Post by madascheese on May 13, 2007 15:44:58 GMT
So...it's been a while since my last chapter! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, to be honest, though I think it turned out alright in the end - I guess I'll let you guys be the judge of that! Hope you enjoy 
********************
Karl paced the cellar impatiently, surrounded by old volumes that were carelessly scattered on every surface available. He had plenty of opinions as to why Dillan should be allowed to live – all of which, he felt, could be argued convincingly – but the Elders always responded better to traditional lore, with which he had no luck whatsoever. The only thing he had learned is that it is frowned upon to kill your own kind – something so ancient that the entirety of the vampire race seemed to have forgotten about it. The only thing left to do was plead convincingly, to express his opinions without thinking of the repercussions; a feat in itself when face to face with Lord Vakaal. It was going to be a lot harder than he thought.
Before anything else though, he needed to find her. Murdoch had informed him that his period of detention was over, so getting out would be easy. He could sense that she was still close by – in all likelihood, she would be roaming Mansbridge town, trying to make sense of everything. It all seemed so familiar. Becoming tired of fruitlessly following his own footsteps back and forth, he began to climb the stairs leading from the cellar when a thought suddenly crossed his mind – what if she had no interest in the experiment? Surely, he thought, she would want to change, to add purpose to her eternal life; but there are always those who do not. He decided to take his chances as he pushed his doubts to the back of his consciousness. Thankful that Dr Murdoch had embarked on one of his nightly strolls and was not in his office, he proceeded to leave the building in search of his childe.
* * *
Dillan walked slowly along the cracked, uneven pavement, drifting in and out of the ethereal beams from the streetlamps in an almost spectral daze. No matter how hard she tried to focus, it seemed like her mind always returned instantly to the horrifying visage of her dead mother, the glassy, vacant stare that bored through to the back of her mind with scolding permanence. Her head burned with thoughts of the murders she had committed as stolen life pumped mercilessly through her veins; the plaguing hunger had returned despite her earlier feed, the pangs thundered in her stomach and shivered through her skin. Attempting to ignore these sensations, she shook her soft, luminescent crimson hair out of her face as she resumed her air of quiet but definite confidence, ignoring the passing stares from the mortals around her.
She walked more purposefully along the street amongst the rabble of humans, trying once more to focus on how she would survive the next couple of weeks when she stopped suddenly, becoming aware of a prickling on the back of her neck. She walked a little further and then positioned herself casually against the wall, away from the bright glare of the streetlight. Glancing casually behind her, she noticed that a darkly-dressed blonde woman had stopped behind her. A chill shivered through her spine – was she being followed?
Realising that she could not, at this point, know for certain if someone was tailing her particularly, she returned to the light and continued steadily down the street, She heard a heartbeat quicken behind her as, with another furtive glance, she assured herself that she was, in fact, being followed by the blonde she had suspected earlier. A wave of dread instantly filled her being; if the woman was following her then she obviously knew of Dillan's true nature and could therefore be very dangerous. What could she do? With preternatural speed, she raced along the pavement, unseen and unknown to the mortals around her; she quickly ducked into a darkened alley, hidden from the main road, and flattened herself against the cool brick wall. Beads of sweat trickled delicately down her creased forehead as she tried to organise her thoughts. She peered nervously around the corner to see the woman looking confusedly from left to right, though she continued to walk forward as if nothing had happened, now only a matter of yards away from where Dillan was hiding.
“Look, I've not lost her sir! She's probably ran straight ahead, you know how fast they can move when they want to,” the woman hissed into her cellphone. “I'll find her, trust me. I think she's turned right into – I think it's some sort of side street or something. Just trust me.” She snapped the phone shut impatiently and began to walk briskly down the road, her soft footsteps shuffling through the loose dirt on the rough stone beneath her. At that point, Dillan knew that there was only one thing she could do.
