"I am when I wish to be." Richard's voice, devoid of warmth or humor, cut through the pre-dawn stillness.
He gave the icy binds a sharp, unyielding tug, dragging his captive forward, the metallic click of his boots echoing against the oil-sheened pavement.
No flicker of remorse disturbed his cold gaze. “I’ll find you a meal if you are so… famished,” Richard continued, his tone a promise of conditional release, not kindness. “Then perhaps… I’ll set you free in some other district.”
Even in the ungodly hour, a few night-crawlers lingered, their gazes briefly snagging on the unusual tableau – a man in shadow, another bound by shimmering frost.
The garish glow of cracked neon signs – a lurid pink from 'The Siren's Call,' a sickly green from 'Cyber-Den' – painted streaks across the wet street as Richard purposefully navigated the labyrinthine alleys. He turned down a grimy, refuse-strewn passage, the air thick with the scent of stale beer and damp concrete, which dead-ended at a set of corroded metal stairs descending into a basement.
A single, failing neon tube, buzzing erratically, cast a faint, sickly yellow halo around a reinforced steel door. Richard knocked, the sound absorbed by the heavy metal, and waited.
A small, square panel slid open with a metallic screech, revealing only darkness and a gravelly voice demanding a password.
With a heavy clang, the metal door swung inward, revealing a hulking bouncer whose skin shimmered with a mosaic of thick, reptilian scales.
His small, obsidian eyes fixed on Richard, then on the ice-bound Vamp, but he offered no challenge, no rebuttal.
Richard pulled Vamp deeper into the club’s throbbing heart. The air vibrated with a bass so heavy it rattled the teeth, illuminated by strobes of emerald and amethyst that slashed through the smoky haze.
Bodies writhed on the dance floor, a pulsing mass that miraculously parted for Richard, as if the very ice trailing from Vamp’s binds exerted a tangible, chilling force.
Perhaps Richard commanded more power than he let on, an unspoken authority that cleared his path. He pushed through the throng, past the main club into a quieter, though no less opulent, backroom corridor. Without breaking stride, he almost kicked a lacquered door off its hinges, the splintering wood startling a patron who was diligently attempting to launder a stack of glimmering, dubious bills.
He shoved Vamp roughly towards the wide-eyed figure. “Here, your meal. And you! Quiet.”
The man scrambled back, his six beady spider eyes wide with terror, each one reflecting back their faces. “Richard! We can talk about this! I told Alexis I could get him whatever he wanted! Money, woman… just give me a few days, you know how it is...”
Richard hardly paid the plea any mind, his gaze chillingly detached. “I’ve always hated how you started doing business lately with...”
He almost looked disgusted to even mention the name.
“And honestly… you deserve this. You’ve been dodging me enough and I gave you plenty chances to stop..”
