btw it's so fucking stupid you can be anxious physically in your body even after you've decided mentally you don't care. I'm supposed to be in charge here
Premise: You got hired by two rich vampires to be the local blood bag...
Warnings: Vampirism, mentions of blood, mentions of feeding, weird workplace dynamics, Rashid is there (just in case you were wondering.)
Note: I promise I am not dead. It's been an eventful few weeks...
Word Count: 2.7K
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hellooooo?"
A muffled voice from the other side asks, "Who is it?"
"Kristy sent me! For the really vague live-in assistant position?"
The door opens, a tall man in all black steps to the side for you. You recognize him. "Rashid. I interviewed you for Mr. du Lac." He introduces, shaking your hand before guiding you into what must be the dining room. The place was huge, covered in paintings. Gray walls, minimalistic furniture, an occasional warm-toned accent or figure poorly attempting to liven up the room. It was clearly designed by a millennial. Either way, you weren't gonna complain because you wouldn't have to pay rent.
"I remember, yes. You're uhm taller than I thought you'd be." you say, smiling awkwardly.
Silence. Crickets. Pen dropped and could be heard. Rashid nods and clears his throat, "Thank you. You can sit right there, they have some paper work for you. Just before you start." Rashid collects a stack of paper from nearby and hands it to you. Your eyes go from the stack to Rashid.
"Oh, thank... you." Your words trail off as you begin to skim through the stack of paper. Jesus, this has to be an entire tree in your hands. You sign every dotted line regardless. Signature, print, date- over forty times as Rashid stands there waiting. It was hurting your eyes to even be skimming the sheets, just a blur of text you did not want to read.
"This is a lot of fucking paperwork? Am I selling my soul?" you look up from the papers, an eyebrow raised as your eyes search Rashid's for answers.
He shakes his head, "No, the owners of this residence are very private individuals."
"No shit," you say shifting through the papers in front of him for emphasis, looking up at him incredulously. You give him your forty-four. Yes, FORTY-FOUR signed documents that you for sure did not fucking read all the way through with hopes and prayers that won't bite you in the ass later. A sigh leaves you as your fingers travel to your temples, attempting to massage the headache away. You didn't even know what these people looked like. All you knew is that they were rich. You needed a job, and you were psyched to not have to pay rent. But with everything leading up to this, you were starting to wonder what the catch was. A live-in assistant position, a vague title with little to no description. So, either your career counselor sold you to traffickers... or you were about to be taking care of some very rich, very old man. Probably an out of touch, not tech savvy one. Hopefully you won't have to change diapers-- wait. They already had Rashid. You met the man, the myth, the legend. Rashid seems capable enough, so why exactly did they need you? Rashid walks away, your novella of paperwork in his hands.
You look around the room, waiting awkwardly. You briefly look down at the table. "Oh, this is... really clean," you murmur to yourself, looking at the black dining table that was so clean you could see your reflection in it.
"You arrived right on time."
You flinch at the words, looking up and seeing yet another tall man wearing all black. You didn't even hear this man's footsteps, damn, he needs a bell. "I did," you nod. Wait, you did? "Apparently," you affirm with a lack of confidence. The man is amused.
"My name is Louis du Pointe du Lac. It's nice to meet you." He smiles and walks over to sit in front of you.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. du Lac," you smile, nodding. Holy shit, he's so young and so handsome? Louis's smile widens, he mirrors your nodding.
"Please, call me Louis, you'll make me feel like an old man. Besides, Mr. du Lac was my father." He insists, fighting off a laugh.
You hum. "Mhm, Louis it is then." You nod again. Maybe the other property owner is the old man? Louis laughs quietly. Shit, did you say that out loud?
"Armand, my husband will be back soon. He went out for lunch." Louis says, glancing at your reflection in the table briefly. "Would you like some water? Rashid could fetch you some."
You shake your head, "No, I'm alright, but thank you."
"We had some things delivered for your room. After you speak with Armand and I, Rashid can escort you. The movers will be over tomorrow. Your flight, was it alright? I'm sure you're exhausted."
Your mind was blanking, trying to not get overwhelmed by the culture shock of speaking to someone who lives such a different life than you. You also didn't want to talk about the flight, you didn't handle it well. This is your first meeting with your boss maybe don't tell him you threw up in the airport bathroom before coming here..."Oh no, it was lovely, I'm quite alright, I slept the entire time. You didn't have to deliver anything-"
"It's no trouble, I insist, I want you to be comfortable here." He interrupts.
You nod, "Thank you." You glance slightly behind Louis, noticing Rashid standing by the wall. When the hell did he even get there? You have no clue. Wall-flowering, it seems to be his natural state. You hear the front door close distantly. "I'm guessing that would be Armand?" you ask Louis quietly.