Without a moments hesitation, Dillan plucked her stalker from the street as she crossed the mouth of the alleyway and dragged her into the shadows with the speed and fluidity of a true predator. She forced her hand over the blonde's mouth and held her still until she voluntarily ceased to struggle.
“You're going to tell me why you're following me, “ Dillan muttered venomously into her ear. “If you shout or scream I'll snap your neck the moment that sound leaves your lips. Understand?”
The woman nodded feverishly as Dillan released her incredible grip. Her pursuer stumbled away from her grasp and fell to the ground, panting for breath vigorously. Dillan allowed her a few seconds to compose herself before beginning the interrogation.
“So,” she continued, surveying the quivering mortal before her. “Who the hell are you?”
“My – my name is Marianne Hackett,” she breathed. “I'm...umm...I'm a vampire enthusiast.”
“Really? That's fascinating,” Dillan replied sarcastically, flashing her fangs dangerously. She crouched down next to Hackett, who was sat leaning against the opposite wall. “You're lying,” she whispered. “I can smell it on you, you reek of deceit – and fear actually. You'd better tell me the real reason why you're following me, or I might just decide I'm a little hungry...”
“Ok, ok,” she said hurriedly, mindful of her delicate situation. “I'm...my name is Agent Hackett, I work for the BPDA as a vampire hunter.”
“What's the BPDA? Some kind of government organisation?” she retorted. “And how did you know I was a vampire?”
“It stands for 'Biomorphic Predatory Disease Agency' and yes, we are a government operation,” Hackett sighed. “We followed some leads about possible vampire related killings in Mansbridge, then I saw you a couple of nights ago,” her eyes slowly drifted up to Dillan's perplexed expression. “I've had enough experience in this area to know a vampire when I see one.”
“I'll bet that makes for an interesting resume,” she said quietly. She turned to face the street, pondering the new revelations that had come to light. No longer was she the hunter, she was hunted – by the government no less. She saw a flicker in the corner of her eye as Hackett rose to her feet and, quick as a flash, she turned around and grabbed her by the throat. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now.” she growled menacingly, the hunger howling in the very pit of her stomach.
“If you do, they'll swarm all over town and kill us all,” said a male voice emanating from the darker shadows further back in the alley.
“Jesus Christ!” she cried as Hackett uttered a rare whimper of fear. “I'm sick of being followed...whoever you are, show yourself, or I'll kill her right now!”
A tall, lean figure stepped out of the darkness and into the pale, milky moonlight, which seemed to flow lazily over the sharply defined features of his face. His brown eyes glittered with charisma as he stood perfectly still, holding himself calmly and assertively.
“You need to relax,” he said, his voice cutting serenely through the tense, acrid air. “My name is Karl, I'm the one who made you. Remember?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she grimaced, feeling the delicious, inviting warmth from Hackett's throat penetrate her skin. “What are you doing here?”
“That can wait, we don't have time for that right now” he replied. “If you come with me, I promise I'll explain everything – but we need to leave.”
She thought carefully about his offer; wasn't this what she had wanted, answers to her never-ending questions? She hadn't prepared herself for this, she seemed to feel predisposed to endure loneliness and some sombre soul-searching for the duration of the Summer – was she ready to be faced with her own demons, reflected in those around her? Slowly and carefully, her scarlet eyes fixed on her prey, she released her grip and with a swift blow to the head, she deftly rendered the ailing agent unconscious.
“Good call,” Karl laughed.
“I was always good under pressure,” she muttered in reply. She turned around to face her maker for the first time, looking him up and down. “Where do you wanna take me?” she sighed.
“The Academy. There's a few of us who live there, remember?” he replied evenly. “I mean, they're all on Summer vacation, so it's just me and Murdoch at the minute. It's umm...kinda quiet.”
“Why aren't you on vacation?” she asked, tilting her head inquisitively.
“After what I did to you I've been kind of...incarcerated would be the best word I guess,” he said heavily. “They're not big fans of us killing people, you know?”
