submitted for yr approval...
me & katziel & ginger was RPing th'other day, i decided to spice up my otherwise dull & zippy creation "Kirke O'Bain" by flinging into the mix an old friend from his past. the scenario? Kirke ,as ever angstridden & not sure what to do with his vampyre nature, is now larking about modern day Paris with the elder Cronus (his lover?) & trying to get a grip on his Thirst, which he sees as an abomination, a worse addiction than the laudanum he still consumes in vast quantities. opiated out, he follows the scent of blood, thinking to just make a quick & mindless Kill, get over bein' so harsh on himself, & try to be happy. he corners this guy...only to realize it's the drummer from his old band! Driven nuts by remorse, he runs off. Dave is snagged up by Cronus's punq-rock niece, Kasi, who figures he'd make a decent dinner. & so we open from there, into this sick & lurid little scene i concocted in order t'give myself a new C to play wif...
th' 5 stages ov Undeath Denial- "ohh God, oh sh!t! This is NOT real, this cannot fuckin' be happening..." Anger- "ok, wait. Let me get this straight. I'm addicted to whaat? how the fuck could you drag me into your shit again, Kurt? How could you???" Bargaining- "ok. so it's a virus. That's all. Some sort of weird STD. I'll just adapt til I can find a cure. Right?
right???" Depression- "aaaaaaw, sh!t. Sh!t, man. So I guess I got to tell the band, what? we're um..in haitus now? oh great." Acceptance- "whoooo!!! wooo! I feel good! actually, this is not half bad at ALL. woww! sh!t, I can do anything I want now! Look out world, lock up your daughters!! Nothing can stop me now! I'm a FRESHMAKER!!! ha ha ha haaa!"
earlier...
Kirke sat just outside Kasi's place where he'd just been banished & he brooded, lost in painful reverie. i hate myself & want to die, he thought bitterly, not the first time. He'd come here despite Josin's protests, despite Cronus's anger. Come laudanumed and still crazily confused, consumed by guilt and fevered with barely sated Thirst. He rarely drank deep from Josin, tho he knew he could. Seemed not right, somehow, draining to dregs someone who could recoup & feed you again. As it were, he could barely lock eyes with the guy, embarassed someone could live thru his Thirsts & still like him okay when he hated himself so badly. Hated himself... only when he'd realized that Kasi WAS feeding on Dave had he reacted- only to be easily beaten back. He lowered his head & sobbed piteously. Dave was dead now, he was sure of it.
Wasn't he?
Kasi came out onto the rooftop after awhile, ruddy & pink and full of bemused good cheer. Full of dave's lifeblood, Kirke could smell it in her. It seemed obscene to him, this perkygoff punq-grl who had beaten him back like the starved fledgling he still believed he was, seemed sick she should be so plumped on his ex-drummer's vitae. She smiled redly at Kirke. And kindsorta nodded her head at the door, as tho to say he could go back in now if he so chose. Meekly, he did, unable to avoid feeling her contempt & confusion- why didn't he get it yet? Why was he so tweaked over a mere mortal?
He heard the sounds before even viewing the figure on the floor- the faintest & slowest of heartbeats, the shaloowest rasp of labored breathing. And he ran to Dave.
Dave's skin was almost cold, clammy with sweat. His head lolled like a broken necked doll, eyes half-lidded & capable of seeing nothing. But there, a spark of life. Just barely.
Kirke held him, pillowing Dave's head in his lap on his own bunched up cardigan. He could still scent the blood, a trickle slowly oozing from the bites in Dave's throat. It still made him dizzily Thirsty, & he hated that- that his Thirst would gladly have him gather his dying friend & send him over the edge, all for the merest taste of that rich elixir.
Dave's heart was starting to fibrillate.
Without thinking about it, Kirke bit himself, crunched down on his own wristmeat, gnawing with crazed abandon, tearing his median cephalic vein open. He held his bleeding wrist over dave's gaping mouth. And waited, hoping for the best.
He wasn't sure he COULD save his friend. So far his attempts at using hsi tainted blood had been failures. He'd rescued a few nice grrls from death. Only to have Sabria torch them later.
There was no reaction. His blood continued to spatter, down dave's throat & onto his lips, but dave had ceased to move. Kirke turned his head, sickened, as his eyes blurred with tears. "Ohh," he groaned hoarsely, "I fukt up baaad." "Mmmm, probably," said Kasi conversationally, somewhere,"I think maybe you did."
And that's when it happened.
---
Dave's level of incredulousness had about peaked when he'd realized yes, he HAD seen Kurt, & yes, this girl Kasi really WAS a vampire. In some ways, he'd just lost it then, too tweaked by too many impossible things happening all at once.
He'd wanted to grill Kurt, both finally elated to see him again & simultaneously furious- Ok, so, if he was NOT dead all this time where had he been? when suddenly the girl Kasi'd begun to get aggressively affectionate. At first he'd wanted to push her off- talking to Kurt was much more important, & besides, the whole fang thing repulsed & frightened him. But she was breathing, warm & perfumy in his face, & kissing his neck & earlobes. Suddenly he felt giddy, disoriented & no little aroused.
