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Post by nightreflection on Oct 18, 2011 13:28:10 GMT -5
Part LX
“Well, not bad for a minion I suppose. You are dismissed.” “Not quite your majesty.” He was his cocky self again. “And why would that be?” “You do not treat me with the same respect as sire.” Samrick laughed heartily, “You think you deserve the same respect as him?” Oren knew any elite would deserve at least a little more than he'd got, but this was different. “I'm not the chosen one, but I'm still no pushover, and I demand more respect.” “Oh ho, so you think you're special, come here and let me tell you something.” Samrick shrunk down and whispered in his ear. “I know you aren't very powerful, I can sense it.” Oren couldn't have planned it better if he'd tried. He leaned forward and whispered “That doesn't work on me.” That was the problem with primal magic. It was an issue of knowledge, power had no role in it. Samrick gave him an amused look as Oren began to trace a few runes in the floor. It had no bearing on what he was about to do, but he didn't want to expose his primal magic. After a few significantly complex and pointless mutterings and gestures he spoke a glyph. He dropped a wax-sealed envelope on the floor and walked out.
A servant loyally brought the envelope to him. It was a request for a cloak. Typical vampire, quite expensive too. He was eying it amusingly when a demon burst into the room. “Majesty, there's a huge block of rock in the ballroom.” So that's what he was up to he thought. A few minutes later one of his alchemists burst into the room. “This had better be important” said the king. “The ballroom your majesty.” “Yes, I know, there's a pebble in it.” “No your majesty, it's a huge chunk of enchanter's obsidian!” Enchanter's obsidian? That got his attention. It was very hard to come by, even a pursefull was very helpful for all kinds of enchanted goods. He got up with a grunt and strode through his hallways to the ballroom. It was almost filled with a huge chunk of glassy black rock. He looked at his broken tiles, but they weren't. It was like the obsidian had fused with them.
*** smug Ref 89-
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Post by nightreflection on Oct 21, 2011 14:07:06 GMT -5
Part LXIHe was becoming less and less involved in the real world. Zeke and the managers who'd been terrorised into submission didn't seem to mind. There wasn't much to learn with primal magic. It was all the same shapes, just in different combinations. He had picked up one more thing from the meditative void. If he closed his eyes, he could see the world around him. If he concentrated he could shut out the bones of creation beneath him and could look at the world around him. As time passed he didn't have to go as deep as he used to and soon he didn't even have to meditate. It was strange seeing in three dimensions. He could see behind him, inside things. It was essential to primal magic. He had to know what he was altering, but it was a huge benefit to normal life too. ----- A few weeks later he got and excited Charby dragging him to the cabin. Benito had dropped off a little something for him. Oren smiled with relief. He arrived to a crowd of demons wooing over a cloak. It was as thick as a hand breath, woven from enchanted black silk. It would stretch to his feet and cover him completely if needed. The clasp was a deep red pyrope garnet, oval and polished round and set in black obsidian with a suggestion of violet. It was enchanted to find its way back to its owner and repair itself, but most of all, he could press the clasp and change his clothes to whatever he desired, including hide the cloak if needed. It was an enchantment that had kept eluding him. “He gives great gifts doesn't he?” said Charby. “Yes he does” Oren smiled calmly. He had the respect he wanted. The cloak had come with a note attached: “Dear Oren, His majesty, king Samrick wishes to inform you that a lone human has returned to investigate the disappearance of the prospectors. He would be grateful if you could return and advise him in this matter. PS, How do you like the cloak, toothy?” The tone was a lot nicer than before. He smiled, the cloak line had been scrawled by his majesty himself. “Woohoo, I'm going to see Sammy!” He could drop by anytime, you'd think Charby wouldn't get so excited anymore. Oh well, they would set off in the morning. Sire wasn't giving him a choice, but he would have gone anyway. It was important that whoever they sent made it back, and made it back with the right conclusion. ----- “Ah, may favourite little vampire.” “Sammy!” Charby threw his arms wide expressively. “And how have we been keeping?” “We are just one hundred percent awesome!” “Good to hear. Do you like the cloak?” “It's everything I wanted your majesty.” “Sorry to have bothered you at such short notice. Your old gang is waiting for you.” “Thanks Samrick, although there won't be enough to share this time. I'll leave you all to my sire.” He smiled and left with a wave of his hand. *** It begins... Ref 90-
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Post by nightreflection on Oct 25, 2011 15:46:52 GMT -5
Part XLIIIt didn't take long to find the investigator. He was good at uncovering clues, but not at covering them. He followed him all day using various forms. It was an hour later that he surprised Oren. “You can show yourself now.” He waited a few seconds. “The rustling is always behind me, I know you're following me.” Very smart thought Oren. The inspector stomped over to Oren and pulled back the bushes. A tiny mouse startled away. Maybe it was just his nerves. This continued for another hour. The guest of the forest returned to his camp. There was a small transmitter and he sent his findings. Oren waited until he was asleep. He used magic to make sure and then snuck in. It was incredible. He'd only been here two days and already he'd put the deaths down to forest monsters, highly intelligent, hybrid species/species never seen before. It had felt a bit like a horror flick to him, but he had pushed on as you do when there is no other option. He had assumed whatever was following him was an intelligent animal, or a native who did not speak english. It was more likely the animal stalking him and waiting to see if he posed a threat. It is likely that is why the explorers were killed as he was sure he'd be dead by now if it was just about food. He was also sure he was dealing with pack animals based on the way they picked off stragglers and synchronised the slaughter he'd heard on the recording. The pack was mixed types, possibly a symbiotic relationship holding them together as evidenced by the means of death. He was disturbed by the deliberate use of water to erase their tracks to hide this fact. They demonstrated intelligence and an understanding of human technology. Whatever they were, they weren't likely a known species and their intelligence was near or equivalent to apes. Oren carefully replaced the notes. Monsters slaughtering Kellwood visitors, now there was nothing new. He could work with that, but this man. He'd found evidence in such a cleanly swept scene. His prowess was incredible. He flicked the man's wallet open. A few small notes betrayed the reason for his being here. He was almost broke. No traveller went into the complete unknown without at least a little emergency money. If he crawled into a village with this he would be at the mercy of mercy. So, Lance Knight huh? He thought. Well Mr Knight, I like your monster idea, let's work with that shall we? He carefully replaced the wallet and vanished in a puff of smoke. Mr Knight's nose twiched but his deep slumber did not break. ----- “...and then he said, haw haw, he's got an earful now” Charby was crying with laughter and Samrick let out a humorous roar. “Ooh, the man of mystery returns.” “Greetings your majesty.” he said with a bow and a swish of the cape. '“ take it our little problem is extinguished?” “Not quite. I want to feed him rather than feed on him. Just the right nonsense or we will get a lot more interest. Might I have a moment in private with sire?” “Come now, there's no need for secrets here.” glowed Samrick. “I know” said Oren, “but you should ask Charby about my surprises.” Charby grinned widely as Oren lead him off. Oren liked Samrick. He could be a bit stuck up, but most demon kings would have been a lot rougher with a sidekick. Even so, he didn't trust Samrick not to peek so he cast as small mindlink spell. “You've got to see this one sire. He figured out exactly what happened and it took him only two days.” “You should'a just been more careful.” “These were Samrick's goons, they know how to clean up. Sire, I know you're not a fan of making elites, but we could really use him to figure out what Rodericke and the Elites are up to. Think of it. We wouldn't need half of the intel we do now.” “Okay, I'll take a look, but I am not some sort of monster production line. Got that?” “Yes sir.” *** Oh Amelius is definately gonna be mad at me from this point on. I'm really getting out of context! Ref 91-
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Post by nightreflection on Oct 29, 2011 3:52:33 GMT -5
Part XLIII“Ah, you're back.” Oren had barely nudged the branch of the bush. Another rustled on the other side of the clearing. “And you brought a friend. Listen, how long are we going to play this game?” He sighed and went back to examining some broken grass. All that was left of a stray worker. He took out an earbud and raised it a few minutes later. There was dry blood on it. How he'd managed to even see it in the grass was beyond them, it had been over a week. Most had been washed away or rotted. He looked up at Charby. “So it's machines is it? Bats roost in caves, and not during the day.” He reached for Charby but grabbed air. His jump ended in a bush. He slowly turned his head and saw a smiling little boy with big red eyes and long teeth. Lance was a little taken aback but quickly regained his composure. “So you've seen enough have you?” “Ohhh, I've seen enough all right.” He was grinning happily. “Oren, cover us.” “Better idea sir, meet at the castle?” “This won't work you know, they will just send more.” Oren grinned, “you have no idea.” he sliced a few stone walls with magic. He held him by the collar as the blocks of stone descended around them. He finished it off with a roof and, unbeknown to Lance, a foundation. “You won't be going anywhere for some time Mr Knight, do take some nourishment.” Oren produced some emergency rations from his cloak. “You know my name? So it was you in my tent. What do you want?” “Oh, you're probably better off not knowing. Now please excuse me.” Oren pulled a runed stone puzzle out of his robe and began to assemble it. It looked like three rings crossing each other like an atom when he was done and as the last piece clicked into place it began to glow from the inside. “What intrigues me is, how did you get inside without disturbing any of the outside?” Oren smiled. Mr Knight stared in surprise as he shifted into a rat and walked into the glow. “Get a hold of yourself Lance, you're seeing things.” Whatever these creatures want, it can't be good. I must get out of here. Think. They'd left him with his tools. They obviously thought it no threat, but perhaps he could be creative. He tried the emergency beacon, it would get through the rock, but would they get here in time. He looked at the glowing statuette on the floor. He tried to pull it apart to stop the creature coming back but it zapped him. He threw a pebble. It passed through the portal and bounced off the floor. He tried hacking away at the wall, but there were no proper flaws to exploit. He stopped in mid swing. “Hohoo, do you hear that. It's still alive, get moving.” The muffled sounds grew louder. There was scraping. He could tell it wasn't human, something very strong was hacking at the wall. There was a loud crack as something else hit the wall on the other side. The wall handn't cracked, something they were using was taking a licking. He was terrified. Eventually they would get through, although these walls were not normal, they should at least show some sign of weakness by now. There was a bright glow behind him. He turned around to see the tall one had returned. Oren put a finger to his lips and drew him towards the portal. Lance was miserable. He didn't know which fate would be worse, but neither was a pleasant prospect. “Fancy that, Rodericke's had his eye on you too. No doubt our interest in you piqued his. Wretched parasite.” “I'm not sure that would have been a bad option.” “Oh no, what ever he had planned would have been much more painful.” “So, what are you going to do to me?” Oren stepped back through the portal. As the light blindness faded fear began to settle. For the first time in his life he was truly terrified. He could normally tell what was going to happen. What would these monsters inflict on him? They wanted to use his mind. Would they chain him to a pole and make him work for them? He couldn't imagine the coldness of such a master. The dim glow of the portals showed a dustless room. There had been a wall, there was dust on the side of the room hidden in the darkness, but he could not see or feel any join. Behind him the light dimmed. The big portal was silent, but next to it there remained a tiny portal. A piece of the large portal clinked onto the floor. While the rest of the pieces followed he examined the room. As his eyes adjusted he realised there was no way out. There were some basic provisions, but no obvious entrance or exit. Nobody had used this room in years. The dust was undisturbed. The clinking stopped and soon Oren obscured the portal's light. He carried the pieces into the store room. He concentrated stuck out his hands and spoke something unintelligible. The light of the portal went out. Lance could feel a wall. Oren spoke a few more times. There was a shuffling of clothes and a pale blue light flooded the room. The orb it came from floated. Was this a delusion? Had he been poisoned by a hallucinogenic? Another magic word and a gap appeared in the wall. They went through and he closed it behind them. The air was colder, but not as stale. They were in a passage. Oren lead him down past corridors of faceless doors. They entered a huge room. He could barely make out flashes of red at the end of the room as their steps echoed on the stone floor. He hadn't expected hallucinations to be this vivid. It wasn't consistent with what he read about hallucinating. The surroundings did not react to his emotions, this wasn't the result of his fear. They entered a small room at the end. “Please put this on.” Oren dumped a garment on the floor left him to himself for a few minutes. The room was blank. There was a small table and two chairs, but they seemed out of place. Everything was so featureless in this building, wherever it was. He was tapping the walls when Oren entered. “Here, have something to eat. You would be advised to change unless you want me to strip you naked.” Lance reluctantly changed when Oren left the room. It was a robe. Strange how he didn't feel cold. This room was heated somehow, but he couldn't tell how. He tested the food. It was certainly designed to keep him going. It had the sharp, chalky taste of body-builder whey solids. He had a spoonful and since he was side-effect free after five minutes, decided to finish it off. He sat contemplating the situation. This was probably a waiting room. He'd be summoned whenever the monsters, how many were there? were ready. He'd been kept alive, so he had to have some use to them. Perhaps they wanted to know how much he'd sent back. There was magic involved. He'd never believed in magic but it was clearly true. He expected to wake up any second but this had gone on too long. He had to get out of the castle, but for now he would just wait for an opportunity. He stared at the black stone and wondered if he would get out of this alive. If he would get out at all. *** I use Oren to get away with things that are out of character for Charby. Does that make me a bad person? I hope so. Ref 92-
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 1, 2011 14:18:03 GMT -5
Part XLIV
The door creaked open and a grinning blood-eyed Charby walked in. “Ohhh, this is gonna be sweet.” Oren locked the door behind him and began carefully tracing on the floor. This wasn't his old chalk and blood rune, he was cutting the shapes into the floor with magic. He took out a strange object and winced as he clasped it over his wrist. Slowly he filled the grooves with blood. Occasionally mopping up an extra spill here or there. Charby sat cross-legged on the floor and watched grinning. Occasionally looking at the pale-faced Mr Knight. He was surprised not to see a pentagram, but was obviously worried. All he had to go on was myth and the human usually ended up being sacrificed in those. His old clothes were still on the floor. He grabbed a knife and lunged at Charby. Charby just grinned and pulled the knife out. “Nice try, but I'm not your regular.” Strange how he didn't seem offended. Oren had finished. He looked weak and drained. “Come” said Charby cheerily and lead Lance to the centre of the blood-rune. Oren cast a spell and chains restrained him. He panicked. This was it. “Please, make it quick.” he asked pitifully. Oren chanted a few bars and the blood rune lit up and then went black. It went darker than black absorbing all the light. Unfortunately, quickly was not on the menu. The little tyrant slowly cut him up, oblivious to his pain. It seemed to go on forever, it was like a nightmare. He shrieked, begged and pleaded. It went on and on and never seemed to stop. Slowly death approached. The light faded and as his blood dropped to critical levels the devil sunk its teeth into his heart. He had no idea how long it had been, but it felt like weeks. Everything went black.
