Crash [ Nishaa ]

[Thorne (DELETED 7278)]

Randall Thorne had always prided himself on being a fast learner. The key to success in any situation was to let your mind adapt to accept established parameters, and then see how to work outside them. Too often, people tried to fit those parameters inside of their own experience, and thus slowed the whole process down trying to clarify everything. In other words, sometimes shoot first and ask questions later really was the best strategy. It was a strategy that Thorne employed now.

THREE!”

He had listened carefully as Nishaa Andras, the woman who had turned him into a vampire, had explained the situation. He had allowed her to spin him and push him the direction she wanted him to go. And now it was off to the races! Though he was taking the threat of this "fae" seriously (What's a fae? It doesn't matter! RUN!), Thorne couldn't help enjoying his first opportunity to stretch his legs as a vampire. He had always prided himself on his strict regimen of daily exercise. He ate right. Did cardio. He believed it was half the reason he had gone toe to toe with so many gangsters and survived. The criminal mindset just didn't understand the discipline it took to maintain a physique like his. All that junk food and beer and coke and pot (though he did enjoy a good snort now and then), well, it took the edge off your game. And Thorne valued his edge. He valued it very highly. He hoped it would be enough right now.

The snarling and snapping of the beast seemed to be getting closer and closer with each step. He would not make the rookie mistake of turning to look. Eyes on the prize. Nishaa said to head for the streetlights. He was not going to slow down the process by conjecturing why that would somehow stop the raging animal that was currently snapping at his heels from tearing his throat out. He would have to simply take her word for it. Accept the parameters now; question them later. Still, he swore he could feel the big fae's breath on his neck. "Doesn't this town have any leash laws?" he yelled as he pumped his legs furiously.

And then, he was across the finish line. He had made it! He ran past the street light. He ran across the quiet city street. And right into a wall. Thorne had been controlling his "breathing" the whole time he was running, not thinking about the fact that he no longer needed to breath. Something other than oxygen was now fueling his legs and muscles. It was the power of his vampire blood. And for a freshly turned vampire of the killer path. that was a powerful rush indeed. The only problem being, not knowing how to stop in time.

The wall of was a sturdy thing, made of brick and mortar. It was one side of an old factory, possibly abandoned, that sat on the outskirts of town. Thorne was doing close to forty miles per hour when he hit it. The problem with having heightened senses was feeling every thing much more clearly and intensely. Like the grain of the rough bricks as they squashed his face. Thorne's body rebounded off the brick building with a thud and a spray of blood. He landed on his back on the pavement, staring straight up at the ghostly halogen glow of the street light. The bottom half of his face was a bandido's mask of blood. "**** me! I think I broke my nose!" he groaned.

[Nishaa]

She had spun on her own heels to peer at the Fae briefly, she did the very thing she had told Randell not to do, she had told him not to look back and she had done just that. She could see the beast's jaw was wide open, teeth bared - with saliva oozing from the top lip. The palms of her hands pushed against his back urging him to run faster, and he did. His speed was perhaps just as quick as she was - when she wasn’t trying to be the hero in this situation by trying to be the one the wolf - fae - creature, would attack first.

Nishaa hated responsibility.

****, ****, Fuckitty ****!

Words left the man’s mouth then as they ran, asking if they had any leash laws and she found herself laughing. Her voice was steady as if the running didn’t affect it at all and it didn’t. Vampire’s didn’t need to breathe. She wasn’t out of breath. "Not for Fae no, it’s a supernatural creature. It was made for hating vampires.” She shrugged her shoulders as she began to run faster now - knowing there was now a firm gap between them and the beast, the street lights were visible in the distance. They had to keep pumping their legs a little more and they would be free of the wilderness and the fae, they were not able to leave the confines of the wilderness.

Randall was across the threshold, and upon the cement of the floor but he didn’t stop, no he carried on across the street until his body - mostly his face collided with the brick wall. She could hear the crunch and then a snap and then he was propelled backwards his back and *** hitting the floor, his nose was drenched in blood. Nishaa who had now come to a halt was staring at him with an amused gaze.

