Mayhem

[Saiketsu]

"Money up front," she had said with a delectable smile. She was new at this whole game. She was still beautiful, touched by only three dirty men within two nights, the tender age of seventeen. Heeled open-toed shoes with pretty purple polished toes, mini skirt and v-neck tank; it made what blood he had left in his veins pulse wildly. This girl, Rachelle, with her faux blonde hair and fragile face was perfect for the time being.

And it was all too unfortunate for her, because now she was pressed against the scummy, brick wall of an apartment building with a strength she had never known in her entire life. The strength of a vampire, of Nikolai pressing her, breaking the delicate bones of her shoulders against the wall with his own hands. She was crying, of course, shaking with terror and anger while those thin limbs scratched at his skin and clothing. And he was letting her too, making her death look less suspicious. He hated giving them painful deaths when he wasn\'t in the mood to watch them struggle or he wanted the blood badly enough. But Nikolai knew that it was needed to maintain a facade, so he let her while the Thirst raged inside him.

He hadn\'t given her death much thought, really. And as her defensiveness was failing, her arms becomming more and more numb and the sense of hopelessness eating her alive, Nikolai began to think of how this corpse could be hidden. The strength in his arms released the mortal girl and poor Rachelle slid down the wall, slumped and still crying.

Down the street was the nightclub, Risk. He had heard about it through a very distant friend, one on the farthest reaches of the Ring. This guy, Damien, was very old, everyone knew that. And while Nikolai didn\'t like him much, him and his ideas of a vampire army and some bitch that was his dead lover reawakened, Nikolai understood that Damien knew what he was talking about when it came to such matters of disposing the evidence of a kill.

Nikolai hadn\'t thought this through well enough. He had broken this girl\'s arms and couldn\'t leave her body in the open. The wound in his throat and the mindblowing headache forced him to act on impulse, picking up a prostitute instead of waiting the fifteen minutes to get to the club where victims were willing and could be disposed of easily enough. It was that Akari that got him into this mess and now what could he do?

"Get up," he commanded softly to her, forcing her to draw away. The vampire reached down and picked her up by her arm and she let out a scream of agony. He held her close though she wriggled against him and bit into the soft flesh of her neck. She quivered and wriggled while her blood flowed into him, filling him with warmth. But he pulled away and looked at her, his wound becomming less noticable, his lips tainted. Rachelle looked dizzy, needed help standing. Nikolai gripped her waist and helped her stand, beginning to walk. "Play along and I won\'t kill you," he lied.

They appeared at the doors to Risk within minutes, a shorter walk than Nikolai was expecting. He grinned fakely at the bouncer, showing his teeth and she smiled nervously. In they went, the smells of human sweat permeating the air and driving him insane. He went to the first available nook he saw, right next to the mortal bathrooms, pushed her against the wall gently. "Good work." He locked onto her throat with a force that broke her neck and drained her of her life. Nikolai let the body fall to the ground and walked away. Poor Rachelle.

The vampire walked out, looking towards the dancefloor, Marilyn Manson reverberating off the walls.

Digging your smile apart
With my spade-tounge.
The hole is where the heart is.
We built this tomb together,
And I won\'t fill it alone.
Beyond the pale
Everything is black,
No turning back.

It all made him smile. But he wanted more, more blood, more mayhem. The flashing lights and the pressing crowd. Nikolai breathed deep all that was Risk, his throat a sharp glimmering pain and the headache barely touched.

But that body. Poor, poor Rachelle. She had done her job well and he couldn\'t simply leave her there to rot, right? But who to tell?[/COLOR]

[Harlequin]

Morgaine needed something she could not define. The first thing she needed, yes, was something to wash the taste of freshly-siphoned gasoline from her mouth – preferably something stronger. She had enough money, now, to buy the gas she needed from proper channels, but the girl had a mean larcenous streak, and that shiny purple muscle car she\'d taken it from probably belonged to an asshole, anyway.

And who was to blame for this newfound financial security, more than Risk? No one, she answered herself, that\'s who. Plus, her and her bandmates got free drinks as long as they brought the crowds – which they did, superbly, on a bi-weekly basis.

