The brunette, the redhead, or the blonde? It was hard to pick because they all looked so beautiful and smelled so delicious. He could be a glutton and take them all home. His friends would love that he brought home snacks. He would save the very best for Helena. But which would she prefer more? The one that scares easy? The brave one that would fight back? Or the one that tasted the best? Maybe she'd play a game. Have him let them take off into the woods so they could all play cat and mouse. Helena loved to play cat and mouse.
He finally decided that he might try to woo them all. And why not? It would be far too easy considering how American women would swoon at small things. Such as the slightest hint of a foreign accent. British, Irish, Scottish, and heavy Hispanic seemed to be the newest trends. He had witnessed swarms of women simply fall over themselves trying to be the one on the arm of
The Foreign Man. It was absolutely pathetic and rather shallow. But then again, he was rather used to shallow considering the company he had been keeping for the past couple of centuries or so.
He watched as they sat in their little group, whispering among each other, placing bets on who could get them back home and into their bed first. How sad that whores grouped together as such and turned such an act of intimacy into sport and game.
Show some pride! he thought to himself. Kristof wasn't runner-up for the
Nicest Guy in the World Award but he did have some standards. He never did have a taste for harlots – Not even in his before-death life. He was always a one-woman man. Well. Now he was Helena's. Though she didn't know just how much.
Running fingers through his hair, he flashed a grin to the women. He wanted to vomit in his mouth at the obscene gestures being made by the redhead. What had happened to the human race? Resisting shaking his head, he moved away from the bar and headed for the women. Their whispers died to a hush as he drew closer. They instead resorted to fawning over his appearance. He was wearing a white tank top and a pair of Sean Jean denims with black DC shoes. He was feeling pretty bored and lazy when he woke up, but the pride that rippled through his body accompanied by the dark stubble that he allowed upon his face.
He finally came to a stop and perched upon their table. He didn't touch any of them and he wasn't going to. If it had not already been made obvious, Kristof wasn't a fan of humans. They were weak, vain, and trashy. They were food and absolutely nothing else. Sometimes they were toys. But that's exactly it. They were objects not worth the affection or praises of the beings higher than them. He laughed at the humans that thought themselves worthy to share a bed with creatures of the night and wanted to vomit when said creatures actually did share a bed with them.
“So, big boy. What'cha sippin' on?” The brunette was an African American woman who's hair framed her face in thick curls and didn't extend past her shoulders. Kristof gave a shrug and a smile. “You tell me. You girls have been staring at me rather hard for quite some time.” His accent was heavily Italian, forcing the girls to choke down squeals, though he was drowning in the scent of their...moisture. He growled under his breath, though it was audible enough for them to hear. Instead of being frightened or even a bit weirded out, they simply moved closer, batting fake thick lashes in an attempt to get ahead in their 'race'.
“Well. A friend of mine makes a killer 4 Horsemen. Jack, Johnnie, Jose, and Jim mixed together. You ever had one?” He started out slow with idle conversation. The redhead was closest to him and had rested her hand on his knee. “Oh wow. That sounds really strong. I've never had one.” She smiled. Jersey accent. She had an irritating tan that looked almost orange, her lipstick was too red, and her hair was so big he had no doubt that it could house at least three families of birds and rent out a single room for a bachelor. But he winked at her despite it all. “It is. If you guys are down for a party...” He didn't have to finish because they were already grabbing their clutches and waiting for him to lead the way.
While a challenge thrilled him, being lazy and taking the easy snacks provided him with more idle time to spend trying to please Helena. Thinking of how submissive the woman made him without even trying made him sick. But he couldn't help it and he really wasn't sure whether or not he minded. He drove his old Chevy pickup truck quickly, contemplating the thought. There wasn't enough room for all of the girls in the front of his truck, so they had fought over who would sit in his lap. In the end, the blonde beat the others in a game of rock, paper, scissors.
“Pathetic.” He had muttered to himself.