***Welcome on board Mr Knight. Charby would probably be remorseful that he'd been talked into it rather than excited over a new minion, but I did say Amy would kill me... Ref 93-
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 5, 2011 3:43:59 GMT -5
Part XLVHe woke to four pairs of red eyes greeting him. There was blood all over the floor. His. They threw a robe at him. His last one had been shredded. He held it against him. “Am I not dead?” despair gripped him. How long could he endure this before his mind gave way? “HeeHeeHawww Yeah. You're dead alright, heehee.” “I.. Don't understand.” It was rare for him. Something slid over the floor towards him. He grasped it. It was a hand mirror. He held it up and flinched. Amber eyes stared back at him. The creature in the mirror gasped and revealed long teeth. Indigo hair crowned the head. He began to cry. “What.. what have you done to me?” “We've turned you into a vampire.” said Oren. “Why are you sad? You can be anything you want now.” Lance broke down in tears. “Noooooo.” Charby looked puzzled. “He probably doesn't realise yet sire. Let's take him out a little.” Oren lifted Lance's head. “We are going to show you a few tricks Mr Knight. Unless you want to have a very painful unlife, I suggest you not run.” “Who are you?” “How rude of me. I am Oren, and this is your sire, Charby.” A glazed look covered Lance's eyes as he looked at his sire. “He.. He's wonderful” It was the only ray of hope in this dark, vold place. “That's sire attachment.” said Charby, “Don't worry, I'm not a bad sire.” He said. Oren handed him a clean set of clothes and they left him to change. A look of relief crossed Lance's face as he left the room. The future was uncertain, but that was one room he'd be having nightmares about. They moved through the huge room. He saw the red flickers from earlier were from a huge pipe organ. It was tinted red. Something was not quite right. Light that reached that far would blind him this close. The eyes certainly would come in handy. They entered a huge kitchen and Oren set out an extravagant roast chicken or two, or three. He was glad he didn't have to completely give up his humanity. They talked casually over the meal. He was going to have to help them. It seemed the demon kingdom wasn't very united. He would be free to continue investigating whatever pleased him, but he would set up home in Kellwood and return regularly to try and make sense of demon politics. It didn't seem too bad, but there was always a catch. The thought shook him. Half way through the meal he noticed he kept getting pieces of their thoughts. What twisted minds they were. One trapped by bloodlust and the other by lust for power. Was this to be his fate too? After the meal he listened carefully to Charby as he explained how to shapeshift. “Why so glum?” said Charby “These abilities will only weaken me, or did you not notice, I do not carry a gun.” “Huh?” “What he means sire, is that the more Lance relies on his abilities, the less he relies on his intellect.” “That would be correct.” “Well then, Mr Knight, you had better learn to restrain them, because when you are here you are going to need everything you've got. Don't think just because you are some hotshot vampire that you are untouchable.” Charby was over the new minion excitement for the moment. “So it is vampires. I'm sorry, but I can not drink blood.” “Oh, I think that will change.” grinned Charby. “You don't know me.” “And you don't know us.” When he had mastered the basics he was lead to a portal and they emerged in a sealed room. “Come on.” said Charby excitedly. He vanished in a puff of smoke. There was a draught from in front of him. Hid didn't know how, but he reached down and the ability came. He was in a tidy bedroom. There were signs that it was designed for the rough sort, but was frequented by children. Probably for sire to use, although there were definite signs of a non-human. They stepped out into a garden overgrown with briers. Shielded from view they transformed into bats and flew off into the night. They landed on one of the private stretches of lakeside. A figure was running towards them with graceful strides. Lance's hunger had begun to take hold. He hadn't realised why yet, but he was shaking and was starting to feel a little pain. Being a gentleman he hadn't mentioned it. “Greetings Mr Tanner.” Oren said as the athletic figure slowed to a stop. “I don't believe you have permission to be here.” Incredible, he wasn't even out of breath. “Who said we were here for the beach.” He grinned. Mr Tanner reached for a gadget on his hip and two guards came running. “You freaks don't scare me.” There were rumours. Obviously Mr Tanner believed them, at lest now anyway. “See? What did I tell you Charby? Plenty for everyone.” Lance's eyes grew wide with the realisation. “No, no...” He tried to resist but he was so desperate for blood. The two guards were approaching rapidly. He was crying now. “I am an investigator, I find the criminals. I do not kill. It's not civilised.” He blurted. He was on his hands and knees trembling visibly. “Don't think twice, he's a murderer, and he will kill countless more if you don't stop him.” “It's not.. not..” In a blur of motion he was at Mr Tanner's neck. He wept loudly as he drank. The bliss did not comfort his trespass. He pulled out half way when he regained control. “You had better finish him or it will be less time until your next feed.” There was nothing for it. He dug his teeth in, humiliated and rejected. How long would it be before he snapped? How long could he last knowing he was a killer? It was only a matter of time. Somewhere in eternity he would become a soulless killer. He would destroy everything he'd fought so hard to protect. He hadn't wanted much from life, just to help those in need such as he could, and now he had an eternity to undo everything. He finished and collapsed in a pathetic heap on the ground, holding himself tightly and weeping softly. Charby looked at Oren puzzled. They had hypnotised their prey while they watched the new blood. It was strange how the taste of blood turned even the strongest heart, but this one was beyond it. “Drink up sire. It was my call. I will deal with this.” So this is why Charby did not turn people. Memories washed over him. How the elites had forced him to take an innocent life. It was humiliating, a cruel way to dominate someone. He was not like that. He did not understand Lance, but he would not let him live his whole afterlife in humiliation. Oren sank his fangs firmly into flesh and drained the life of the goon. They did not eat their meal, instead Oren settled for incineration. It was messy, but they couldn't trace it to him anyway, and he had more important matters to deal with. Lance was still sobbing. “Come, we must leave before we are discovered. You are still meant to be lost in the woods.” Reluctantly Lance stood up and they flew back to the house. He barely managed to keep aloft. There he sat. Face in hands on the kitchen table. Too mournful to even walk. “You know sire, while I'd still kill him in a heartbeat I'm starting to see your sire's point of view. Here we give a man the power to right all the wrongs in his world and he breaks down over a change of job description.” Oren waited for the sobbing to recede a little. “Now stop being such a wuss. You can use a blood bank if you really need to.” “The blood that I take will result in loss of life, possibly even worse.” “Oh, I'm sure if you brainwash enough people into donating blood you can justify it.” He looked up from his tears hopefully, “I can do that? I suppose that is manageable.” his voice was subdued. “Good, now go and get cleaned up, I need to get you back in the forest. It's already been two days and your ‘rescue team’ will arrive in a day. I want you to get a message out before then.” Work. Work was good. It took his focus off the pain. “Won't I burn in the sun?” his voice sounded hopeful. Oren's voice was sad “I'm sorry. Most of our kind are accepting of their new form. I am hardly ever wrong. But even if it had crossed my mind, I wouldn't have thought you resistant. I don't know what I can do to ease your pain, but I will do whatever I can. What I will say is this. Please do not try to end yourself. Your are an elite now. Such acts are more likely to result in pain and suffering than death. Make no mistake, you were brought here for your mind, and we will use it, but that doesn't mean we don't care now that you are one of us.” “And if I wasn't one of you?” “Each to his own I'm afraid. We're no charity. Each race and community has it's own rules and oddities, scorning outsiders. Although we are one of the few more willing to embrace new members and seeing non-members with realistic indifference rather than subjective pride.” *** Sorry for it being so looooong. I wasn't sure where to split it. So I didn't. Ref 95-
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 8, 2011 14:10:54 GMT -5
Part XLVIOren had shown him how to look human. It was surprising how much of his humanity he'd been able to hold on to. He had asked about Rodericke and understood that that was part of the politics, and that Rodericke would like to get his hands on him even more now that he was an elite. He was wearing his old clothes again. He touched down and radioed in. He told a shocking tale of narrowly outwitting a monster and concluded that that is most likely what happened to the exploration team. They were pack animals and it is likely that they were not in the area when the first team arrived. He would have to visit the villages around the forest for more information. He hated himself for lying. Oren had offered to supply any evidence he may need, but he had already lied so much. He hated himself. How could he claim to be an agent of truth when his very visage was a lie? The helicopter arrived a few hours later. He gingerly climbed aboard, clearly shaken. At least that part he didn't have to act. He spent the next few weeks visiting settlements around the forest and gathering monster stories. And there were plenty. Throughout them all there was one terrifyingly common one: A huge wolf-like beast as tall as a tree that devoured whole villages. Descriptions of shape, size and colour varied, but it stood out from the others more for the sheer terror it evoked in its tellers as opposed to the frequency of rumoured occurrences. He would ask Oren. It had been a few days and he felt his hunger return. He needed to get to a proper city soon or he would take another life. ----- It was a strange request. He was to meet Oren in the woods. They were eerily quiet as his wolf form sprinted through the foliage. He arrived at the giant tree and his heart stopped. Oren had brought a guest with him. The convict was unconscious. “Please, no.” he said pleadingly. “Just one more time Lance, I promise.” Lance hung his head and began crying. “He was on death row anyway, so don't be so hard on yourself. I've just changed the implement of his demise.” “Please.” “I'm sorry, but you need to go through this. It's not just a lesson on what will happen if you don't feed, but there is s transformation you must learn too.” “Then teach me. There is no need for this.” “This isn't that kind of transformation.” And with that he punctured the convict's hand. “You know that beast you keep asking me about?” Lance's attention was grabbed by the blood on the wound. He stared at it and felt himself responding. Something strange was happening. He resisted. He felt like a tap had been turned on inside him and it flowed into him. He tried to stem the flow but there was too much. His body could not withhold the power. His teeth and jaw stretched to contain it. He felt his conscious mind slipping away as his body began to stretch and grow. As his mind was being consumed by blood he heard: “you are becoming it.” The last thing he saw was the tiny man infront of him. So small. So full of...BLOOD! He tried so hard thought Oren. He couldn't have planned it better if he'd tried. *** No comments, too worn out to think. Ref 96=
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 11, 2011 15:25:22 GMT -5
Part 67Oren lazed against a tree. The huge beast next to him grunted and woke. Slowly it began to shrink until it became human-ish. Lance held his head. “That..was..horrifying. Is there no cure?” “Successful resisting generally entails biting yourself or gouging out your eyes. I don't think there are any other success stories, although sating your thirst, sometimes on yourself, will stop it too.” Lance looked at his hands, trembling. “Do not worry, I will not force you to shed blood again unless the need arises.” “Why did I have to?” “Do you remember the transformation?” He hung his head. “You can now tap that same power. As long as it is not awakened by blood you will keep control.” “I will never use it.” “Oh, you will use it, but you won't need it unless you're in Kellwood. And even then, sightings are rare.” “Why are you doing this to me?” “Because we need allies, and we weren't happy with the heartless fare the forest vomited in our faces.” “So why not pick a soldier? You knew I was not of that tree. If you think what I am will make up for who I am you are sorely mistaken.” “The extras we are teaching you are only partly to heighten your abilities. The fighting ability may be utterly wasted on you, but you are better off having it than not. You were chosen with the idea of reading the enemy in mind. Political lines are fuzzy and shifting in the forest. We need someone who can see through strategies and tactics to the motivations behind them. “I see, well, if that is Charby's wish.” His demeanour softened at Charby's name. ----- “Good morning Elizabeth.” “Oh, greetings Mr Redford, how fare thee?” “Oh just fine.” There was an awkward silence. She was expecting the start of their lesson. “We have run into a problem Miss Mauriello. Your skills are advancing too quickly.” She beamed with pride “Perhaps I have nothing left to learn then?” “Indeed, your learning with me is almost complete, but a few things remain. So in order to stay your teacher a little longer, I need to give you a handicap.” “And what, praytell, would be the nature of such?” Oren placed the yellowwood box he'd been holding to his chest on the ground. Elizabeth barely managed to contain her gasp as she opened it. Within lay two weapons similar to hers, but the finest craftsmanship she'd ever seen. They were clearly superior to hers. She gingerly picked them up. They lacked the luminescent aura of her own weapons, but they dripped a silvery, pungent poison. These were enchanted for hunting. “There is a little room left. You can fill them with your light, but it will take some effort. Fighting with such inferior weapons with strengthen you so that you can be better with your normal weapons.” “As you wish, I shall use these for the time being.” To the anyone else they looked like blades usable by any side, but to Oren they had a much more sinister purpose. ----- Things were starting to come together. He didn't doubt sire's lack of love for humankind, but there were certainly much worse options. If they could get a power stake it would help keep the tide out of the city. He didn't care. Not as much as he used to. He'd paid his debt. What debt? It's not like society had dealt him a generous hand to begin with. Perhaps it was time to pass the baton. He wrapped up the two familiar books. “To Mr Lance Knight”. He didn't want to deliver them in person. Lance would accept him into his home, but it was awkward and Oren was trusted, but he could see there were undertones of fear and frustration. He could only hope time would work it out. This was one thing Lance would be eager to get into, but then, he'd been wrong before. There was no harm and trying, and he didn't need these any longer. He added a note: “Sammy says the latest wave of high-ups snuck past city planners and are encroaching on his property. We aren't going to do anything yet, much to the disappointment of him and our charge. I think it would work best if they were allowed to continue for the time being. They are going to go big-bang implementation to try and grab as much land a possible before protests. This will play into our hands. I need you to block off-plan buying, I don't want innocent buystanders involved. Should be easy given the amount of hoops they have to delicately jump through to pull this off. *** I'm enjoying this again. I thought it would be good to put in someone who didn't want to be turned. Everybody nowadays thinks, vampires, who wouldn't want to be one. But as Amy has pointed out before, they are mythologically rotting corpses, and needing blood and not seeing the sun aren't the minor nuisances they are held out to be. ref 97e