Morgaine could take the stares and the hungry taunts, because of the free drinks.
Morgaine would go to hell and back, for free drinks, come to think of it.

After greeting the bouncer with a laugh and a familiar pat on the back, she entered the club, a ball of quivering, defiant human energy. She was small – all curves and scar tissue and small bones and rich brown skin – but her presence could be felt a mile away, charisma and something darker boiling away beneath the surface.

Though she was human, the other beings didn\'t touch her. Morgaine was disputed territory – she delighted the senses in her short skirt, torn concert t-shirt, fishnets and combat boots, wreathed in a strange perfume of sweat, oil, curry, and jasmine, and the music she made with her band was indescribable. It was because of this music that she remained alive and defiant, independent, but never quite equal.

She made her way through the thronged dancefloor, forsaking the bar for the moment, and heading toward the bathroom with an intent to freshen up. She halted just short of her destination, however, and backtracked. Something wasn\'t right with the way that girl was lying in that dimly-lit nook, behind the diaphanous curtain. Stepping closer, and pushing the curtain gently aside, Morgaine saw the remains of what had once been a teenage girl, neck and arms bent at grotesque angles. Shaken, she let the curtain fall and stumbled back a step as her startled cry of "Motherfucker!" rang out, over the thumping bass.

It looked like Nikolai didn\'t have to tell anybody, after all.

[Saiketsu]

Nikolai found a seat at the bar, the anger and heated blackness in him stirring as passing humans looked upon the gash in his throat. Anxiously he kept his fingers drumming on the bar, glaring through the corners of his eyes at the bartender who was getting him the blood he needed so desperately.

It certainly wasn\'t his prefered way of Feeding, or even one of the top five prefered ways, but it was blood and he needed it right now. And besides, it wasn\'t as if he didn\'t have the cash. No, it must have been the way it looked.

A bloodied, sullied vampire to sick to kill his own humans, living off the life-blood of the barkeeper\'s stash. How pathetic, he brooded as the glass slid down the bar into his clawed grip.

Yet barely had he raised the glass to meet his jagged lips which had torn out the throat of poor, young Rachelle, did he hear the cry of distress from the finded, no doubt, of Rachelle\'s young body. As the chilled blood slid down his throat, sticking and giving the inhuman warmth, Nikolai saw Rachelle\'s savior.

A handsome young thing with a painted face, this girl sparked something within him, something he couldn\'t quite put his finger on. There was something about her that he found so utterly intriguiging, something besides the apparel and hairstyle. And Nikolai found his eyes locked on her as he put down his glass and approached her.

"What\'s the problem, miss?" Another fake smile with tainted crimson lips.

[Harlequin]

The initial shock of discovery gave way to a rising sickness, and Morgaine put her arm out to steady herself against the wall in front of her, fearing her knees would buckle.

Back slumped, She panted heavily, head bowed so that her curtain of black hair obscured her tatooed, perspiring face. At the sound of a voice, however, she snapped upright. and jerked to face it\'s owner. Her feral, bright-eyed expression was the mask of someone caught unexpected in a moment of weakness.

The singer composed herself in a manner of seconds, answering his question with a snide aloofness, "Just a dead blonde," she said, as if it made sense to her that no more explanation was needed. She supposed, dully, that they must have cleaning crews for this sort of thing.

Once her mind focused on the interaction at hand, however, she became aware of Nikolai\'s predatory nature. She hastily composed her defenses, and pushed away her fear like a child rejecting a plate of vegetables.  An easy, devilish smile slipped across her features, "No problem here, officer," she joked.

[Saiketsu]

Nikolai smiled wide at this guarded woman; her position, her tone and temperment were amusing to say the least. We\'ve got ourselves a live one, here. That\'s good.

"Yeah, it\'s kinda sad really," he glanced down at Rachelle quickly with a feigned solemn expression. "I kind of knew her; she was a neighbor of mine. A bit of a whore though." And he continued to smile at this creature, so fresh before him.

"I heard her get into some kind of fight outside a few minutes ago over some guy named George. And now she\'s dead. Imagine that."

