Once Upon a Midnight Dreary [Azraeth]

[Andrew Belanger (DELETED 5843)]

Andrew stood still, relaxed, as the huge white serpent wound around him. For whatever reason, he did little more than let his fingers idly run over the smooth scales as she slithered her way around his waist. Snakes didn't bother him; they never had. Though he could not know Azraeth's thoughts, he considered them in much the same light - symbols of rebirth, immortality... an escape from certain death. And yet, where he might have touched any other snake, guided it or moved it about so it did not drape so around his entire tall frame, this felt... different. An unmistakable feeling of safety wrapped around him like a soft blanket, easing the remnants of fear and desire to be away from this place as soon as possible, lulling him into a sense of security, false or no.

And even then, even as Azraeth began to speak, to tell him a fantastic, almost unbelievable tale, he felt nothing but peace in the midst of his churning thoughts. His eyes widened at the flowing words - rumors had been rife in the City for years now about the undead who walked among the living, whispering that they were behind the strange, tattooed fanatics, the weirdos who walked the streets late at night with obvious weapons attached to their hips and elsewhere. Even, it was said, behind the increase in a governmental presence the likes of which had never been seen before in the small city, with the sealing of the Mausoleum, and the appearance of the Quarantine Zone. Some of his friends had snuck into both places, and the ones who came back mostly unscathed reported the same thing - roaming creatures that had him, and them, wondering if they lived amongst a real life Walking Dead episode. Andrew had never been so inclined to visit the Maus after it had been sealed - it wouldn't do to get stuck there. **** that. But the Quarantine... he'd seen some of what they were talking about, and scoffed a bit at the oft-spoken party line - 'sick people.'

Right.

And now, as the man - the supposed vampire - turned back toward him, Andrew remained still and allowed him to continue, uninterrupted. After all, what could he possibly say? But Azraeth wanted a response, as surely as that tap to the chin was real, and not imagined.

"Safe. No. Not in the sense of 'eternal,' as you say." He cleared his throat, fingers still resting lightly on the beautiful snake, drawing more of that same sense of peace from her. He considered being untruthful, whether by omission or outright lie, but decided that that somehow wouldn't fly with this odd man. "I've long... long feared death, and dying," he said simply, unwilling, at least for the time, to go into greater detail. "I'm not eternal in any of those ways, and I'm no vampire."

He fell silent for a long moment, considering the rest of his reply.

"I feel generally safe in this moment, yes, foolish or not as it might be... considering everything you've had to say. Helped along by your snake... she's very soothing, in her way."

[Azraeth]

Azraeth had been told before that he had a calming effect on people. In person at least. A large part of that was due to his quiet and observant nature. He was a man that had the ability to sit back and listen to any of a person’s problems and offer up objective, but fair solutions. That had been a big part of why he had become a mediator to begin with – he liked to learn about people, about the things that they felt were important. He enjoyed giving people those things. But most importantly, he had found that most people who took issue with a situation just wanted someone to talk to. They felt helpless or hopeless, and like nobody cared. Az understood that the greatest gift he had was his ability to care.

It had been the strength in his step when the hubris of his early popularity had worn thin.

A lot had changed in three years.

“She does that.” He commented, as he contemplated how to tackle the next part of the conversation. He settled on the straight forward approach, as that had worked up until that point. So he let his hand find the boy’s shoulder, his thumb pressed against a collarbone, as fingers curled into a bony frame. “We should sit down for the rest of this.” And with that, he turned on his heel to slip off towards the library. Since having gained the ability to walk in the shadow lands, he had all but stopped returning to the Temple’s lower sanctum. Circe, his meditation chamber, had lost its appeal at that point because he enjoyed the real thing.

‘Enjoyed’ was a strong word. He loved the purity of the shadows and the greyscale darkness.

There was a sofa with an antique gramophone to one side of it, and books scattered everywhere. There was also a layer of dust, that said it had been largely unused. As the dragons had lain dormant, so too had their lair it seemed. In that moment, he called upon the strength of those whose feet had fallen into the same place his own had before. He called upon the power of the dragons that had come and gone, whose souls still languished in the fade or beyond. The bloodline might have dwindled in number, but those people – they were still there. At the back of his mind, buried somewhere in his heart. It was they that empowered him.

Some of them had been his own childer.