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 17, 2011 16:54:09 GMT -5
Part LXVIII Five fishing rods lay with their handles at Oren's feet. One twanged and a fish sailed overhead. “Another one for Menu” Oren said disappointedly as he put it in the basket. “I don't get why you don't just dive in?” said a puzzled Charby. “Tlaca fish are not very hospitable and I'd rather not spend the next few days squeezing enchanted venom out of me.” “Oh, so that's why this lake has a no swimming notice on it. I thought it was from the magic fallout two centuries ago.” “How do you think the Tlaca fish got here?” They stared at the rods in silence. “So what's up with Lance? I mean, I can understand not wanting to be one of us, but once you are, heck, roll with it! I mean, he's got all that power now and he just wants to carry on as usual. He doesn't even want blood.” “So what type of minion do you want sire?” “How about another one like you?” “You mean someone who recklessly endangers his own sanity and existence for power?” “Well, okay, but you know what I mean.” “Perhaps you'd prefer a helpless doormat like Vadim or Osbert. I'm sure we could use the cannon fodder?” “That hurt Oren.” “Oh, so you'd prefer someone with a bit more ambition.” “Heck yeah!” “Like Adria?” “Stop %£$#&!ing messing with me! That's it! Noogie time.” “Oww sire, that hurts.” Zip “Hey, got one. Now Hex can do that potion he's been messing with.” He paused “On a more serious note, he's just the kind of person you need. He doesn't let what he is get to him.” “You think he'll be better than you?” Charby jibed. “Actually, I think he will.” Zip “Just a lot less fun. Well, we only need one of these monsters, and I'm already dreading carrying Menu's share home. Let's go.” “You go, I'm going to visit my lucky lady.” “Say hi to our favourite chewtoy for me while you're at it.” Charby grinned “We must do that again sometime.” ----- Leonard stopped. Something was not right. He smelt blood. He crouched and slowly crawled forward. There were signs of a scuffle. He scouted the scene. It looked like whatever had happened was over. He quietly snuck into the area and gently closed the mouth of a sack. As he carried it off the stink of fish embraced him. This would do nicely for a few days. ***Should I keep you in suspenders? Yes, I'll keep you in suspenders. Misspeling is dilibrit this thyme. Ref 68--
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 20, 2011 15:21:00 GMT -5
PArt LXIX
It had all been so sudden. He'd moved aside a bush and there he was. But he wasn't scared. The luminous eyes of his grandsire penetrated his mind. His primal wards pushed back. He was no ordinary prey and primal magic could not be resisted. But it wasn't that simple. Quixoto bludgeoned his way through tough defences. Oren resisted but slowly his mind fell. The light went out in Oren's eyes and his instinct took over. As his consciousness faded he saw himself chasing a squirrel. It was over.
-----
Charby stood over Oren. He was eating something. It was too disfigured to tell what it was. It stank. Or was that Oren? He grimly raised the staff of Oswego with tears in his eyes. So this was it. His will faltered and his hand succumbed to gravity. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let Oren live like this, but he couldn't go through with it. He ran.
-----
Something reached out of the darkness. A hand gently grabbed him and then yanked him awake. It was not the gentle embrace of a loved one, or the strength of a friend. Nor was it the call of ambition. It was blood! Crude and raw, filled with the life of a fresh victim. Slowly the haze of madness faded. He was feeding. He felt control flooding into his body. He woke. No time, it must be quick this time. He closed his eyes and tried to picture his mind. He sank quickly into meditation. The complex mass of glyphs twisted and turned around him. He would have to leave. He felt sanity leaving him as he dived below the surface. His essence glittered below him once more. He looked up and his body and mind loomed ready to devour his consciousness again. He trembled. The void was so empty, so lonely. And perhaps he would never be able to go back. He felt the madness take his body, but here he was safe. As looked upon the language of creation the cruel words echoed in his soul. “So, my whelp has a new minion does he? Let's see what it's made of!” and after the assault as his sanity finally slipped from his grasp, “not bad, that was almost fun.” and then the pain of his heart being wrenched out. He had not seen Quixoto feed it to a fox who'd been watching hungrily. What a fool he had been. He thought he had the right. He had no rights. When he had been human he had rights before his fellows. When he had died he still had those, and even before the soulless demons he'd had a few rights. But before God, before creation, no being had any rights. You were given your life, your existence, everything. What could you ransom yourself with that didn't already belong to these? And if you were created to an existence of pain, who were you that you should bring them to account? If that was your purpose..
***Oohhoo, Oren getting all mopey, or what's left of hiim anyway. Ref 99=
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 22, 2011 16:26:16 GMT -5
Part LXX It was strange not having Oren around. He'd felt like a thorn in his side, but he'd always found a way around things. Lance was struggling. He lacked Oren's creativity. Sire did not see him much. He was distraught over the loss. So here he was in the office of Mr Mangus. Listening to an explanation of how goods went through the company. He shouldn't have taken this job. Mr Mangus was naïve and assumed he wouldn't find out about the rest of his operation while Lance searched for the saboteur of his legitimates. Something was not right here, something was being held back. He could not understand what. Body language could only tell you so much and his client was an expert at hiding things. He was so frustrated that he used it. He immediately felt sad. He never used it, this lack of discipline was rare. But that quickly changed to shock. He meant to kill someone. He looked again. His heart grew cold as the thoughts trickled over. It had become so natural, taking another man's life was just a daily chore. One word and his goon would secure the property. The widow would have no choice but to sell. It was everything he stood against. It made even his sire, who added pleasure to his feeding, look like a saint. “Thank you Mr Mangus” he interrupted.”I know quite enough now.” He turned on his heel and left quickly. His thoughts raced. Oh God, help me, what do I do? He's going to kill an innocent man. And what can I tell the police? I read his mind? He's not even getting his own hands dirty. He's corrupted so many men to do his bidding, but he never stains his own hands. Revulsion rose within him. The back of the limousine was hidden by soundproof tinted glass. It would be. Lance ‘poofed’ in. Mr Mangus stared at his orange eyes in shock. Lance trembled in the silence. Anticipation or fear, he knew not, perhaps both? Without emotion Lance set his teeth to his neck and drank. The euphoria washed over him. He could not devour his victim like his sire, but a good spell made many wrongs right. He missed Oren, to at least do this for him, or preferably find another way. What had he done? This man had a child, a wife, what would they do now. Sorrow rose within him and he collapsed on a rooftop and wept. One moment of weakness, just one. ----- There was a loud knock on the door. Lance's footsteps slowly clattered across the beige tiles. The door swung open to reveal the loud visage of Miss Mauriello. “Well, this certainly is an unexpected surprise, how can I help you ma'am?” “I am seek a man, and was lead to believe you are competent.” “Indeed I am. Do come in.” Lance quickly ticked off the options in his mind and settled for two of the top ten evils. Her style was very potent, it looked like the same technique that Oren had based his on. Either way, she would pay well, and it would keep him distracted. Perhaps he would impress her a little to get more work. He didn't care about the money anymore, and he needed a distraction. “So,” he said, stirring his cup, “Who is the elusive target?” “Actually, it's not a target. This is strictly between us, but I am seeking Mr Redford.” Shock covered Lance's face. What did he have to do with her? Mistaking the worry for fear of the job Elizabeth hastily continued. “I do not mind assisting where I can, but I have been struggling to find a replacement tutor since he left. At first I had assumed it was one of his mysterious spontaneous va..” “You must not go near that man.” He cut her off. “I'm sorry Mr Knight, but that is not an option, I need to finish my training.” Mr Knight had a haunted look. “What I mean is. Nothing is what it seems with that man. Trouble follows him around. No one has managed to blame him, but whether directly or indirectly the cause, he is the centre of much chaos, please, for your own safety, stay away.” Oren was her trainer? The possibilities began running through his mind. “I am a Mauriello, I do not consider ‘luck’ to be of any importance. I..” “Oren has disappeared. I could find him but he is likely a corpse. You must leave.” He turned and left a fuming knight behind him. He barely managed to hold his tears until he reached the next room. Oren, what have you done? He gathered himself as he heard Miss Mauriello slamming the door. He was gone now. ***I swore I had more filler in this part but, buh! Whatever. Ref 100=
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 26, 2011 19:00:22 GMT -5
Part LXXI Void surrounded him. Below his essence shimmered as he repaired the damage. He was working on his mind, but the effects reflected all the way back to the inky blackness below. Slowly he repaired his mind. Some damage was obvious, some was tricky, and some he just prayed would become easier when he had fixed other things. He had been outclassed. When it came to tricky wards Quixoto was no amateur. He found creative ways around them. He had countered the auto-repair by forcing his mind to rewrite itself. He had woven a delicate lie for the logic check, and he had sprayed his mind with glass shards just to make sure. The work was painfully slow with primal magic. Days, weeks, months. Years. But gradually he felt the beast without calm. His body was sleeping as he returned to it. He woke. Hungry. Blinded he tore through the forest sinking his fangs into any warmth. Soon he regained just enough control to hold on for a few minutes. As luck would have it the wind carried cheesy ‘jungle adventure’ music through the leaves. He had almost lost control by the time an escapee splashed his escape. With the subtlety of a bull he put his hand over the mouth of his meal and clamped down on the terrified dinner. Blood. Beautiful blood. Healing blood. Life-giving blood. There had been two as he began to chew. Lucky night. ----- The last bite of his meal was laced with melancholy. It descended into sadness. Which sank into depression. It had all been his. All the power, everything he wanted. Taken in a few short minutes. All destroyed. Robotically he stood up. He slowly walked to his house. The hill had caved in long ago. Vines covered broken stone. The shiny black of primal stone gleamed beneath three years of foliage. Had it been that long? The door was broken revealing the wreckage inside. Slowly he lifted a piece of his life. He scraped the dirt away with his hand and pushed it into its place. The perfect fit betrayed Oswego's work. Haunted eyes contemplated the anguish of his master. Block......block.....block..... One by one the shards returned. Piece by piece his life began to take shape once more. Then the first trap room, then the second. He only hunted when his body screamed, and even then, did not go far. It had been three days. He was half way through the sixth trap. The stone clicked in. It was complete. He stood up. His eyes were fuller, stronger, but still empty. He flew off to feed. He would never recover all that was lost, but he would rebuild what he could. He would make do, adapt, and carry on. He would be ready for next time. Oren's eyes narrowed. He could still not win, but he would give the monster the fight of his life next time they met. ----- The flat was thumping with disco as he settled outside. He knocked on the door loudly. “It's not ten yet!” came an irritated yell from within. He knocked louder. “Ok, I'm coming, I'm coming.” A lanky teen yanked the door open. “Whaddya wa...” he yelled above the music. Short greased purple hair and oversized clothes betrayed him as a raver. “Your are mine. Stay just like that. You will eat, sleep on the sofa and do nothing else, you will not answer the phone, you will not answer the door. Go.” Oren locked the door behind him, took the keys, turned off the music and made dinner from the meagre shopping he had brought. He slapped in an old CD and spent much of the evening playing an old favourite. In the morning he stood up and got ready for work. He twisted his face into an unfamiliar form and walked the familiar path to his old office. “Oh, can I help you?” “I'm the temp here from Staff4life.” “Oh, of course, come in. What did we want you for again...” It was easy to hypnotise his way through the day. He picked up his old work. The new person was lazy and had made everyone else wish he hadn't left. They would be relieved. For a day. He walked home past the silent shops. Shops that would only open for the vampire, not for him. Shops beyond his means. So this is what it had been like. He hadn't lost many memories, but like all memories, they seemed so distant. He arrived home and prepared a generous serving of...beans on toast. Played games. Slept. *** Memories. Sometimes I lose perspective and need to sit down and remember where I'm from, how I got here. ref 102-
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Post by nightreflection on Nov 29, 2011 16:50:03 GMT -5
Part, uh, LXXII Behold. What a load of cr** I have written with my own hand.
