Unholy Sacrament [Every]

[Szabina]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Szabina> Blip, blip, blip… was the first thing she heard as she came to beneath the fluorescent lights of her very own hospital room. Her memories were scattered and fleeting - consequence of poison and one too many blows to the head. Szabina remembered being in the catacombs, then seeking out that one little chamber she’d heard about that was open to the public. They all had unlocked doors, but that didn’t mean she should stay. In her minds eye, she could see herself turning a knob and carefully stepping inside. After that, there were flashes of faces, pain, an ambulance... and that was about it.

Until she woke up in the hospital room to the annoyingly rhythmic blip, blip, blip of the heart monitor. Every inch of her body hurt, but none so much as her head. Glancing to the side, she spotted the morphine drip and its self-dosing apparatus. Her conscience said to bear the pain, but the pounding in her head said to take the morphine, and so she did. Later, she could pray for forgiveness. As her head fell back against the pillow, content to doze in the safety of the hospital, she thought she saw the door open and a figure step inside. God come to save her?


<Every> ’Alexio.’ When the man had shown up on her doorsteps months ago, hell, almost a year ago, Every never thought that she’d be one of the people looking for a missing loved one. His sister, she knew, had been turned. Alexio, though… he had disappeared into thin air and considering the fact she could have tried to triangulate him but was unable to, it unnerved her. His mother had called her multiple times in the past week, worried and frantic as she spoke quickly in an accent that she had to stop and go back over in her mind to understand. With Micah’s email still fresh in her mind, she had left her cabin and gone to search the hospital once more.

She had almost been there an hour when she vaguely recognized the woman that had been wheeled into the hospital, going through the list of humans she’d known and continued on with her business. The woman at the front desk was as helpful as always. Removing her phone from her pocket, she skimmed over her text messages before pausing, looking off in the direction of where the other had been wheeled over as her lips pressed together. A Paladin. Letting time pace and for them to do their thing, Every tucked her phone away and thanked the nurse before walking off to a private area to slide into her shadows. When enough time had passed, she would do it again and eventually, once the last doctor had left, slipped into the room just as her shadows fell away.


<Szabina> Her dreams were anything but peaceful as she lay there in the hard hospital bed. Fuelled by the morphine coursing through her veins, she dreamed of days gone by, both distant and recent. Flashes of memories flicked across the blank canvas beneath her eyelids, cycling from her childhood, through her teenage years, all the way to the paladins digging those needles into her skin again and again, marking her as one of their own.

And then there was the training. Long hours in the darkness to get good at slaying the undead. While everyone else seemed focused on vampires, vampires and more vampires, she’d cared far more for the mindless abominations lurking in the dark. God would take care of the unholy wretches that had once been human, but there was no place in heaven or hell for a being like a zombie, a mooncalf. Worse, the walking ancient skeletons from deep within the catacombs. The feral vampires lurking in the ruins of Gambondale. While everyone else called for the mindless slaughter of a sentient enemy, Szabina focused her energy on slaughtering the mindless hordes of undead lurking in the dark. Yes, the vampires were responsible for their fair share of violence and chaos, but she was not God - it was not her place to act as judge, jury and executioner for damned creatures that should have known better than to accept their lot. No. Her job was to protect, and she’d done her job well. Until…

Gray eyes snapped open and Szabina sat up ramrod straight despite the twinge in her neck and back that told her something was barely holding her together. The thin hospital nightdress was soaked with feverish sweat and her heart raced in an attempt to free itself from the cage of her chest. Blipblipblip. Hardly a pause between each beat. Hardly a pause between each panting breath. Blipblipblip. She could feel someone in the unlit room. It was after lights out, but her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness.

“Who’s there?” She tried to sound strong, sure of herself, but her voice in that darkened, semi-private room came out weak and scared. That weakness made all the more apparent by the fact that whoever was in the room could see and hear the stupid heart monitor. It surprised her that no nurses came running in response to the spike in heart rate, but then again… Harper Rock’s hospitals were both notoriously understaffed and overly occupied.


<Every> She had sat there while the woman slept, shadowing every now and then when she heard the door begin had the two hours wore off in between. Her elbow rest on the arm of the chair, her knuckles resting against her cheek as she watched her quietly in thought. It wasn’t the first time she had come to speak with a Paladin before - Corwin had attacked her for no reason, taking her arm twice in one evening after she healed it. Her dark brown hair had been pulled back away from her face, her jacket abandoned on the back of the chair she had taken occupancy of, but still within grasp if she should have to leave.