He nods, "That would be Armand, yes."
"She's already here?" yet another tall man in all black clothing, you were beginning to sense a pattern. Wait... Jesus, everyone in this penthouse is attractive.
"Yes, she is." You reply for Louis, glancing at the man. He's not old. He doesn't look old... maybe he just has really nice skin and is secretly in diapers. Armand pauses, his head slightly tilting, eyes narrowing a moment. You glance over at Louis who has a shit-eating grin on his face. Oh, okay so Kristy probably sold you to traffickers and this is now your last day on Mother Gaia's Earth, cool. You laugh anxiously, "Sooooo... when do I start?"
"Yes, about that-- Rashid, you're excused." Louis begins to which your wide eyes watch Rashid leave. They're making him leave so there are no witnesses, oh no... "Armand and I would just like to go over your position with you."
Armand walks behind where you sit at the end of the table, sitting across from Louis. "Your job will be different from Rashid's. I'm sure you've gathered that by now."
"Perhaps." you nod. They pause, before nodding in sync. They briefly glance at each other as if they're communicating in complete silence. You fidget with your hands, looking down at the table, fully convinced that they're going to either murder you or make you a drug mule. They look at you again.
"This isn't exactly an ordinary job as we are not ordinary people...not in the way you may be thinking." Armand begins.
You simply smile and nod, "Am I going to die?"
"One day. Hopefully when you are an elderly woman tucked away in her cozy bed." Armand reassures you. "Louis and I have needs that cannot be met with Rashid's position-" Alarm bells sound in your head.
Are they swingers? What fucking needs?
"We are vampires." Louis says matter of factly.
Oh, nevermind, they're not traffickers. They're rich AND insane. No, wait, maybe they're alt, punk, or goth or something. You laugh, "So you guys are like... alternative?" you ask, looking around the room at the decor. It would explain the black clothes.
"No." Armand's brows furrow in confusion as he shakes his head. "We are vampires."
...
"So you guys like the Bauhaus?"
"No." Louis shakes his head. Sharp teeth peak from behind his lips, "We. Are. Vampires."
Your head tilts. Maybe if you just go along with it..."Uh huh, what does that have to do with Rashid and my job?" you ask.
"We have donors, but we need one that is more accessible. Rashid does not give blood." Armand explains.
"Ah, damn, that sucks. So, I'm donating blood?" You rest your chin on your hands, looking at Armand.
"Yes, but you will also assist Rashid." Louis clarifies.
"Right." You affirm. "You guys like Nu Metal?"
"You had a panic attack on the plane ride here. You got so embarrassed about it because you were profusely sobbing on the plane. You usually cry silently and alone. You got good at doing so throughout your childhood and adolescent years, having a tendency to shrink yourself because you worry about taking too much space and being a burden. You were so nauseous that you threw up everything in your stomach in the airport bathroom and then anxiously brushed your teeth for fifteen minutes, even set a timer on your phone--because you have sensory issues and hate the smell of vomit. Dear, we are not alternative. We are vampires." Armand leans forward slightly, delivering the words clearly, steady. No stuttering, only occasional pauses for emphasis. You silently sit there with wide eyes. What the fuck was that? Okay, maybe they're not crazy?
"What number am I thinking of?" You ask with narrowed eyes.
"Seven." He answers.
"Shit."
"For the record, no, Armand does not wear diapers, but he is quite old." Louis smiles. Armand looks at him, briefly offended.
"How old?" You were curious.
"514."
Your eyes widen. "Wow, you predate toilets...And you Louis?"
"146."
"Well, at least one of you never had to shit in a bucket."
Louis laughs, shaking his head, "No."
"So, do you guys have a feeding schedule or something?" You wanted to know more about your job, as accommodating what they needed was completely unknown for you. Trying to process that they weren't even human makes you feel insane.
They simple said you would be "called upon". Until then you were to rest in your room, Louis's orders due to the stressful flight. Only to be let out when it was time for dinner. The next day when you woke up, Rashid was standing outside your door ominously, ready to "train" you. He was a quiet man, it was comforting at times, but most of the time it was unsettling. You two gauchely ate lunch side by side at the dining table. You'd attempt to ask him questions, receiving only brief answers. Hopefully, he'd warm up to you. Armand, in the afternoon, came to silently relax in the living room on his iPad. A 514 year old vampire... sitting on a couch playing on an iPad... truly weird to witness. You pretended to polish a flawlessly clean nearby table just so that you could see what he was doing.
"You could always ask, dear mortal." Armand speaks up, still not looking away from the screen. You jump slightly, startled, not expecting him to speak. Were you that obvious... probably.
"What are you doing?" you peak over his shoulder.
"Checking my electronic mailbox."
