Summary: "My love, you are too perfect for any man. Luckily, I am more than that,"
Warnings: suggestive, mentions of possessiveness, alluding to blood drinking.
The manor, he tells you, is empty.
It's big and grand and shows off the material splendor of life, but it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth that can't replace the warmth of extroversion.
And it can't stop the hunger either.
He tells you that your beauty is like the sapphires he'd seen in India, that it is the sun rising against the backdrop of the Andes. Endless similies and metaphors curl off his tounge, revealing his tendency for nostagia dipped in his many past lives.
These words are poured like finely aged wine into your ears as you watch the newly gifted diamond necklace bounce light off your reflection. The hand that you can feel delicately fasten the clasp around your neck is resistant to the mirror's power, leaving the chill of his soft skin as the only evidence of his existence.
You continue to ponder this thought until the fingers move to dance across your neck. His hand reaching the scarring on your neck you wear like a jewl, and you subconsciously move your head to the side a little to grant him more access.
This earns you a pleased noise vibrating from the body behind you. The feeling of a different arm snaking its way around your waist to hold you against him makes you look down and the first visual proof of the vampire's presence is revealed.
Mark sighs into your neck, as his mouth travels to the skin there to lightly press against it.
"My love, you are too perfect for any man. Luckily, I am more than that," He laughs subtly at his own words, pressing you even deeper into his grasp as his lips start to explore your neck in more detail.
You make a noise high in your throat when you feel the playful scratch of fangs.
"Oh, so responsive tonight, my dear. Perhaps I should stop my teasing to prevent any over excitement," Despite his words, he continues to graze across your skin even whilst saying them.
Your head moves back slightly, wanting to rest against his shoulder. Anything to be closer.
"You look ravishing, Y/N," He almost sounds wounded, making your eyes flutter slightly and head fully drop into his strong embrace.
"So good for me. So ready to give everything to me,"
"For you," You whisper the words, but of course, he can still heard them. He smiles into the space between your neck and shoulder, making you sudder a sigh.
"I could take you right here, Y/N. Not even make it to that gastly party, just keep you here, draining you whilst I overwhelm you with pleasure again and again,"
You moan then, and he can clearly feel the sound through your body.
"That's it, darling. You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to possess you in every way, keep you all to myself, not let that dull Mayor or anyone else near you again,"
You can't help but nod.
Mark seems to consider this, mouth lavishing a deep mark into your shoulder, hands roaming slightly across your body.
Much to your disappointment, he raises his head again, sighing into your ear.
"Unfortunately, my love. We have a function to attend. But don't worry," He bites then, not enough to break the skin, but it makes you whine even so. "I intend to make it up to you."
Alright. Here we are. The point to which I’ve caught up to my writing, AND IT’S STILL NOT DONE DANG IT!
But I’m not abandoning this just because spooky month is over after today. This story is done when it is done by Joe!!!
There will no longer be a daily update however :(
The two cameo characters in this chapter belong to @justwritingscibbles and are being used with her permission.
Edited by @the-wild-ego
PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE
PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT
When you stepped through the opening, and back into the garden, you found a world of chaos and Hell fire.
Hell fire particularly came to mind, due to the fact that there were burning craters with blue black flames peppered throughout the garden. Blue fire was not natural. The only time you’d seen blue flames, was on Hades in the movie ‘Hercules’. Aka the God ruling over the underworld.
A blur of blue and black flew past you, close enough that a light searing heat grazed over your nose.
It crashed down into the ground, creating another crater. From where you stand, you could make out Mercer and… was that… NateMare?
Your stomach rolled with the threat to eject.
His face was half melted off, his hair was on fire or had become fire?
Just what the Hell was he?!
Mercer and NateMare were oblivious to your return.
Mercer took hold of NateMare’s jacket collar and, using his weight, flipped NateMare over his hip and back into the ground. Not giving NateMare an opening, Mercer pressed his foot to NateMare’s throat.