“I want to grant you an opportunity, Andreas. I want to let you walk the path of vampire with me. But to do so, you will need to take many steps on your own. I can take you to the gates of death and show you off on the journey that leads through. I can hope and pray over your still body as you venture into the unknown, and I can wait for you on the other side. But it will not be easy. You will lose yourself if you take the gift of immortality I want to offer you. You will, out of necessity, need to cut your ties with your past life.” His eyes slid shut for a moment as he breathed. He was dumping a lot on the other man, a lot of words, a lot of responsibility. He could only hope that the omens had been right. He refused to fail another of his progeny.

“The alternative is to make this your tomb, Andreas. You see, you know what I am. By the laws of our people, I should never have let that happen. So you may choose this moment to die or to return from death. I give you this option because if you do become a vampire, it is no small thing, the bond we will share. You will take part of my soul, part of my darkness and part of my light, and that is the spark that will animate you. It is not just a physical act to become what we are. It is a matter of spirit and mind and energy. Come with me along this path that leads into the wild, and I will stand by your side forever after. But only make that commitment if you can handle its consequences. Come with me and I will show you the way.”

[Andrew Belanger (DELETED 5843)]

Andrew felt his eyes slide closed at the tight clasp on his shoulder, the one that lead him, whether it remained or not, to follow after the man without much prior thought. His eyes slipped back open as his feet mindlessly moved him to what looked to be a study or library - books, a sofa, and all sorts of knickknacks were about, not to mention the heavy layer of dust that covered every surface. The place hadn't been touched in a very long time, it would seem, but the thing that struck him, more than anything else, was how dark it seemed to his own eyes. The other moved about as if he could see perfectly, as if the place was flooded with light, while Andrew made his way slowly, letting his eyes adjust and carefully stepping so he didn't stumble. And if Andrew had been doubting, in that moment, the veracity of the man's tale and of his claims of being a vampire, it occurred to him just then that he didn't know of any humans who could see so well in the dark.

Still, Andrew didn't doubt and as he did as suggested and took a seat upon that dusty old couch, the snake moving like silk to adjust herself all the while, he listened to each and every word with no more on the surface than a detached sort of attitude.

He had almost certainly known he was in trouble - sensed it in his subconscious, even if his instincts hadn't been trying to shove him out the door - from the moment he saw the blood and those spirits were released and consumed. And yet, like a moth to a flame, something had kept him. Something had made him stay, made him want to learn everything he could, despite the fact that all of it should have terrified him.

Maybe he'd always known, from the moment he'd met Azraeth, that death - one way or the other - was in the offing.

Yet Andrew was strangely unafraid - something that initially shocked him perhaps more than the two options before him, until he began to realize how very, very tired he was of always being afraid. If anything, such a conundrum was a relief, the previously unknown tonic to tortured, shredded nerves. No choice but to die. And as he turned the coin over and over in his mind, considering each side of the impossible question, he realized he'd gone very, very still. Death was inevitable, because there was no other way out - this thought came with an almost surprised sort of clarity. The man had seen to that, and Andrew, stupidly, had followed. Though something told him, as it had earlier in the evening, that if he had simply tried to run for it, Azraeth would have had little trouble tracking him down and simply killing him without offering an alternative at all.

He swallowed, then turned to look the other male up and down before his gaze settled upon his face. "What do you mean, lose myself?" he finally asked, curious to know more. Cutting away his life wouldn't be too difficult, he supposed... at least, until his thoughts turned to his eccentric but beloved parents, to Beca. They were part of his life, in a more important way than anything else. But what was the alternative? Dying this young still terrified him in the abstract - the not knowing, the seeming blackness of the end... and he supposed simply turning up dead would be worse for his family, too.

He sat back a little, careful of the serpent, and seemed to almost casually survey the room and all within before he looked to the male again. His mind churned as his thoughts swirled. He could still make it work, of course he could. Maybe he'd end up as weird as this guy before him and the issue of his family would take care of itself. Or maybe he'd be himself, same old Andrew, and somehow still keep them - though at an arms' length - part of his life. Either way, he wasn't about to promise more than the vague acknowledgement that cutting it all away was to be the goal, but would wisely keep his mouth shut as to the other things floating about his brain.

Because the simple bottom line was, he was too young to die. Too young to find out what, if anything, came after. If he had to go through hell to win immortality and stay on the so-far lousy amusement park ride that was life, then so be it.

And so, with his gaze trained on the other, not waiting for much in the way of a reply, he finally gave his answer:


"Alright. Do it. Make me a vampire."