“So what's the point of it anyway?” she said curiously. “You behave yourself, you get a gold star – you bite like a bad dog and it's no vacation?”
“Not exactly. We're trying to add meaning to our lives, become more humanised,” he explained. “The BPDA are onto us – if we continue to live by our instincts, we'll be exterminated. I've seen the tapes, it's pretty d**n scary. If we can become more human, even to the point of living peacefully amongst them, then we'll obviously be harder to track down.”
“Alright, whatever, I'll go,” she sighed. “Lead the way.”
They returned to the street with a brisk walk, each one slightly wary of the other. A deafening silence hung between them, a delicate, glistening spider's thread of intense discomfort. They both looked everywhere but at their companion, surveying the crumbling red-brick walls of the old fashioned buildings, temporarily mesmerised by the neon glare of artificial light, both wishing for the journey to be over. Dillan thought about the last week, about the possibility of a meaningful eternal life. The doctor, the girl from the Roadhouse, her poor mother, Jerry – at least she could count the victims on the fingers of one hand. Still, despite the ecstasy rush of killing, perhaps there could be more to her new life than just blood; eternity did seem like a rather long time.
“So, if you don't kill people, how can you feed?” she said quickly, shattering the fragile silence.
“We're given synthetic blood, it's some sort of plasma stuff – I'm not sure what's in it,” Karl replied, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him.
“Does it...taste the same?” she enquired, feeling a little shy for the first time.
“Kind of – we have to drink it cold, to keep it fresh,” he said, glancing at his companion. “It's not bad though, it's not like it tastes bad it just not quite the same.”
Dillan grimaced. A sudden thought popped into her head - “Is Dr Murdoch a vampire?” she asked quietly.
“No, no,” Karl laughed. “He really mustn't get out much for you day students to wonder about him! He's human, but he can handle himself pretty well. You'd be surprised,” he mused, thinking of the time Murdoch had effortlessly bound him in relentless Chinese knots.
The tension eased between them as they continued their journey through the town stuck in a time-warp, striding past quieter streets and watching the buildings gradually disappear, melting into leafy trees and dark rivers of roads. They walked for what seemed to be hours along the rural routes, wading through the deafening silence of the countryside until the imposing edifice of the Mansbridge Academy loomed over the moonlit horizon. Karl paused for a moment.
“Before we get there, there's something I have to tell you,” he said carefully, steadying himself for her reaction. She glared at him suspiciously. “I'm not entirely sure if you will be welcomed into the project yet – I'm prepared to fight your case though, and I'm pretty confident that they'll see it my way.”
“What?” she cried. “This is just...fantastic. So, I could be walking to my execution – unless, of course, the brave little jock can save me. I haven't got time for this, I'm outta here.”
Karl grabbed her swiftly by the arm as she tried to walk away. “Look, we'll do it this way,” he said calmly. “I'm pretty sure I can convince them to keep you around – but if they decide not to, run – fast. You'd need to lay low for a while, but you would be ok.”
“Do I have much of a choice?” she sighed.
“Not really, if the BPDA didn't catch you, the Elders would eventually,” he replied. “At least this way you're not a fugitive by default.”
“Whatever then. It's a good job I can run fast,” she said scornfully.
“You ready then?” he asked quietly.
She took a deep breath as her eyes gazed ruefully at the severe features of the building, from the charcoal roofs to the intricately chiselled alcoves surrounding the stained glass windows, stripped of their vivacious colour by the dark curtain of night. Her stomach was kneading with dread – the only thing missing from the human terror she was familiar with was the pounding heartbeat, the sensation of blood rushing through her tiny aural capillaries as adrenaline seeped through her body. Now there was just that awful dead sickness in the heart of her stomach, the intense fear of these 'Elders' Karl had talked about and a small glimmer of determination at the back of her mind. Either way she would live, she knew that for certain, but her path ahead seemed unclear. Clinging to the slight spark of hope and Karl's capabilities, she faced her maker.
