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This spark of Black that I seem to love

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Klack, klack

 

Slow, measured steps walked down the dim corridor, each step accompanied by the sound of low heels on cheap and easily maintained laminate flooring.

 

Klack, klack

 

In the early hours of the morning, this wing of their basement was often filled with the last stragglers of the night shift and the quiet rustling of papers. But now the unhurried steps were the only sound around. The whole wing was silent and abandoned and had been since the night before. No one, not a single cursed soul had dared to even come close, once the owner of these rooms (who owned this building, owned this group, this city and their very own lifes too) had buried himself in his current experiment deep enough that he has not left for days, forgoing sleep - and more importantly, food.

When he had thrown the sacrificial moron of the week, together with the dinner flask he was carrying, through the wall for “contaminating the samples", all of the other spineless rats had abandoned the ship and hastily fled - least the next moron would get their neck broken before getting thrown out like last weeks garbage. Cowardly, but smart of them, he recognized.

 

Klack, klack

 

The man sneered in the darkness. At least one of the rats had enough brain cells left in her young mind to alert him to the brewing situation, when he had returned to the coven. 

Which brought him down here, shortly before the sun would rise. Instead of his own nice and luxurious bed which would have had, hopefully, one or two nice little playthings waiting for him. He would definitely miss out on that bit of pleasurable fun, he noted almost absentmindedly.

 

Klack, klack

 

But then again, he would soon pull a predators attention onto himself and that was a different kind of pleasure altogether. The tip of his tongue wet his lower lip in anticipation and his measured stride came to a halt.

He had arrived at his destination.

 

A practiced swipe of a key card, a casual swish over the biometric reader and the door opened for him like a welcoming lover. Confidently, he took a few steps into the dark rooms and left the door open behind himself, the dim lights of the corridor barely illuminating the entrance and leaving the rest in even darker shadows.

 

"Saa…. Faasan, did you fall asleep in the lab again?"

 

Silence, and then a sleepy grumble "...go away..." 

 

"No can do ~" replied the tall dark haired man in an annoyingly lilting voice. "You've been cooped up in here for over a week already. Anymore and you might get hangry ..." 

A sliver of light from the open door flickered over the mans handsome face, lighting up his truly shit-eating grin. 

"You’ll end up sucking some hapless baby vamps dry again. And then get annoyed at the mess. Again. We can't have that, can we? Ne, Faasan~?" 

 

His only answer was a low, displeased growl and the minute flash of red in the dark. But his grin stayed firm, even when his voice took on a more inciting tone.

 

"See, see? You're already so irritable. Time for a nice drink and a long, relaxing sleep wouldn't you say? Just leave it to me, I'll even close up the experiments for you. Faasan can just come out and rest comfortably for a while..."

 

The threatening growl sounded again - right behind him this time and Belial didn't even try to disguise the full body shudder that ran down his spine at feeling the slightest disturbance of air close to his back.

"Hmmm....or are you in the mood for something else? I'll gladly assist you with that too~ If you get my d..."

 

"Be silent."  

 

It was the only thing spoken and this time, he heeded the implied threat in the hoarse command. His mouth snapped shut, though still stretched in a grin. He slowly tilted his head back, exposing the long white line of his throat in a gesture that - on most others - would have been submission. But with him, the bared throat carried an unmistakable challenge.

 

And in answer the growl abruptly cut off. He couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t feel so much as a hint of displaced air. Suddenly a shadow flickered in the corner of his eye and without any warning, a figure seemed to melt from the darkness directly in front of him. In the barely visible light of the door, a white lab coat snapped around as if caught by an invisible breeze and a head of pale hair could be guessed at, when the figure took one step, before coming to a halt in front of him.

But for all the pale colours the man wore, it was the bloody crimson of his eyes that gleamed, visible even in the dingy shadows of the room. A bright, unnatural pair of red eyes, shining from within, cut through both darkness and light and pierced through him with impatience. 

He knew that gaze, usually so full with an unquenchable and inhumane curiosity. As if he was merely one little rat in this laboratory, albeit one that performed better tricks than the others and thus merited a sliver more of attention. He would learn any trick, do any atrocity to keep that attention on himself just one second longer.

 

A shuddering breath escaped him before he licked his suddenly dry lips. Even with all his powers, his superior senses and experience, he hadn’t been able to detect that movement at all. It send another shiver of excitement through him and he let it, standing just the tiniest bit straighter with his hands linked behind his back, all of his attention on the short, pale haired man in front of him. From under half-lidded eyelids he observed, still obedient without a word.

 

The cold crimson gaze meanwhile flickered up and down his body before coming to rest on his bared throat.

Still, he breathed slowly and waited. In and out, went the air from his lungs. In and out again in slow measured breaths.

 

A disparaging snort cut through the silence and the pale figure took another step and closed what little distance remained between them.

 

“Spare me your disgraceful attempts at manipulation. You are as transparent and needy as a freshly bitten fledgling.”

 

Elegant hands rose and with a decisive snap pulled off the surgical gloves, first from the right, then from the left hand. The pale man continued to speak while equally pale fingers began to trace a featherlight line along his jaw.

He didn’t even attempt to repress the appreciative shiver at the touch of those long, beautiful and cold fingers on his skin.

Those beautiful pale hands, tipped with dark and deadly, claw-like nails.

 

He wet his lips again, while his grin grew just a smidge wider. Still not saying a word, as he was ordered.

 

“Tch.”

 

The claw-like fingers slipped into his hair without a warning and pulled his head abruptly to the side, stretching his neck uncomfortably. 