Whatever she had been dreaming about, Every doubted it was rainbows and unicorns as she pursed her lips lightly. Getting up as her shadows fell away once more, she went to a window and looked out idly. Dulce had passed along the woman’s ID. Szabina. She had a name to the face and yet, so long as she got her answers, no intent to harm her. She had never heard of this Paladin before that and it almost amused her, really. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a threat, but… the brunette was curious to know why. Others like Eachann and Corwin hadn’t hesitated to attack, although she hadn’t heard a single attack from this one. Her lips pressed lightly into a thin line once more.

Hearing her heart speed up, she turned slightly and watched her sit up. Amusement played across her features at the sound of her heart and breathing before she moved to her chair once more, leaning forward to set her elbows on her thighs. “I’m not here to hurt you, Szabina. I just want to talk.” Her blade was concealed in her jacket, her gun strapped to her ankle, but after a moment, she collected the ‘cell phone’ stun gun her sire had bought her for christmas from her pocket and set it on the arm of the chair. “But if you scream or alert anyone, I will.”


<Szabina> As soon as her eyes located the female form that had invaded her room, the Paladin calmed. Every sense told her to scream, run, hide from this undead creature. The truth was, knowing your enemy’s voice and location made things so much less uncertain than trying to confront a faceless presence. It all came back to sentience; this creature - walking, talking abomination that it was - had a brain and knew how to use it.

Gradually, Szabina’s breathing and heart rate slowed as the nightmares’ urgency passed. This was real and she had reason to fear, but it wasn’t a mindless, numbing terror the same as watching your pointless life flash by in an instant. Those gray eyes squinted in the darkness, trying to catch the creature’s features in the light of the flashing monitors. It was difficult, but she could make out certain details, like the athletic silhouette of the walking corpse. Finally, once the heart monitor’s metronome had returned to a calm, steady, blip, blip, blip, Bina lay back against the pillows, trying her best to let what was left of the morphine wash away the adrenaline in her system. If the vampire wanted to kill her, she’d have done so by now. This one wasn’t part of the group that had attacked her.

“Then talk,” she demanded with the haughty superior of one with a higher purpose. “It’s not like I can stop you or leave.”


<Every> She crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in her chair as her hazel eyes moved to the door while footsteps moved in their direction only to hear them fade away. “Patience is a virtue.” She considered reaching over and smacking her upside the head for the tone while rolling her eyes, “And I suppose you can’t, no. I assume you know what I am given you went from seemingly unsettled to calm once more.” Every looked at the woman once more, eventually considering to turn on the bedside lamp before ultimately getting up and opening the curtains to allow more of the natural light to fill the room.

“So. You’re a Paladin. You entered a vampire’s lair today, and now you’re laying in a hospital bed. Thing is,” Every went back to her chair after a few moments, “I’d never heard of you until you did. So, Szabina, something tells me you aren’t like Eachann or the others. Are you a part of the Order of St. James?” She knew of it. She had been part of the group to bring down Ezequiel and it amused her vaguely, “Hell bent on exterminating the ‘vermin’ of this city?” She asked.


<Szabina> Her jaw remained clamped firmly shut as the vampire spoke. Patience was something she had in spades, just not for a damned creature. But Szabina kept that information to herself, walling her negative thoughts away for later as she offered a silent nod. The vampire’s assumption was correct, though it unnerved her to hear her name on this monster’s lips. At least there was light, now.

“I was looking for a place in the mausoleum that I heard was safe. Something to do with Solace and the half-wit vampire that runs those silly protection meetings.” She hitched her shoulders in a shrug, but stopped mid motion on a flinch. Something felt wrong in there. “When I walked inside the wrong door, I was knocked unconscious by a bunch of booby traps. Woke up here,” she waved a hand, vaguely indicating the room. Not that she owed anyone an explanation, but it was better than staring at the wall.

“I am a member of the Order, yes, but I don’t agree with how they plan to go about exterminating the vermin, as you say.” Another shrug, though this one stopped short of moving whatever hurt. “Your kind are sentient beings and will submit to God’s wrath sooner or later. I have always been more concerned with the monsters incapable of fearing His holy wrath. The things that can’t bother to hide themselves or think things through. So no. I’m not like the others.”