“What was that?” The blonde glanced at him with a light smile. She was a Washington native. That much he had picked up from her nonstop yammering on and on about her life story. Abusive parents, always dated losers, hoped to settle down and marry soon. All before she turned twenty-four. He didn't see what the rush was these days when it came to settling down. What happened to taking it slow? Maybe taking it slow was an easier feat for him because he had forever.
“We're here.” He smiled, nodding to the house that they were coming up on. No matter where they went, they always lived away from town and near the forest. It was easier for them to carry out their daily activities this way, plus nobody could hear their helpless victims screaming for at least five miles. Which was always great for their little...games. Plus it kept them out of the eyes of nosy neighbors. They liked to bring their snacks home sometimes so they could share and it was never a good thing when neighbors decided to point out that they last saw the victim with them. Investigations had gotten a lot more thorough over time. He remembered when you could kill someone and if the killer wasn't found within three days, the law said fuck it.
He and the girls scrambled out of the car and up to the house where he let them in and locked the door behind him. “I thought you said there was going to be a party. Are we early or something?” The brunette turned around and popped up her left hip, doing that weird head bob that seemed to be popular. Back in the nineties.
“Oh no. We're just in time. In fact – You're all the guests of honor.” He smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Honey, I'm home.” He didn't bother to call out, knowing Helena would have already smelt and heard him coming at least five minutes ago. He had been gone for two days, letting out some vampire that she had a quarrel with and locked up some time ago in a cave. She had starved him for a while. She didn't give him the specifics because he didn't need them. All he knew was that after they finished hunting down and tearing these girls apart, he was going to play his own hunting game with Helena. He smirked to himself, shivering at the thought of hearing her scream for him again. Feeling her raking her nails down his back and tearing into his flesh.
Another shiver ran down his spine as he inhaled deeply, Helena's scent intoxicating him in a way that no human's blood ever could. His body stirred some as he opened up his eyes. The girls were trying to escape. Oh – So they were playing inside the house? Were they hoping that it'd play out like in the horror movies? They'd sneak around the house and hide in closets with a knife and then barely escape with their lives after some weird accident kills the killer? Oh, Helena was going to love this. Helena loved when they fought back. Whatever got her more riled up, the better. He watched as they ran towards the kitchen. He just stood there. He listened. They fumbled around looking for knives. One of them cut herself – Ooh! O positive. Helena's favorite. His fangs slid out as a menacing grin etched itself across his lips.
There she was, sitting across the bar in the heavily crowded club. A woman of great beauty; she had hair as dark as a raven's wings that cascaded down her body in thick curls and framed the delicate features of her face. Her skin was ivory like the porcelain mini-statues he kept on a shelf in his room. And her body! Good lord, her body! She had curves in all the right places. She looked over at him with bright green eyes and offered a shy smile. The Irishman grinned back and adjusted the lapels on his new Gucci suit before moving away the area of the bar that he had taken occupancy of only a few hours ago.
“Can 'ah buy you a drink, miss?” Lucan flashed her a winning smile and smirked inwardly as she openly swooned at his accent. American women...American
humans were so easy to captivate. So long as you possessed a foreign accent, they would rob a bank at the snap of one's fingers. It was highly amusing to the vampire. "I'll take a Jack and Coke. As long as you're buying." She tried her best to purr out a faux hispanic accent but she failed miserably. He didn't show his absolute disgust and instead contorted his face as though she had just spoken the most fascinating thing he had ever heard in his life.
The woman was so easy to manipulate that it almost made him sad. Where was the challenge? But his boredom did not once show on his face as he continued to woo her at the bar before escorting her to the dance floor where he went a few rounds with her. Women these days had absolutely no sense of class. They thought they'd find husband material by wearing tight-fitting clothes that were a size and a half too small and then grinding their junk on them. And they wondered why so many of them were raped outside of bars. That was like teasing a lion and then wondering why the lion tore off your arm.
The woman came alone to the crowded club, having just got out of a fight with her roommates. She was just looking to have some fun and find someone special. She had a good feeling about tonight.
Why wouldn't she be able to find Mister Right in a club? Her sister got married that way. But her sister was also abused daily. But that could never happen to her, oh no! And Lucan was such a gentleman and so sexy. Nothing could go wrong with him, she thought as she danced with him, feeling safe wrapped in his arms as he whispered romantic sweet nothings into her ear.
