One Broke the Mold [Enzo Vaughn]

[Nikolae]

Nikolae was more than a little surprised at the ease the mortal agreed to his proposition. A complete lack of self preservation, or a bold decision of a man looking for more in his simple life than he currently had? For his sake, the Dragon hoped the latter was the answer. The former would do neither of them any good in the future. Too many in this town saw weakness, craziness, or oddness of any kind as an easy pick for slaughter. That the death was short lived and mostly boring rather than horrifying did not really matter. It was death nonetheless, a blight and black mark on the record of the one killed and his creator as well. More than a few Dragons had met their temporary ends at the pointy end of someone elses knife. More than a few had not come back from it at all.

"This way, then, stranger." He replied softly, turning with little care that his jacket parted with the motion and revealed the pretty gun at his hip. He stepped down the stairs to the street, expecting the male to follow and not bothering to look and make sure of it.

He instinctively avoided the street lights - Shadows didn't cast shadows of their own, and though he was certain this male had had a drink or two, enough curiosity would encourage questions Nikolae did not want to answer. Questions he might answer in the future. It depended on the end of this evening. He didn't need to look up as he walked, though. The way was as instinctive to him as the knowledge one of his blood was near. He always knew, on some level, even if the Dragon in question did not inherit his cursed eyes. Most did. Even if it took a while, most seemed to gain those slitted pupils and eery gaze.

"Do you believe in anything?" He asked abruptly as he stepped up the curb and along the path to his beloved Temple. He rested a hand on one heavy wooden door and glanced over his shoulder. "Anything bigger than yourself?" He continued carefully.

He didn't wait for the answer as he pushed open the door and stepped into the cathedral like room. The pews on either side were in order, though a few pillows had been tossed to the floor by whatever immortal had sought haven in the neutral building during the day. He snatched one up and planted it carefully onto a pew before pacing down the aisle to the bloodied alter at the front. It looked recently used. He wondered if Raeth was responsible for that. A pale hand rested atop the skull on the alter, fingers petting over the smooth bone rhythmically as he stood with his back to the wall and the secret entrance to his Dragomir abode, facing the front door he'd only just entered through and the mortal who had followed him here.

[Enzo Dragomir]

Enzo continued to keep his own counsel as they entered the temple. His thoughts remaining his own even as he held out hope this strange man would prove as interesting as he thought he might. It wasn't that he was dissatisfied with his life. He had or could have whatever he wanted without much effort. That was the problem. There weren't any real challenges anymore, nothing that made him roll up his sleeves and work.

It had all become routine to Enzo. No one stood out from the usual, no problem hadn't already been done, even his body was in peak shape leaving little room for more. He knew he could take on hobbies, but how calculated that seemed. Smothering his boredom with hot buttered just don't care. When he was younger everything had bite. It was a vast world and full of potential and gains.

Now it was like driving an automatic Lamborghini. It looked good but the feeling just wasn't there. Enzo still couldn't pin what it was about Nikolae that spoke to him. Could be as simple as the man was nothing like anyone he had ever met. That would catch his attention in any circumstance. He watched his companion as he made his way through the doors, the shadowed darkness seemed to almost welcome him home.

Odd turn of prose from the hardened Brit. He wasn't one to usually wax poetic, preferring to enjoy other peoples efforts to keep from madness. He figured if he were ever to go mad, he would happily remain one of those drooling fools who didn't realize he was arsed.

Enzo's storm hued eyes took a moment to adjust to the soft light in the large room. Nikolae's question hanging on the air between them. "Do you believe in anything..." he followed further into the main room, what he could see seemed beautiful, elegant in that nights long past sort of way. It made him feel comfortable at first, coming from a country that bathed in old school and tradition everything. He could respect that need to surround yourself with tastes and trends that had proven themselves over time.

Walking slowly still, toward what he supposed was the altar, drinking it all in he quietly... thoughtfully answered his host. What did he have to lose in being honest with Nikolae? He'd never tried explaining himself to anyone, not even his beliefs or lack of them. "I don't believe in some God sitting on top of us, judging us, petting warrior cherubs as he pretends to fight his own creation and son." Enzo stopped at one of the pews and he too picked up a pillow to right it from the floor. It just seemed to ask him to do it.