One thing Mercer had noticed during the fight, was NateMare’s inability to turn to smoke. It seemed that in his full form, he lost certain powers in exchange for his Hell fire. As soon as Mercer had made this connection, he’d taken full advantage.
To NateMare’s credit, his full form did allow him greater strength and speed. Enough so to make a near equal match to Mercer.
Mercer’s flawless skin was marked from dirt, soot, and a smattering of burns slowly healing. His clothes had been torn and scorched in patches, showing where NateMare had managed to get hits in.
One thing Mercer was constantly watching for, was how much air NateMare drew in at a time. If NateMare was given a chance, and enough air, he could unleash a scream that could cause even a vampire fatal damage.
It was said that a Hell Banshee’s wail could send the soul of any creature straight to the depths of Hell.
That was, of course, the exaggerated telling from lore.
An acquaintance had corrected him, informing him that it was the force of the decibels in the wail that caused damage. It wasn’t that a creature’s soul was sent to Hell. Merely that their brains couldn’t handle the force and the victims were instantaneously killed.
As he had superior senses to a mortal, Mercer was certain that NateMare could-- at best-- render him unconscious.
Rather than try to remove Mercer’s foot, NateMare grinned and pointed his palms up towards Mercer’s face. Mercer leaned back and out of the way of the streams of blue flames that erupted from NateMare’s hands. The skin on the left side of his face blackened and cracked as the heat from the flames vaporized the moisture.
The last time you’d seen Mercer, he had appeared to you as a flawless, older version of NateMare. That image of him must have been an illusion.
You were inching your way closer towards them, allowing you to see the fury, loathing, and pain that tore away his ethereal appearance. His lips drawn back in a snarl showed that it was more than just his canines that were fangs, all of his teeth were sharpened points. The red from his irises bled into the whites, making it hard to tell where his irises even were.
These were monsters that had taken the form of men.
And here you were, walking straight up to them.
‘I have a death wish. It’s the only answer.’
Your mind was at war with your body.
With each step closer, your legs threatened to give out on you. Each grunt, growl, or twitch from the two you were approaching made you flinch. Your body wanted to run as far away as possible.
Yet, your mind was overriding your body and forcing each step closer. There was someone out here that had wanted to help you. They’d freed you from NateMare’s curse and their note had hinted that this would also do something about Mercer. Hell, you were even betting it would put a dampener on NateMare, too.
‘Just a little bit closer.’
You took another couple steps and you were right behind them.
Your fingers fumbled with the cap on the flask. You watched NateMare to see if he’d noticed you.
You thought you saw his head turn a fraction towards your direction.
The cap came off and Mercer’s shoulders tensed.
His body shifted, turning to face you.
Remembering what had happened the last time you met his eyes, you closed yours and with a small prayer, you swing your arm up and round to the side to send the contents out of the flask.
Having an idea of what was in the flask, NateMare took hold of Mercer’s leg and held tight. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain.
Mercer felt its purity the second the flask had been opened. He wrenched against NateMare’s hold on his leg and was met with more pain as NateMare used his flames to sink his fingers in for a better hold.
Had your eyes been open, you would have seen the magic of the flask. As it were, you certainly felt it.
As anyone in the Doctor Who fandom would quote, “It’s bigger on the inside.”
It was more than just a cup of water that came free from the flask. A geyser of water erupted from the flask. The force of it knocked you back a couple feet.
Over the roar of the water, you heard the agonized screams from both Mercer and NateMare.
*****
Two shadows watched from the trees nearby.
“Did you have to give the mortal the flask? We could have dealt with them both… I really liked that flask.” One grouched, shifting on the branch he perched upon. Tiny, softly glowing, green moths fluttered around him. Some landed on his shoulders, to which he ignored.
The other stroked the head of a little brown bat. It wasn’t one of his, but he would not take any ill actions out upon an innocent creature, bound to do another’s bidding. As the geyser from the flask ebbed to a trickle, he focused his sight onto the two steaming individuals that had been in the water’s path.