<Every> “Oh, that one,” She gave a light roll of her eyes, “Half-wit is only the beginning. He’s about ten times worse.” She frowned before she watched the woman quietly and pursed her lips. The smell of blood still lingered in the air and she gave a slight nod, “That makes sense. I know the rest of you ending up here.” Her faction mates had done it, after all. As she listened to the woman quietly, she managed not to roll her eyes once more. “Too many bad things happen to good people, not particularly one to believe in a ‘higher power’.”

Her knuckles pressed into her cheek once more as her elbow returned to the arm of the chair, leaning into it as she got comfortable, “You Paladin amuse me. Not all of us are actually terrible creatures. We have our sorts of crazy, though.” Thinking about Solace and Lux, Every shook her head lightly as she narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her. “The things in the catacombs, I’m guessing?” She smirked. “That would explain the lack of knowing anything about you.”


<Szabina> Despite this thing being spurned by God, at least they could agree on something: Solace guy was bad news. She ignored the comment about this vampire’s irreligious nature - of course she didn’t believe in a higher power, but Bina’s expression remained perfectly neutral as she listened to the rest. She wasn’t particularly pleased to hear that her plight was amusing, but now was hardly the time to submit to pride or wrath. Her lips, still smudged with the semi-permanent purple lipstick that she always wore, pressed into a thin, contemplative line.

“God works in mysterious ways,” she hedged, giving another non-committal wave of her hand towards the crucifix stapled to the wall near the door. “Each of us are tried and tested and tempted; maybe being turned into an unholy monster is His test for some people.” The woman, once again, gave a painful shrug. “I’m not here to judge people capable of judging themselves, and as far as I’m aware, vampires were once people. The things in the catacombs aren’t people. Never were people…” she paused, “Well, maybe the zombies, but there’s nothing human about them anymore, other than the shape.”

The fact that the vampire hadn’t introduced herself was starting to bug, Szabina. May as well ask. “Who are you?”

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Every> “Humans are already unholy, Szabina, they’re already monsters. Nothing particularly changes and from over my time as a vamp, I’ve noticed the only real differences is that I’m stronger, and they are weaker - Paladin aside.” She lifted one shoulder before allowing it to fall, “I don’t know anything about the zombies, really. Happened before my turning.” She leaned forward partially, stretching out her back muscles, “Mooncalf, not sure.” She frowned, thinking about the other creatures in the maus and catacombs. How much did this Paladin know about what lurked in the dark? It almost made her concerned.

“My name is Eve.” She didn’t give her full name and given the fact her face was in the shadows, she doubted the other would be able to recognize her unless she had her ID already. Plausible, given her line of work, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Paladin focusing on those though… how did you come across the Order?” She lifted an eyebrow in quiet pondering.


<Szabina> The Paladin didn’t comment on the holiness (or lack thereof) of humans. They were flawed, yes, but that didn’t make them wrong. The things that were wrong, like the zombies, mooncalves and other strange things… They were dangerously wrong. While vampires fed, they didn’t necessarily kill. The other creatures didn’t know where or when to stop, or how to conceal themselves. “Eve. Interesting, for someone who claims to not be religious,” she commented, but her words were nothing more than idle chatter, though at this point she had nothing to lose by answering..

“I was attacked by a vampire - feral one. The Order took me in and I learned from them.” It really was all the explanation that was necessary.


<Every> “My parents were creative.” She said more about her full name than the nickname she’d gone by, but she saw her point. “I used to be religious before I saw what’s waiting on the other side.” That was fair enough, really. Every still wasn’t quite sure if she had really seen the other side after Micah’d slammed her against the wall, but she’d seen enough of the shadow realm to be content as undead. And stay that way. Her lips pressed together at the mention of a feral vampire, “Yeah… those are nasty. Rogues aren’t too much better.”



<Szabina> Quite frankly, she didn’t know the difference between a feral and a rogue, but she didn’t say so. She simply kept quiet, slowly sinking down under the blanket and allowing the blipping of her heart monitor remind her that she was indeed still alive as she pumped more morphine through her veins. Apparently enough time had passed to warrant a second dose of pain-free lucidity. She let that initial haze cloud her mind, but it cleared quickly enough.

“What did you want in coming here?” she asked, twisting to get more comfortable before suddenly being overcome with vertigo. Her hand shot out to grip the metal rail of the bed and she gasped for breath, without seeming to inhale anything of value. That slight movement had caused something inside her to squish. It felt wrong, like a water balloon popping deep inside her gut. Because of the morphine, it didn’t hurt and she couldn’t bring herself to worry, even as the heart rate monitor went berserk.