"I don't believe in any God. I believe in myself. Hold myself accountable for myself. What reason could I have to allow people not even good enough to become martyrs judge me?" he stopped for a moment still looking at the pillow, his voice as rich and mellow as his thoughts. "I'm a far harsher judge than they."

"I believe in finding limits and surpassing them. I think that's why I'm here really." he smiled then and stepped closer to where Nikolae was barely seen in the shadow "You're not a redone version of someone I have already met hundreds of times." Closing the distance Enzo finally was able to see the altar Nikolae had stopped at. The bloody stains and the obvious remains of the hapless. Even as his mind picked up the speed between eye and hand, even as he processed everything about the situation, his fingers closed around the glock he kept hidden and pulled it free in a well practiced single move.

No more words came from him, his mind saying it all as he sighted the obviously mad creature before him. His body in lethal shape from years of sword play and hunting also didn't need the words. But there they were in that cold damned room. "What the ****?"

[Nikolae]

Nikolae realized a moment before it happened that the mortal had apparently reached the very ends of his oddness acceptance. He had allowed it much further than most might have, though, and for that he had earned points. Points for bravery too, if walking into the Dragons lair also proved a bit of a dangerous choice as well. He stared at the gun pointed at his own body and allowed a smirk to quirk his lips. Now things were getting interesting. Dropping his hand from the skull, he slowly walked around the alter again until he was standing a couple of feet in front of the jumpy human. He didn't raise his hands in a parody of innocence; Nikolae was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them yet.

"You believe in yourself. I see that." He nodded toward the gun, and lifted a hand slowly - after all he didn't want the man getting antsy and accidentally shooting the Dragon. That might rile his inner monster, and he couldn't be held responsible for decisions made in the heat of the moment. He removed his sunglasses, folding them carefully and tucking them into an inner pocket of his leather jacket. Only then did he look up, his odd lizard-like eyes peering at the man in front of him. He'd had the eyes since his birth as a mortal, but rather than fixing the genetic mutation somehow the magic which made him immortal embraced the defect; every member of his lineage crossed the bridge of life and death with the same eyes Nikolae had been cursing his entire life.

"You believe in the things you know, the things you have known to be true for your entire life. But the truth of that is that you know almost nothing." He flashed a small smile and shook his head. "Lucky for you I'm willing to shine light on the things you're blind to." He wouldn't promise to be a teacher - Nikolae was the worst at such things. He had high expectations of his brood, but holding their hands was never his strong suit.

He stepped forward, closer to the man, anticipating he would likely be shot now. He hoped he would be. His monster was coiled tight, and already he was planning how best to take the man down. The mortal wouldn't run - of that he was certain. And he savored that knowledge, that expectation. Chasing prey was the lonely man's game, and Nikolae rarely suffered from that. He would bring this male into his embrace, drain him to his own content, and replenish at least a little bit with his own black blood. Yes. It was decided. There would be no turning back now. This strange mortal would not escape the Temple, alive or dead. The Dragon had already set his claws in.

[Enzo Dragomir]

Enzo relaxed his stance, his body falling easily into keeping his weapon poised and at ready. His muscles obeyed from sheer memory, drilled into compliance from years of athleticism and control. A hunters mind was a finely focused machine, Enzo's clicking over to that place he went when a predator made an appearance while they went for the same prey. And this was a predator. Of that he had no doubts.

He'd known it from the start if he remained honest with himself. That probably was what had drawn him to Nikolae. Enzo had that same killer deep in his mind and it recognized the more accomplished. The way the other man moved, the way he didn't seem even slightly worried about the glock trained on him...

Nikolae offered to show him things, maybe even tell him what was after that glass ceiling Enzo seemed stuck looking through. If the greater predator didn't kill him first. No way he was lowering that weapon, his thumb had already eased the safety off in one silent motion, caressing the handgrip as he resumed his hands tight coil. His companion began to move after what he had to know were tempting words, but the Brit knew in his gut he would shoot if he came closer. Answers be damned.