Rookie.

She turned to look at the wilderness. The wolf was pacing at it’s edge afraid to step over the line, before retreating back into it’s territory leaving Nishaa and her new found childe away from its clutches. ”You’re an idiot.” Was all that left her mouth before laughing. She stood above him, staring down at him with her dark orbs before offering him her hand. Least she could do, right?

”Are you hungry?” She found herself asking him next. As she stared down at him, considering he had just had a rush from the running she was sure his body was aching from the pain of the turning - she knew the next thing to kick in would be his hunger. It was always so euphoric when you fed for the first time, the intense feeling of having someone’s life in the palm of your hands. Nishaa had a cruel smile upon her lips.

[Thorne (DELETED 7278)]

”Are you hungry?”

**** he was hungry! The rush of of the turning was quickly being overtaken by his body's need for fresh blood, especially now that his own blood was gushing down his face. He had, after all, not yet even ingested vampire blood, due to the unusual circumstances of his turning.

"Yes I am. Incredibly hungry. Does that mean I need to drink... blood?." The idea was actually less appalling than one might think. He had seen his fair share of blood, mostly spilled by him, as a human. He was by no means squeamish at the thought. I'm fact it really made perfect sense. The blood is the life and all that. Why bother with ingesting flesh? Cut out the middle man.

Thorne jumped to his feet. Though the blood from his nose still stained his face as it began drying and congealing into a crusty mask, he could feel his body already healing from any other aches and pains caused by his high velocity impact with the brick wall. He felt damn good as matter of fact. Then he doubled over in hunger, as it ripped through both his body and his mind like a chainsaw. He snarled and gritted his teeth. He could feel the two newest additions to the landscape of his mouth, his fangs, extending in anticipation of the feed he desperately needed.

"I'm ready, he grunted. "Let's find someone to eat."

[Nishaa]

He asked if that meant he had to drink blood, and she felt the need to facepalm. Of course it did. She shook her head, tresses of dark hair caressed her pale features before pulling it together. She was going to make something of this childe. He showed promise, despite the way he was turned. He was essentially a mistake, but mistakes could be good. She wasn’t out of the woods yet either, far from it. She watched him double over, and it was set in stone then. She would have to find someone for him to feed on. She ignored anything else he had said. She grabbed his shoulder and shoved him forward onto the streets.

”I will find you someone.” She told him. She pointed a finger at him. ”Once you’ve fed, we are then going to talk about something called the Masquerade, something I firmly believe in, a vampire law so to speak.” She let the conversation end there. She would teach him about the masquerade, the do’s and don’ts and hopefully he won’t end up on the list, because that just wouldn’t be an embarrassment to him, but to her as well. Considering she’s a bounty hunter. She would have to hunt her childe and kill him.

”This way.” She veered down onto Cherrydale, she could see the Eyrie in the distance. It was a comforting sight for the Necromancer as she scanned the humans that walked by, she stole a glance at Thorne. He looked like someone who would enjoy a woman’s company. So perhaps a redhead for his first meal? She tapped her chin. Onyx hues found a red head, carrying a bunch of books on her arms. She smiled, slinking away to claim the woman.

She appeared at her side instantly. ”You alright there, miss?” “Yes thank you.” ”They look heavy.” “No, not really.” They were coming up to an alleyway, and with dexterity, she pushed the books onto the concrete floor. The redhead scrambled for them, and Nishaa kicked her firmly in the gut and into the darkness of the alleyway. She beckoned her childe with a simple look.