He awoke, released sleeping beauty and tottered off in the guise of his true self, a common man, to see what was left of his empire. The petrified managers were still working as if he had never left. It was still good money. Zeke was looking after master. He had taken Oren's loss hard, but still looked after the shop, even though he wasn't bound any more. Horns on the other hand. The day management, who'd never bothered to examine the building properly, were having a song and a laugh. The books were a wreck, there was poor organisation, and the shelves were full of bubblegum. He pondered this and then flew home.
-----
It had started raining again. He used primal magic to create an energy source and began reforming the walls with regular magic. It was painful, and he would never be able to recreate what he had lost. The sense of care was replaced by an air of crudeness. He would smooth it over in time, but it would never have the enthusiasm of the first build. He finished the last few touches on master's bedroom and saw the sun peeping over the horizon as he left. A few more minutes and some primal growth and the top was as good as before. He lay down in his newly repaired room and slept. He dreamed of the man who dropped his hourglass, reaching down and slowly piecing together the pieces. It was hopeless, but at least he was trying. He stopped after the heart was repaired. It was good to have friends.
He pulled out the unofficial map of the forest. That, he decided, would be it. He put eight beacons around his fortress and flew off into the forest. He alighted in a tree near welves. They would be good cover. He waited for nightfall, concentrated and cast primal. The house exchanged places, but the only noticeable difference was a new shack, ramshackle and about to fall apart it looked like it had been there forever. Even the ever curious welves, while questioning how they missed it, wouldn't bother with it. Primal didn't use any energy, so he flew off. There was so much to do, but he was so weak.
-----
His majesty was not in a good mood, and did not enjoy being woken. Apparently it had been a rough night and he was sleeping it off. It was now 4 pm. He staggered into the side room. He did not usually do audiences, but this one had thrown one of his guards half way across the room. He recognised the energy from outside. Not him. He thought he was out of the picture. He was a good ally, but hard work. He didn't like hard work. “Good evening your majesty.” “Drop the face Oren.” “Sorry, I don't want to advertise just yet. Is the £#$%! still loose?” he said casually. “Last I heard he was having dinner with one of my subjects. I go through so many. So, are you here to entertain me with more magic tricks?” Samrick looked hopeful. He liked the slight of hand stuff. You got bored of the real thing eventually. “My house is now on your land. Well, in to be more precise. What do you want in payment?” “Ooh goody!” Samrick clapped his hands with glee. “How about gold? No wait, a relic.” His hands tingled at the thought of a legendary primal relic. Oren smirked “But of course your majesty, but first, why don't you show me your collection.” Samrick turned his nose up at the suggestion but obliged Oren anyway.
Relics from forgotten ages lined the walls. Oren could sense their power. Many lore had forgotten or marked as ‘lost’. They headed in and at the back was an ancient necklace of teeth and amber. This must be Samrick's pride and joy. He could see the panic set in Samrick's face as he approached it. He reached out his hands next to the pedestal closed his eyes and began the fakery. Soon he cast a glyph and another pedestal appeared behind the first. “That should suffice” he said walking out with a dismissive wave. Samrick's grin was huge, he couldn't take his eyes off it. He could feel they were both real. What's more, with Oren under his nose he would have more chances to keep an eye on the stirrer.
*** I've actually written quite far ahead (I need to review it a number of times to pull out the worst of my horrific spelling and grammar.) I have officially stopped writing four times now... I'm currently writing again ;D I was going to do my own story. But I'm into this and it's more therapeutic. Ref 103-
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 4, 2011 16:49:22 GMT -5
Part LXXIII
“Hey Charby! Shut that whine coming from your room. Honestly, the things I put up with.” Charby stared at the wall. “That's not funny Menu.” “I'm being serious, now get moving.” He rushed up the stairs. The portal hummed with newly activated humminess. He couldn't believe it. He touched it and the familiar spark leapt at him. But who? Gingerly he went wolf and leapt through ready to punish whoever had been excavating.
Oren sat in front of him, quiet, but very sane. He tilted his head and smiled, but said nothing. Charby opened his mind. It couldn't be. It was! He leapt at Oren and threw his arms around him. “Oren!” He yelled happily. “I always knew you had a plan.” “Actually sire, I didn't” he whispered back. “That was my mistake. I played it safe, but I never thought Lampface would get behind me so quickly. I suppose I forgot a simple rule.” “Which one Oren?” “No matter how good you get, there will always be someone more powerful.” “So, wanna go for a drink?” Charby looked up and grinned hungrily. “Just like old times?” “Just like old times.”
They picked a quiet little alley and whacked a goon and his buddy hiding out for their next victim. Mmmmph, that's good. Nothing washes away a hard day's work like a good meal Oren thought. A siren went off. “We should move to the back of the alley in case they peek down.” said Charby looking up from his room. “Mwum moft mfoffief.” said Oren dragging his meal by his teeth. Charby erupted with laughter and for just a moment, everything was as it had been. “By the way, your brother had his first freewill offering while you were out.” Oren had finished drinking and looked up. “Damn I wish I'd been there to see it, About time too. Hopefully he will be a bit more normal now.” “Not likely, he seems to have taken it hard.” “I'll see if I can ease the pain.” He smiled to himself. He'd wondered when Lance would stop sitting on the fence.
-----
It was a quiet night. There was a knock on the door. “Come in sire.” “It's, uh, it's not sire, may I have a minute?” Lance? The place gave him the creeps. This must be something pretty urgent or pretty bad. “It's not like the door's not open.” Lance ‘poofed’ into the room. “I'm, I'm sorry to bother you.” He looked very disturbed, this was probably about the freewill offering. “I took a life.” “Congratulations, I was wondering if you'd ever get around to it.” “Yes uh, sire was ecstatic about it, but that's not why I'm here.. I feel so guilty.” Oren smiled and spoke reassuringly, “Meet me at Cafes des Luna Llela tomorrow at about five-ish, I've got something to show you.” Lance left with a muddle of emotions. Oren's lessons were known for their harshness, but they usually worked.
*** Here ya goes. I've been a lazy boy. laaaaazzyyyy... ref 104-
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 10, 2011 7:15:41 GMT -5
Part LXXIV Lance was sipping a gin and tonic when bat Oren plopped into the seat opposite him. Oren never drank, but Lance had a carefully controlled amount regularly. His posture was clearly depressed. Oren ordered two meals and they ate in silence. He let Lance drink up the sorrow. It was an important part of dealing with it.
“Okay Mr Mopey, time to shake that patootie” said Oren getting up. “Meet you outside.” Oren put the money on the table and left the way he came while Lance headed for the door. Oren spread his wings and leapt from the roof. A few minutes later he was joined by Lance. “So, which monster did you monster?” squeaked Oren. “Mr Mangus” if ever a batsqueak could sound depressed. Oren veered off to the Mangus residence. They alighted on the roof, verminised and crept down to watch.
A child sat playing. He was happily enjoying his toys, but there was an air of sadness about him. It had been over a year, but he went quiet for minutes at a time. Sometimes asked when daddy was coming home, sometimes crying a little. Lance had avoided seeing this. Tiny tears rolled over his fur. The mother had busied herself with work and seemed to ignore the child. Lance felt so guilty. “Oh well, at least they have money he said quietly.” “No, at least she has money. Children travel second class in these families.” They watched for an hour and slowly Lance's guilt grew. This was not the kind of lesson he'd hoped for. A paw on his paw drew his attention to reality and Oren lead him back out.
Their next home was all the way across town, in the real poor neighbourhood. The owner of this one had at least made an effort. Relics of a more lavish lifestyle cluttered the tiny flat. A little boy sat in the corner. He had hardly any toys and they were so worn. He held them to himself as if they were all he had. They probably were. His face was a picture of suffering. The mother was busy doing the housework. They could not afford any help, they couldn't afford a house. They had no idea where the next month's rent would come from, but they kept plodding on. Tears filled Lance's eyes as he read the story of their life, how they had lost the father/husband, had to sell everything they held dear, and even when that was done the cruel banks collected things they'd thought sacred. They had been stripped of everything and even more, but there was a glint in the mother's eye. “I... Is the.... Did Mr Mangus have this blood on his hands?” “Yes.” “I understand, let's go” he said sadly. “No, we stay.” and slowly the reality of things seeped into his heart. He began to feel the anger Oren felt at the people who'd done this. When they left he was fuelled by anger. So fuelled that he didn't notice they weren't heading home.