There was no wise crack or satirical humour winding through Enzo's mind. None of his usual inner dialogue. He knew he was in danger and knew he had wanted it though he didn't fully understand why. He couldn't blame it all on boredom, the recklessness came from something deeper. Maybe an inner rebellion against a lifetime of over achieving to please people that would never be pleased. He didn't know and right now was not the time for inner soul searching.

Nikolae took that next step. Enzo fired the gun straight at the mans shoulder. Even now he did not aim to kill only wound. Only warn that he was capable of it. "No closer Nikolae. No closer man." was all he said as the bullet left the chamber. Damn it, why did he have to take that step?

[Nikolae]

Nikolae flinched, but only barely, when the bullet tore through his flesh. To be fair, it had hurt like a ***********. But he was more irritated that one of his favorite jackets had just been ruined. He scowled and curled his hand into a fist as his black blood welled in the wound. It wouldn't drip, it never did. But with the jacket blocking the wound, it couldn't evaporate quite so quickly. It pooled, an uncomfortable sensation for the Shadow.

"Do you feel better?" He drawled, quirking one eyebrow over his odd hazel eyes. He knew they were unnerving. They'd unnerved everyone he'd ever met for the entirety of his life. A curse he'd been born with. But in this new life, he embraced it finally. He eyed the gun, and the hand holding it. The man might just get off another shot if he was allowed to. Nikolae had no intention of allowing him to. He considered his options, as the wound struggled to heal itself. It would take longer, because he was a Shadow. And because he admittedly put little stock into learning the art of Healing. Not when there were so many better things to spend his time getting better at.

In a burst of speed he was on the man, possibly too fast for the mortals eyes to catch. He caught the heated gun barrel and shoved it up, aiming at the ceiling. He would be mad as hell if the little upstart shot out one of the beautiful windows in his Temple. Each had been made at great expense - rather than the typical scenes of biblical fancy, instead were scenes of those he adored. Dragomir vampires peering out through mosaic paintings, and a wolf guarding one window. He missed that wolf, now and then. He missed so very much. Immortality had it's faults.

"You had your chance to run, stranger." He murmured into the mans ear as his fangs lengthened in his mouth. He was pleased the man hadn't run, though. Running was a weakness few could afford, especially in this city. Vampire or no, it would do little good to have that capability.

He dipped his head, one hand grasping the males wrist after wrenching the gun away, the other arm wrapping round the humans back to hold him close. An embrace. His fangs pierced flesh, and blood spilled into his mouth. He drank greedily.

[Enzo Dragomir]

Enzo was falling backward before it even registered Nikolae had indeed moved forward again. His head cracked against the floor, blurring his vision as he tried to react but too slow, a step behind every move his attacker made. His glock made a clattering sound somewhere to his side as his hand was forced to release it and his look of confusion comical due to the man rarely wearing it.

His body rebelled even as his mind tried to catch up, struggling against the superiour strength of Nikolae. No amount of twisting or brute shoving even slightly moved the smaller man. Enzo hadn't been on the losing end of a grapple since he was in short pants and his inability to move began to swarm his brain with red flavoured anger. Great waves of it. Gritting his teeth he redoubled his efforts, all in the space of a few seconds. Until through the shock of his situation he felt the unthinkable. Nikolae was tearing into his throat like a starving wolf taking down a deer.

It felt like that too. He was suffocating under his assailant, feeling himself growing weaker. Black spots began to form in his vision as his eyes capillaries burst and sent broken cells swimming over his irises. Bucking again, futilely, he realized Nikolae was making sounds against his throat. Swallowing. Enzo's brows furrowed, even that taking effort as he began to pull in deeper breaths in an effort to get oxygen to his dying brain. He was drinking. "What ar.." he managed to get out, the strength needed to complete the sentence gone. Blood. Nikolae was drinking him dry.

Enzo's struggles became little more than bunching and contracting muscles, his vision dimmed to just a pinpoint of light. Somewhere in the midst of rejecting what was clearly happening to him, he followed that small bit of light. It brought his glazed over eyes up, the beautiful windows looking back down at him. It wasn't like any he'd ever seen before, the people enacted in the coloured glass weren't famous, or doing anything he'd heard of. But the art called to him none the less and he gave himself over unwittingly to Nikolae's family as his fists bunched against the vampires sleeve and then his back. Holding on to even his own murderers shoulders as he fought one last time for life.