He stood closer to her now, as a result of both the throng of people and the heat of her blood pulsing under the flesh. "But enough about death; you seem kinda unstable. Can I get you something? A seat? A drink of some kind?"  

[Harlequin]

Morgaine watched him through increasingly narrowed eyes as he talked baout the dead girl. She could accept the fact that he\'d seen the blonde before, but the fact that he felt the need to tell the singer her whole damn life story seemed odd. She\'d read a book once about feminine intuition and related metaphysical bullshit.  It would\'ve called what he was doing right now \'overexplaining\', and it was a signal of danger.

But she was better than her basest instincts! She was punk-rock warrior-woman!

And this man, whoever he may be, was offering her free liquor. And, more importantly, a chance to discreetly move away from the grisly sight just behind the gauzy curtain.

She didn\'t reclaim her space, when he stepped ever-so-slightly closer "Stability is for wimps," She decided, finally, wiping most of the skepticism from her face, "Get me something hard." Truly a master of the single entendre, the dark-skinned vixen grinned salaciously, and brushed past Nikolai, making her way to the bar as if she didn\'t care whether he followed or not.

[Saiketsu]

He rather enjoyed her response and, intrigued, he strolled along after her, eying her strong frame. What an unexpected delight... a live wire!

For the second time that night, Nikolai approached the bar. Before he could place any form of demand for the young lady, the tender threw him a look which seemed to say "Buddy, you\'re in for it". He filled a shot glass with a chilled brown  liquor and slid it down the bar to him.

"It seems as if you\'re well-known around here. He\'s guessing your every move, it seems." The scent of the potent liquor permeating the little glass burned his nose, even without him too close. "Here," he offered yet kept a slight grip on the little glass. Nikolai smirked vaguely and his blood pulsed in his forehead and neck.

[Harlequin]

(sorry it took me so long; didn\'t see that you\'d posted.)

Morgaine grinned, blowing the bartender a sultry kiss, "Oh, Jerry, you always take such good care of me," she purred, and the large man behind the counter just shook his head, and muttered something that may have been a prayer under his breath. Morgaine snickered as he moved off to help the next freakshow.

The dark-skinned hurricane reached over for the glass, then, only to find resistance when she tried to take it from Nikolai\'s hands, "What, Are you gonna make me arm wrestle for it?" she teased, smirking.

[Saiketsu]

"I don\'t know, I haven\'t decided yet," he smiled deviously. "You might have to," and he pulled the drink more towards him. "After all, I don\'t believe I know your name yet."

Who the fuck cares? Something inside him -- something hungry -- growled. The music was throbbing, something fast and loud he couldn\'t recognize. His neck still felt raw and his head pulsing. Nick released the glass completely, still grinning.

[Harlequin]

The singer frowned, pushing out her bottom lip in a childish pout when he pulled the shot glass away. She looked at him through dark lashes, eyes wide and pleading until he let go. The coquettish act vanished the second he did, however – a triumphant grin spread across her tattooed face, and she cackled, eyes alight with glee as she pulled the prized object into the cradled safety of both of her small but skillful hands.

"I\'m the winner." Of what, she didn\'t say, but this is what she gave him by way of introduction, "Which is to say; you gave up first, which means you have to tell me your name, before you get to know mine." She raised her brows suggestively, grinning, before knocking the shot back with a practiced finesse. She slammed the glass back onto the bar with a satisfying thump.

[Saiketsu]

Nikolai was almost astounded. Almost.

He inhaled audibly. "Gee, it certainly seems as if I might have to spill my blood first, to get yours." The vampire looked away carefully, measuring out his tone and poise according to how he presumed she would act. She, however, as Nikolai was unequivocally noticing, quite unpredictable for a human. All his prey beforehand would have gushed right then and there. Not this one...

"However, there is always the option of getting you, in particular, incredibly wasted and allowing the words to flow." Nikolai smirked again, allowing nothing but the hunger to display in his eyes. Instead, the creature looked down the end of the bar again and whistled for the bartender, Jerry, who was working on this pair of girls who seemed to be far underage for such a violent club. Beggars can\'t be choosers, he mused. Again Jerry went to work in filling another little glass with some highly flammable substance and sliding it down the bar. This time, Nikolai removed his hand immediately.

