Darkness. It was welcome. Cold, feral, uncaring, unforgiving. Truth incarnate. And it hung like a miasmic shadow over the rotting city. Ah, darkness. Could I ever forget your embrace?
The city streets were slick with dew, the cobblestones clouded in a sloshy mix of mud and straw. Shadows hung wide and far in the dusk of the day, a welcome site for the Kindred as he stepped slowly from the door of his haunt.
Aeryn Everbleed. A name never spoken in these parts. A chosen name. His old name forgotten in times long past, since his supposed death. Ah, the cloying confines of the wretched city life had gotten to him, and he yearned again for his home in his vast Shroud-travels. Locks of pure silver hung about a porcelain visage only the Gods could forgive; indeed, even if the Gods cared to forgive.
His slender frame was well concealed amongst a tattered and dusty cloak; in the confines of which one would find no warmth of life or beating heart. He was predator. Aeryn scanned the streets warily as he stepped from the sanctity of his realm and into the uncouth and filthy dregs of human existence. Surely, there was something better to unlife then this rotten city? Perhaps, if the Kindred had their way, the human cattle could be removed and farmed... Then the vampiric Kindred could make this place a city of demonic beauty and hedonistic obsession.
The air was cool; his nostrils flaring as he stepped silently along the cobblestone path, ignoring the criers and whores that lined the tavern district where he held his Haunt. Their blood stank of alcohol and disease. A fairly hideous lot they were. But they were forage; without them, he would fall to Torpor and eventually Final Death.
Cold, unliving digits drew the cloak more tightly about him. While he wasn't the most elegant of his kind, his sheer beauty and indulgent features marked him as beautiful to the horrendous cattle that lined the streets around him. Surely, one of refined taste must be amongst this throng?
Then it was spotted. Golden tresses dancing about fair shoulders. Full lips begging to be bled dry. Aeryn had his prey. He lascivious form danced languidly past, full blue orbs locking for just an instant with those cold dead orbs Aeryn beheld her with. Her lips curved into a cautious smile. She had taken the bait.
Aeryn turned casually, the cloak billowing in its rotten glory behind him. She moved quickly, but not quite as quick as the dead. Aeryn had caught up with her, his features betraying his cold and callous nature in his manner of motion. Vicelike, his cold, dead fingers curled about her arm.
"Sirr, beggin your pardon, but do I know you?" The girl managed to stamer. She was swathed in grey; clearly she was a tavern girl, but one that suited Aeryn's refined pallet. He spoke slowly, his lips veiled by the cloak he so rigorously tightened about him earlier.
"I doubt it, sweetness. I have yet to see you here, and though, in my past travels, I have deigned yet to see a woman of such divine beauty and refinery as yourself. I, am Aeryn, of the house of Nod." He spoke softly, his regal tone overlaying the venom and disdain he felt. His eyes softened, nostrils flaring. He cared not for her, or who she was, simply that she would glut his temptations for the night, and lay stone cold and uncaringly wasted in some rotting alley by dawn. Ah, the predator.
"Your words are too kind, Aeryn. I am Lasandra, of the house of Earl." She smiled meekly. Had she known what he had intended, she would have fled screaming. But those eyes. She couldn't stop looking.
"Then, my dearest, I bid you entreat with me, and accompany on my evening walk, if you will?" His grip tightened. He hadn't given her a chance to say no. He cared not. It had been 2 nights since his last feeding, and the Beast was almost upon him. He could hear its feral calls deep in his blackened soul.
The crowd shifted to meaningless faces; masks by the hundred, and the night drifted on. They spoke of art, and the city, and of Fa'Diel, and the eastern realms. He cared not for her conversation. It was simply the thrill he got. He enjoyed feeling her desires, burning humanely amidst her innate being. Something he lacked. Something he would take from her.
Their meanders had taken them to a dark alley between two tavern houses where bar brawls were raging within. His iron grip loosened, and he turned to her, slowly, pulling aside the cloak to reveal a soft, warm smile. "Lasandra, I am afraid our evening has come to an end, for I am tired, and must tend to my arts in the morning."
"Aeryn, thank you, I must retire also. Shall I see you again?" She spoke hopefully. Yes, you would see him again. His movements were fluid and shrowded in darkness. his iron grip had clasped clammy fingers over her trembling lips. Talons dug into the back of her neck, small streams of crimson gracing the porcelain skin that belied his true nature. And then, her eyes, wild with terror, beheld his true visage.
Aeryn's jaws spread, a blackened pit, darkness streaming forth. She tried to manage a scream, but his cold hands held her down. Fangs, incisors, tore into the flesh of her neck. He was ravenous. Her eyes rolled back, eyelids flickering as her death throes were mixed with an odd sensation of passion.
His grip on her lessened. She struggled less. Tendrils of cloying darkness drifted about the couple embraced in death. Those terrible fangs had shredded what was once beautiful. Flesh hung loosely about her revealed vertebrae. He grey attire was stained a ruddy black. And the beast was satisfied.
The corpse was tossed aside, her usefulness now worn out; expendable assets, all of them. He ruled this city by night. Nothing passed without his knowledge, and nothing could live without the fear of his consumption, and yet, he was minor amongst his kindred.
Turning slowly, he made his way back to the strip, tightening the cloak about him once more. Oh, the loving embrace of darkness, and what a careful, loving mother she is.
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