The human scrambled to get out, but Nishaa had her by the collar of white blouse. A hand was firmly clamped over mouth to muffle her shouts, and potential screams. Nishaa enjoyed their fear. It made the blood that much sweeter. Her eyes looked to Thorne then as he entered the vicinity. She handed the human to him, a hand still firmly clamped on her mouth. ”Bite her on the neck, with your fangs.” She had a bloodthirsty look upon her face, something that told the man that she wanted to feed to, but she wouldn’t not yet. ”You can kill her if you want, but then we’d have to dispose of the body. Or you can keep her barely alive and she will be dazed and confused - she won’t remember this incident or us. Makes no odds to me, you're going to have to learn either way.” She left the choice in Thorne’s hands.

[Thorne (DELETED 7278)]

It was really no choice at all.

The first time Randall Thorne had ever killed someone (other than smothering his elderly mother, but that hardly counted), it was a drug dealer named Joe Henry, "Fat Joe" to his friends, of whom he had very few. The killing had been all business. Joe had taken out a street dealer Randall had set up in his territory. Randall took out Joe. With a meat cleaver. To the head. In the beginning, all of Thorne's killings had been for business. Because succeeding in business was the most important thing there was. Until it wasn't. Until killing became the most important thing there was. Thorne had struggled with this paradigm shift (not so much so as to actually stop killing, but still...) But ultimately, he came to accept this reality about himself. Above all, Randall Thorne believed one had to be true to oneself. He was a killer. End of story.

And now Nishaa was offering him this young woman's life on a silver platter, with a built in rationalization: survival. After all, he had to feed to survive, to continue existing. Her existence, in comparison, was unimportant. Unless of course, she was in a position to kill him, in which case it was imperative she be true to herself, and do so. Survival of the fittest. But one look at the young woman's frantic eyes, as they searched wildly for help that would never come, told Randall that her identity was not of a killer, it was a victim. That was all Randall Thorne needed to know.

He was on her in an instant, pushing her further back into the darkened alley and up against a grimy wall. His fangs sunk deep into her neck. He tried to control the flow of blood, but it gorged into his mouth, dribbling down his chin, staining the woman's white blouse a brutal red. His hand replaced Nishaa's in stifling the woman's screams, clamping down hard to muffle her cries for help. As the blood continued to pour out of her body and into Thorne's eager mouth, her desperate struggling grew weaker, and then finally stopped altogether. At last, Thorne released the limp body, and the woman's corpse fell to the pavement with a shuffling thud.

Thorne considered the body thoughtfully for a moment, as the power of the blood surged through him. Then he pulled his hunting knife from its sheath, knelt down next to his victim. Her eyes stared upwards, still locked in fear. Thorne slashed the woman's throat multiple times in a criss-cross pattern with the knife, until the bite marks from his fangs were completely obliterated. It gave him great satisfaction to observe how little blood came out when he did this. He had practically drained her dry. Thorne stood up again and grabbed hold of the woman's body by the arms, dragging the corpse to a manhole cover he had observed out of the corner of his eye while feeding. He noted with pleasure that he was easily able to lift the heavy iron disc, something he would not have been able to do as a human.

With the hole uncovered, Thorne unceremoniously dumped the body into the sewers below, and then replaced the cover. It fell back into place with a heavy ringing noise, but otherwise, there was no evidence to be seen that the woman had ever been there. Thorne wiped his chin with his already tattered sleeve. He would have to get some new clothes soon; the state of his wardrobe was completely unacceptable.


Turning to Nishaa he said "Thank you. I feel much better. Now, tell me about this masquerade."

[Nishaa]

She watched with mild curiosity. Thorne did as he was supposed to, he didn’t hesitate either when she had mentioned that dreaded word that some flakey people hated; ‘kill’. No, he seemed to relish in it. He was upon his victim instantly. His fangs ripped into the flesh of her skin with a ‘crunch’. Nishaa canted her head to the side relishing in the lushious sound of his feeding, the woman’s muffled screams as he replaced her hand with his own - so now he was in complete control of this woman.