He recognised the house. This was the life he'd saved. His anger was washed away in a torrent of joy as he eagerly scampered down and hid under the couch. A hissing face confronted him but a little hypnosis and it was forgotten in a minute. “Daddy!” came a little girl's cry. She ran downstairs and threw her arms around him. He spun her and she giggled. A silent tear joyously slid over Lance's cheek as Mommy came over and joined in the hug. He stayed until they went to bed. He didn't know when Oren left. Sadness and regret would haunt him for this no longer. The next day he applied for law school. He qualified for jury and executioner, now he just needed the Judge part. He made a promise that while he would make his own law, he would base it on principles, until then he would live on a chilled food diet. *** Hoo boy! What a week! Ref 105-
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 13, 2011 14:36:12 GMT -5
Part LXXV The new rich elite were slowly sinking their talons into the soft flesh of Kellwood. His absence had created a void. He would have to keep fighting, but he had an idea. It would require one more ‘party’ but a little twist could help avoid most of the negative publicity associated with it. But first, a little party trick. He looked at the sparkly clean bathroom. Menu would never forgive him for this. He pulled out a blood bag and poured it into a cup. The orphanage made such sweet blood. This one in particular never made it to the blood bank. He was against the risks of primal magic for entertainment, but he needed something to break the tension and remind them of old times. He also felt guilty to sire for losing his mind. He knew it was baseless, but he couldn't be bothered to weed that emotion. He used a primal copy glyph until he'd filled a bowl. He copied the bowl until he had a bucket and then began filling the bath. He hooked up a little shower Azelea had added as an afterthought and had a stream trickle near the taps. She'd be so pleased he chuckled. “I've got something for you sire.” he shouted, realising how bad it sounded. “It had better not be butter!” chimed Menu with a gleeful chuckle. He'd locked the door but Tony poked his nose in anyway. His hand went to his mouth. “Dat's jes sick!” he left as quickly as he'd come. Charby arrived in a puff of smoke. His eyes lit up. “Aww yeah!” Oren left and a few seconds later he was splashing happily and laughing. “Where youse get all dat bloods?” Tony had returned from the second bathroom. “Primal copy” grinned Oren. “Youse better not lets Mye see dat mess.” Oren rolled his eyes. “Yes, I'll clean it up. It was just nice to play with magic.” There was a splash and a gleeful maniacal chuckle. “And of course, I like sire happy.” ----- It was a quiet evening. Oren let the management of Horns have their way. He wanted a few more things in place before he replaced them. A few comments about their diet in the meantime may be a devious little perk. A little kid walked towards him down the alley. Not another one he thought. He would have to expand the orphanage soon. Something was wrong here. The boy ran up to him and wrapped his cold embrace around his leg. “Please help me mister. I want to go home.” “What's your name little boy?” “Matthew Littleton.” a pale fangy face looked up at him. “I'm sorry Matthew, you can't go home.” “Why not, please sir, pleeeease.” He was desperate. Oren sat on his haunches and put his hand under the boy's chin. “It's a long story, I need a second to explain this to you.” “Please don't hurt me like that lady. I thought I was going to die.” He was crying. Oren sighed. He held out his hand. “Bite”. The child looked at him confused. “That's right, bite me.” The child carefully bit into Oren's hand and then let go. Oren showed him the hand. There were two neat holes in it. “You are already dead, and if you went home you would just kill your family.” Matthew stood quietly for a few seconds and then slowly broke down into tears. Oren let him wail for a while. Normally he would just end the boy's suffering right there, but recent events had made him softer. He waited until the kid had quietened down, “Okay Matthew, we'll see what we can do for you, but you can't go back to your family.” Matthew looked up at Oren with that innocent trusting look. Oren took his hand and they walked back down the alley. “So I have to drink blood now?” “Yes.” “Ewwwwww.” “Oh that won't last for long.” “And I have to sleep during the day?” “The sun will kill you.” “Aww.. I won't be able to see my friends.” “It's best that way, don't worry, I'll get you new ones.” “Yay!' The questions followed them all the way to the Cabin. Matthew was even practising shape-shifiting by the time they arrived - very badly, but it would come with time. He rang the doorbell and Menu answered. “What no lackeys around tonight?” “Hmph, you could just come in you know.” “I want to leave this with you.” He held Matthew up by the scruff of the neck. “Ow, that.. Wolfboy, cooool.” “Sorry but we're full up.” “I'll make him a room, he just needs somewhere to hang during the day. Remember, he's the sort that leaves the meat.” Wolfboy grinned widely, “Well then, come in.” “Hey sire, look what the cat dragged in.” “Where'd you find this?” Charby did not like competition. “Actually he found me. Now listen Matthew, be careful around here, you p*#! off the wrong demon and you will be dead dead.” “Yessir” he said. “Sire, can you lend me one of you ready-meals?” “Aww...I've got just enough.” He needn't have worried, Oren copied it. Desperate times and all. “Here you go, try this.” Matthew was shaking as he bit into the bag but the wave of bliss that followed spoke of a happy ending. Oren went outside and used the good old cutting spell to make a cold stone box. He cut a small winding rat hole so most denizens couldn't get in. It was very blank and dark, but then dark never was a problem for vampires. It would be cold, but again... Hopefully with the company in the cabin he would turn out all right, or at least not a horrific disaster. *** I promise, not ALL the views are me updating Ref 106e
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 17, 2011 5:28:47 GMT -5
Part LXXVI There was reverent silence as the last psalm was read. A last word and a last prayer. He hadn't been close to his cousin, but her passing saddened him. He would get used to it with time, but there would be stronger bonds to break. He'd run from his family sick of being a burden to them. It had turned out being fiercely independent was a good way to get nowhere. But he had too much pride, and he needed a kick in the pants before he would do anything. He still spent a lot of time on his own, but strangely, he fitted in well with demons. He shovelled a sod of earth onto the coffin and paid his last respects. Who was he? To spite death, to challenge it and win? How fate had favoured him. How many went through their lives desperate to find something worth fighting for? And here he had eternal life. And it was life, his life life paled in comparison. He left with a sense of the sadness of fate. Let the dead bury their own he thought. ----- The management of Horns looked nervously at each other. This was the first meeting with all of them in it since Oren had returned. By now they realised they had all been very naughty and feared for their jobs. He had waited three months for this and they imagined the amount of evidence he had stacked against them was enormous. Oren walked into the room. He was in a good mood. Some tried to respond with like and failed, most just held on to what little dignity they could. The smell of fear saturated the room. It smelt good. He'd been planning so much lately, and this was just the start of an avalanche. “I don't usually reserve this treatment for people who've only robbed me blind he opened.” They hung their heads. They all knew what was coming. “But you've all done it so well and so shamelessly, and it's my money too, so I reserve the right to be petty.” “Mr Redford, if you could please give us a chance.” The stores supervisor couldn't even make eye contact. “I am going to introduce you to three of my best friends.” Some of them froze in terror. This wasn't a sacking, he was going to have them arrested! A bang in the air duct startled them. There was a huge sigh of relief as a little child dropped out of it. He head red eyes and vampire teeth and a spiky hairdo, it was laughable, a Halloween parade?Is that what Oren had in store for them? Charby drew the blinds over the spy-window in the door. There was another bang and another child dropped out. Glowy yellow eyes completed the look on this one, he held a bilge-hook in his hand, how cute. They started laughing. And then stopped. Oren wasn't anymore. In his place was a similar creature. They gathered their nerves. “If you're trying to scare us, you'll have to do better than this.” said Shirley the finance manager. “Where's that $£%^& scurvy Weremutt!” yelled Charby. “Too bad, we'll just have to start without him.” What happened next is best not described in any detail, let's say they got... creative... it wasn't exactly well planned or executed. Fortunately the office was soundproof. By the time Menu got there there was plenty of bitesize meat to go around, but it was hard to find a spot to sit without getting blood on his coat. Oren had given the supervisors temporary godhood shortly before joining the meeting. He didn't have much time before management tasks were needed, but it had all been planned. *** I dunno, does this whole thing sound a bit too much like a revenge fest? Ref 107e
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 21, 2011 16:15:28 GMT -5
Part LXXVII “Hi Oren.” “Good morning Ms Sellis, is your lord and mistress in?” “Yes, but she still won't see you.” “That's fine, please give her this letter.” “The usual then. You never did tell me what upset her so.” “I'm afraid it's going to get worse before it gets better.” “Oh no!”
Laura gingerly handled the envelope. She licked her lips with fear. Oren did not deliver by hand. Carefully she worked her fingernail across the top. She knew it wouldn't be a trap, but she couldn't help it. Slowly the contents slid out of the envelope. She opened it up and read “Prepare for change”. It was in big letters across the page. In blood. She dropped it.
“Hold my calls Ms Sellis” she said hurriedly exiting the building. She went home and hid in her room. She had a whole house, but this was the only one where she felt safe. The rest were full of memories. Father, mother. How they had hidden their stain. How it frustrated her. She never used the rest of the house. For all she knew it had burnt down. Just her not-so-little room with the en-suite wardrobe and bathroom. Private memories of her and her alone. The halls beyond lurked with frustrated memories. They had been so kind. How could they? Whatever Oren had planned, it was not good. She'd heard the managers of Horns had vanished. They had learnt to take liberties in Oren's absence. Had they really been that bad, or was Oren finally going over the edge?
-----
Oren and Charby were discussing dinner. They were interrupted by the crash-bang of a garbage can being knocked over. Steps grew louder and a mobster ran past. They were about to pursue when the pitter-patter of lighter steps approached. “Hi Matthew” “No time, I's got my eyeses on the prizes.” He waved a familiar hook. He disappeared around a corner. A few seconds later the sound of gunfire shattered the silence. Fearing the worst they dashed after him. Everyone had accepted that Matthew would not be around for long. A child in a demon world. One forgotten sunrise, one encounter with a hunter, or even a demon, and that would be it. Even so, their hearts would have been between their teeth had they been alive. The gunfire had calmed down in the half minute it took them to catch up.
The alley was full of dead gang members, in the centre, one was slouched against a pole. A little boy seemed to be attached to him at the neck. As they approached he looked up. “Hey guys, looks like plenty for everyone.” They breathed a sigh of relief. They'd all been so worried about him, but he'd thrived.
-----
He was chasing Menu around the room now. “Bring my breakfast back you moocher.” “Come take it from me ye scurvy rascal.” He was playing keepaway with a gangster's arm. He played his part in gathering supplies, but he liked to make Menu work for his share. Menu had finally found someone who enjoyed fighting. Inevitably there was blood involved, but they knew their limits and never did any permanent damage. He'd also developed an unhealthy addiction to magic and hence, books, thanks to Charby and Hex. The word “cool” had sounded so non-committal, but he even endured pain for the sake of learning. In fact he seemed to enjoy it a little. Oh well, no-one could be perfect. Oren was glad he wasn't the helpless sap he used to be.
It goes to show, he thought, with the right friends and acceptance kids can overcome almost anything. Even death ahahahahaha!
*** Nothing insightful to say. Sorry. ref 109-
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 24, 2011 14:27:02 GMT -5
Part LXXVIII
It was a really big shin-dig. Everyone who was anyone was there. Most of the guests complemented the host, Mr Cairns for keeping certain parties off the guest list. It was nice not having someone to prick your conscience. The party was in full swing and the guests danced to the tunes of the classiest band in Kelwood. The only thing people objected to was the lack of reception in the dining room. Victor was standing outside the door. He'd landed a job as waiter. Blaine had been covering all the parties since an anonymous tip off, and Victor had a pretty good idea who to look for, although this was not a likely target. The host and his estate were well known, and the party had been planned well before the warning. Everyone working had a clean background, the only suspicious thing was the lack of certain guests from the list. It was not Mr Cairns’ usual exclusion list. “Hey you, get to work, you're not being paid to loaf.” “Yes sir.” said Victor, reluctantly going back into the room.
The strange black building squatted a way away from the edge of the king's land. It was square and almost alien. There was no noise. It had been soundproofed. “So, do you think they have a clue?” Charby chimed in cheerfully. “Oh goody goody goody, this is going to be so much fun.” said the king. “Although I'm not quite sure about the normal little biter.” he said looking at Matthew. “I promise I'll be good sir.” He said with a vicious smile. “Aww, how can I resist that face. And it's your majesty to you.” “Come on, let's get to eating already!” Menu was impatient, he'd been like an over-excited puppy for the last half hour. Several scuffles had broken out between him and little Mattoothy.
It had been a delightful evening so far. The food had been gorgeous. A lackey announced that the host would like to give a speech to the guests before the plates were properly put away. Unfortunately, a few minutes before he was due to go down Mr Cairns took a call, so he was, unbenownst to the lackey, going to be a few minutes late. Mr Jenkins prodded Victor and asked him to quickly run up and fetch the host. Pity victor did not see Mr Jenkins walking past on the other side of the room as he turned to carry out his duty. The staff retreated to the kitchen and the doors were shut.
Oren quietly exchanged the portal pillars from the main room entrance to where they had been yesterday. He walked through the empty dining room. Tables laid out, but bare and the band equipment not arrived yet. Just how it had been before he copied it. He did the same with the staff entrance and slid a piece out of both of them shutting the portals down. He'd been so glad he'd discovered that trick. Magic and 'Magic' he mused, the trick was over before it had begun. He opened his mini-portal and joined Samrick. “Ooh goody!” said Samrick, “Rat for dinner!” “Very funny your majesty.” said Oren sarcastically. “Can we eat now Oboyoboyoboy!”
The lights had gone out suddenly, everyone was indignant and outraged. They didn't even stop complaining long enough to hear the sound of hoof on stone and the casual talk as a new entrance opened to let in some uninvited guests. Oren lit up a sun-orb and so began the game of ‘look what this one et.’ His majesty had the lion's share, but that was to be expected. They slouched down full and happy, and talked idle chatter until the sun rose. Oren had brought his larger portal and let Matthew ride it back. There was blood, bone and worse everywhere. A primal heat spell and all that was left was glass and bone. The forest around caught fire, but Sammy would have someone deal with that.