The brain is a funny thing as it came time for it to let go, Enzo's focusing on the way Nikolae had become more right before he lunged. As if it took his dying to be able to piece together the events that happened far to fast for him to see. "Beautiful" he whispered, at least he thought he whispered it, the image of Nikolae against the stained glass panels burned itself into his mind and he gratefully held it close as the pain of his organs beginning to seize ruptured through him.

He had nothing better to grasp. His life had been nothing outside of accruing power, position, dominance. He knew that now. Anything to please a father that didn't deserve his son.

Another soft exhale of breath and his body completely relaxed, held together by nothing more than Nikolae's embrace. Enzo didn't know if he fought still or if he had given himself over, memories and the now seemed superimposed over each other, adding to his dying confusion. It didn't matter really he supposed. He was dying as he had lived. The dominating being dominated.

The irony of it would have made him smile. If that damn wolf in the window would stop eating him.

[Nikolae]

Nikolae held his prize close, lips sealed over the wound as it spurted. It would be a pity to lose the precious drops the stranger was giving so willingly. He felt his telepathic abilities flaring naturally, letting him delve into the mortals mind with brute force. He wouldn't shatter the mans mind - or at least, he certainly hoped not. He rifled through memories, picking up the little things that shaped the mans personality at least on the surface. A name came to the forefront and he absorbed that too. His fangs dug a little deeper as the blood slowed, and that little pressure must have finally dug into the thumping artery. The blood came too fast then, much too fast to drink to his disappointment. It covered his lower face, and dribbled over his black shirt. It was the reason he wore black so often - harder to distinguish blood.

The Dragon hauled the weakening mortal backwards with him, dragging the heavy body toward the alter on impulse. There was blood already on it, after all, so clean up would be a breeze. He drew his mouth away from the gurgling wound at last to lift the dying mortal up onto the dais. The blood still dribbled, and dripped, and pooled on the stone beneath the human. He passed a cool hand over the males face, his own odd gaze taking in every little detail of this moment. Perhaps one night it would replace a scene among the windows. This male looked glorious in his arrogant death, the same stubborn set of his jaw and a bit of retaliation glimmering there. Nikolae liked it. He approved quite a lot.

"Would you make the night a better place, Enzo?" He questioned softly. He wasn't sure if the man could even answer at this point, or if he could hear over his dying breaths. The Dragon's eyebrows pinched in thought as he gazed over the man.

"It is not an easy life, I'm afraid." He continued, fingers carding through the males hair like a father might his young child; a doting comforting sort of motion. "But you would do well in it. You would survive. You would help breathe life back into these cold halls." He glanced up at the mosaics with the bitter taste of regret and disappointment. So many Dragons had come and gone. It was past time he latched onto one, forced them to remain. Forced them to be better than they were; forced them to grow and shape and change this damnedable city.

"Your choice, Enzo." He said as he removed his jacket and rolled up a sleeve. He snatched up the knife always on the alter and brought the sharp edge to his own wrist. Black blood welled but did not drip. Such an odd Shadow trait, unnerving. So he brought his bloodied wrist to the males parted lips and pressed.

"Drink, if you have the courage. Don't if you'd rather pass on to the next life. My blood will tether you to this one, for eternity, if you have the stamina for it. You'll rise an immortal, a vampire with a Dragon's heart." His lips quirked, bemused. The male already had that heart, after all.

[Enzo Dragomir]

His teeth bared as his dying mind cast the illusion the wolf was moving. In reality it was his body being dragged across the floor toward the back of the building. His rage at his circumstances narrowed until all that was left was a dark desire for retribution. He must have slipped into unconsciousness because the next he was aware he was laying flat on a hard surface. Gentle hands smoothed through his hair, cradling him as he struggled for breath. He'd never known that sensation but he imagined it was how normal parents comforted their children.