“I'm ready,” she said steadily, looking back to the Academy. “Take me to them.”
**************
Thanks for reading
********************
Karl paced the cellar impatiently, surrounded by old volumes that were carelessly scattered on every surface available. He had plenty of opinions as to why Dillan should be allowed to live – all of which, he felt, could be argued convincingly – but the Elders always responded better to traditional lore, with which he had no luck whatsoever. The only thing he had learned is that it is frowned upon to kill your own kind – something so ancient that the entirety of the vampire race seemed to have forgotten about it. The only thing left to do was plead convincingly, to express his opinions without thinking of the repercussions; a feat in itself when face to face with Lord Vakaal. It was going to be a lot harder than he thought.
Before anything else though, he needed to find her. Murdoch had informed him that his period of detention was over, so getting out would be easy. He could sense that she was still close by – in all likelihood, she would be roaming Mansbridge town, trying to make sense of everything. It all seemed so familiar. Becoming tired of fruitlessly following his own footsteps back and forth, he began to climb the stairs leading from the cellar when a thought suddenly crossed his mind – what if she had no interest in the experiment? Surely, he thought, she would want to change, to add purpose to her eternal life; but there are always those who do not. He decided to take his chances as he pushed his doubts to the back of his consciousness. Thankful that Dr Murdoch had embarked on one of his nightly strolls and was not in his office, he proceeded to leave the building in search of his childe.
* * *
Dillan walked slowly along the cracked, uneven pavement, drifting in and out of the ethereal beams from the streetlamps in an almost spectral daze. No matter how hard she tried to focus, it seemed like her mind always returned instantly to the horrifying visage of her dead mother, the glassy, vacant stare that bored through to the back of her mind with scolding permanence. Her head burned with thoughts of the murders she had committed as stolen life pumped mercilessly through her veins; the plaguing hunger had returned despite her earlier feed, the pangs thundered in her stomach and shivered through her skin. Attempting to ignore these sensations, she shook her soft, luminescent crimson hair out of her face as she resumed her air of quiet but definite confidence, ignoring the passing stares from the mortals around her.
She walked more purposefully along the street amongst the rabble of humans, trying once more to focus on how she would survive the next couple of weeks when she stopped suddenly, becoming aware of a prickling on the back of her neck. She walked a little further and then positioned herself casually against the wall, away from the bright glare of the streetlight. Glancing casually behind her, she noticed that a darkly-dressed blonde woman had stopped behind her. A chill shivered through her spine – was she being followed?
Realising that she could not, at this point, know for certain if someone was tailing her particularly, she returned to the light and continued steadily down the street, She heard a heartbeat quicken behind her as, with another furtive glance, she assured herself that she was, in fact, being followed by the blonde she had suspected earlier. A wave of dread instantly filled her being; if the woman was following her then she obviously knew of Dillan's true nature and could therefore be very dangerous. What could she do? With preternatural speed, she raced along the pavement, unseen and unknown to the mortals around her; she quickly ducked into a darkened alley, hidden from the main road, and flattened herself against the cool brick wall. Beads of sweat trickled delicately down her creased forehead as she tried to organise her thoughts. She peered nervously around the corner to see the woman looking confusedly from left to right, though she continued to walk forward as if nothing had happened, now only a matter of yards away from where Dillan was hiding.
“Look, I've not lost her sir! She's probably ran straight ahead, you know how fast they can move when they want to,” the woman hissed into her cellphone. “I'll find her, trust me. I think she's turned right into – I think it's some sort of side street or something. Just trust me.” She snapped the phone shut impatiently and began to walk briskly down the road, her soft footsteps shuffling through the loose dirt on the rough stone beneath her. At that point, Dillan knew that there was only one thing she could do.
Without a moments hesitation, Dillan plucked her stalker from the street as she crossed the mouth of the alleyway and dragged her into the shadows with the speed and fluidity of a true predator. She forced her hand over the blonde's mouth and held her still until she voluntarily ceased to struggle.