***Lots of hits, I'm guessing holiday boredom and people who don't realise you can see the latest installment in this atrocity in the last 50 posts section. Thanks for viewing those who do. ref 110-
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Post by nightreflection on Dec 27, 2011 19:12:47 GMT -5
Part LXXIX Victor thought hard about the night before. The police were questioning everyone but all they got was the same story. One minute there was a party, the next, and empty room. It had to be Oren. Mr Knight was here, but even he would probably never figure this one out. Mr Cairns was being held by police, and it wasn't looking good for him. He'd accidentally left some evidence in his safe. He'd even given them the code, it's like he didn't even know it was there. Laura read the morning paper. So he'd done it again. She shuddered. How many more times? Mr Cairns was the perfect scapegoat. He had moved in shortly after the last massacre and wasted no time in filling the gap with his own brand of injustice. He was famous for his parties of course, but who would have guessed him to be a psychopath. And, of course, the gap would make more opportunities for him. No-one questioned why someone as genius as him, to pull it off silently last time, would do something so blatantly obvious this time. The police had their killer there would be peace. As if. ----- So it was done. He had his clean slate. Now he had to build on it. Although things weren't going as smoothly as planned. They never did. “You did what!” Kerry was fuming. “No wonder I spent so long in this sickening dump. I swear, I could have clawed my eyes out it's so booooriiiing.” “I must admit Zeke, you took it a lot better.” “Don't you think I'm done here, by the time I through with you..” “Yes my dear,” Oren said with a toothy grin, “what by the time you're through with me?” “I.. I.. I..” she struggled for words “ I quit!” And out she stormed He should have expected it, she had always resisted. She was giving up so much, but then, the path he was asking her to take was not easy. “So what now?” said Zeke. “Well, we brainwash some brainless sap into covering your duties.” “I mean about the shop.” Oren ran his hand along the polished wooden desk. Hundreds of sweaty customers and weeks worth of cleaning had given it a sheen like a true classic. “All things must pass Zeke.” he said reluctantly. Zeke sighed, “It's just.. so many memories.” “There will be others. Part of life is learning to move on.” “I guess so.” Zeke sighed. “I just enjoyed having a ‘real’ job to go to.” “Oh, I have something very real in mind. Don't you worry about that. You've been good to us, now I shall return the favour. But first. A few chores for myself. Take the day off. I'll meet you in Horns tomorrow, 12 sharp.” “Got it.” said Zeke. He started drawing up a closing down sale poster, then thought better of it. Locked up and went home. ----- “Is it still there?” “Don't say that” the little girl said loudly, “Not it, him!” “Jennifer, I'm sorry, your brother is gone, whatever that is, it isn't him.” The spectre sat there often, silhouetted against the night sky. They had tried to get near it, but it vanished. No-one could get up on that fence anyway. They'd even had the police run infra-red to make sure it wasn't him. There was nothing there it was probably just a trick of the light. Jennifer went to her room in silence, but there was a twinkle in her eye. When she heard the sounds of the movie in full swing she quietly opened the window and snuck out in the silence. She knew how to move quietly. She slowly creeped over the fence and down the other side of the fence. Past the big brick house, through their garden, like she'd practised earlier. She knew where to step to make no noise. She was wearing her quiet sneakers as she shuffled along the wall, her tiny feet making no noise. She rounded the corner and her heart pounded. There he was, the moonlight shone off the boy's back, he was very much real. “Brother?” Matthew froze. “Brother, I know it's you.” He slowly turned to face her. “They said you were gone, but I knew you would come back. Please brother, come home, we miss you.” “I.... I'm sorry sis.” “No, please, I know mommy and daddy will forgive you, they cried so much.” Matthew was crying now. “I'm sorry sis, It's just that I'm... I'm not..” “Please, don't say no, please, I miss you brother.” “I'm not alive anymore.” he held his hand out. She laughed nervously “Oh, you're such a kidder, you can't be... Oh.” She was holding his hand. It was cold. “Please don't tell mom and dad. They won't understand.” Sis stood still for a while holding the cold hand. “O... Ok.” she didn't sound very certain. “Please sis, this is serious. It's not playing, it's for real, and they're only just getting used to me being gone.” Sis sniffed. “What happened?” “Sis.” He looked directly at her, “How are mom and dad?” “They, they miss you, but they're ok.” “You let me know if there's any problem, any, you hear?” “Yes brother.” He listened to her talk about everything that had happened. He missed his family so much. After a few hours the hunger began to take him. “..couldn't help but ask for..” “Sis!” He grabbed her by the shoulders.”You must go now.” “But I have so much more to tell you, there's..” “This is serious, if you don't leave now I could hurt you, please.” A cold hand grabbed her shoulder from behind. “Please. You must go, the monster is taking over.” She looked around and saw another dead person. She dropped into the garden and ran around to the house. She snuck back into her bedroom and ran into the kitchen. She looked out the window. The spectre was gone. He wanted to apologise, but he had to make sure she got away. “Just what have you been up to young lady?” “N.. nothing mom.” “You're cold, I told you not to go looking for him.” mommy scolded. “Now, now, did you find him?” came dad's more reasoned voice. Jennifer turned her head away awkwardly. “No, it was just like you said, just a caught plastic bag.” *** Taken from real life - kids have a way of surprising you. Sometimes they can show incredible insight. Although most of the time I do have to resist the urge to strangle. ref 112-
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 1, 2012 13:56:43 GMT -5
Part LXXX Lucy was enjoying a day of practice on the lake front. She didn't like twisting the rich around her finger initially but it became so easy. And the more she read them, the less guilt she felt. That and her conscience was worn, there were no sharp edges to poke her any more. “Hello sweetpea.” came a voice from behind her. “Why hello Mr Redford.” She said happily giving him her full attention. The poor sap she'd been buttering up had disappointed scrawled over his face. “Why don't we go for a walk my dear, I have something to show you.” “Ooh! This should be fun!' “Still in flirt mode I see?” “You're no fun, you know that?” “Charby says that too.” “Well, here's another one for you to ignore. Who is he anyway? There is no way you treat him like your kid.” “You'll find out soon enough.” She didn't like the sound of that. They rounded a rocky finger of land and stepped into a cleverly hidden bar. “Um.. Mr Redford.. Not that I don't trust you or anything, but why are we going into the basement. They don't serve drinks there.” “So no-one can hear you scream my dear.” Lucy stopped, “You're kidding me, right?” She'd always pegged him as a bit of a psychopath. “Not at all, have I ever lied to you?” “That's what I'm afraid of.” “I will not harm you, I'm just that goshdarn awesome.” She rolled her eyes. At least that she recognised as a jibe. They reached the basement. She wondered how Oren had gotten the keys. This wasn't one of his. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I need you to brace yourself.” She mentally prepped herself like he'd shown her. He locked the door and then quickly muttered something under his breath. She didn't catch it, but it didn't sound like any language she recognised. He stopped and faced her. She screamed. Then immediately put her hand on her mouth. She was so ashamed. She'd psyched herself so well. This was no doubt one of his tricks. “No it's not my dear, here, touch my face.” It was cold, his teeth were solid. But what happened next really shocked her. He pulled out a gun and blew his arm off. She gingerly picked it up and touched the socket. It clearly caused him pain. When she stepped back the arm dissolved in her hands and reformed. A tiny piece of paper rocked gently to the floor. A little blood grabbed the thirsty corner of it. Oren left her there, touching the blood. It had been real. Of that there was no doubt. She opened the tiny piece of paper. Even after many trembling unfoldings it remained rather insubstantial. It had the name of one of Oren's factories and 9pm written on it. *** I never could resist. I had to write it in sooner or later. Ref 112e
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 7, 2012 15:10:58 GMT -5
Part LXXXI Laura had just gotten home. She kicked off her shoes and let out a sigh of relief. “Hard day?” “You! Is there no place scared any more? Must you haunt me everywhere I go?” “I will soon be out of your hair Miss Grebes. That is why I am here. Go ahead. There is a knife in the drawer. Do your damndest.” She couldn't believe he was offering this to her. She wouldn't kill him, but she would make him regret it. She grabbed the knife and lunged at him blindly. Surprisingly he didn't dodge. The knife went through his shoulder. She realized what she'd done. She started to cry. The arm she'd mangled grabbed her shoulder “No. Don't cry.” She looked at him in shock. Oren took his shirt off. And wiped the wound. There was no wound, only a blood stain on his skin and clothes. “I have waited a long time to show you this too.” “Oh no, please....no.” she couldn't take another lesson. She put her hand to her mouth and screamed. She slid to the floor and her face fell into her hands where it sobbed. So this was the truth. No wonder he made it look so easy. Who knows what tricks he had? He put his finger under her chin and gently lifted her face. “Be at my first factory in an hour. That is not a request.” She sat huddled in the corner as he vanished in a puff of smoke. She would never sleep again. ----- Oren sat talking to the security guard. He was not hiding his face, which was unlike him. A car pulled up but Oren put his hand on the guard's shoulder. A shaggy Laura Grebes emerged and shakily stumbled across to the front door, a combination of drink and fear that was most amusing. It was a lonely factory, which was why it was ideal for a night shift. The guard opened the door for her and she stumbled in. Oren smiled quietly, only a hint of his teeth showing. He took her hand and lead her silently towards the back. “I called you here to show you the night shift.” Laura's eyes widened, some of the terror replaced with curiosity. The legendary non-existent night shift. Her jaw dropped as they stepped out onto a walkway above the factory. The stench was awful, but the smell was overpowered by the strange shapes working the lines. Wings, tails, horns. It was like a fairy tale, or a horror story. “You.. I don't understand.” “Much of what they make is sold back to their kind, and make no mistake, many of the ingredients would not pass the laws in any country.” “Then how can you... no, you don't care do you? Not really.” “Contrary, if not for this factory they would all be out there. Killing. Getting killed. Getting people in the crossfire. There is a lot less damage with them here. Plus, what I sell means they don't have to get it ‘elsewhere’.” “Oh.” She was able to concentrate. She didn't understand as much as she wanted, but she held on to her curiosity. It kept her from the abyss of fear beneath her. It was there, clawing at her sanity, demanding that she hold her head and scream and cry and lash out. When he'd shown her everything Oren let her go with a sample of the sleeping potion. He was still so wise, she was too excited to sleep, and when that faded, she would be too petrified. Oren watched her go. He was impressed. He'd half expected to need hypnosis to calm her, but she'd pulled through remarkably. He'd chosen well. He cracked open a packet of Soylent and waited for the next visitor. “Raw human my dear fellow?” “You know I don't touch that stuff.” the guard said with a shudder. Lucy showed up in her sporty little vehicle. She had taken it a lot better than Laura. She spent a few minutes touching up. It was her way of psyching herself. She shut the door a bit harder than intended, took a deep breath, and quickly strode over to the door. “Good evening Miss Norton.” She took a deep breath. “Good evening sexy.” She wasn't really interested in hunting, she had just been trained so much that it gave her confidence. It didn't come out quite right, but it did eke a little more spine into her. She could already see the guard drooling. The tour was very matter-of fact to her. She hid her emotions, it was probably all a bit too much for her, she would deal with it when she got home. “I am a bit disappointed.” “How so Miz Norton?” “All this time I thought you were some psychological guru, but you're just a mind reader, aren't you?” “Read minds for long enough and body-language becomes second nature honey.” “I suppose.” she sighed “Don't be too disappointed, it won't matter for much longer.” “So what now?” “Now you go home, get paranoid, hang crosses and garlic everywhere, get some sleep, and I'll see you in Horns at noon tomorrow.” And so it was, although mainly because being paranoid made her feel a bit better, if not a bit stupid. ***I kinda wanted this to have a bit more to it, but oh well. Ref 114-
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 10, 2012 16:16:00 GMT -5
Part LXXXII They couldn't shake the feeling that there had been a bloody massacre in the room, but there was no evidence. Of course, Oren would have taken care of that. The four of them sat at a round table. There was a rectangular one, but it had been moved to the side to be used as a drinks tray. They each had their favourite drink in front of them. There was one unknown at the table. Etna Eichhorn had apparently, only been invited for coffee. Who had a favourite drink of milky coffee? She seemed almost oblivious of them. She was known for a small food factory near the edge of the city. Not much was known other than its strange offerings of coffee, dairy and German specialities. She kept to herself for the most part. Lucy and Laura were straining at conversations. Zeke seemed to be the only one not acting up. Oren arrived a minute late. Which was the customary time allowed for people to get their things in order. He was wearing his teeth as his cloak swept behind him into the room. “So, without further ado, to business, that is, as soon as the alp finishes her coffee.” They waited a few seconds while Etna sadly chugged the last of the beverage she'd been savouring. “There is no need for guises here, you can drop the face if you want.” he said to Etna. “Thank, but I am this used to.” came the reply. “By the way, what happened here?” asked Laura. “I had a little, er, disagreement with the management.” “That would be the management that disappeared a few days ago? I didn't realise they'd gone that far?” “They hadn't, I just took personal offence, nevertheless, that is part of the reason I am doing this. I am, like any immortal, getting bored of human society. If you're gonna backstab someone, at least be like a demon and use an obsidian knife. So I am handing most of my assets over. I am at the point now where human money is of little value to me.” “Master, I'm not ready yet.” “Actually Zeke, you are a better skill choice than anyone in Kellwood. It will be a steep learning curve, but you already know the basics. And you have morals to boot.” “Aha I knew there was something serious between you two.” chimed Lucy. “Look, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I can't work with you.” said Laura sadly. “My dear Laura, let me explain. I am handing over my investments, not renting them out. You don't ever have to see me again.” Laura tried to hold back the tears of relief but gradually broke down into tears. Lucy put her arm around her and the table waited for a minute. “Anyway, I never said you had a choice in the matter. Forgive us Etna, I've been very harsh on my students, and Laura's had it the worst.” “Dis fine, can I more coffee get?” “When we're done here dear, in a few minutes.” “So what this is about is this: For the second time, I have just given Kellwood a clean slate.” Lucy's jaw dropped, suddenly she understood Laura, no wonder the girl was having such a hard time. “But already a new generation of corruption and greed is eyeing out the power void. The villain Cairns has been found out and it is now safe to savage the town again. The only way to stop it is to give a substantial amount of influence to honest people who will work continuously towards keeping the upper class in line. To that effect you are all here. Blast I sound like a businessman!” “Be aware that much corruption still exists among the remainder, only those who had built their empire on blood were taken, and even then, I did not get all of them.” “Zeke, It's about time you got something for your effort. Look into my eyes. You are free of any hypnosis. You looked after mine even when the contract had expired. I give you my first factory, my most lucrative, Horns and the sewing shop. Eve would probably welcome a promotion and some extra help, but I never got around to it. You may tap the potential as you see fit. All I ask is that you keep the magic supplies flowing here, and the cabin's clothing as needed from Eve.” “The rest of you, I'm not going into detail, it's all in the folder. I am unlikely to interfere with the affairs of Kellwood, but be warned, if I do it is likely to be a lot less precise and subtle. So please try and keep things under control. I'll be in my office if there are any questions. Make sure you talk to the alp now or you will be waiting for the coffee to run out. Laura, you will need to see me.” Zeke dropped by to say thanks, Lucy could not stomach to see him for the moment and Etna sneaked out after she'd emptied the urn, the coffee tin, and the milk supply, in that order. Lucy did, however, wait outside while Laura went in. She was shaking a bit. Scared and timid, the last twenty four hours had worn her down. “Come closer little girl.” Reluctantly she stood before him. He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a silver necklace. The chain was thin, and the locket was set with a delicate pale agate. He slipped it over her neck and fastened the clasp. Zeke knows magic, Lucy can wrap people around her finger, and Etna is an alp. If you want to keep the monsters in their boardrooms you will need an edge. As she turned and left she realised that his lips had not been moving. She realised how much she had relied on him in spite of him being a monster. It was shameful, but the least she could do was make sure he didn't come back. And the only way to do that would be to keep those who put money before life in their place. Oren stayed for an hour reminiscing and then left through the main entrance. He felt a little sad as he left a part of him behind, but it would soon fade. He had neither the time, nor the inclination. It was best this way. ***The end? You should know me better than that. Let the eye-gouging goodiness continue! Ref 116-
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 14, 2012 16:19:15 GMT -5
Par LXXXIII It was an unusual case to say the least. The nautical museum had been broken into. There was no sign of entry. None of the alarms had been triggered, including the thermals. There was nothing on the cameras either. At one point the Triumphant exhibition's camera had captured bilge hooks vanishing and then re-appearing with a clatter on the deck a few minutes later. When they had investigated in the morning, they found two missing. This puzzled them, surely there were far more valuable treasures for such a skilled thief?
