiding places. Ethan’s eyes glowed, he moved in quick darting motions that challenged the human eye to follow. His hands flexed, strong fingers curling. Long fangs flared through snarling lips.
The air crackled with tension. Someone would die tonight.
The air split.
Laughter split the night. Wild and strong. It was the sound of the dancing wind during a storm. The sound of the rushing river through rapids. It was good and evil, chaotic and uncontrollable, powerful and imaginative and unimaginable. It defied description; it cried inspiration. It was the moon in her feral revel, the gods in their vicious playfulness and the land in its awesome majesty. It was older than time and younger than the newest born babe. As wise as the most venerable elder, as foolish as the most drunken adolescent. It was everything. It was nothing.
A red balloon floated gently from the empty sky. On unfelt winds it flowed between the two would be combatants.
And there, it burst.
Power flowed outwards, subtle and energetic. It flowed around the two predators. Inexorably the fury of conflict was overwhelmed by an older, hotter, stronger power. Lust burned in their hearts, need danced in their eyes.
They came together at a run, unable to resist each other, as the sea was unable to resist the pull of the moon. Their hands touched first, sliding over each other, cold skin against hot flesh as their bodies came together. Heat and cold mingled, and both burned on the raging fires within.
Their lips hit each other with such violence they bruised. Ian marvelled at the strength in the vampire's hands, felt his flesh bruise over and over as the undead ripped at his clothes, hands reaching for warm skin like a man dying of thirst for water. One snaked it’s way into his jeans, the heavy material ripping like paper before the desperate onslaught as that pale cold hand encircled his straining cock, rubbing with near frenzied intensity.
Ethan’s vision faded to red as the hunter’s hands moved with near surgical precision. Buttons were unfastened before he knew what was happening, before he even felt the hands touch him. They slid insidiously between the folds of cloth of even his tightest clothing, not stopping their advance until they found their goal. There they stroked with professional expertise that brought animal sounds from Ethan’s throat.
Their tongues probed into each other’s mouths, fighting to gain control, to gain the upper hand, like erotic arm wrestling. Their hands were buried at each other’s groins; wet slipping sounds competing with the sound of Ian's heavy breathing and Ethan’s animal growls.
It grew impossibly, rising unbelievably quickly inside them. They pressed their bodies still harder together; Ethan's pale skin and night black hair was cold against Ian’s tanned flesh and shining blond locks. They were both lost to a lunatic need that went beyond mere lust. Their hands moved ever faster, the other hand probing and searching, feeling through ragged dishevelled clothing to control yet more of each beautiful body.
In the same amazing instant they were both pushed over that shining edge of orgasm. It was electric, so powerful; they both fell backwards as if before hammer blows. They writhed uncontrollably on the floor, the light of the moon glistening in red and green eye alike.
They lay supine for a seeming age. They lay for so long that the sky began to lighten in the east and the moons hold on the city began to give ground to the encroaching sun. Groggily they pulled themselves to their feet.
They regarded each other in silence for several long minutes. Faces so different wore identical expressions of confusion, afterglow and fear. The sun crept closer to the horizon.
In silence the two stepped slowly away from each other. Warily retreating, both worked their way out of the alley, never letting the other out of their sight until, finally, a wall separated them.
Sometimes stranger things than vampires stalked the night. And sometimes it was a victory just to be able to leave before dawn.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-28 11:52 pm (UTC)I think I feel sorry for Ethan and Ian. They're probably a little confused.
Hee, and Bonnie is evil, isn't she? It's amusing.
I like the way you put the balloon in. Very clever.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-29 12:12 am (UTC)A little confused? Ummm.... yesssssss. just slightly.
Nah, I just dropped it in with wyld magic. I've just ooked round and realised I goofed and the balloon was not STRICTLY necessary, or even advisable. Oops! Anywayt a little lunatic power never hurt anyone.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-29 09:05 am (UTC)(so I cheated a bit and dug up a old chat, but don't tell Bonnie.)
So Anyways. if you wanna see mine it's: http://www.livejournal.com/users/veli_enkeli/1219.html Comments are welcome and encouraged.
*still snickers over th wierd looks and thoughts Ian and Ethan must've had as the sun was comming up. Still love the descrip of the Baloon's entrance. WOOOOT!!
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-29 01:49 pm (UTC){{{{note from the management: the unprecedented act of alleged admission of possible fallibility can in no way be used to suggest that the author is in anyway imperfect in any sense, nor does it alter the assumption that he is right, alwasy right, and may correct his statements at any time and still be right without in any way prejudicing the rightness of the previous statement}}}}
Me? Tell Bonnie? Why..... would I do such a thing? *digs out blackmail file*
Ian and Ethan are both majorly confused. Both are going to pretend it never happened and both are not happy with me. Then again they're resilient, Ethan's used to being people's toys and Ian's pretty much a self-inflicted prostitute anyway. And it was thge best outcome, since there was a decent chance that both would've died it I let them fight.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-06 10:12 pm (UTC)Buuuuut unfortunately, it is Bonnie. So I didn't say anything.
And I have no idea why I added you. You're going to harass the hell out of me, aren't you?
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-07 02:00 pm (UTC)HEEE! He's succumbed to journal. He is now within easy reach for regular molestations! *Monty Burns mode* excellent (Monty Burns always speaks in itallics. It is known).
And yes. Yes I am. I could promise not to. I could swear to refrain from harassment, molestation, groping etc, btu I prefer to be honest. So... *flying leap*
Besides, your brother sold you to me for legal advice.