Path of the Vampire forum

Something was wrong. He could feel it, one of those nagging feelings that took hold of him somewhere in the back of his mind and refused to let go. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. At first he was able to ignore it and go one with his evening pretending that something wasn’t right somewhere. Time passed with him scribbling notes down on a piece of paper. Vel’s birthday was coming up soon and he wanted to do something completely out of the ordinary for her. For the past couple of years be’d gotten her something practical that she could get a good amount of use out of but this time he wanted to be not so….well practical. The paper in front of him was full of ideas but he hadn’t picked one yet. There was still time. Whatever it was, she’d be pleased. With Vel it was the thought that counted more than anything else.

More time passed and as it did that feeling that had started as just a nagging sensation changed into something far more severe. Micah had no doubt that it was his wife experiencing something that he couldn’t relate to, or even begin to understand. He had no idea where she was and he didn’t have the slightest clue on how to find her. Tracker he was not and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to ask someone to locate her for him. It wasn’t their business - it wasn’t even his business unless Vel chose to let him in on it or ask him for help. All he could do was wait. But he couldn’t just sit there until she showed her face. Whatever it was, it was distracting and sitting around writing **** down wasn’t providing him enough to focus on. He dropped the pen and stood, heading for the portal that would take him to the garage. Maybe he could find something there to keep him busy.

The second he stepped through that portal he felt it. The source of his unease was right underneath his feet. He was through the door and halfway down the steps before the ominous rumbling knocked him off balance. His hand shot out at the last second, fingers curling around the railing that lined the stairs just in time to hold his body upright. Micah had felt that before when Vel was angry. The lights weren’t flickering - yet - but he’d recognize that sensation anywhere. His wife was livid, and it would explain why he felt like something was off. Voices could be heard, one his wife’s the other he recognized as Satine’s. ****. Micah didn’t walk down the rest of those stairs, he ******* ran. And the sight that greeted him sent him flying into a rage.

His garage was in shambles. Shattered glass littered the floor, benches overturned, shelves ripped from the walls, metal twisted and that was the beginning of the damage. He scanned the room and when his eyes slide over where his bike should have been, he lost his ****. It was still there but it had been knocked over and he could see the damage from where he was standing. And it wasn’t just the bike. The windshield of his truck was completely shattered. To say that he was livid would have been a complete understatement. No one had ever seen the level of rage he’d just accomplished and those two bitches were going to be on the receiving end of it.

“WHAT THE **** DO YOU CRAZY BITCHES THINK YOU’RE DOING!?!”

It came out in a roar that he had no doubt would be heard over the sounds of their ******* bickering. Seeing Vel standing there with a gun to her head broke something inside of him. Is that what it had come down to? She was so ******* miserable, so angry that she was willing to shoot herself in the head and injure her sister in the process? His body shifted grotesquely. He grew inches in seconds, his fingers lengthened and claws appeared where his fingers should be. Muscles that he already had grew in size and proportion and his mouth became full of razor sharp teeth. This was going to end and it was going to end now.

Stalking across the room to his wife he swatted the gun out of her hand. “I have ******* had it with you two. Hate each other if you ******* want. Beat the everlasting **** out of each other if thats what you want. But you brought me into this now. You RUINED MY ****!” He didn’t even sound like himself, his voice coming out in a rumbling raspy growl that he didn’t recognize in his furious state of mind. “You want to kill her Velveteen?” He bent to pick up the gun and held it out to her. “Go on then. Do it. Risk your own ******* life in the process. Be a selfish ******* ***** and take the cowardly way out. I ******* dare you.” He took a step back and waited.

Her finger began to pull against the trigger. The action painfully slow as Velveteen watched her sister with a white hot, stare that burned with insanity. One shot. That was all she would really need right now. She could see it in her minds eye and replayed the scene over and over. Bone splintering as slow motion as the bullet entered. She could see it in vivid detail as it careened through the grey matter. Tearing a hole through the fleshy pulp and blood vessels leaving small explosion after small explosion in its wake before bursting through the other side victoriously. More bone. Larger pieces flying outward and shattering like glass followed by a chunky mess that would make wet squelching noises as it it hit the floor and wall. But then...then would come that fine pink mist that would hang momentarily on the air. A red fog that would linger only briefly before descending to earth. At that point everything sped up again only to start all over again.

Rational had no place here. Sensible had packed its ******* bags and left ages ago and her give-a-****-ometer had hit zero with a thudding clarity. The usually calm and in control woman was nowhere to be seen and in her place was this fuckball of crazy who was so blinded by rage that no amount of talking was going to fix anything. One shot. It would be one she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Deathly cold fingers squeezed tighter about Satine’s throat if for no other reason but to silence her. ***** talked too much anyways.