 

“You made your point, mongrel.”

 

Despite his uncomfortable position, he gave a slight chuckle.

“Such a reasonable Master~Now, shall I bring a bottle of dinner to your room? Or would you prefer a more immediate...snack? What are your orders, dear Master of mine~?”

 

The shining red eyes narrowed in annoyance.

 

“Feeding in lab space is unhygienic and enhances the chance of contaminating valuable experiment samples.

And I thought my orders were clear. I ordered you to shut up Belial .”

 

And as if to illustrate his displeasure, Belial’s master raked the claws of his free hand down the slope of his exposed neck and further down, down, down. Until his previously fine designer button down shirt tore like cheap paper under them, leaving it hanging along one side and deep red lacerations all over his neck and chest. None deep enough to break the skin, but all with blood welling up just under them.

 

A masterful display of control, both of the pale man’s strength and bloodlust. As deep into the Frenzy as he must've been, with his eyes as brightly lit crimson as they currently were, any semblance of control was already impressive. 

But the sheer precision the pale Vampire had demonstrated was unheard of and unparalleled.

 

Truly, his master was one of a kind even among the Ancients. Belial could feel his own blood stir in response - both to the implied threat and the casual mastery. His heart beat just a bit faster in his excitement, pumping the precious blood just a tad stronger through his veins. Doubtlessly, exactly as his master had intended with that display. He had trouble containing his appreciative noises.

 

The clawed fingers slowly returned upwards, circling around his now exposed nipple once, and then again, in a careless gesture. If he hadn't known better Belial would've said it was nearly accidental. But he knew his master - every gesture, every word was intentional.

 

“I really should not reward your impertinence and make you bring me that bottle like a lowly servant.” 

 

In a near perfect contrast to the seemingly thoughtless caresses, his masters words held a considering, thoughtful tone. As if he was just thinking out loud, instead of balancing Belial's reward or punishment on a knife's edge.

 

Neck still pulled uncomfortably taut, Belial nearly vibrated with tension. When his master rose up onto the tips of his toes to caress the bared flesh of his throat, he gasped. When he whispered softly next to his ear, like a gentle lover might, his breathing grew shallow. The harsh grip in his hair was a remainder of the truth he knew all too well. That it was just a masterful performance, a carefully woven lie from a manipulator who still outstripped him so very easily.

Ah, but what a sweet, sweet lie it was...

 

“But why should I waste my time with that, when I created you to assist me. So instead, I will make use of your convenient self.”

 

The soft caresses halted. Then, sharp, sharp teeth buried themselves carelessly into the bend where neck met shoulder, piercing his skin and tearing open what pulsed beneath. Deceptively soft lips closed over the ripped flesh and sucked . Long and deep and all that red, red blood, already so close under his skin after Lucilius' claws raked over it, just flowed freely - over his naked shoulder and into that lovely, lovely mouth.

 

A guttural scream sounded through the abandoned rooms. Followed closely by long, shuddering moans echoing among the empty corridors.

 

He could feel his blood flow over his skin, thin streams escaping down his back and naked arm, running over his wrist and dripping from his fingers. The pale man seemingly did not care about the waste, instead he bit down again, harder this time, and tore the small wounds wider, wasting no time in chasing a trickle and instead opening up a river for himself. The deceptively soft lips closed tight around the wound and continued their greedy taking, one deep gulp after the other. Each time a new mouthful of blood welled up, it would be sucked into that lovely mouth without mercy and send a tingling wave of heat back. From his ravaged neck up into his clouded mind and down, down his quivering chest, his twitching length and trembling knees. Each time fresh blood was taken from him, the heat washed through his body anew, from his core to the tips of his toes.

Unbidden, his hands came up to clutch at the thin forearms. His mind was hazy, rolling in the pleasure of the bite, the pain of it, his whole body shuddering with it. He could feel himself growing sluggish, his fingers slowly getting colder and clumsier where he pawed at the ruthless arms holding him in place. And still, the heat was rolling through him, rising and rising with each wave, yet never cresting and pulling him under. 

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the gulping noises stopped, the soft lips let up. Instead, a warm and wet tongue danced around the torn flesh, caressing the edges and lapping over the deep bite marks, savouring every drop of blood he could get.

 

Belial felt weak, lightheaded and limp at the same time.

He would have gladly fallen onto his knees in prayer, before this creature, this master of creation and death. But deceiving slender hands held him up forcefully, uncaring for his wishes. He twitched weakly, just at the thought of being allowed to worship all that power and pale skin, too spent to do more than pant and but wanting more , always, always so hungry for this man, for more.

 

He was so out of it, he almost didn't register when Lucilius started to speak again. 

 

"I could suck you dry and kill you here and now...and you'd still love every second of that...wouldn't you...?"

 

He was released and finally sank down, his legs too weak to keep him standing under his own power, his body now cold and trembling. His lips were tinged blue, but still parted in a breathy laugh.

 

“Whatever you ask of me, my darling creator~ G-gotta say though... I'd love to stay alive. Just a little longer.....can...can’t leave you alone, after all."

 

His master huffed, and even he couldn’t tell if it was in amusement or derision, before he stalked past his kneeling form towards the still open door.

Just on the threshold he stopped and turned slightly, his slim frame seemingly forming a halo in the light, before he vanished out of Belial's sight.


“I expect you to be better fed for tomorrow evening.”

 

Belial’s breathless laugher followed the klack, klack of Lucilius' steps.

 

Truly, there was no greater pleasure than baiting this ancient predator.