“You're going to tell me why you're following me, “ Dillan muttered venomously into her ear. “If you shout or scream I'll snap your neck the moment that sound leaves your lips. Understand?”
The woman nodded feverishly as Dillan released her incredible grip. Her pursuer stumbled away from her grasp and fell to the ground, panting for breath vigorously. Dillan allowed her a few seconds to compose herself before beginning the interrogation.
“So,” she continued, surveying the quivering mortal before her. “Who the hell are you?”
“My – my name is Marianne Hackett,” she breathed. “I'm...umm...I'm a vampire enthusiast.”
“Really? That's fascinating,” Dillan replied sarcastically, flashing her fangs dangerously. She crouched down next to Hackett, who was sat leaning against the opposite wall. “You're lying,” she whispered. “I can smell it on you, you reek of deceit – and fear actually. You'd better tell me the real reason why you're following me, or I might just decide I'm a little hungry...”
“Ok, ok,” she said hurriedly, mindful of her delicate situation. “I'm...my name is Agent Hackett, I work for the BPDA as a vampire hunter.”
“What's the BPDA? Some kind of government organisation?” she retorted. “And how did you know I was a vampire?”
“It stands for 'Biomorphic Predatory Disease Agency' and yes, we are a government operation,” Hackett sighed. “We followed some leads about possible vampire related killings in Mansbridge, then I saw you a couple of nights ago,” her eyes slowly drifted up to Dillan's perplexed expression. “I've had enough experience in this area to know a vampire when I see one.”
“I'll bet that makes for an interesting resume,” she said quietly. She turned to face the street, pondering the new revelations that had come to light. No longer was she the hunter, she was hunted – by the government no less. She saw a flicker in the corner of her eye as Hackett rose to her feet and, quick as a flash, she turned around and grabbed her by the throat. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now.” she growled menacingly, the hunger howling in the very pit of her stomach.
“If you do, they'll swarm all over town and kill us all,” said a male voice emanating from the darker shadows further back in the alley.
“Jesus Christ!” she cried as Hackett uttered a rare whimper of fear. “I'm sick of being followed...whoever you are, show yourself, or I'll kill her right now!”
A tall, lean figure stepped out of the darkness and into the pale, milky moonlight, which seemed to flow lazily over the sharply defined features of his face. His brown eyes glittered with charisma as he stood perfectly still, holding himself calmly and assertively.
“You need to relax,” he said, his voice cutting serenely through the tense, acrid air. “My name is Karl, I'm the one who made you. Remember?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she grimaced, feeling the delicious, inviting warmth from Hackett's throat penetrate her skin. “What are you doing here?”
“That can wait, we don't have time for that right now” he replied. “If you come with me, I promise I'll explain everything – but we need to leave.”
She thought carefully about his offer; wasn't this what she had wanted, answers to her never-ending questions? She hadn't prepared herself for this, she seemed to feel predisposed to endure loneliness and some sombre soul-searching for the duration of the Summer – was she ready to be faced with her own demons, reflected in those around her? Slowly and carefully, her scarlet eyes fixed on her prey, she released her grip and with a swift blow to the head, she deftly rendered the ailing agent unconscious.
“Good call,” Karl laughed.
“I was always good under pressure,” she muttered in reply. She turned around to face her maker for the first time, looking him up and down. “Where do you wanna take me?” she sighed.
“The Academy. There's a few of us who live there, remember?” he replied evenly. “I mean, they're all on Summer vacation, so it's just me and Murdoch at the minute. It's umm...kinda quiet.”
“Why aren't you on vacation?” she asked, tilting her head inquisitively.
“After what I did to you I've been kind of...incarcerated would be the best word I guess,” he said heavily. “They're not big fans of us killing people, you know?”
“So what's the point of it anyway?” she said curiously. “You behave yourself, you get a gold star – you bite like a bad dog and it's no vacation?”