Velveteen didn’t flinch when the sound of her husband’s voice boomed through the darkness and for the briefest of seconds she chastised herself for not going elsewhere but what was done was done. She wasn’t letting go of the gun or the slender neck in her grasp. Somewhere deep in the darkest recesses of her mind a small voice tried to reason with her and the absurdity of the situation. How many time throughout her life had she wished for a sister? A brother? Some connection to her origins? How jealous had she been of those who knew who they were and where they came from? And yet here she was with her fingers clamped around one who could give her that and wishing her dead. Just another of the necromancer’s idiosyncrasies. She liked things done on her terms and this was no exception. Her lack of control over the situation only served to fuel her lack of control now.

Silver orbs tainted with madness watched as the gun that had been pressed against her temple flew through the air and spun on its side as it landed against the cement floor. She didn’t look at him straight away but instead listened to what he had to he say. His words came to her with all the clearness of mud and it required far too much time to process and filter though few words came through loud and clear. Selfish. Cowardly. Her head tilted to the side and the look on her face as her eyes met his was one of confusion. She didn’t understand his anger. This was all stuff. It could be fixed but she would never get back the time that was taken from her. He took that from her. She would never be able to bring back the two men she was forced to kill because of her sister. She would never be able to make that choice for herself and that needed to be acknowledged even if it meant a bullet in her own brain.

The gun he held out to her stayed there and she made no move to take it from him. Was he really going to dare her? No. This was not the time for his anger. He was not going to turn it on her like that. “Selfish *****? Really?” That….pushed her over the edge and her icy tone was barely audible as she released her hold on Satine. Part of her wanted to run away and hide somewhere while she licked her proverbial wounds but the part that won refused to back down. He towered over her, more than usual and his appearance was frightening but that didn’t stop her from stepping out of that frozen moment and into a blur of motion as she charged the short distance to drive the heels of her hands into his chest with all the strength she could muster only to chase after him, lashing out with all the hurt and anger that currently coursed through her veins.

Razor sharp claws slashed and clawed at his chest, even caught his cheek once or twice in her frenzied attack. Later she would feel bad. Later she would wonder how she could do such a thing but right now none of that mattered. Her judgement had been taken hostage and in its place was whole other monster. A monster that almost smiled when she grabbed her husband and threw him into the side of one of the random cars that filled the space.

Did she really think that she wasn’t being selfish? Micah understood that she wasn’t in her right mind. She was angry and she was lashing out. He could understand and accept that but she had taken it too far by bringing Satine to his garage. Those two were like oil and water. How could she even consider his garage as a place for the confrontation that had inevitably happened? They had wrecked his bike. His windshield on his truck was shattered, in pieces much like Satine and Vel’s relationship. The window could be repaired but could the relationship? Not that there was much of one there but could there be in the future? Looking around at the destruction the killer wasn’t too sure and that was entirely on him. He’d made Satine into what she was, without bothering to ask his wife how she felt. It didn’t matter if he thought he was doing the right thing. He hadn’t given either a choice.

The heels of her hands hit him harder than he had expected and he went stumbling backwards with the force of her hit. His temper, already through the roof and extremely volatile, flared dangerously but he stopped himself. This was what he wanted to happen. It was what he had been waiting for since the night he’d sired Satine. Her emotions were all over the place and she was still struggling to come to terms. She needed to let it out. Keeping her rage at him over the situation bottled up wasn’t doing her any good. Micah had known she was a ticking time bomb on the verge of exploding. But instead of lashing back and giving as good as he got, he did nothing. He stood there like an immovable wall and let her take it out on him. The killer never flinched as her claws tore threw his shirt, ripping at his skin. Not even when she grabbed him and threw him with a force he didn’t know she possessed. His back hit the door of the truck and the only sound he made was a grunt as air hissed out between his teeth. Blood dripped off the side of his face and his body ached but he didn’t give her the satisfaction. He’d die before he showed her an ounce of weakness.

And then out of nowhere another body flew threw the air and hit his wife, tackling her to the ground. The curse that pierced the air around them had him getting to his feet. He could only watch as Satine appeared out of nowhere, coming to his defence. While it was flattering in a way it was also unnecessary. Micah and Vel had had their share of knock down, drag out fights. Absently his hand came up to rub at a spot on his neck where there was a small scar. A souvenir of an epic battle of wills between husband and wife where she’d stabbed him with an ink pen. It was one of the few that left behind a scar, scars that he wore proudly. Satine jumping to his defense now of all times….it was only going to make it worse and it was in that moment that he remembered why they were there. This **** was going to come to an end and it was going to end now.