"Boring." You sigh in disappointment.
"It's better than polishing a clean table." He offends, but he is right.
"Toosh"
"It's Touché." He corrects.
"I like Toosh better." you counter to get the last word before scurrying off to go find the creature that is Rashid.
Louis did not awaken until the sun set. You tried to not think of them too much as you assisted Rashid, awkwardly standing by his side when he wasn't doing anything. Louis's meal time was soon, according to Rashid, you were in the kitchen wiping down the table.
"Okay, so what will he be having?" you ask, looking over at Rashid.
"You."
"Oh okay." You do a double take. "Wait, what?"
"Louis's meals are staggered. He will drain an animal one day. Warmed blood donated to him from the local hospital the next. He drinks from donors another day. Warmed blood--and so on. Sometimes that schedule changes based on Mr. du Lac's appetite." Rashid explains as you swallow your nerves. You were listening while actively trying to not panic.
"And Armand?"
"He does not have to eat as often as Louis. He hunts most of the time when he does have a meal, but he also does occasionally request donors or warmed blood."
"Right." You nod.
"You're nervous." Rashid observes.
"I am."
"Don't be." He says.
"Oh, wow, I'm cured. Thank you, Rashid." You say, obviously sarcastically. He nods, fighting a smile.
Rashid moves his head slightly, gesturing to the door, “Go. He’s probably waiting for you.”
You hesitantly walk out of the kitchen. Your footsteps feel louder than they actually are. Your hair stood on end, goosebumps rise across your flesh as you walk over to the chair close by Louis. He sat at the head of the table, waiting patiently.
“Good evening,” he greets you quietly.
“Good evening, Louis.” You replied, your voice slightly shaky. His hand reaches towards you, you flinch.
“Shh, I won’t bite yet,” he smiles, carefully moving your hair behind your shoulder. His fingertips brush against your jaw as he slightly tilts your head, humming as he admires your neck. It felt… intimate. The way his eyes looked at you, it was a warm gaze. His slow movements of him inching closer. His hand, lingering near your jaw before moving to hold the opposite side of your neck. He pulls you closer to him and your breath hitches in response. His breath was cold on your skin as he leans closer. Your eyes squeeze shut, bracing yourself. You shiver, feeling his parted lips press a gentle kiss to the skin of your neck. Your eyes open, confused. Then you felt them…his teeth. Sharp, slightly wet from his saliva, his fangs grazed your skin. Your breathing stutters before a whimper leaves you upon feeling his fangs sink into your neck. He was purposely ever so slowly sinking them in, as if he was teasing you in some way. You bite your lip, looking up at the ceiling as you allow him to drink from you. You felt pathetic, trembling in the chair… your legs pressed together firmly with your hands clasped and resting in your lap. You felt his fangs leave you, but his cold breath lingered, fanning over your neck. His tongue dragged across the puncture marks, savoring the last drops of blood before pricking his finger and rubbing the punctures closed. You couldn’t move. You were honestly shocked. Did you… enjoy that? Fuck, you liked that…
“Your blood…” Louis begins. You shift your eyes to him. “It’s rich. Sweet.” His pupils were so dilated…
“Th-Thank you?” You stuttered, unsure if it was a compliment. His eyes land on your neck again, his bottom lip curling into his mouth. He presses his teeth into it with an effort of restraint.
"Rashid, get her a glass of water," You jumped at the sound of Armand's voice. He was standing near the entrance of the dining room. It made you wonder how long he'd been there. Rashid's footsteps echo near you. A glass of water enters your line of vision, you take it gingerly, thanking Rashid quietly. Your mouth was dryer than you thought it was, that realization only dawning on you as you nurse from the tall glass. Armand walks over to you, "Stand."
You sit the glass down in front of you before trying to stand up, doing as Armand says. Your limbs felt weak, your body was shaky, as you attempt and fail to stand. Before you could collapse, Armand's arms catch you, holding you steady.
"You took too much, Louis. She'll need about three days," Armand's brows furrow as he looks at Louis from over your head.
"Right, well, she should rest."
Armand walks you to your room, holding you steady. He helps you onto your bed, kneeling down and taking off your shoes for you.
"You don't have to do that," you look down to where he kneels, admiring his hair. The black curls looked as though they were made of silk. Your eyes travel further, eyes jumping to his hands, his soft skin... He glances up at you, slipping off your socks.
"Your body is going to be spending the next few days replacing the blood you have lost. Louis took one too many pints," Armand's words were soft, as if he thought any louder volume would startle you. He gets up, your eyes linger where he was before missing the view. He sits some pajamas next to you. "Please rest," he orders as he leaves, shutting the door behind him.
... What the fuck was that?
Should this have two parts?
Yes
No
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