“We could have, yes, but that wouldn’t have done anything to nudge that one to a more… progressive mindset. Besides, I don’t like getting my hands dirty in another family’s dispute.”
Marquess made a noise that could be a cross between a laugh and a snort, “You sure don’t mind meddling though.”
Count smiled then, his fangs glinting in the shadows, “Let’s call this a special circumstance that warranted such actions.” he nudged the bat, urging it to fly over to the mortal.
It gave a tiny ‘squee’ of protest to being sent away, but did as it was told. As it took flight, so, too, did the observers.
For Friday 13th I wanted to write something different than the usual boys. So I hope you guys don’t mind me throwing these guys around. And I hope you all like a little Vampire story-telling.
It’s not scary but I wanted to write something different for a change.
The instant you stepped off the train and into the darkening streets, you knew it had been a bad idea to come home at this time. Even Dark, upon getting your text messages scolded you fiercely for the decision.
“You are aware of what day it is, yes?” His growl of a voice vibrated through the phone’s speaker. You sheepishly nodded, even though you knew Dark wouldn’t see it.
“Yes, yes, Friday the 13th. I’m aware. I’ll speed walk home, it won’t take long.”
“The Manor is at least six blocks away from the train station, (y/n). And you need to walk through the side streets to get here. No, stay there and I’ll come and get you.” Dark’s voice held no room for an argument. But you were already two blocks away from the station. And upon hearing his, Dark grunted. A noise that sounded between a heavy sigh and a feral growl. “Fine. If you are so intent on getting yourself killed then I have no voice in your decision.”
You rolled your eyes at Dark’s dramatics. He always complained about Wilford’s exaggerations and then he goes and says things like that. The two could rival one another on theatrics. But you knew he was only getting irritated, and dare you say concerned, about you walking home at night. While you’ve been away, there had been string of murders in the area. And the very thought had you walking a little faster when you remembered Google’s explanation on the gory details. Something you had asked him for over the phone while on your holiday. You didn’t learn quickly enough to be careful what you ask of Google. The Android didn’t know how to filter details.
“I’ll be ok. My battery is dying so I need to go. But I’ll call you when I’m close.” You said and Dark made another exasperated sigh.
“You better. And if you take too long, we’re all going out to look for you. And you won’t like it if I find you first, (y/n).”
“I know. Trust me, I won’t be stopping to pet any stray animals. I’ll see you soon.” You hung up after that remark. Pocketing your phone but keeping a tight grip on it.
Every shadow seemed to mock you as you walked. The lights were a lot dimmer than you remember. But then again, it was cloudy night. The full moon was peeking through the rain clouds to cast it’s silver glow over the streets. It was eerie. But you were glad for the luminescence.
You turned a corner and halted your steps for a moment. A man stood in the centre of the street. He was thin, facing away from you. But the shadows from the very dim street lights cast a shadow over him. Making him appear to be a shadow himself. You didn’t know whether you should turn back around or keep walking. But your decision was made when you blinked and the figure disappeared. You stayed there for a moment, looking around for the man, but continued walking when you found no-one. Your skin crawled with a shiver and you couldn’t help but survey the area around you. There was a sensation on your back, like a pressure. You knew this feeling from living with the Ipliers for so long.
You were being watched.
Your footsteps sped up. Gripping your phone tightly you deeply regretted not accepting Dark’s offer to pick you up. A sound carried on the wind. A giggle. Or a high pitched cackle. You weren’t sure, but it unnerved you and soon enough you sped up to a jog. You were about to turn a corner when something snagged your elbow and jerked you into the shadows of a building. A figure loomed over you. Reeking of a metallic scent and their grip soaked your jacket with some kind of warm liquid. Through the gloom, your gaze was transfixed by the stranger’s. They were warm and pools of sparkling emeralds. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. They were beautiful. Even as a clawed hand skimmed under the material of your shirt or as the man’s tongue dashed out to taste your skin, you were stuck. Staring into those green gems.