Approaching the brawling pair his slid his fingers into Satine’s hair first, curling the ebony locks around his fingers in a vice grip before giving his wife the same treatment. What one felt, the other felt. Good. He hoped it hurt like a mother ******. Giving a sharp, unsympathetic tug he ripped them apart, lifting them off of the floor allowing them to dangle in his grasp. “Enough!” He hissed at them, the word coming out garbled and raspy. He gave them each a shake and as he did he felt a few strands of hair come loose in his hands. Setting them on their feet he shoved them in seperate directions. “Sit the **** down. Y’all gonna fix this **** or Imma get the whip Vel got me and beat both ya asses with it. Ain’t fuckin round no more. You hear me?” He was serious. If they wanted to continue, he’d follow through with his threat. They had pushed him to his breaking point and now they were going to face the firing squad.

Given the time Velveteen might have gotten past that small glimmer of satisfaction that sparked within her, though the physical damage was nothing compared to the hot pot of emotion that bubbled beneath the surface of her not so calm exterior. Given the chance she may have even started to regret the attack against her husband. Maybe. She was so off tap right now, so far removed from the usually in control and emotionally stable woman, that there was really no telling how she might have reacted...if given the chance. However any possible notion towards regret or apology would ever remain an unrealised thought forgotten the moment those small, balled fists started raining down on her. The intense burning of her scalp, under other circumstances might have had her feeling some entirely different. Unfortunately this was not one of those times and her fingers came up to curl about sister’s wrist while attempting to fend off the punches.

Did she seriously just call her a *****? She wasn’t the one who turned up unannounced and totally disrupted the other’s life. She wasn’t the one who couldn’t ******* sit still long enough to find out what the **** was going on? She wasn’t the one who had cause this whole mess yet she was the *****? Of course she was.

Velveteen’s fingers tightened around the small wrist attached to the hand that was tangled in her hair, a flick of her wrist provided her with the satisfying sounds of bones snapping as Satine’s hand was bent back unnaturally. Pain ripped up her own arm and her hand was rendered momentarily useless almost immediately but it was worth it. Again, the glimmer of satisfaction. She could take the pain as long as the other felt it too. In the state of mind she was in she would also be spiteful enough to not heal it just to make her sister suffer that much longer. **** her. “Who’s the ***** now?” She hissed through clenched teeth, grateful for the respite offered as soon as the hold on her hair disappeared. That respite, however was short lived and returned with a vengeance.

The sounds of his obvious displeasure were hissed loud enough for Velveteen to blink in confusion. Both hands came up to drag at his wrists, though her now broken wrist was more a hinderance than a help as she hung there, suspended by her hair. Silver orbs rolled to the side and she grinned, more than pleased to see her sister receiving the same treatment. No wonder her scalp burned so ******* painfully. Her feet flexed and stretched as she searched for the floor to no avail. Seconds was all it took before he set them both on their feet though it it felt much longer. Straight away her hand came up to rub her scalp offering a little relief, though it did nothing to reduce the effects of the scowling glare aimed directly at Micah.

It was just...stuff. Stuff could be replaced. Though guilt would certainly be known to her once she fully assessed the damage done. This wasn’t her plan. Not how she intended it to go. Of course she blamed Satine. Everything was Satine’s fault as far as Velveteen was concerned. The sooner everyone accepted and acknowledged that then the happier she might be. There were no promises. Her teeth ground together as she stood her ground, intent on being difficult and indignant despite the threats. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that her husband would indeed follow through either. More pain for the newly turned sister. More twisted and sadistic glee at that thought.

The truth of the matter was that Velveteen knew better and as angry and whatever else she was at her husband for what had happened, she couldn’t really blame him for what he did. She hated it but she understood it. Narrowed eyes turned toward her identical twin. “Somethings can’t be fixed.” Her words dripping with unrivaled spitefulness before she turned her attention to him once more. “She got ******* shot. Again. She aint thinking bout ****. I’m ******* sick of her running around like she knows…. and she knows **** all. She wants to hurt...I’ll make her ******* hurt and I will enjoy every ******* painful second of it if her teaches her a ******* lesson. You didn’t trust anyone to keep her safe because of me. You can’t trust HER to keep her safe!”

The bickering - no, that was absolutely the wrong word. The hostility that was apparent between the two sisters was driving him up the wall. That alone was enough to send someone running for the hills and had they been anywhere else he’d have let them fight it out. Vel would have come out the winner and Satine would have been beaten to a bloody pulp. Satine was weeks old, newly turned and still trying to find her footing in the vampire world. Vel had almost 4 years on her. It wouldn’t even be a fight. No matter how much the thought tempted him they were in his shop. Ruining his things. The truck he’d worked painstakingly for weeks on; the bike that he kept in immaculate condition - ******* ruined all because of two inconsiderate bitches who were supposed to be ******* adults. It was going to take months before either vehicle was ready to be driven again.

