1262 A.D. I was relaxing on my throne, my cloaks billowing in soft folds around my feet, chin propped up in the palm of my hand as I stared boredly at my court. You'd think for the creatures of the night, they would be a bit more…lively. No fights had broken out in nearly a week and I was growing restless, anticipating that there was going to be one soon, maybe tonight. That would certainly alleviate my boredom. I ignored the chatter around me, waving off those who wished to converse with him with a flick of his wrist and a fang-bearing snarl. I did not wish for idle chatter, not while nerves ran tight. I could sense it, something formidable in the air. Coming my way at last. I felt the corners of my mouth tilt up in a gruesome smirk when the doors of the throne room flew open and the bodies of guards fell in, some headless, some still writhing in agony after their hearts had been cut out. As they turned to ash in final death, a figure stepped out of the plume of darkness and rising dust. The figure stepped into the throne room and the courtiers backed away, on their guard but unnerved all the same. So this wasn't a vampire, come to make a scene. It hadn't been invited inside and yet, here it was. But no human could possibly get past his defenses, he thought, idly toying with a lock of his midnight hair. I tilted my head and smiled wider, finally catching the scent of my uninvited guest. It was a dark scent, musky and wild and tangy on my taste buds as I breathed it in. The smell of wet fur and dried blood were what he identified next and, struck by curiosity, I motioned to the being to come closer. It obeyed, the courtiers splitting before it like frightened sheep, some covering their noses against the pungent smell of dog that all but radiated off of the creature that passed them. It stepped into the light of an overhead torch, the firelight beaming down on a young, beautiful face, utterly flawless and noble but for a scar across his right eye. A high brow, sharp cheekbones and proud lips set on the pale, oval face…the boy couldn't possibly be human! My eyes caught him in my survey, bearing down at him with such an intensity it shivered probably of excitement. Gold. His eyes were gold. A werewolf…the eyes told me before I had even noticed the soft ears settled on the boy's head and the long, bushy tail that swung lazily between his legs. I sat up in my throne and smiled darkly at the boy-wolf in front of me. We looked like two different ends of a spectrum finally meeting at one point in between. I was dressed in dark red and black and silver robes, lavished in finery while the werewolf was in peasant garb, mail and a pair of rough boots, a sword hanging naked in his hand. We held one another's gaze for some time, neither giving in nor looking away. Intrigued, I finally asked, "What brings you to my court, Werewolf?" "I have come to kill you," was the honest reply, the rough voice spilling strangely from his lips, heavily accented. I laughed, the eerie sound of it echoing off of the smooth stone walls. The courtiers seemed affronted and the werewolf did not react at all, probably having expected this. "You do not fear me?" I asked, having recovered from my mad laughter. "You are no better than the human swine you slaughter," the werewolf said flatly, readying his blade. The guards stationed around the room almost advanced but I held my hand up to stop them, suddenly serious. In a flash of movement, a confusing billow of capes I appeared behind the werewolf, a hand wrapped around his throat while the other quickly disarmed him. He sniffed the exposed neck of the werebeing and let out a low purr. "What would you do to kill me?" I asked nosing the boy's earlobe just to enjoy the shutter of disgust he felt within the slender body I had captured, the barely contained rage that all werebeings were famous for. "Anything," the boy spat, trying to clutch tighter onto his sword even as he felt a thumb press into a joint and pop it out of place, rendering his hand useless. He bit back a howl of pain, clenching his teeth tightly together and not making a sound as he distantly heard the crack of a broken wrist and the clatter of his sword hitting the marble floor. "Would you sell your soul?" I asked, pleased that the werewolf was bearing my torture with some semblance of pride, even as I felt the pain roll off of the werewolf like a cold sweat. He savored it, drank it in and wanted more. "I have none to sell." The wolf-boy was looking faint suddenly as the hand around his throat was tightening. He could do nothing about it, though, even though one of his hands was free. The voice had captured him as securely as a snake was captured by the eyes of its charmer. He was as helpless as a cobra, entranced only as long as contact was kept. I let a low purr emanate from my chest as I held him fast. "Then I shall have your heart," I whispered. The werewolf felt something prod into his mind, something sharp, searching, testing, but for what, he did not know. He felt it sink painfully deeper into his consciousness, jamming into what had to be his spine before pulling away and leaving something behind, like a thorn in his thumb. He felt the hand on his throat slide across his chest and rest above his heart, feeling its flurry of pulses. Bump ? Scared yet?
I let out a soft laugh and sunk my fingernails into the flesh below, bypassing the chain mail and leather armor as if it were paper, reaching in, deeper and deeper, into what felt like his innermost being before stopping, gently clutching at the beating organ there. The werewolf was crying silent tears of pain and biting his lower lip so hard it was bleeding but refused to so much as whimper, even as he felt a jerk, a twisting and a final wrench as I pulled out his heart, holding it tightly in my hand. The world was darkening for the werewolf, senses were overloaded with such terrible pain that he could no longer stand on his own and sagging against the monster that held him even as it feasted on his most precious donator of life. Surely he only had a few moments left to live, he pondered as what felt like minutes came and went without his own passing into the other world. What was happening? Why wasn't he dead? And then he finally felt a cold wash of sleepiness envelop him and he gratefully sank into it as one would sink into a hot bath on a chilly night, seeking the comfort of unconsciousness and shutting his eyes against the horrors of the vampiric court . And yet, he felt a tugging at the thorn in the back of his mind, as if a string were attached and wanting attention. Words echoed in the darkness of his delirious mind, in a surreal purr of a voice he could not recognize. He did not address the words. He wasn't even sure he'd heard them at all. He sank further into blackness until he heard and felt and thought nothing more. /You are mine this night and all the nights forthwith. Forget not my kindness, pet, and pay your debt in full./ Bump? Team vampire Team wolf