The heart was slowly. She could hear it. The drum was ending it’s deadly solo. If he was going to keep her alive, now would have been the perfect time to finish, but he continued to drink her. He was literally drinking her dry. She raised an eyebrow and watched, onyx hues were careful to admire his handiwork. It seemed he didn’t need any tutelage at all. The heartbeat stopped and the woman was dead. Thorne had killed on his first feed, there was nothing wrong with that - because she had done the same.

He disposed of the body with ease, a sewer grate. Not a bad idea. She made no movements to help, or offer advice. It was clear he done it before. She had turned a killer. There was something about that thought which was very endearing to the Necromancer. Something they both had in common, they were both murderer’s in their human lives. Odd that.

Thorne dusted off his hands happily and Nishaa nodded her head.

”You’ve murdered before, some people have an issue with taking a life - and you didn’t seem bothered.” She had cottoned onto his past. She laughed, it sounded like a cackle. ”I like that. I had killed my six year old brother when I was ten.” She gave a cruel smile.

Masquerade, yes.

”The Masquerade is the vampire law. No using your powers in front of humans, we are vampires. We have certain abilities pertaining to our path. I’m a Necromancer. My path links closely with death. I can do various things. You will find out you have your own powers soon enough. Considering how well you were with death, and killing. I might want to say your a killer. I could be wrong though. Time will tell. You are not allowed to feed from humans in public, you do what we just did. You drag them somewhere out of sight and then dispose of the body properly. If you are found to be doing any of these, you will die. There is a group that upholds the vampire law. They are called Tytonidae. I am a proud member of the faction, and if you are revealing what we are to the humans. We will hunt you, and we will kill you.” She smiled. ”You may be my responsibility, but I have no problem putting my rifle to your head and blowing your brains out because your a stupid twat that can’t keep our secret. Consider being a vampire a gift, once you die. Your spirit will be sent to the shadow realm where you will remain for a week until you can come back. If you die outside of Harper Rock, you won’t come back. Comprende?” She looked at him sternly. Nishaa didn't mess around, she was deadly serious.

[Thorne (DELETED 7278)]

Once again, Randall Thorne's gift of accepting and working within existing parameters served him well. He listened carefully and thoughtfully to each rule that Nishaa laid out. It was really a very simple system, and one that he could work within quite easily. After all, he had basically followed these same rules in New York. Do what you do, and don't get caught, or someone will bring the hammer down. He appreciated the straightforwardness of Tytonidae. Nishaa had just watched him kill a woman. If he had done anything other than what he had in correctly disposing of the body, if he had strayed from the path and risked the masquerade, she would have put a bullet in his brain. Thorne was careful and thorough. It had always been a necessary requirement in his line of work. These vampire rules would not be a problem for him.

As she described the paths, he keyed in on the word killer. Yes, he was certain that was his path, just as it had been in life. He noted the manner in which Nishaa explained, calmly and unrepentantly, how she had killed her own brother. It was always important in Thorne's opinion to, as Polonius put it, "thy own self be true." Shakespeare (as well as Sun Tzu) was one of the few forms of higher literature that Randall Thorne indulged in. His reading tastes normally tended more towards books on true crime (usually while taking notes), as well as... less savory fare. It was good that Nishaa knew where she stood with her nature as well.

He confirmed Nishaa's accurate assumption about his past. "I've killed before, he nodded. "The police and the media back in New York City had a nickname for me: Mack the Knife. Cheesy I know, but I'm sure the Son of Sam felt the same way. The Nightstalker, now that was a guy who had his nickname gift wrapped and handed to him on a silver platter." Thorne smiled. It was a cruel smile. His fangs did not look at all out of place. "In my old life I was a stock broker, a drug dealer, and a serial killer. In fact, I'm afraid I'm a bit notorious in New York City. So I am in complete agreement with you about a name change. How does Thorne Andras sound? What do you say? Am I a part of the family now?"

The killer felt confident as to what the answer would be. This woman and he were of a like mind, possibly more so than anyone he had ever met before in his entire life. If the rest of the Andras family were anything like her, Thorne knew he would fit in just fine.

