Nothing could ever have prepared her for the hell her own words had dug her into. She wished she could leave, could do something other than watch as Axel sheathed his weapons in what looked almost like respect. This was the man who had taken him away from her so permanently, ended the man she knew and replaced him with something else. With a faint moan of pain, one which was almost exactly like one of the zombies in the Quarantine as they staggered and stumbled, Jessica lifted her sweater off, revealing something she wore under it that she wished Axel could see. A shirt he had left behind at the apartment.
Since she was sixteen, Jessica had had the tendancy to sleep unclothed, tucked into her blankets like a caterpillar awaiting its metamorphosis into a beautiful butterfly. Since Axel's disappearance, however, she found that she could not sleep the same way, not without him there. Then she'd found the shirt. It still smelled somewhat like him. Since finding the shirt, she only took it off to shower, putting clothes over it to keep the zombies from staining it.
Now, she was half-tempted to take the shirt off and burn it right there in the middle of the Quarantine. Or maybe put it through a paper shredder when she returned home. But she knew that she wouldn't. It was, perhaps, the curse of love. She couldn't automatically stop seeing Axel's face whenever she closed her eyes or wherever she looked in their apartment, simply because he was a vampire. No, it would need to be a slow shift from seeing him as human to seeing him as someone worth her love. Her love, and her heart, still belonged to him.
"Goddess, give me strength," she whispered, touching the stain of her own blood beside the wound in her arm with a single finger before sketching a pentacle into the air. Religion was rarely, if ever used for such selfish matters by the blonde. But this situation was an exception. She needed the emotional and mental fortitude of her goddess to endure this situation...and beyond.
***shirt apporved by Randall prior to posting***
Compulsive Truther Mystic Tease Banner by Pyper, mini by the player of Zoe
The bullet, fast and moving through his skin like butter, finally hits his femur. His face moves to contort and wince in pain before he looks up at his sire. The sheer force of the impact makes his leg to to a knee, and rest like that. That joint of his leg resting on the tattered carpet of this theater room, he looks down at the wound. From the wound a tiny maggot, seeming to be the only living one left, peeks from the abyss of the bleeding bullet hole. Though, Axel want’s to kill it, he doesn’t bother with it at the moment. Those two blue eyes look up at the man again, holding back any sound that would show pain. He moves his other knee to the ground, to get more comfortable, as he feels that death may be coming shortly. From the viewpoint of an outsider this could look hauntingly like a peasant bowing before a king, pleading forgiveness.
Trying to form the words in his mind into coherent thoughts, he knows that his sire is waiting for some explanation. He knows that when he had told his sire that he has come here to say his goodbyes that it wouldn’t be enough to quench the need for all the facts. “Jesse, I had been dating her for a month or two before you turned me, and broke off all communication until this night.” He takes a pause in his own words, making sure not to keep eye contact the whole time. It’s not that he’s lying, just knows that he’s in trouble, and that he doesn’t, in his mind, deserve to make eye-contact. Once his eyes are fixed on a point at the ground, just before his sire’s feet, he continues to talk. “I didn’t really want to meet her in person, but I had a feeling of guilt for keeping her in the dark, and felt that I should man up and break things off in person so she doesn’t continue to look for me.” His hands move to cover the wound, still keeping the pain from his voice as he speaks.
His nose sniffs and he turns his head in the direction that the woman had ran. Not saying anything yet, because it would be better if he didn’t tell his sire at the moment that she was still in the room. “I didn’t mean to miss her”, he has come to this conclusion, as if Jesse attacks her, then she should be attacked, “I didn’t expect such a fast movement from a wounded human. I shouldn’t have underestimated the Paladin.” He thinks for a moment and then starts to stand, before looking at his sire, “Though I may have another chance…” He pauses to nudge in the direction in which she had run. The young vampire leans in, moving slowly, making sure that it doesn’t appear to be an act of aggression. He whispers to his sire, one finger point in her direction, “She’s still in the building.”
He should probably feel bad for, at this point, selling someone that he had loved out. Now it’s more a question of his own survival, what she is and what he is just do not mix. His sire has made that clear, and he wants to show that he understands the lesson. The bullet to his leg, may hinder him a bit, but it’s more than enough reason for him to want to make this right. He doesn’t unsheath is blades yet.
-Fforde-
Nero's fingertips, like a noose around the neck
nimbly dancing till rubble is all that's left.