[Azraeth]

Andrew had taken to the offered seat first, where Az had remained standing for a moment whilst talking. The vampire could almost feel the mortal behind him. Not…feel, but he could sense the man on the periphery of his vision while he delivered what was admittedly something of a long-winded speech. But that had always been one of Azraeth’s traits. He had a love for language that often made him verbose, and a love for helping people that tended to make him come across as lecturing. The image he presented was not in any way aided by his choice in clothing, which generally came across as stuffy and repressed.

He eventually did sit, though. He liked to have motion when he talked, because he communicated with his voice, his hands, his body language. Or not at all. But there was something human about things like hand gestures to convey feeling and emotion. He ended up tucking himself against the arm of the sofa, eyes on Andrew as he rested his back to the plush cushion, one leg crossed over the other at the knee, both of them resting against the edge of the seat – digging into it really because he had positioned himself so that he could face the other man. It was really a lot more casual a setting than one might have hoped for given the circumstance.

The question caught him off guard, though it shouldn’t have. He wasn’t sure how exactly to explain what was in his head as it pertained to that topic, because his mind immediately searched for those he had turned years before. Andrei had killed his grandparents, and become a true killer as a vampire, a creature devoid almost entirely of emotion. The two of them had grown up together, and Az could attest to just how deeply the Russian born man could feel when he truly wanted to. “When you become what I am, the most prominent aspects of your personality become heightened, stronger, deeper. If you are a person that hates, you will find that hate to be absolutely and totally consuming. Or you may become detached from your feelings entirely.” Asher was the perfect example of what happened when traits that could have been good, when taken to excess, went bad.

The Allurist had once been a member of a police force, and Az had turned him in an attempt to save his life, after watching him for a short while. What Raeth had not known was that the man had been corrupt, and that corruption had filtered itself over into the things that Az had loved about him. His heroism had turned into egocentrism, his kindness had turned into a need to manipulate the people around him, and his sense of leadership had turned into a need to be controlling. Those things that had once been strengths became weaknesses, that had ultimately destroyed the vampire time and again. Turning him had been one of Raeth’s few true regrets.

It had given him pause in siring others.

Thankfully, Magog was more decisive than Raeth.

But then it was time, time to step into the darkness with Andrew. He probably could have taken time to explain the process a little better. You see, the other man needed to be bled out, and then he needed to be fed from the fount of Az’s own existence. The power that animated Azraeth would, in turn, animate the other man, assuming he was able to survive the transition from human to immortal. It was much the way the vampire had originally proposed it. He could walk with the other man to the door of death and see him through, but after that, there was a journey that only Andreas could walk on his own. At least until he came back.

He looked into the youth’s eyes; it was the last time they would be so human. He moved immediately, like a serpent striking its prey. One second, he was coiled into the corner of a couch, and the next, he had his fangs in a throat, but he didn’t just puncture in the way that one might have if one were trying to feed. He worked his jaw to tear open blood vessels. One hand laid on a cheek, the other on shoulder. It was a violent way to go, but that was the life that Andrew was walking into. A violent and a dangerous one. Az would love him. Az would worship him, when he rose again. That was what it meant to be one of his childer. To be worshipped. But that switch had not been flipped yet.

Blood flowed into his mouth, down his chin, over his neck to stain his clothing red and recolour the sofa beneath them. He drank it down, but there was so much, so much more than he could have ever hoped to drink in one sitting unless he’d been working his magic for a while. It didn’t help that he had fed just earlier, and despite how ravenous he had been, full was full. It was a waste of precious life. A necessary waste, because of the crossroads they were at, the other way would have been more cruel.

He only pulled away when the spurt of hot red began to slow. It made his clothes stick to his skin, and drenched the both of them. He didn’t look at it as the ruination of the beautiful boy he saw in Andrew, but a metamorphosis. Maybe that was all death really was to Az, a cocoon. Still those already pale features seemed, in the vampire’s mind, to be going more pallid by the moment. Az lifted his hand so that he could rip open his own wrist, and then he stuffed it against the other’s lips, smears of the human’s blood there as well, stark against his flesh. “Drink down your first taste of vampirism and take from me the key you will need to get through the gates. Leave me, Andreas, and then return with your immortality clutched in your arms.”

[Andrew Belanger (DELETED 5843)]

He'd been holding his breath, the seconds ticking away slowly, as if they were hours and not made up of the blinks of an eye, or the steady drum of a heartbeat.

