Snippet #2191314

Malice Whateley

Malice shook her head. “I didn’t mind the two wars, first was definitely more complicated; lots of death, far too many poor tactics. By the second however they finally seemed to pull their fingers out and just get on with it as opposed to just go over the trench get shot a few times, go back to the trench, lick your wounds and then repeat.” She took a drag of her own cigarette. “Getting shot with a machine gun is not much fun I can assure you.” She smiled to herself. “However I did scare the shit out of the man shooting when I got back up.”

“I wouldn’t have said remember them, It’d take me days to list the people I’ve killed in my life and that would just be through battle, never mind the others.” She blew a plume of smoke from her nose thinking on her next words and trying to remember the name of the last person she killed. “No it’s definitely not a worthwhile venture. A gun isn’t as personal as a sword but you can still have that little moment if your close enough. I personally never took much of a fancy to many of them but I obviously have some in my collection.” She pulled back her coat slightly to reveal the two Berettas in her belt as well as the many other smaller weapons she carried. “Couldn’t break the habit of eleven lifetimes now, could I?” She smiled darkly.

"I was hoping to catch her inside. Fire like that won't kill a vampire but it'll hurt like Hell. There's nothing overkill about that."

Malice couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh! I thought you just went mad! Now that really is good! Definitely the best break-up story I’ve ever heard.” Malice was always a fan of the more violent stories, eight hundred years spent as a soldier tended to push you that way, it was her torture that made her despise mortals and just want to cause pain. “Did she escape? Or did she burn with it?” she asked intrigued.

"Oh truly, you're right. Truly, you're the best thing since sliced bread!"

Malice laughed with him. ‘How unusual that he can slip between all of these emotions, either he’s more messed up then I originally thought or he’s less of an emotional sap then what he seems.’ Perhaps there was still more she could learn about this man and his many emotions.

“To be fair Erasmus it’s been a bloody long time since anyone was talking about Joan, she is literally history now. An uncertain history at that, from what I know I’m the only person in the entire planet who knows what she was actually like.” She retorted “And stop smiling like a gimp, my sex life is none of your concern.” She winked at him. “Oh she was definitely not well-behaved.” Malice rolled her head back, “Bad doesn’t cover it.” She laughed again, it still hung heavy with her naturally cold voice but much there was a hint of mirth within it. “Oh she wasn’t actually that boyish, quite womanly actually, I think she’s been bastardised over the years, the French king was an ass and obviously the English had a few things to cover up so gave as bad a description of her as possible. Plus everyone looks pretty androgynous in plate armour.

Malice closed her eyes; she could still picture the young French maiden. “She was actually quite beautiful, long brown hair. She used to keep it tied to stop it getting caught in the armour, which is probably where the short hair came from.” Malice smiled took another drag. “Though now she’s gone.” She added, her voice not betraying any kind of emotion.

She sat forward and stubbed her own cigarette in the ash tray, noting the little smile Erasmus was giving her. “Please stop looking at me like that. It’s not THAT outlandish for me to have emotions, I just prefer to ignore them, they get in the way in my lifestyle.” She took the packet of cigarettes from Erasmus once he’d drawn a second and took another for herself.

Pity you didn't have a mentor to begin with though.

“From what I’ve learnt of him since he was a wanker any way. Loved himself a bit too much.” She answered. “Though I narrowly avoided staking myself a few times, more luck then skill I think. A few times of mistaken identity helped too, odd when you think people suddenly become ok with killing their neighbours when they think that they’ve suddenly become a vampire without telling anyone. Who says the modern world is worse eh?” She laughed cruelly to herself, lighting her cigarette.

“No the man who mentored me was by far a better choice; he was older and knew his way around. He taught me how to kill and fight in more ways than one.” She smiled baring her fangs playfully at Erasmus.

Malice’s tone changed as he mentioned her capture, her entire demeanour changing almost pulling back in on itself and a great burning hatred forcing itself out in its place. “I was imprisoned from 1943 until 2011. I had been fighting against the Nazis from the inside for some time to aid the Allied standing when I was found out, ambushed and captured. They took me to a firing range to be made an example of. When they realised I wasn’t dead they tried again, after the second failure they realised I was worth keeping.”

She took a deep drag of her cigarette before speaking again. “They locked me away and tortured me for me the remainder of the war, starving me of blood and running tests to see what happens when certain things are used against vampires.” Malice’s eyes were still betrayed no emotion but it was obvious the thoughts were running through her head, fuelling her hate. “When the war was over the Americans took over what was left of the German experiments. I had hoped for freedom and at first it seemed they would until someone found my details.”

“They took everything from me, including my name. Projekt Bosheit they called me. Project Malice it translates too.” Malice looked up at Erasmus, a slight smile on her face. “The American’s continued to experiment on me until one of the men who brought my ration got to close, I successfully grabbed hold of him and killed him, with the first blood in decades I broke free. The entire complex was sent into lockdown. I killed every single one of them.” Her dark smile was back and her eyes changed colour as the story continued. “Now I’m hunting down the higher-uppers who knew about my existence and removing the remaining Germans. I will get revenge and I will tear every single one of them limb from limb.” Malice stood up forcefully, growling the last part of her story in anger, her fist clenched tight enough to draw blood once again.

After a moment she managed to calm herself down enough to sit back down again but she was still wrapped in an air of a dark cold. “You only get one question Ermo.” She answered eventually. “It’s my turn now.” She looked back up at him taking another drag of her cigarette. “You mentioned family, what of them?”



((OOC: Who was he kidding? Malice was a sociopath even by vampiric standards! I love this quote! xD ))