Confusion warred with anger in the darkening depths of his gray gaze, slitted against even the dimmest light as it caused shooting pain through his temples. He knew what had happened to him. He'd seen enough ridiculous fops prancing about in fangs and angst in the movies. Knowing it and allowing himself to believe it were two different things. Enzo found it was too much effort either way.

Something began buzzing in his ear, narrowing his eyes further as he tried to focus on it, mildly annoyed it was interrupting the soothing he was enjoying for the first time in his life. It figured it took death to comfort. His heart gave a large thump in his chest, a last surge of adrenaline to torture him with futility. The only boon it really gave was he could hear what his murderer was saying.

Would he make the night a better place... he honestly didn't know. Enzo never lied to himself and he wasn't under any illusion he was a good man. Added to that he had no idea what was wrong with the man's world that needed bettering. It wasn't lost on his darkening mind that was clinging to certain sensations with whip sharp clarity like the forlorn sound of Nikolae's voice. The sadness laced with hope.

Hope was something Enzo knew little about either. He either did, or didn't do. Waiting on hope left him with empty hands, nothing to show but dreams he couldn't share. He envied that feeling sometimes when alone and deep in his own thoughts. What did his killer want from him? His soul? He managed to gargle out a rough shake of barked laughter, a snort really. Jokes on him, he didn't have one. He'd sold it long ago, trading whatever softness it gave him for success. He didn't lose. Ever.

Until he'd met someone who had sold their soul for something better. And now here he was, his new devil making bargains with him. Eternity on the table, at least that was what he fancied was being said. Nikolae's words seemed to come to him from under a vast sea, water and pressure garbling the sounds until he wasn't sure he wasn't twisting it to what he wanted.

He wanted to live. So when that wrist pressed against his lips, and an alien liquid unlike any he'd ever known or felt began to seep through the cracks of his dry lips, he opened his mouth and allowed the ichor down his throat. There was no other way to describe it. He didn't swallow so much as it slid down his throat. Slithered...

Enzo managed a hand up to grip the wrist gifting him life back, then the other, pulling in with greater strength each draught until his own teeth were pressing against the wound, forcing more into his parched mouth. He had no way to gauge time, the sensations pulsing through him were beyond mere pain, far past pleasure, he began to believe he'd gone to hell, dead after all.

And then the real pain began. He arched upward, his back bowed in agony, legs thrashing as his fingers released Nikolaes wrist. In what could only have been a few seconds his entire world became a torture no human brain was designed to endure and survive sane. And then he was plunged into darkness as his heart stopped and the world ceased to exist.

Or maybe it was him that ceased to exist.

[Nikolae]

The Dragon never quite knew how each of his creations would come across that bridge of life and death, how they might traverse the Shadow Realm and come back. Some didn't seem to make it, dying with his black blood evaporating on their lips. Was it a lack of will to survive, he wondered, or something else entirely. Something dark and sinister hiding in that wicked place, snatching his newborns before they could draw their first unnecessary breath and stare at him with all too familiar eyes. He had a hope, dim as it was, that this one would survive the journey. A journey Nikolae himself could not recall. Much of that night was, to his eternal irritation, an utter mystery. He had been taken down by a ravenous beast who would later reveal himself to be the immortal Chad Worthington - the third. A vampire who had only barely been turned before being sucked into the Realm for however long they'd been trapped there, and then spat out again the night Nikolae had had the misfortune of happening upon him. Indeed, Nik hadn't even been the only one Chad had fallen on in his hunger and terror to create a hoard of new blood drinkers. And Nikolae, having snapped himself from the violent exchange, had relentlessly attacked his now beloved Raeth. That the male had a twin had been seen as a boon, and ultimately a failure. Azariel was as crazed as he was arrogant. While the former was, unfortunately, a blood trait amongst his Dragons it would seem, the latter was simply unacceptable.

He curled his hand into a fist to encourage the flow of his own black blood through his veins and out the little wound he'd made for his creation. The mortal had latched on now, suckling greedily, and the Dragon nearly crooned with approval. Soon. Soon enough this one would return. Who would he be, Nikolae wondered. A parody of his former self, no doubt. A reflection, but not quite the same - nobody was ever really the same. A Dragon, that much was for certain. It was impossible to hide from ones blood, though more than a few had tried. Even the spells used to break the ties never really seemed to work entirely. One would always be tied to the blood that had brought them from mortal to vampire.