By seven-thirty, he was on his way to a hotel room with her. She offered to take him back to her place, but that meant neighbors. And roommates. People who would see his face. When she turned up missing, they would all look at him. He hated investigations. People of this century were so thorough. No. Instead, he offered her a motel room where she wouldn't need to worry about her roommates knocking on the door, asking them to be quiet. For he assured her that he would have her screaming. That it would hurt so good that she'd be begging him to stop. They had both grinned about it, though he had smiled for much darker reasons.
“It isn't the nicest place that I've been taken to. But you're well worth it. You're so charming. So sexy.” She giggled in an annoying way. pulling him by the tie into the motel room when they had arrived. He hated that. When a woman was attractive but then opened up her mouth and everything about her was annoying and fake. He also hated when people tugged on his clothes. He paid far too much for his clothes for the threads to be ruined by easy whores tugging on them in an attempt to be sexy. Lucan simply grinned and shut the door behind him.
The woman, who's name he had learned was Shaunee. was attempting a sexy dance while removing her clothes. He sat on the edge of the small, single bed and watched. “Dance slow. Like I'm the last man you'll ever please.” She paused with wide eyes, interpreting it as
“If tonight is completely perfect, then I'm your new husband.” Though his meaning was far darker than she could imagine. He found the way she wound her body, dipping low and grinding her derriere on the floor rather...disgusting. He couldn't be any less aroused if he was watching a fat midget make love to a donkey. In fact, he thought that he may have found that more arousing.
Maybe that was being a little over dramatic, but the point was made.
The woman was atrocious. As she began to strip, he finally found something about her worth getting aroused for. Her body was perfection. And his great eye-sight enabled him to see that it was all natural. He loved natural bodies far more than those fake ones women got nowadays. Going to doctors to have fat sucked out of them and then put back in for curves. Having silicone shoved into their breasts. Ugh - Laziness is what it was. He loved a woman that kept up with herself through natural means. Dieting, exercise, and those such things. It seemed that this woman kept a rather rigorous work out. “I'm a personal trainer.” She smirked, as though reading his mind. She had stripped down to thong and heels, just about to take off her heels. “No. Leave the heels.” He murmured, unbuttoning his jacket and shirt, sliding them off of his body. She grinned and continued to dance, letting him undress. It didn't take him long to get nude.
Lucan wasn't a very buff man. He didn't have bulging biceps or a six-pack. Hell, he didn't even have a four-pack. He looked as though he hadn't seen a decent meal in three months, really. He was a sickly man before he was turned and his body was frozen to be forever so and she was not pleased. “Uh, no hunny. I don't think so.” Her face contorted some and she dropped her arms, standing up straight. “Look, honey. You packin' and everything.” She gestured to his hardened member. “But you really ain't gettin' with me lookin' like that.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent over to gather up her clothes, intending to leave.
Lucan sighed and came up behind her. using his strength to hold her gently, brushing his lips against her neck as he whispered, manipulating her. “Give me a chance to provide you with a nigh' you'll nae forget soon. My body is this way from cancer. I want to enjoy my last days with a beautiful woman.” The woman melted into his accent again and with such great length pressing against her, she couldn't resist. “You're pretty strong for such a scrawny man.” She mumbled as he turned her around. He smirked and soon had her in his arms mounted on the wall.
He always made sure that his meal enjoyed their last few minutes of life. He loved the scent a woman exuded when in heat and the way her heart would race with each passing moment. Nothing could beat that rush. But what was even better was experiencing it all and drink from them at the same time. Draining them of their sweet life force. Plus, he preferred screams of ecstasy over screams of pain.
His fangs slid out in that way that they did, slowly sinking into her, leaving various marks along her arms, chest, and neck before settling just over her heart. She was crying out in ecstasy as he released a Toxin into her that would send into a frenzy of pleasure as he drained her to death. “You're seriously into some kinky shit!” She gasped out, clawing at his back in response.