[Nishaa]

She found herself scoffing.

”As soon as my fangs slipped inside the nape of your neck you were already family. It seems. I guess, but looking at the way you handled the disposal, and how you handled taking a life in your new, much more stronger form. There is hope for you yet.” She gave a coy smile. Thorne wasn’t out of the woods yet. He had much to learn before he could class himself as a real vampire. Nishaa didn’t class anyone a real vampire until they could face a mooncalf and survive. Nishaa did it, she died the first time. Then she came back - and gave it another go, she had passed her trial by fire. So she uses it as a guideline for anyone else she sires.

She inspected him further. Closing the small gap between them. She probed his fangs. Inspecting them, to see if he was anything like she was. She grabbed his top lip and lifted it up. Revealing the pearly white fangs. He didn’t seem to have permanent fangs like she did. She thought for a moment and released him moments later. She coughed, trying to act casual. Not everyone inspected their childe’s fangs. Odd, it seems that Abbadon was the only one out of her brood that had inherited her curse. Perhaps it was just something wrong with her, and Abi because Marjani and Thorne here were fine. She grunted.

”Whatever” She found herself muttering.

She turned back to Thorne then as he began to talk about his human life as a serial killer. Mack the Knife, he called himself. Nishaa on the other hand couldn’t keep a straight face. That wasn’t a name that struck fear in the heart of little children. She laughed. ”Not very frightening.” She told him, with a gentle wag of her finger. Though she nodded her head a moment later. ”Thorne is fine.” She said finally. She should have answered his question ages ago, but she liked to leave people in suspense. Waiting on her. It was a game to the Necromancer.

Moving forward again she grabbed the man, pulled the tome from her back pocket and read the words out loud. They both vanished and reappeared at the basement level of the Eyrie. She quickly escorted him to the third floor. Never lingering for too long, this was the quickest way for her to get to Pandemonium, the hotel Micah and Velveteen owned for Andras members.

She led him through the fadeportal. Dragging him mostly. Velveteen would kill Nishaa if she found out she carted her new fledgling around the Eyrie. Once on the tiled floor of the Pandemonium she dragged him east into her hotel room she shared with Marjani. The room was red, red like blood. A fireplace in the corner. Cosy, and burning brightly. It seemed that either Marjani or Bunny - Micah’s human - had been feeding the embers logs. It was warm. Nishaa shrugged off her jacket. Looking Thorne over.

”Strip.” She told him. ”I’m not going to do anything to you. You smell, your bloody and your clothes are torn. Throw them in the fireplace. Then come over here to the bathroom. I’ll draw you a bath.” She did just that, she went into the bathroom and began running a bath. She placed a white towel on the side.

”When you're done, wrap yourself in that towel. I’ll go get some clothes from Micah. He will have some you can wear.”

[Thorne (DELETED 7278)]

His sire was hard to impress. That was ok. Thorne enjoyed the challenge. He would expect no less from someone with killer instincts like his own. She inspected his mouth like a millionaire inspecting the race horse he was about to bet on. She was still deciding if he was going to be her prize pony.

And then things went topsy turvy. She had pulled out a book and begun reading, words Thorne didn't understand, as if she was a bibliophile under the influence of a sudden compulsive urge. But suddenly they were no longer in the alley, but a dark room. And then they were moving faster than he could keep up, disappearing and reappearing in new places. So this was part of being a vampire as well? Fascinating.

Eventually they passed through a door and arrived in what appeared to be her living space, an apartment with a blood red theme. A fire crackeld in the fireplace. She told him to undress. He had no problem doing so, regardless of what her intentions might have been at that moment. Thorne shed the tattered remains of the suit he had been wearing, stained with blood and dirt, and consigned them to the waiting fire. It felt good, like the plane which for all he knew was still burning in the woods. The purging of his old life, his old identity. He realized with satisfaction that his rebirth had been literal since he had arrived in Harper Rock.