“Yer not gonna scream for me.” The man’s Irish accent was thick, but it was snatched up by the rumble that radiated off his chest. “And yer gonna stay still while I treat myself.”
You found your head bobbing on it’s own. Even as your eyes widen when the man leaned down, you didn’t fight his lips brushing over your neck. Your mind willed for him to stop, but your body molded into his as he drew you closer.
“Release them. Now.” Another voice boomed and suddenly the green-eyed man was thrown away from you. The haze lifted and you stumbled back. Straight into a pair of arms that cradled you against a firm chest. You shook your head to get rid of the fog in your mind, looking up as a monster rushed towards you. In a blur of movement, you were swept into your rescuers arms and soaring into the air. You were set down on the roof of the building as the man landed on it. He barely made a noise as he did and you turned to him. Backing away when the moon’s glow lit his face.
“D-Dark?” You asked. But it wasn’t him, something was off about his gaze. His complexion sharing that hint of difference to Mark’s appearance.
“I’m afraid not, my dear. But introductions will have to wait.” His voice held a hint of Transylvanian accent. Like the ones in movies. The man moved you behind him, keeping his arm raised as something crawled over the side of the building and onto the roof.
Anti... No. Again, the resemblance to the Youtuber was almost identical. Save for the glowing green eyes, that seemed to swirl in their sockets. Like small colored vortex’s.
“I told you this was my hunting ground, Count.” A hiss of a voice echoed over the roof to you. “That mortal is mine.”
“They are beginning to suspect you, Marquess.” The man, Count, said in a calm but firm tone. “And we never agreed on hunting grounds. This is my land by right. My brethren live in this area. If you do not stop they will come after you.”
The other man, Marquess, moved forward. His steps graceful and light, like a dancer.
“I do not care for brethren like you do, Count Iplier. Or else I would have scurried to my “kin” as you call them, long ago.” Marquess stepped closer. And Count moved you back. The cloak of his outfit brushed against your skin and you felt a chill run through you. Had that just moved against you?
“I won’t say again, Marquess Septiceye, leave this area. Before you make me do something I do not want to do.” There was an undertone to Count’s voice. It reminded you of Dark, when he was beginning to lose control of his shell. But this man didn’t seem to be getting angry, only impatient. And even so, he showed no emotion but a small crinkle around his gaze.
“Then battle me, Count. Let’s fight for these bloodbags.” Marquess leapt into a sprint before he finished speaking. He left a cloud of dust in his wake and you barely saw him move before Count had him by the throat, and threw him into the ground. His cloak exploded and rose high above Count. Looming over him like a beast as he bared two fang like canines at the fallen man.
“I do not want to battle you. Purely for the sake of keeping this human from seeing our true faces. This one is under my protection. I will not let a dear friend to the Iplier Manor fall victim to rabble like you!”
The shadow beast crashed down on the Septic Ego and then lifted off into the sky. It left it’s master on the roof but carried Marquess high into the air before erupting into what appeared to be hundreds of small bats.
Count turned to you as the sound of the other man’s crying filled the night sky.
“My apologies, my dear. If I had known you were arriving tonight, I would have escorted you home myself.”
You were unable to speak. Your eyes widening further as the swarm of bats dived down to gather around Count’s back. Reforming his cloak just as the other Ego plummeted into the alley beside the building. You didn’t hear a splat or a cry of pain, so you could only suspect that the man had landed neatly and ran off.
But your guess was shattered when a green cloud of crackling vapor shot into the air and dived towards you. You saw a misty form of reaching claws and eyes that glowed brighter than lightening as the mist raced towards you.
