Two Killers On A Moonlit Night (Silhouette)

[Christof (DELETED 6348)]

The moment she leapt forward he slammed back, ducking to the left. With a surprising burst of speed (for a human at least), he'd slipped to the side. Still, she was a lot faster than he'd anticipated, and he had to catch his breath as he crouched, backing a few steps away. "Signora, you are much quicker than I am expecting. You are one of them, si? Da ones who taste the best..." He dragged his tongue against the blade and cackled, rising to his feet. "Let me have a taste, mia signora. Just a little, lovely taste..." He twisted the blade, catching the light. Then he leapt towards her, waving the knife in a wild, erratic fashion that might have caught a fledgling off guard, but would hardly be a match for a vampire who was more experienced.

[Silhouette (DELETED 6077)]

"Signora, you are much quicker than I am expecting. You are one of them, si? Da ones who taste the best..." <> "Let me have a taste, mia signora. Just a little, lovely taste..."

He'd dodged her. Dodged her advances as if he were used to these types of attacks. She felt nearly sick as he licked his knife, anticipating her blood. He began waving the knife around crazily and she was quick to evade the wild slashes.

She needed to disarm him quickly and yet he was unpredictable, in a frenzy... feral even. The cool, collected man who had kept calm was like a young man strung along with foreplay to an unbearable point. She knew, then, that this had been a tedious sport, like fishing but for people.

he was familiar with vampires as he declared her as being "one of them" and she shouted from her mind as she skidded left and right at each slash of the blade. her arm extended outward and was quickly withdrawn but not quickly enough as Christof's blade slashed nearly an inch through her arm, sending a blood trail slinging in an arc through the air between them. He could not have it. But she had no time to tell him so, as he was flailing and she was dodging. regardless of the ineffectiveness of the knife it definitely had the potential to hurt... or worse if she were to be immobilized even for a moment.

She pushed out a barrage of insane thoughts, all the memories and pictures she could conjure in her mind all at once was shoved into his, stunning him momentarily as she kicked outward to the wielding hand aiming to send the knife across the office. Something about his tongue running across her blood sickened her although it couldn't have been much different from her craving the blood that was waiting to be drained from his jugular.

Silhouettes heel met his face rather than his hand, due to a dexterous dodge on his part. the tip of the stiletto ripped through the skin of his face for nearly two inches before he completed his dodge with a turn away from her kick. She was steadily drawing out painful thoughts, memories of injuries, crowded anxious thoughts and shoving them into his mind, slowing him. But it still did nearly nothing to tame his aggression and obsession with her own blood.

[Christof (DELETED 6348)]

Cuts were flying, this way and that, as Christof fought through a storm of thought. Telepaths were new to him, and here and there his staggered, unused to the mental barrage. His blade had tasted blood, though, but there wasn't a moment free in which to sample it as he longed to. The fact of this only pushed him further. Then his knife was kicked away, and the heel of her shoe sliced deep into his face. He reeled back, blinded by blood, pain, and a wall of thought, screaming and slashing at the air. A string of Italian oaths was ground out as he fell back, right into the pile of corpses. Blinking away the blood dripping in his eyes, he reached around and flung the first thing he could at the vampire.

A skull, still bearing bits of flesh, arced through the air to bounce off of Sil, harmlessly. Well, as harmless as a blood-dripping skull could be. Then he staggered to his feet, stubbornly refusing to flee or fall. He'd never lost, and his pride wouldn't let him run here.

[Silhouette (DELETED 6077)]

As Christoff reeled back, a single corner of Silhouette's mouth raised and she was advancing upon him. Rather she began an advance until a skull, tattered bits of flesh still intact, flew in her direction and bounced from her shoulder. A look of sheer disgust spread across her face, then morphed to rage as Christoff steadied himself on his feet.

He was proving to be a major annoyance as Silhouette bowed over, picking the skull back up, thrusting it like a cannon ball toward the killer's legs, clipping the outer side of his left knee as he dodged her attempt to cripple him. It burrowed deeply into the sunken rotting flesh the nearest corpse. Christoff fell tot he floor after his dodge, and Silhouette caught and spun him to face her, lifting him from the floor but the fabric of his shirt.

"What the hell is your prob-" Words were cut off as a knife penetrated her throat. She felt as the cool metal slid through her flesh and her first reaction was to scream but the blade prevented her vocal cods from vibrating and the short amount of panic was wiped away by an evil, toothy smile as she threw her knee into Christoff, forcing his hand to release the knife still penetrating her throat. Blood dribbled upward and spilled over her lips as she tossed him aside, then slowly she pulled the knife from her flesh as a pint of blood gushed from the wound before it completely sealed.

"You've got to be better than that." She tossed the knife down to the first floor, and mercilessly crouched over the floored Christoff, leaning seductively close to the pinned mans throat.

Your blood is going to be delectable
she fed into his mind, as something feral in her licked her lips and chuckled, spewing blood across him from the amount that had just poured up from the throat wound.

[Christof (DELETED 6348)]

She was so much stronger than the others, and it was then Christof began to realize his mistake. He’d had little mingled experience with the nightwalkers, but he’d assumed their strength had been tested. This woman proved all his understanding wrong. Faster. Stronger. Confident. It was almost a thrill if he wasn’t losing so embarrassingly. Still, he had to laugh even in the face of his imminent death, bringing a set of fingers to his breathless lips. A tongue ran over the crimson that stained them, and he grinned from ear to ear. He could taste the power in those few drops. A telepath, he’d tasted them before but never like this. It was enough, though. Enough for a string of Italian thoughts to slip into the womans mind.

‘In bocca al lupo.. Crepi il lupo...’

His hand whipped out but never reached her face. Her hand tightened, and he felt his windpipe collapse under her vampiric strength. Fingers groped at the fabric of her clothing, great restraint exercised as he refused to struggle in his final moments. Yet as he felt his blood flowing free, and darkness closing in, his expression changed to something else. Something reflecting perhaps the remnants of a child, long ago, who’d been forgotten by those who were supposed to love. A child who gave so much for blood, only to be betrayed by it, and betray in turn.

Darkness to darkness, he finally returned.

(Translation note: ‘In bocca al lupo.. Crepi il lupo’ translates to ‘Into the wolfs mouth, may the wolf die’, the Italian idiom for ‘break a leg’)