He leaned over the male as Enzo contorted in pain, and blinked his slitted hazel eyes down at him much like a scientist observing his experiment. "Fascinating," he even murmured, lips twitching with a little smile. He could feel himself slipping already, losing the firm grip he'd maintained on himself to remain that aloof cold creature he displayed to the walking world. Those of his brood knew different. They knew Nikolae Dragomir as outsiders never would. This one would know.

"Boop." He chuckled, tapping his reborn childe's nose with a fingertip. Senses were always remarkably intensified, and these first moments after a turning could not be recaptured. He hoped his boop hadn't hurt the young creature.

[Enzo Dragomir]

He was swimming. At least that was the best way to describe what was happening with him. But it wasn't water, at least any water known in reality. This was thick, inky black and sluggish. He also knew he wasn't alone. There were others here surrounding him, swimming too.. and some who were just lying in wait like sharks searching for their next meal. He didn't know how he knew there was danger here, it was just a feeling deep in his gut that had him looking for some way out, some way to surface.

He could see nothing, there were no sounds, just this buoyant feeling of being trapped far from land. Enzo ceased moving and just stayed still, calming his thoughts from the terror that threatened to overtake him. There was the sensation he closed his eyes, but he couldn't be sure as nothing changed with the action of it. This continued, the purposeful calming for how long he couldn't gauge, but slowly he had control of himself once more and again opened his eyes.

As he focused, looking for a way to end this, he would swear to himself later that it felt as if something wrapped itself around him, winding through him until it became a part of him deep inside. Knowing him to the point there was almost no distinction between who he was and who he now became. "I am more." was all he thought as he felt himself alone again, though nothing had changed, the other was still there... but now he was the other. Or maybe the other was him.

Realizing it mattered little how this gift had come about, and he knew it was a gift, he felt stronger, more in control, a master of things that were human. They lived to serve. Or die. His whims determined it. Enzo's mind crooned with the heady feeling that accompanied this realization, basking in the sensations as he floated in the dark. He very well could have lost himself there, but the back of his mind urged him forward, he didn't belong here. Here was dangerous and that danger was getting closer. Nodding to himself he once more opened his eyes and searched until he could make out a light in the distance. A pinpoint really, but it was blaring in the encompassing darkness. There...

Enzo began to move himself toward the only visible thing in this place, he would have thought even that small light would illuminate the complete darkness of it's area but it was like light couldn't exist inside here. Rather it was a hole a circle of light without illumination. As he moved closer, the circle became larger until he was able to hover before it.

He stared at his face. His dead face. Then he looked at Nikolae holding onto him with such vigor and he knew he needed to be part of that embrace. He somehow knew also that he could reach out to Nikolae as he went. From this vantage it was like the elder vampire had an aura made purely of shadow. Rolling and ever moving, caressing and protecting. Enzo wondered if that was going to happen to him. But at the moment that thought formed it was discarded. His path was chosen, he was in ways as he had been, just perfected into what was in his mind a masterpiece.

Enzo slipped through the hole, his fingers reaching out to trail through the shadows dancing around Nikolae. He was gathering up the will required to press himself down, down into his body when the Elder Dragon moved and tagged his nose with a mighty 'boop'.

Pain lashed through his face and Enzo grabbed his nose.

He was back.

"What the hell?" were his first words, slurred around new fangs emerged from tender gums, eyes narrowed but still revealing the storm gray hue was already housing the elliptical pupils of his bloodline, the house of dragons.

He didn't care, and though the pain was subsiding he continued to glare at Nikolae until his own jovial nature could hold it no longer and he smirked, cutting into his own lip accidently, waking the hunger that would now forever plague him. And then his emotions went full throttle insane.. starving, loss, anger, ego. He couldn't weed through them fast enough and he curled into a ball, rolling off of the altar to land on hands and knees, gasping unneeded breaths of air.

"What the HOLY Hell?"