He followed her to where she had indicated the bathroom was. A luxurious looking bath tub was filling with scalding hot water. He stood in front of her naked with no sense of self-consciousness. Thorne was fanatical about his work out routine. His body was toned and firm. And unlike others who exercised due to a sense of shame or lack of self worth, Thorne was an unabashed narcissist. He worked out simply to reinforce his own belief in his perfection. Thorne stepped into the water. He had no fear of the steam that was obviously rising off of it. He had realized after his turning that healing abilities came part and parcel as one of the gifts of his newly acquired vampire blood. And he wasn't afraid of pain. Pain he could handle. Pain was what reminded you that you were alive, even if, in his case, you really weren't.

Settling into the water, feeling it burn away the impurities on his skin, felt amazing. A Cheshire cat smile spread across Thorne's features as he sank into the bath with eyes closed. He felt more in tune with his body since the turning. Just as he had felt every inch of the brick wall he had run into, just as he had felt the dying girl's fading pulse ripple through him as he drank her blood, now he could feel the hot water lifting the grime from his skin.

When Thorne opened his eyes, Nishaa was gone. His sire had apparently made good about her offer to get him new clothes. He was less than hopeful at the prospect that she would return with anything worth wearing, but he would be gracious regardless. Later, when he could access his off-shore account, he would attempt to replace the five thousand dollar suit that had been destroyed in the course of tonight's adventures. Thorne rose from the bath, enjoying the sensation of a thousand water droplets leaving his body via various paths down his chest and thighs. He grabbed the towel that Nishaa had indicated to him, and wandered back into the main living quarters. A bear skin rug lay in front of the fireplace. He sat down, enjoying the sumptuous feel of the fur, and stared into the fire, contemplating and waiting for his sire's return.

[Nishaa]

Nishaa didn’t know if Micah was about really, but she knew the man didn’t mind if she walked in or out of his room. She liked to sit up on the fourth floor of the Eyrie sometimes - despite the warning that it was off limits to Tytonidae members. Nishaa liked to break those rules and Micah had never minded. Perhaps it was because they were like minded that he allowed her to slip inside his private abodes.

Knowing he was safely in the hot water. She slipped out of the hotel room. She paid no attention to his bodily parts. She wasn’t attracted to males - only a specific male, really. She moved out of the small corridor into the next and slipped inside Micah and Velveteen’s hotel room with the spare key she had acquired. She went straight for the chest of drawers and began rummaging. Micah was a big guy. Bigger than Thorne, for sure. So whatever she gave him, would be big. It would suffice until he bought his own clothes - with Nishaa’s debit card.

She grabbed a pair of jogging bottoms. Shrugging she pulled out a white tee, it must be his casual attire. She shut the drawer and slipped out - locking the door behind her and slipped back into her own hotel room. Locking the door behind her. The only others that had a key were Marjani, Micah, Velveteen and Every. She didn’t open her own private abode to anyone else. Besides immediate family. Thorne was now part of that small circle, regardless of his accidental turning.

She looked straight ahead, onyx hues directly locked onto Thorne who seemed to be out of the bath and wrapped in that white towel. She moved towards him and handed him the clothes. She grabbed the slide, and pulled it between the two of them, giving him his privacy to dress. She didn’t grab boxers. He would have to go commando.

”If you ruin these clothes.” She told him from the other side of the screen. ”I will kill you.” What she failed to add was that it wasn’t she that would do the killing, it would be Micah. Micah would kill him. Whilst Nishaa would probably stand back and let him. She had warned him as best as she could.

”You see any humans roaming about the hotel, they are off limits to your fangs. Each human here has a relic that turns their blood to poison - poison for us. So keep your fangs away, if you don't want to taste that poison.” Bunny especially was off limits. Micah’s human. His faithful human, she had been nothing but nice to Nishaa. Nishaa had been nice in return, she respected Micah’s wishes and now she was passing on the message he had passed on to everyone else. He was new, he needed to be told.

”Got it?” She questioned.