The terror flowing through him was stemmed only by the thought, the trust that he'd somehow imbued in this man and his snake, that he would come back. He had to, right? How could it go any differently? As his icey blue gaze locked on to the other man's, to the strange, beast-like slits of dark pupils, he suddenly wondered if his own would look like that, or if the man's odd form of magic had somehow locked his soul with that of the white serpent still draped around him. But he had no time to really think more on that, or allow himself the momentary pause to even ask because without warning, quicker than he could register that the man had moved, an exquisite pain stole away his voice, his very breath, before his lips had even parted.

Instead of words, a muted cry of pain left him - the sensation was strangely crushing and had surprised him, even though he knew it would happen soon. He knew it would go like this, it was almost a cliche, really... but as Azraeth held him just so, working at his flesh, tearing into blood vessels and quickly siphoning his life away, he felt his eyes squeeze tightly shut, trying instinctively to block it out. He wanted to struggle, in the way that any cornered animal might do, to try and flee after all, but the rational part of his mind knew it was simply too late for such a foolish thing as that. Instead, his fingers dug into the other man's arms, clinging tightly as he tried for all he was worth to breathe through the worst of the pain, to keep his mind working and focusing on exactly what he needed to do.

The specifics of that were yet unknown, but one word stayed sharp and present within the young human's mind: Survive. He knew his body had to die, and he tried hard to let himself be still and let his rasping breathing come to a steady halt, to let his heart slow to nothing, even though it was clear his body wanted to live. He didn't know anything about what was coming, how he would be, how his life would end up, such as it was. Would something as simple as eating or drinking be a thing of the past, or even the embrace of another? Would his body be the same, or would there be some fundamental difference? And what of his mind? Azraeth had said things would change, but what would those things be? And as the last of his final breath expelled from his clenched teeth, he mentally kicked himself for so readily accepting this stunted deal without first getting as many details as he could. Unprepared, but then, that was him.

Soon enough, though, the panic in his head even faded away to a dull buzz as nothing but silky blackness enveloped him, leaving him in a vacuum where he could hear only his own thoughts and that same, steady word whispering back at him, over and over. Survive. The phantom taste of salty sweetness was wet upon his lips, but that was somewhere else, some detached part of himself he could no longer sense with full clarity. He couldn't see, exactly, but that was alright; the sensation of things was still around him in the dark place and he could sense the presence of the other still somewhere close. He didn't know it then, that it was merely a spiritual closeness, as his would-be Sire's essence stayed near, but the idea of it flitted about his head as he finally stood and felt the darkness part as he took his first steps forward.

Some sort of energy surrounded his tall frame, humming around him like electricity in the phantom form of that gorgeous serpent and as he absorbed every bit of it, he could feel an odd strength filling every part of him. An even deeper darkness touched every corner of his soul and it wasn't long before he felt the energy moving again as it morphed into the form of a key, held loosely between trembling fingers that he could feel more than see. A sudden realization hit him that it wasn't fear that had him shaking for once, but the overwhelming power taking over his form, thrilling him with the unknown, sensational journey had had undertaken. He turned and there, just ahead of him, stood the gates he had heard Az whisper about, from somewhere very far away.

As he stepped through, he felt his Sire's presence fall away from him. A momentary terror filled him up until he heard the word again - Survive - and he knew he had to do this part on his own. Knew, somehow, that only he could pull himself from this darkened landscape of death and push through to the other side. And so, with conviction filling him to the very brim, he took what seemed to be a deep breath, and kept walking.

=----------------=

He couldn't know how much time passed, not by a long shot, but as his tongue swept over his lips, he felt it catch on a sharpened point and a gasp flew past to rattle in the back of his throat. A sweet tasting liquid filled his mouth and, as his eyelids cracked open, blue gaze filled with hazy shapes made up of equal parts reality and fantasy, he drew a deep, shuddering breath. Pupils had shifted to match those of his Sire, even if he couldn't know that just yet, and a pale visage had grown more pallid still. Yet he felt the rush of life flowing through him, different than blood flowing in his veins, but a semblance of life all the same. Somehow, he knew, he had made it to the other side, though how long it had taken and where his physical form had ended up, he did not know.

He drew another breath, still unable to help himself, before he thought to try out his voice to ask a question, not knowing if he was alone or if the strange man was still beside him:

"Where... where am I now?"

It was only to be the first of what, he was certain, would be many.