XIII
I stand my ground as Axel falls to his knees. It feels like an age that I wait for his explanation, and I stand over him with the gun still levelled upon him, aimed at the middle of his forehead. I stand with my feet spread shoulder length apart. My whole body is tense, irritability a cloak that I wear often, tight around my shoulders. I’ve drawn blood tonight, from both the scheming Paladin and from my childe. But there’s a beast inside of me telling me that it’s not enough. Not enough blood has been spilled to match the fury that I feel.
And then finally he speaks, and a shudder forces itself down my spine. As honourable as his explanation might be, it’s not the right one. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I did not impress thoroughly enough upon Axel’s psyche how much Paladins are the scum of the Earth. They are the germs beneath our feet, and they do not deserve our trust, or our honour. If I were a feeling man, maybe I would understand. Maybe Axel thought himself in love. Maybe the remnants of that emotion are still clinging to his unbeating heart. Still—I cannot forgive it. The Paladin does not deserve an explanation. And it does not help that Axel can’t look me in the eye. I want to tell him to stand up and be a ******* man. Though, that might mean that he’d be defending his actions. And then he would be a dead man.
He does have a point, though—probably best, that the scum doesn’t keep looking for him. And if she does continue to look for him after this large revelation, then it can only prove how fickle she really is. How wavering her loyalties.
What seems obvious, however, is that Axel’s loyalties aren’t wavering. He slowly starts to stand, and I move the point of the gun away. My fingers are still clenched tight around the hilt of the sword, however, ready to strike when necessary. Axel leans in, almost whispers. I glance in the direction that he points. She’s still in the building. There is a glimmer of pride, deep down. That he can tell that she is still there—something that I failed to do. But that pride is smothered. With a cold smirk, I perk a brow. I lift the gun and point it in the direction Axel had indicted. I **** my head twice, toward the Paladin.
If he’s so sorry, if he really means it, then I want him to go after her. I want him to kill her. I want him to be the one to deliver the final blow.
Jessica's heart pounded violently as she listened to Axel's words. She couldn't help the tears that began to pour from her hazel eyes, but she didn't even wipe at them. No. It didn't matter what she saw or heard. In her heart, she acknowledged one simple fact. That she would always be in love with Axel. It mattered not that she could not have him. He was the first man she'd fallen in love with, joining her high-school girlfriend in her heart and memory forever.
Every moment she'd shared with him passed through her consciousness in the blink of an eye. The first time they'd met up, at the Kit Kat Club. Going to his house afterwards. Dancing for him. The tattoo expo. Taking him along to dance for Tiamat. The apartment and all its little quirks. The air mattress that she still slept on. The shirt she'd found. The notebooks scattered everywhere. All of the normally insignificant things that made their relationship theirs.
She wondered if he knew that sometimes, while he'd slept, she had woken up and traced his tattoos and committed every inch of his skin to memory, repeating the process over and over until she fell asleep once more across his chest. Probably not. The relationship was not exactly the picturesque romance of film and novels past, but it was good enough for her. She enjoyed it. She would treasure the memories forever.
As she watched, trying to hold back a sob, Jesse raised his gun and gave Axel what looked like orders to take her. A soft gasp escaped - perhaps the word "no" - and she took off like a rocket through the Multiplex doors, almost falling as she broke into the night. If she went to the sewers, she could have backup, from friends and strangers alike, people to watch her back as she went into the city itself. But she would be risking their lives; this wasn't something she would accept. Her eyes traveled from building to building, trying to find a place to hide or escape that didn't involve the sewers. She had to act fast, or she was dead.
Half a second passed before she made her choice, turning, moving around the Multiplex and running flat-out for the river that bordered the Quarantine Zone on the North edge. She would swim across or she would drown. She would not fall to vampires. Not even to the one that had been Axel.
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From kneeling before the man that had turned him into a vampire a month or so ago, he slowly stands to his feet and looks toward the place that is indicated to him. There is no doubt in his mind what is expected of him to be done. The nod, twice, is obviously some sort of order for him to go and get her, not let her expel another breath from her lungs. The two blades at his sides come to life, making a noise as they are removed from their scabbards. Like silver sheen lightning the blades bite at the air and then he practically sprints down the corridor. One blade is out behind his back, almost dragging the ground and the other blade is in front of his form being held upside down. The off hand blade, far shorter than the mainhand one that dangles to the ground. When he comes halfway into the hallway, the stench of fear and human blood is weak. It is almost as if the Paladin has fled the scene.