"So what do you say?" He asked, leaning forward just a bit, leaning into her.

[Harlequin]

Morgaine raised a brow at his words, and her eyes took in his expression, and the way he turned his eyes away from hers. Interesting.

She placed a hand on the bar, catching the new shot without looking; instead, she kept her eyes on his face. She also leaned forward as her fingers closed around the little glass. This close, she was able to speak into his ear, "I say you\'re getting ahead of yourself," she purred, and, laughing, leaned back.

"I like it when my blood is inside my body," she said, shrugging and grinning, "Personal preference." Of course that\'s where his interest lay. She was attractive, and that\'s what humans were for, here. He\'d caught her off guard, with the dead girl.

"See?" She craned her neck to both sides, and showed him the undersides of both wrists; besides the raised scar tissue on her throat, the skin was pristine – "No biteys." Her arms dropped back onto the bar.

 "I only work here," she admitted, by way of apology, "Kind of. Sometimes," she added

[Saiketsu]

It took everything he had -- along witha look from Jerry, -- to keep from lunging at her as she revealed the virgin skin on her neck. He clenched his fists on the bar and grit his teeth together, the civil facade faltering. The thirst was taking control of him yet again, more powerfully.

But she says she works here... Nick threw a quick, irate glance over at the bartender. By the looks of things, she was telling the truth. Unfortunately for Nikolai he hardly fed without killing. What would happen if this little girl wound up dead in her place of employment? He chuckled to himself in an attempt to regain his composure.

"You work here?" His lips turned up somewhat, the green eyes narrowed and remained icily on the open skin of Morgaine\'s neck. That hungry thing inside of him raged; Nikolai inched closer almost involunteerily. "Now I\'m curious. What could a little girl like you be doing working in a club like this?" Using whatever control he had left, Nikolai shifted a piece of her hair off of her shoulder with a long pale finger as he spoke.

[Harlequin]

Nikolai could probably feel the pulse jump in her throat when he touched her, but the anxiety didn\'t show on her face – only the faintly devious grin. Her mind was screaming at her to run far, far away from this tattooed predator, but her only acknowledgment of the contact was to turn her head slightly, dark eyes flicking to his pale fingers before returning to his face, though his gaze was still fixed on her bare throat.

The hunger in that expression was terrifying, yet oddly thrilling.

Morgaine laughed off her fear. Her expression was smug – proud, even – as she explained, "Not exclusively," she told him, "I\'m in a band. We\'re not signed with the club, but they\'d be unhappy if anything were to happen to us."  The threat was implied; upper management was concerned enough with her welfare that steps would be taken to prevent her death (which explained the bartender\'s attention).

Morgaine and the rest of the band were, as it were, the Forbidden Fruit; and all the more desirable for it.

She knocked back the second shot – some kind of clear liquid, this time – and upended the glass next to it\'s companion. Savoring the warmth of the liquor spreading through her small body, the singer\'s eyelids fluttered and she ran her tongue over her full, faintly smiling lips, "They give me free booze," she confided, "I like that part a lot."

[Saiketsu]

"Well then, the establishment must be pleased that there\'s someone footing some kind of temporary bill then, giving them a break from a little punk-rock vixen bleeding them dry of potent liquors without paying a nickel.

"They must not be making much profit with you here," he concluded, finally taking his eyes away from the girl while finding a simple enjoyment in the double meaning of his statement. He spun around on the stool and faced the DJ, absorbing the thick pulse of whatever track was spinning at his table.

What are you going to do? He didn\'t need the blood, but he could feel it sitting so close to him, so taunting. But she was part of this place, if only loosely; he didn\'t need that kind of trouble. Nikolai inclined his head back towards her, glancing at the empty glasses then back up to her.

"So are you gonna tell me your name or do you need more to drink?" He pressed, close enough to smell the blood beneath the lucious dark skin.