He himself had to muffle a groan as her sweet life blood began to flow into his mouth. It was warm and oh-so-sweet! She soon began to realize that she was growing weak and it wasn't from being tired. It wasn't from the sex. She realized what was happening and tried to struggle but the pleasure was too much. She begged for more. She begged him to stop. And then she begged for more again. She didn't know what to do.
But Lucan did. He kept feeding. On and on and on he went. He didn't stop until her body no longer moved and her heart no longer beat. He sighed, pleased with his meal. Then he frowned. There was a funky aftertaste that he was none too pleased with: Steroids. He threw her body away from his and proceeded to clean up. He showered and got dressed in no time. There wasn't even a single spot of blood on the floor. He had lapped it all up. He sighed and hoisted her body over his shoulder.
The ride back to the house was long and irritating. He had stopped to dispose of the body by feeding it to the wolves deep in the forest. Since they had been in Washington, he had been feeding them the bodies of all of his victims. He had even come to consider them to be pets. They'd come around the house sometimes. He had a couple of pups in his room, even. But he always kept the head, the shoes, the clothes, and the accessories. One thing that was easily noticed about his victims was that they wore designer clothes, new jewelry, and were all the same size as Roxanne.
He pulled up to the house, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Helena was home...Oliver. Scarlet. Dmitri. Kaleigh. Kristof was finally home. But no Roxanne. He began to frown until three other scents wafted under his nose. Three women. No doubt Kristof had brought Helena some snacks. Or maybe they were all going to play cat and mouse. Shrugging, he got out of his cherry red 2012 Chevy Impala and ran straight to the house.
He knew the front door would be locked, so he instead scaled a nearby tree that extended up to his bedroom window. Inside his bedroom was pretty classy. Everything was designer from the sheets on his bed to the clothes hanging on racks. His room was actually pretty huge – Second only to Helena's. Only to accommodate all of his shoes and outfits and paintings and other little collectables.
He was greeted by cute little barks and two wolf pups jumping on his legs. “Heya loves. Don't worry, dinner's comin'.” He smiled and crouched down, scratching behind their ears as the wagged their tails happily to the familiar Irish accent.
Dmitri refused to so much as look at Helena simply because he did not care to grace her with his gaze. He didn't look at Kaleigh out of respect. When Helena touched him, he wanted to haul off and slap her. But he simply tensed his body. Her cheek pressed against his was almost too much to bear, but he stood...or sat his ground. He had been put through a lot of things by every vampire in the house. From having his limbs slowly broken to slowly bleeding out from several cuts. He had even been forced to play in their cat and mouse games. He didn't mind much after he thought about it – With him as their punching bag, Kaleigh and Scarlet were generally safe.
He didn't really like Scarlet. He thought that she was a deranged idiot. But chivalry was one of his better qualities. Even if it was incognito. He mostly put up with the abuse for Kaleigh, though. There were times before when he would see Helena in a bad mood and headed for Kaleigh that he would distract her by acting out. Maybe that's what this was all about. Maybe she
knew. Great – That's all he needed; her to find a weakness. But he was still hopeful that Kaleigh would be able to convince Helena to keep him for her. Did she care for him enough to try that?
He was torn from his thoughts by Helena's voice. Her threat made him literally turn stark white. He was having trouble believing what he was hearing, thinking that maybe he had heard wrong. But here he was being forced and bound by chains to look upon Kaleigh. He wanted to struggle, but he couldn't. He could never do anything knowing that it would hurt Kaleigh. He did all that he could to protect her. And Helena knew it now. He watched unwillingly as Helena moved to Kaleigh and stripped her down fully. He wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he couldn't.
His eyes locked onto Kaleigh's, pleading for her forgiveness. He never meant for this to happen and he could only blame himself. He should have kept his head down. But he couldn't! He couldn't help but to fall for the beautiful redhead. She was just so sweet and kind. It broke him down to see her in any sort of pain. Right now he only wished he could break from the chains that bound him and sweep her up into his arms. He wanted to brush away the tears and tell her that it was all going to be okay. That they'd escape one day. But he couldn't. He could only watch and feel so helpless that it was almost pathetic.