Only as he reaches the main door of the Multiplex does he realize that the paladin has actually left the building altogether. Peeking his head out of the threshold of the doorway, he looks out into the surrounding area, checking to see if she’s around. The smell of blood is weaker out here in the ruined streets of the quarantined zone. Turning his head back to look into the Multiplex, he closes the door behind him and takes a breath. The feeling of failure comes over him for a moment. At this point, he would accept another shot to the other leg, the pain he has mildly forgot about. He would even be okay with any sort of slice with the sword, because of his failure to the man. “Jesse, she has escaped the building”, his voice isn’t really pleading but there is obviously an emotion under the tone. It’s obvious that he’s sorry that the woman has gotten away from him before he got the chance to get to her.
“I apologize.” His mouth remains ajar as he tries to find a solution for this himself, but he’s sure that his sire may have some sort of action to take for this. He moves toward the door, and waits to open it for the man that has turned him into a vampire. The feeling that this life gives is unlike any other, the power, the camaraderie, the immortality. The idea of failing the person that gave this to him is making him feel smaller than he had a moment ago when he had been knelt down before the man. “How should I, or we, proceed with the hunt?” The matter is that she could be in the massive maze of the sewer systems that he has to take to make his way to the fenced in area. Hand on the door, he looks to Jesse to see if he is coming.
-Fforde-
Nero's fingertips, like a noose around the neck
nimbly dancing till rubble is all that's left.
XIII
It really is a wonder. I watch as Axel sprints down the corridor, following my silent command. His weapons are drawn, sharp, shiny blades ready to slide through unwilling flesh. I follow after Axel, slowly, my weapons still grasped firmly in my hands, though I hold them loose—neither offensive nor defensive. Instead, I trod a pensive step. Though I’m certain that my mouth is set in a straight line and there’s probably still a fiery gleam to my eyes, my fury has ebbed. No, now I am far more curious than furious.
I remember the sessions I spent with Axel. He was human, I was vampire, and I could not speak. But he would tell me about his life—bits and pieces, dribs and drabs. I’d put the pieces together, given what I could remember from past sessions. He’d told me about Jessica. They had to have been together a few months. And I have to wonder—I thought I knew Axel, at least a little. But now—what kind of man is it that I have spawned? Was he somehow leeched of all his emotions upon turning? That he would do as I say even though, surely, he must have some reservations?
This is a girl that he once shared a bed with. Even if he never loved her (because what is love, really? Does it even exist?) he must have spent a lot of his time with her. To call themselves a couple, there requires a certain amount of care and loyalty. And yet here, in this past fifteen minutes, he’s dropped everything. He’s gone after her, to kill her, because I have commanded it of him. Is it really going to be that easy for him to land that final, fatal blow?
I think I have something resembling an answer when I reach the exit. There’s Axel, his face drawn, his tone coloured with regret and shame. She got away. He did not catch up, he did not kill her. Although he’s waiting for me, holding the door open for me, for half a minute I do not move. I stare at him, narrow my eyes, trying to see past that veneer of a face. Is it, really, that he tried and failed? Or is there something deep down that him failing on purpose? Allowing her to get away because killing her isn’t something that he’s willing to do?
I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. Finally, I step past Axel, allowing the door to the multiplex to swing shut behind us. I lift my chin to the cool breeze that blows through the Quarantine Zone – upon it, I can smell blood, both dead and alive. Both fresh and stale. I can smell rotting meat. But I can also smell the freshness of the grass, of the dew that’s settled upon the cracked and broken pavement. It’s quiet in here. There’s no hum of electricity. It might be nice, if it weren’t for the hoardes of undead ready to chew the flesh from your bones, should you let them.
I glance once more at Axel. I push the tip of my blade against his shoulder—it doesn’t even break through the fabric of his shirt. My brow rises, and I nudge a little harder. It’s not we who need to do anything. The ball is in his court, now. This will be his hunt. Maybe I’ll trust him, regardless. Maybe I believe that he’s truly ashamed that he did not catch Jessica. But I’ll have him assume that I will not fully trust him until he brings me that girl’s head on a silver platter.
I sheath my blade and push the gun back into its holster. I turn away from Axel, then, and reach into my pocket. I retrieve a battered, but still serviceable tome. I focus on it—my lips moves with the words on the page, though I make no sound beyond a sussurance of breath. And then I am gone—fractured into millions of tiny particles, headed through the aether, back to the Eyrie.