“..and there were so many, if I ever lose these I can always go back for more.” “Oh, so you've seriously taken to Charby's weapons, let me see. A little rusty, but I'm sure that will wear off soon enough.” “Thanks Hex, I know just how to wear them in. Hey Menu! Want a present?” “Hey, sure wha.. Get away you psycho, those aren't fair!” “Yahahahaha!” The chase would last until Menu got tired of playing along. He knew the vampire meant him no harm. Well, nothing permanent at least.
-----
It was a few days later that he was accosted on one of his customary walks. The blow would have normally glanced off with little effect but he went with it for a laugh. “Hell Mackie, I think you hit him a bit hard. He looks a goner.” “No way man, I know what I'm doing.” He was curious about what they were up to. It was meant to be a kidnapping, but that was all they knew. He saw the docks through their eyes and watched himself thrown into a container with a few others. They left and then there was the sound of sinking.
Laura Grebes smiled as she eyed the ransom note. Oren's lawyers had been very distraught. Rumours were that he had given his fortune away, and now the last possible remnant was being extorted out of him. Of course they wanted it for themselves – legal fees and all that. He was a ‘good customer’. “I'm sorry gentlemen, I have no idea. Now Mr Diggs, please escort these fine gentlemen outside. Be sure to take ‘extra care’.” “ ‘Right miss.” If only it could be permanent. Someone was in for a surprise.
The thoughts were all calm bar the one innocent. The rest presumed they were too important to be left to die. Ironically, these were the ones least likely to have their part of the ransom paid. Someone was watching from the docks. Ah, Lance, how nice of you to drop by. Want to share? Love to but I have other engagements. The sarcasm dripped off his mind.
Oren spoke quietly “Mrs Sanchez my dear, you may want to sleep through this next part. It's about to get ugly.” Thoughts behind them were: We'll have more air if we knock the spineless two. “I will face my fate awake.” She said bravely. “I assure you, you have nothing to fear, but if you stay awake, you will have plenty.” “I have seen things that would turn a warrior's stomach.” “As have we all, that's why we're here.” “This is some kind of game to you isn't it?” she shrieked, “We could all die!” Oren smiled calmly. Mrs Bouchet made her move “Sorry people, but that sappy talk is making me sick.” She stood up, her face sinister in the glow of the battery lamp. Any excuse Oren thought. “Before you do us in. I do have a suggestion.” He said turning to face them. They paused and looked at him. He grinned. “Sleep”. And they did. “What now?..” There was something off about Oren, he had gone deathly pale. He turned to face her. She screamed. She screamed a scream like she had never screamed before. “Now my dear, because you wouldn't sleep, you will watch me eat.” Oren danced over to his would be murderer. And then viciously sunk his teeth into the bloodstream. Mmm Mmm.. Bloood!
Mrs Sanchez had fortunately not had anything to eat. He could smell her fear over the blood. She sat in the corner petrified. She began to whimper as he pulled out a knife and began feasting on the flesh of his victim. “Wh-What did they do to deserve this?” she stuttered? Oren stopped eating and walked over to the shivering little creature. “You're the only one who hasn't murdered anyone.. how.. disappointing.” She sat there wide eyed, unable to avert her gaze, or even blink while he devoured the other three.
“Now my dear.” He said a few hours later. “It was time you were found, and I was found elsewhere.” Fearing the worst, she rushed him and put her hand over his blood-stained mouth. He smiled. He cast a glyph. His mouth was shut, but hers wasn't. She spoke it and put her hand to her mouth. She had been breathing in. She looked for Oren, but he was gone. A whiff of fresh air drifted across the dankness. ***We'll leave this one out of the web of darkness, just to stress Oren out. ;D ref 117-
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 17, 2012 15:46:42 GMT -5
Part LXXXIV Much to the relief of the police, one of the kidnapped hadn't been. It seemed Mr Redford had quietly snuck off on retreat. With the help of Mr Knight, in fact, exclusively with his deductive skills, their twelve hour investigation ended an hour later. The container was dredged up. Mrs Sanchez was bloody but alive, unfortunately, not the other four. She was weeping uncontrollably. She was about to say something, but looked at Oren. He smiled and calmly said “Take your time ma'am, your mind is probably a bit rattled from your ordeal.” It was strange, it was like the smile had more impact than his words. She was quizzed about the others. Not knowing what else to say, she confessed to eating them. Her lawyer would later plead temporary insanity and argue that she did not have enough blood on her, nor could have medically consumed that much matter. It was left a mystery, all that was known was that she was haunted by that night, and she suddenly became very religious. ----- It was that time of year. Oren heard a loud knocking. It was too late for visitors, but he let the semi-familiar gang in. Why they bothered dressing up he never quite got. Too much effort as far as he was concerned. At least they had fun. “Come on in brats.” A skeleton with fur sticking out of its costume growled at him. “Oh stop whining, you're going to get the lion's share of the leftovers anyway.” Oren had stocked up on the good stuff. The house had started slowly due to it's spookiness. The first few had done it on a dare, but after they displayed their trophies a steady stream of brats came greedily knocking. Of course it wasn't that simple. They had to go through a dark maze, and what they got depended on how far they got. Strangely it always took a few minutes. It was hard to keep track of time in the dark. “How'd you do?” “Very well sire.” Oren said opening the fridge. “A ‘magic snake talisman’ for the maze, and a healing spell when it was removed and they hardly noticed.” “Wow, that's a lot of tomato juice.” I was quite the experience, it left them all a little light headed, but their mums all assumed it was sugar. “The snakes hold enough for a capri-sun. Fancy a healthy drink young man?” “Don't mind if I do.” said the fanged little samurai, reaching for a warm pack. ----- Laura stared across the table at Mrs Sanchez. That she knew what Oren was did not help her, but, if Oren had spared her she could not be too corrupt. She was lying to herself, she knew it. She desperately needed company. Lucy was busy with her share, and she didn't want to risk befriending someone with low life expectancy. No. That wasn't it. As much as she hated to admit it, she did not want to keep company with backstabbers and murderers. It looks like the bane of her life had rubbed off on her. “The young Miss Grebes, I am honoured. Not many get to do business with you, even less are approached. To what do I owe this honour?” “You can call me Laura, as to why you are here, it's simple. I know what Oren is, in fact half of my fortune came from him.” Mrs Sanchez looked down. “Oh, it's not like that, he didn't even give me a choice. He was bored of the details, besides, as you can guess, he doesn't need money.” “I saw him kill them. He even ate them.” Laura sighed “So he does that too? I'd hoped it was a trick. He likes that type of magic too you know.” “Please, remembering hurts, please can I go now.” “Whenever you want, come back the same.” “So just because I know this you trust me? Does he protect you somehow.” Laura laughed sadly “No, no he certainly doesn't do that, but I know one thing. He has very high standards. If you were the sort to stab me in the back you wouldn't be here.” “Oh? So that wasn't all just talk?” Laura stared at the table as the colours greyed. A tear caressed her cheek. “My parents...” She couldn't finish. “It's all right” said Mrs Sanchez. She had crossed the room and put her arm around Laura. They sat there for a few minutes. Then they both left together. ***Sappy story time.. ref 118=
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 27, 2012 18:30:14 GMT -5
Part LXXXV She had prepared for this. A tape was recording everything and a tazer in her purse could be reached faster than Mrs Minnows could do anything. She was ashamed, but she had begun to like hostile takeovers. No doubt Mrs Minnows had planned this to be the goodbye party for her rival. Her lawyers would be hard pressed to deny the evidence of assault and that would be one more wormed apple behind bars. She rounded the corner of ‘Le patisserie de France’ into the deliveries alley. Mrs Minnows would be unable to make the appointment. That she was alive was, technically, true, but she was looking at red-eyed Oren. “Just what do you think you're doing?” Laura spoke dangerously. “What's wrong with a little brainwashing? You didn't expect me to give up completely did you?” She felt his compassion, his admiration, heard his lies. She felt the hunger, it was only starting, but it overpowered her and flooded through her like a fire, burning her soul. She felt like an animal, she would have eaten anything at that point, and yet still, he tried to hide it from her, to spare her. “That doesn't work on me!” she yelled clutching the talisman he'd given her. “Please, leave Laura, I don't want you to see this.” Her gaze steadied. She was going nowhere. Mrs Minnows was screaming inside, trying desperately to get out, but her body wouldn't respond. She'd been good, why was this happening. Laura suppressed the urge to vomit. She'd done her homework. So this is what it had been like for her parents. Actually there was a bit more terror. What? Aaah, get out of my head child, I don't want to hurt you. No, no, I am staying. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I am going to watch every last sordid morbid detail until I understand what you are. It was raging now, the victim consuming his consciousness. He opened his jaw and bit. The bliss that flowed had no equal. She understood. She watched as her mesmerised mentor drew the last of the life, but it didn't stop there. He pulled out and knife and, to her horror, began to eat. She watched. How ironic that the vampire would be consumed and mesmerised himself. Slowly his thoughts started to respond to hers. She waited for the grim meal to end. Oren stood up, cast some magic, which she didn't quite follow, and dusted himself off. He was about to leave when they heard the police approaching. Oren could vanish, but Laura would be blamed. He hastily assembled a portal, grabbed her and stepped through. He deactivated it, it would be pointless evidence. Laura felt the dust of a room not used for years. Oren released a light orb or some sort that flooded the room with a pale light. They followed barely visible footprints to a wall which Oren used magic to cut away and replace behind them. This was his inner sanctum, she could hear it. The dusty room was used for emergencies. She gasped as she read of the last time it was used. What had they done to him? She grabbed him by the collar. “It was here, wasn't it?” “Laura, please, you do not want to follow this road.” The cold terror had settled to indifference, but now it was filled with anger, resentment and determination, “I don't care any more, I must know.” Oren sighed, “I am regretting giving that thing to you.” She followed him through the dark to a huge chamber. Every passage, every door, she understood what they were mostly traps. What an isolated, tortured soul. Oren broke out in laughter. “No, my dear, you mis-read me.” He looked into her eyes and told her the true reason why he left the world of mortals. It was rather petty by comparison, but he was no victim. She hugged herself to try and comfort the thought away. She looked around the room. Flashes of the past. A pack of orbs ascended from Oren and filled the room with their light. Oren scribed two runes in the floor. “Well my dear?” he stretched out a hand. Laura swallowed hard and stepped onto one. The events of that night washed over her like a flood, but she did not cry. The thoughts of the victims steadied her, hardened her heart. They all thought themselves royalty, like some divine force made them untouchable. She saw Oren's disgust at their abuse of power, how he saw them as peasants. She could not resist the thought and succumbed to it. A wisp of sorrow fluttered on a heartbeat when it came her parents turn, but it passed quickly. She knew that they deserved it. She'd double and triple checked everything. She'd lied to herself for years, but she'd found no evidence to the contrary. Or even a good hint. “You were wrong about me. I have no regrets. Now take me home.” *** Confused? You should be Sorry for the slow update, that is, if anyone is actually reading this crap, hehe. Ref 120-
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Post by nightreflection on Jan 31, 2012 17:41:50 GMT -5
Part LXXXVI The door knocked loudly. He wasn't accustomed to visitors, nevertheless, he smoothly stood up and strode over. He reached the door as it politely reminded him. He opened the door, it was the young miss Grebes. It was not good to build bridges between him and Oren. May I come in?” “That would depend on what you want. Please be aware that I will not be bribed or threatened in any way, so please do not waste your time doing so.” He would rather die than be used, this is true. It was why he still tried to distance himself from what he was. “I have no ill will Mr Knight, please, it is important.” “That's what they all say.” he said disappointingly and ushered her in. She chose the closer chair opposite him. He left out a few chairs, it told him about his visitors. She was looking to confront him with something, but she felt there was something personal about it. “So, Miss Grebes, what is this about? I should advise you that I prefer not to deal with Mr Redford's businesses or their offshoots, so it is unlikely you will secure my services.” “I know they've got you on a leash Lance, please, let me help.” “Miss Grebes, if that is what this is about you are sorely mistaken. You aren't the first to accuse me of being in someone's pocket. You would be the first if you are correct.” “I know what Oren really is.” “You would also not be the first to accuse the man of being some crook, mob boss, or even mythical being on occasion. The man is corrupt, that's sure, which is why I do not deal with him ma'am.” “I was in his castle. See this? I read his mind. I know you were there. What did they do to you? Threaten your family? Torture? I want to help, I promise, I won't tell.” Lance began to cry softly. Laura sat in awkward silence. She did not know how to respond. “I'm sorry,” he sniffed, “it's too late.” She was looking at orange eyes. Her own widened. “No.” she said softly, “not you too. I'm... sorry for bringing it up.” She daren't put her arm around him. She stood up, lifted his chin and said “You need anything, anything you hear?” She left. The door clicked quietly behind her. She was a bit puzzled by his behaviour. She couldn't imagine a vampire regretting it. But then, what did she know? ----- Oren returned to the home on the edge of the city. He was at his leisure these days and so his hours weren't consistent. He was thus very surprised to find an overcoat watching the front door. Must be very patient he thought. As he silently approached the figure raised its head, stood, and the familiar face of Mr Shetley emerged from under the hat. “Well Mr Shetley, is this a social visit, or have you finally taken leave of your senses?” “You pulled a real fast one on us. We're not sure how your team organised that ‘dinner’ last week, but it got our attention big time. The boss wants the culprits found. Anyway, I was hoping you'd be involved, but I get here and what do I hear? I hear you've dumped all your money and you're living it lean. You know, I don't get you?” “Do come in Mr Shetley. You never will.” They sat down. “My sire has lived centuries. He cares neither for money nor any worldly thing. It is starting to rub off on me.” “So you're going to live off hospital food?” “Oh no, but I am always selective about my victims.” His eyes narrowed. “Young and healthy then?” “If I'm going to slaughter, it may as well be the bastards in the herd.” “Hmph, I would kill you right where you sit, but there is obviously more to this than you're letting on. Don't worry, I will get to the bottom of it.” Oren smiled a good-natured smile “Bon-voyage Mr Shetley, you would be the first. Only one has ever unravelled my story, and he is unlikely to help you.” “Bon-voyage?” “For most people it's a life's work.” He left the hunter downstairs. Portals he mused. Despite his dislike of himself, Lance had taken to Hex's lessons and had specialised in them. He used them to explore ancient ruins. It was nice to see him get some benefit out of his condition. Oren really felt sorry, even if he didn't understand. He stepped through the portal. Something was off. ***Maybe I should have had Oren bite him. Who knows? Nah, he probably tastes like booze and cigars! Ref 121-