Suddenly you were enveloped in a chilling cloud of black as Count flew his cloak around you. It was like being wrapped in a thick furry blanket, but it was as cold as ice. It shook as the vapor struck it. A screech of fury from the other being could be heard and then a bellowing roar filled the air as Count spun, swiping at Marquess as he formed flesh. Black claws raked down the Septiceye’s chest and he reeled back as Count charged forward. His eyes ablaze with a deep pink brillance. The same swirling vortex sight filling his iris’.
“Leave, Marquess. Or I will make sure your coffin stays shut forever!” Count bellowed. The air shaking with his voice.
Marquess hissed and disappeared over the side of the building. You stayed silent for what felt like an eternity. Waiting for the Septic-Ego to come back. It was only when Count turned to you, his eyes had returned to normal. But you could see the tips of his fangs poking out from beneath his lips.
“Excuse my indecency. That creature brings out the worse in me.” Count said. His voice careful but smooth. It reminded you of Dark when he was trying to coax you into calming down.
“I...I’m sorry, I’m kinda of in shock right now. Who are you?” You forced the words out so you weren’t standing there like a fish gasping for air. Count smiled patiently and nodded, bowing and sweeping his arm in a gracious curtsy.
“I am Count Iplier, my dear. And I must apologize again for my ignorance. It is true I have yet to make myself known to the rest of my kin. But I know all about you and the other Ipliers. I wanted to know if this...Manor was of my tastes and I had to investigate it. And I must say, my kin aren’t exactly.... altogether.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle. Nodding in agreement. “They’re a bunch of strange men. Who are probably out hunting for me right now.” You quickly checked your phone and cursed quietly. You should have at least reached the Manor’s security border by now. Google would have seen you on the cameras and no doubt would have sent Dark out to escort you the rest of the way. Count looked off into the distance. His eyes narrowing a little and he offers you a gloved hand.
“Perhaps it is time for me to introduce myself to the rest of my brothers. Would you like assistance getting off this roof, my dear?” He asked, as casually as you would when asking someone if they wanted a glass of water. You rolled your eyes, already seeing the resemblance between this man and the others. You took the offered hand, the leather rather cold against your skin, and the man pulled you tightly against his side. Count guided you to the edge of the roof, holding you steady when you wobbled from looking down, and then dropped.
You yelped loudly, but Count was careful to hold you so he landed first and could soften you fall by lowering you gently to the floor.
Dark heard the yelp echo through the streets and made a beeline for you. He stalked through the shadows, coming into the street just as you did. His snarl was beyond furious and you backed up a little when he closed in.
“I gave you a fair warning to what will happen if you take your time-” But Dark’s threat was cut off by Count stepping out of the shadows. The two regarded each other for a long, tense moment. And you could practically feel the air between them ripple with suspicion.
“I take it you are the cause of all these deaths.” Dark’s tone returned to it’s natural calm drawl. And the Count nodded.
“A few. But the real culprit is Marquess Septiceye. Another Vampire Ego. I’d suggest retreating the others to the Manor. He’s been feasting for three days. He’s strong if you’re caught in single combat.” Count replied in an equally cool tone. You dearly hoped these two kept on good terms. You knew how younger Egos weren’t as strong as the popular, older Egos. But you had a feeling that Count was a threat in his own right. Being a....Vampire.
Your thoughts were scattered when Dark’s firm gaze turned back on you.
“We aren’t done. But I will save your scolding when we get home.” Dark took a firm hold of your elbow and went to drag you behind him when he quickly spun back around.
His fingers came away wet with red liquid, and he quickly removed your jacket to inspect the area.
“Marquess had recently fed.” Count informed Dark, as the Ego withdrew his hands and returned your jacket upon seeing no injury. “He is covered in blood. You will smell him before you see him.”
You didn’t want to put the jacket back on. The red stain sickened you. And now you could feel the blood sticking to your arm that had soaked through your coat. Count seemed to sense your unease and took the jacket from you. His eyes strayed on the stain for a second longer than was necessary. But he nodded to you, trailing along behind you and Dark as the older Ego led the way home.