“Not exactly. We're trying to add meaning to our lives, become more humanised,” he explained. “The BPDA are onto us – if we continue to live by our instincts, we'll be exterminated. I've seen the tapes, it's pretty d**n scary. If we can become more human, even to the point of living peacefully amongst them, then we'll obviously be harder to track down.”
“Alright, whatever, I'll go,” she sighed. “Lead the way.”
They returned to the street with a brisk walk, each one slightly wary of the other. A deafening silence hung between them, a delicate, glistening spider's thread of intense discomfort. They both looked everywhere but at their companion, surveying the crumbling red-brick walls of the old fashioned buildings, temporarily mesmerised by the neon glare of artificial light, both wishing for the journey to be over. Dillan thought about the last week, about the possibility of a meaningful eternal life. The doctor, the girl from the Roadhouse, her poor mother, Jerry – at least she could count the victims on the fingers of one hand. Still, despite the ecstasy rush of killing, perhaps there could be more to her new life than just blood; eternity did seem like a rather long time.
“So, if you don't kill people, how can you feed?” she said quickly, shattering the fragile silence.
“We're given synthetic blood, it's some sort of plasma stuff – I'm not sure what's in it,” Karl replied, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him.
“Does it...taste the same?” she enquired, feeling a little shy for the first time.
“Kind of – we have to drink it cold, to keep it fresh,” he said, glancing at his companion. “It's not bad though, it's not like it tastes bad it just not quite the same.”
Dillan grimaced. A sudden thought popped into her head - “Is Dr Murdoch a vampire?” she asked quietly.
“No, no,” Karl laughed. “He really mustn't get out much for you day students to wonder about him! He's human, but he can handle himself pretty well. You'd be surprised,” he mused, thinking of the time Murdoch had effortlessly bound him in relentless Chinese knots.
The tension eased between them as they continued their journey through the town stuck in a time-warp, striding past quieter streets and watching the buildings gradually disappear, melting into leafy trees and dark rivers of roads. They walked for what seemed to be hours along the rural routes, wading through the deafening silence of the countryside until the imposing edifice of the Mansbridge Academy loomed over the moonlit horizon. Karl paused for a moment.
“Before we get there, there's something I have to tell you,” he said carefully, steadying himself for her reaction. She glared at him suspiciously. “I'm not entirely sure if you will be welcomed into the project yet – I'm prepared to fight your case though, and I'm pretty confident that they'll see it my way.”
“What?” she cried. “This is just...fantastic. So, I could be walking to my execution – unless, of course, the brave little jock can save me. I haven't got time for this, I'm outta here.”
Karl grabbed her swiftly by the arm as she tried to walk away. “Look, we'll do it this way,” he said calmly. “I'm pretty sure I can convince them to keep you around – but if they decide not to, run – fast. You'd need to lay low for a while, but you would be ok.”
“Do I have much of a choice?” she sighed.
“Not really, if the BPDA didn't catch you, the Elders would eventually,” he replied. “At least this way you're not a fugitive by default.”
“Whatever then. It's a good job I can run fast,” she said scornfully.
“You ready then?” he asked quietly.
She took a deep breath as her eyes gazed ruefully at the severe features of the building, from the charcoal roofs to the intricately chiselled alcoves surrounding the stained glass windows, stripped of their vivacious colour by the dark curtain of night. Her stomach was kneading with dread – the only thing missing from the human terror she was familiar with was the pounding heartbeat, the sensation of blood rushing through her tiny aural capillaries as adrenaline seeped through her body. Now there was just that awful dead sickness in the heart of her stomach, the intense fear of these 'Elders' Karl had talked about and a small glimmer of determination at the back of her mind. Either way she would live, she knew that for certain, but her path ahead seemed unclear. Clinging to the slight spark of hope and Karl's capabilities, she faced her maker.
“I'm ready,” she said steadily, looking back to the Academy. “Take me to them.”
**************
Thanks for reading
You really do have a gift with words! *pets your lovely lil hand-demon affectionately*