Part of him longed to fight this- ewww! she's a VAMPIRE, for God's sake!- but he seemed to be losing his sense of willpower. Dimly, he heard Kasi & Kurt argue over him, but his entire consciousness was woozily focused on the tickling lips teasing him, & the gradual rise of his dick this was causing. He felt sleepy, but painfully needy.
And then the bitch bit him. Hard.
The reverie was broken at the painful thrust of fangs into his throat, & he cried out, a muffled shriek as the relentless push was flattening hs windpipe. He struggled under her, kicking, punching with blind fury, that this was a chick be damned, this was his LIFE at stake here! He felt his jugular, his cartoid sever. His most vicious attack was not pushing her off, didn't even seem to affect her. He was beating at this woman, but he might as well have been trying to move a statue for all the reaction. If he could roar, he would have, but all that came forth was a pathetic groan. He felt indignant fury. This was rape! He had not asked for, had not wanted this
Then the draining began. He could feel the pull thru his entire venal structure, like electricity. And slowly, he began to lose consciousness.
He was swimming in & out of it, his vision just completely murky, his hearing underwater, as thru gauze. Kurt, somewhere. but far away. If I'm dying, Dave thought, wouldn't Kurt sound closer&closer?
Kurt was close. Dave felt, from a thousand miles away, some sort of warm wetness spattering his parched lips. With mootions that took centuries to complete, with a tongue that felt made of stone, he tasted the liquid. It was heady, thick, sweet, like plum wine. But salty, too. Coppery. With just a hint of bitter, narcotic after-tang. Dave's mind reeled with revuslion, realizing exactly what it was he was swallowing. His body knew what to do tho, in spite of the mental protestation. He latched on & drank. Furiously. Lustily. as tho his life depended on it.
---
Kirke looked round wildly, to Kasi,but no, she was just finding this all funny & seemed unlikely to intervene. He looked down at dave, latched tohim, hands clamped around his arm as tho he'd NEVER let go, he looked at dave & implored him silently to let up now, but Dave's eyes were crazed, mindless. Like any vampyre at its feed.
This was not the usual ecstatic swoon Kirke felt when he'd been drank from in the past, not the masochistic rush of hormonal bliss. There was no pleasure here at all, dave was hurting him. All of Kirke's Thirst-crazed veins were on fire with the pulling, & he wanted, no, he needed this to stop right now!
But for the moment, anyway, he was vampyre, & Dave still human. It took effort, but he managed to pry Dave's fingers off & yank his wrist back. Dave's lips unlatched fromthe cut with an obscene little pop. And now, what? Kirke thought bitterly. He staunched the gash in his wrist at first with pressure & the sleeve of his plaid flannel overshirt, until he remembered (duh!) yeh, he HAD the power to heal this quickly. He licked the wound, tasting his own blood, mixed with residue of Dave's beer-soured saliva. Kirke winced, doubled over with a pang of Thirst, all jangling nerves & burning nauseous stomach until it receded.
When he turned to look again, the ex-drummer was going thru a series of staccato rhythms alright, his body jerking & twitching & shivering on the floor. Fishbowling, they call that, Kirke's inner voice reminded him in a flat Burroughs-esque narrative. He'd seen quite a few junkies get like that, jerking around in near coronary failure. Took CPR to stop em from flatlining. Sh!t, fact is he'd wound that way no few times himself, coming to in a tub of ice water, surrounded by panicked angry people thumping on his thin chest & force-kissing air into his mouth. So now what, Kirke thought, that's a death rattle for sure. All this bloodloss, & now Dave's dying anyway. Sh!t! I'm a fucken loser.
soy un perdedor.
At length Dave lay still, contorted at the last into an agonizing looking Jesus Christ pose, arms flung out where they'd fallen when Kurt'd wrenched him off, hands hooked into arthritic claws. Dave's head was thrown back, exposing Kasi's teethmarks in his neck, painfully swollen-looking below the stubble of his goatee. His eyes were open, glassy, & looked reproachful. Kirke became aware of a piteous keeling sound, looked everywhere, even over to Kasi before he realized he, himself was the one making it. As he realized this, he slumped over, increasing volume, risng at length to a lost yowl.
And Kirke shrieked, again& again, primal screams of desolation & fury. He pounded the floor with his fists. Slammed himself into the wall until he couldn't get up again, furious at himself for failing Dave in more ways than one, furious at himself that he'd even assumed he could make a difference.
"oh, man...get the fvck up. Get off the floor, Kurt. Sh!t, you're embarassing me."
The voice was impatient, indignant, but full of good humor. There was a warmth in spite of its dismissal.
Kirke looked up to see dave standing over him. Hand held out to help him up. The tribal & Led Zeppelin logo tattoos shone darkly in contrast now to the paler skin of Dave's arms. His hair had freed itself of its pig-tails during the struggle. Only the eyes betrayed the change. Thru warm brown, a faint reddish glow.
Dave raised an eyebrow. Quirked his mouth into a brusque smile. "Well?" he said.
Kirke stared at him dully. "I've created a monster." he murmured. Cronus is gonna KILL me,, came his afterthought, or Dave. Both of us.
oh sh!t.