They were talking. Each one trying to outdo the other. His deformed fingers slid into his hair and tried to cover his ears to block it out but the attempt was futile. Their voices were high pitched and shrieking to his ears and the killer just couldn’t take it anymore. “SHUT UP! Just…. shut the **** up. BOTH of you!”

He chose to start with Vel. “You’ve not even ******* tried to fix anything, have you? No don’t ******* interrupt me and don’t even bother to try and deny it. Your insides are so twisted with anger and hatred for what I did that you can’t even think straight. If you don’t get the **** over yourself you’re going to turn into one of those bitter ******* shrews that you hate. Is that what you want?” Satine’s shrieking was ignored - for now. “I’m not making excuses for her. Yeah she’s fucked up, but others have fucked up just as badly if not worse. She’s young and if you don’t give her the ******* chance to learn from her mistakes then she ain’t ever going to learn. Hurting her is only going to hurt you in the long run so what exactly is the point in it?” Micah didn’t know why he was even bothering to try. Most of what he said was going to go right in on ear and slide out through the other. She could however, surprise him and actually listen to him but in her current state of mind he wasn’t sure she was capable of listening.

Shooting Vel one last venomous glare his attention zeroed in on Satine. She may be young but she sure as **** wasn’t innocent in this. Once again her big mouth had gotten the best of her and she chose the wrong woman to tangle with. “Could you be any more childish? Resorting to insulting Vel because she popped out first? I think all those drugs you were exposed to as a small child fried what few brain cells you had remaining, girl. Picking fights with people who are clearly older, stronger and wiser than you is a ******* stupid move. You know that right?” This one was going to be trouble with a capital T. It was growing increasingly clear that Satine didn’t know how to hold her tongue and already he was dreading the amount of headaches she was going to cause him. Damn her to hell and back. “You want to get you *** handed to you then so be it. Go at her. I assure you that any hit you manage to land is going to feel like a love tap and I’m the only one that gets to give her those.”

He glared at them both. “Go on. Kill each other if you think that will solve all your ******* problems. But once you’re both battered and ******* bloody it ends there. After that if either of you raise a hand to the other I’m going to kick both your asses. I refuse to deal with this sibling rivalry for an eternity. So get your **** together and kiss and make up. Then when you’re done with that? Get a ******* broom cause you bitches have a lot of ******* cleaning to do.”

Rage silenced her and the word vomit that spewed from her sister’s ungrateful mouth was little more than white noise that fell on deaf ears. Velveteen was done listening except that she completely contradicted herself as soon as Micah started talking. The moment she opened her mouth to respond he silenced her again. Every vile, bitter emotion that dwelt within her rose like acid in her mouth, the taste so disgusting she couldn’t help but grimace. It was true, she hadn’t given her sister a chance. It was true that she blamed her husband. It was also true that Velveteen was just bitter in general at this point. She resented being where she was right now. She resented that he would even try and defend Satine right now, whether he was or not that was how she viewed it.

The muscles around her jaw tensed tightly as she ground her teeth together, struggling to keep her silence. Black, pointed nails dug into the flesh of her palms, the pain the only thing currently keeping her from laughing like a raving ******* lunatic in both their faces. Nothing here was doing anything to ease her anger. Nothing being said was doing anything to make her feel better about anything. It was feeding her rage to the point that she struggled to keep herself in check before she did something that she knew she would regret.

Her silver gaze met him defiantly. He was telling them to kill each other? It sounded too good to be true and it was. The dark haired, vampire snorted. Kiss and make up? Not ******* likely. Not gonna happen no way no how. Her head began to rock and forth slowly at first before becoming a full on defiant shake of her head. “I aint doin **** with her. I will come back and clean up on my own but I not with her. She is your ******* problem. If you give a **** about me at all...teach the retarded ***** how not to get herself ******* injured cause I am ******* over it.” With that she turned her back on both and began storming toward to the roller door, kicking a stray spanner that had fallen with enough force to embed it in the wall.

The button to open the automatic doors was pressed and as she waited while the motor sprang to life and began lifting the metal door she half turned to glare at her husband. “I ******* love you. But this is by the far the most fucked up thing ever. Let me know when you work out what’s important to you. Just know...if stupid there fucks up at the wrong time? It could be the difference between me surviving or ending up in the fade.” Pain and disappointment shone brightly in those monochromatic orbs that pinned him, this was not how it was supposed to go.