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Post by nightreflection on Feb 4, 2012 19:07:49 GMT -5
Page LXXXVII He could feel if someone was in his castle. Usually it was sire. He would recognise that, there was someone else, someone... familiar. Something was.. wrong. As he rushed through the hallways he barely heard a faint scream carried on the dead wind. He raced towards the main chamber. Another, filled with despair. It was Zeke. Tears filled his eyes as he pushed on. He broke into the organ chamber. The door to the blood room was open. A scream penetrated the darkness. Oh please sire, no, he's been so good to us. He moused into the room. It was not a good idea to disturb sire. Zeke had been so loyal, why sire, why? Zeke lay in a familiar circle. The sense of dread was replaced by tears of joy. He had not sensed sire because Charby was not himself. He never was when he did this. He had begged sire years ago, he had thought it completely forgotten. The look in Zeke's eyes was one of grim realisation and betrayal. Charby liked surprises, although Oren had to admit, even though he did it too, it was a rather cruel practice in this instance. He hid from view behind Charby and sealed the room with primal magic. No-one would find them, but this would be interrupted over his dead body. Oren watched as the hours passed. Finally a drained Charby sank his teeth into Zeke's heart. Zeke's last living scream echoed in the halls. It was done now but for the waiting. Charby stood up shakily. It always took a lot out of him. “I suppose you're mad at me for stealing your minion.” Oren threw his arms around Charby. “Sire, I couldn't be happier. I just wanted him to have something for his work. I suppose it was a bit arrogant, but he's never done a thing against us, even after we removed the hypnotism and he's worked so hard.” “That, and he can make more chicken now.” Charby grinned. “I don't want too many elites, but Zeke is good at magic, and he has tabs on humanity now that you've retired. I need at least a few to keep the hounds at bay.” Zeke awoke with a start. They always did that thought Charby. He looked at Charby. “I had the dangdest dream..” Charby was grinning “Uh, no, please..” He reached behind him and pulled out... a mirror. Zeke stared at it and laughed a gentle laugh of joy, relief, and madness. They trapsed over to the kitchen where Oren had prepared his favourite for his first meal – A lobster dish with a few quirks. Zeke picked up vampire magic very quickly. He'd been studying normal magic for some time now, so it wasn't much of a challenge. Oren left to find a proper meal – he hadn't had time to prepare. Oren tracked them down. Zeke would not have wanted the youth spell, he liked being scary, so he had ended up with ram horns and raven wings. He was showing them off now. Oren had asked him to be discreet, but his new master wasn't quite as concerned. Zeke's goth friends were in awe. They were in their early twenties now, a far cry from the timid little school leavers they were when Zeke first started working. Charby was having a good laugh out of the goings on. “Aww, you've come to spoil the fun, haven't you?” “Oh no my dear brother, I've come to start it.” Oren grinned maliciously. Zeke had a social life, Oren had often forgotten. He would make a good counterpoint to Oren's obsession with things over people. It restored much of the confidence Oren had lost since turning Lance and losing his mind to Quixoto. They were now four. The world wasn't as empty a place, and the fight wasn't so hard. ***Zeke is... well, you'll see. ref 122-
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Post by nightreflection on Feb 7, 2012 15:56:15 GMT -5
Part LXXXVIII The ground was muddy and smelt stale. It tasted worse. His blood splattered infront of him. A good bash to the ole' noggin, no, a gun wound. He hadn't heard it so it must have been close. Of course he'd known this day would come. Always at the back of his mind. No matter how much you thought you knew, deep down you knew poking your nose in other people's business, especially when there was murder involved, would eventually lead to this. Lance let his murderer drag his corpse off. You're too late, Lance thought bitterly. His murderer didn't notice the head was back, hidden in the shadows of the bushes. He sank into the murky waters of a river. It would all be too late by the time they found him. Jensen would be long gone with the money. He had failed. He didn't know what to do, he just lay there as a few rocks sploshed onto him. His lungs began to burn.
He wanted so much to stand up. To take his revenge on his killer. But that would be cheating. The thought chilled him to his core. He'd always done things right, never cheated, never lied.
Oren was right. He was such a whiner. He wasn't a victim. Here he was with the power to do practically anything he wanted, and he was going to let some murderer get away scot free. Just over principle. What an idiot. He waited until Jensen was out of earshot. He could hear his footsteps scuffing the dirt over the blood stains and drag marks. When it was clear he stood up, went to his room and cleaned up.
He arranged a meeting the next day and explained the mystery. “But I.. you...” “But what Mr Beryl?” The bewilderment on Jensen's face was comical. Who had he killed? What would the police say? It didn't matter, and pretty soon, neither would Jensen. Jensen was arrested and they all lived happily ever after. Except Jensen, who had an ‘accident’ on the way to police headquarters. He was a monster, it was about time he became a bit more accepting of it. Aside from the need for blood, he could still do a lot of good. Oren had proved that, even with warm meals, although Lance thought he may just stick to cold for the most part. He didn't fancy wholesale slaughter.
Even sire, though a lot less picky, killed mostly out of hunger, and even then, with Oren and the invention of the straw, there were rarely innocent fatalities. Perhaps in this day and age it was possible for even monsters to be productive members of society. But for now there was the taste of blood. Mmmmmmm...
-----
They made a racket as they hacked and slashed their way through the forest. Waves of critters fled from the noise. “Damn varmint stealin’ ma pride ‘n joy.” Complained warden Judders. “Can't we take a break now boss. My arm is killin’ me. Sides, we mighta’ dun gone clear past it in this here mess.” “Now yew wouldn't be second-guessing yer boss would ya Redaface?” he said slapping the back of his head. “Sir sorry sir!” “Well, would ye look at that.” There was a short break in the trees and a figure sat pondering on the other side of the clearing. It was wearing the warden's cap. One-of-a-kind captain's hat. It showed him off as the accomplished... whatever it was that he did. “Well, well, what do we have here. Now hand over the hat boy. It's been fun, but it's time to give Judders what's his.” There was no reactoin. “I's warning ya, I'm not playin. No-one will see out here.” He took careful aim with the rifle. “That's right, you show him sir.” One clean shot and the hat and head vanished. “Ehh yeww oughtta have listened ta me boy. Not that it woulda helped ya much.” He laughed through his nose. “Nosy knowitalls come-a-waltzin” inna our forest and stealin' our stuff.” He stopped.
The hat was back, and so was the head. “Ha! A dummy, I should'a known. Come on boys, it looks like they're long gone.”
The head slowly turned. “Well helloo there gentlemen, it seems you are a bit lost.” “What in God's name!” Amber eyes and red hair stared at him. Ram's horns framed the face and something black obscured the background in the gloom. “Oh, God isn't taking calls right now, but we'll help ya!” A wide grin revealed a set of evil fangs. “Help me you slackers.” but they were running before him. Red eyes stepped out from behind a tree. “Now now, just where do you think you're going with our dinner?” They turned to the last possible direction but a similar child emerged. “Tell God we said “Hi”.” They lunged. Zeke went for the ranger. He was begging to die when he did in five minutes. “What? It's not like he didn't deserve it?” Zeke happily sunk his teeth in. The bliss that followed could not be conveyed with words. He didn't flinch at devouring his prey. Oren had been right. It was much more fun this way. *** I thought it was time to get ol' mopey moving a little. Ref 123-
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Post by nightreflection on Feb 12, 2012 4:10:05 GMT -5
Part LXXXIX He looked at the shrouded figures in the bleak rain. Rain was good, it would keep the streets clear. Oren opened the pleasantries “I'm so glad you all came.” “This had better be important. My jacket is soaked.” Zerlocke was not happy. “Ohhh, I bet he's got a party planned. You'll love his parties.” chimed Charby. “I'm feeling miserable, party or not, can we please get this over with.” moaned Rosemary. “Party? I'm looking forward to it – haven't been to one yet.” said Zeke “Everyone calm down, it's just a bit of fun, not a proper party. There isn't even any food.” “Awww.., but I skipped dinner.” Claire complained. “Well, I'm guessing we pollute them?” Lance completed the gang. “No, we stomp e'm.” said Oren “But that would cause..” Lance started “Millions in damages, yes. This is Sammy we're talking about, they're lucky their workers are alive. You did make sure the cost is still with the bigshots?” “Yes, although I had hoped for a slightly more subtle approach.” “Enough chatter, let's get big and stomp something.” The seven elites transformed into super-size and wrecked the houses. Everything was empty, but almost complete. The cost would be huge, developers would be on the streets in a few days. He laughed as he stuck a claw through a roof. The rain would mask the sound and deter investigation. He could see them now, trying to explain what happened to the police, to the town council. He even knew who would be scapegoated. Either way, it would leave them considerably out of pocket, and with a foul taste in their mouth. He grinned menacingly as he tore a splintering door out of the wall and then threw his weight against it. Between the seven of them it only took a few minutes to flatten the fourteen dozen houses. He would bribe Azelea with an expensive bunch of her favourites. It would make the grass grow back a bit faster. He would have used Crispo, but he was getting far too good, and people would question where the overnight forest came from. Oren had offered to take everyone for dinner but Lance was already sitting, looking, lost in thought, at the devastation. These had been homes. Desperate couples had been eyeing them for years from the foundations to the roof beams. Their hope at a life denied them by the tight leash of Kellwood development policies. So many would have their hopes dashed. Sure, he'd kept most of the people shielded by blocking off-plan purchasing, but, it was so much loss. And for what? It wasn't like king Samrick didn't have plenty to spare. “Come on Oren, that was fun, don't be so miserable.” “Yes sire, but Lance has gone off the deep end again. I suppose if you want genius you have to pay. Give me a minute.” “What is it now Lance?” A ray of hope flickered across his face. Oren always had answers. “I dedicated my life to upholding the law, I wouldn't even pick a loose sweet of a shelf. Now I find myself on the wrong end of wanton destruction.” Oren smiled and tilted his head. Lance was so naïve at times. He put his hand on Lance's shoulder “Lance. Every child must grow up some day. What, praytell, is the purpose of these laws?” “To protect people.” came the textbook answer. “And what, of all of your previous actions, did not serve to this end?” “But the death sentence was abolished.” “You must learn to question, you are no longer a mortal. One of the key reasons for its abolishment was that it was non-refundable, if they made a mistake, it was too late. We can read minds, what are the odds of us making a mistake?” Lance looked up with a relieved smile. “Not that any of that applies to you. You're not human. But to ease your conscience, even sire has, in these last few years, been a lot less ruthless. We are becoming part of the melting pot. Who knows, one day we may be part of society. Although not if we have anything to say about it. As for the investors, they deliberately twisted the law to their wiles. They bribed officials and abused town planning law against its purpose. That is what they are being punished for. Think of it as a Greenpeace manoeuvre. Besides, did you really want Sammy to deal with it ‘His way'? Now come, I feel like a good meal, La Luna beckons and I'll pay before anyone complains.” Strange, Oren mused, he could unravel people, motives and mystery, but Lance struggled to let go of the good nature of mankind. Despite seeing their hearts, he couldn't give up on it. He was trying, but it was taking it's time. At least he was into blood now, it would help. Unlike years ago when he first drew it. ***Not much happening in this one. Sorry I get slow days too. Ref 124-
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