<Every> “You should probably stop moving around.” Every’s eyebrow lifted lightly as she crossed one leg over the other before considering what she had asked, pondering on her answer. “I wanted to know why you hadn’t been known.” And she had got her answers, impressed that she had been honest. “If you could see vampires aren’t the disease spreading creatures and unholy as you said, would you take the time to observe?” She asked.

As she gasped for breath, the brunette’s hazel eyes moved to the heart rate monitor that had been tampered with, the alert that would go to the nurses had been disabled with the help of her custom. Every studied her features, “Would you give your loyalty to those that you wouldn’t expect?” Admittedly, she was also concerned to why she hadn’t been lied to - the heart monitor would have told her unless she were a talented liar. “And why,” she questioned, “have you not lied to me?”


<Szabina> Why yes indeed, she probably should stop moving, though now that she was twisted onto her side, moving back seemed like an equally bad idea. Instead, Szabina just stayed very still and focused on breathing in those short little gasps that seemed to be slowly getting more and more shallow. She wasn’t an anatomical specialist by any means, but it felt like something was preventing her lungs from expanding. The blood rushing through her veins echoed in her aching skull and made hearing all but impossible.

It seemed rather strange that that frantic blipping hadn’t drawn any attention from the world outside the door to this crappy semi-private room. It also seemed strange that the vampire - Eve - was just sitting there, watching her flail and calmly asking her strange little questions that seemed far less important than how she felt like she was dying. But those questions provided a welcome distraction, at least.

“I’d... have to see it…. to believe it,” she gasped, those gray eyes bulging slightly, “but it… isn’t my place… to judge. Loyalty goes… to… people who’ve… earned it. And God.” She nodded, but even that small movement made her dizzy, and so she let herself fall back onto the bed, mostly horizontal, which seemed to make everything so much worse. At least she could still see the crucifix. “Lying is immoral,” she whispered, finally letting her eyes fall shut to simply focus on breathing - on staying alive until someone came to do whatever nurses and doctors did for someone in her condition. She didn’t want to die, and so she fought to remain conscious even as that blip blip blip sped and sped before finally, after she’d lost consciousness, went flat and monotone.


<Every> She had injected a hemotoxic venom into the woman’s morphine drip, the intention to kill her that way rather than physically do it herself while she watched her without another word escaping past her lips as she listened. She avoided the snort when religion had mentioned, but from what Every had seen of her clothing before the hospital gown, she supposed that Szabina was some sort of nun. “I have the feeling you will.” Something drew her to the woman and she appreciated the lack of lies that had gone about. However… she narrowed her eyes lightly in thought.

“Micah’s going to kill me.” She thought to herself as she rolled up her sleeve and removed her blade from it’s spot in her jacket, running the sharp end across her pale skin enough that the inky black substance came out. “Vel, too.” Every reached over to separate Szabina’s lips, feeding her blood to the Paladin with a determined expression played across her features. Even with Hadrian, she hadn’t made a mistake to date and something told her that it wouldn’t be one now. “Well, I’m saving your *** now from death.” She muttered, waiting.


<Szabina> After she’d taken her final breath and closed her eyes, Szabina thought the next time she woke, she’d find herself at the pearly gates, awaiting paradise. If that’s what this was, she’d been screwed. The darkness was as complete as the silence. It took her a few moments to realize that she wasn’t just a blob of consciousness; she still had control of her arms and legs, albeit they felt distant, leaded. As the pins and needles slowly withdrew, she reached out to feel the walls around her, metallic and cold.

This wasn’t right. Was she not dead? There was a scent on the stale air like something preserved, but left outside just a bit too long, and that smell triggered something. A memory from years gone by. It smelled like the morgue where she and her mother had gone to identify the body of someone she’d been too young to remember. They hadn’t let her anywhere near the bodies, but she remembered the sterile smell that didn’t quite mask the scent of dead things. ‘What if they buried me alive!?’ Frantic, the former Paladin let out a shriek, kicking and scratching at the walls until suddenly, light flooded the rectangular chamber and she was wheeled out, blinking and muttering incoherently to herself.


<Every> Time was a funny thing and Every had been waiting for a while, picking at her fingernails as she leaned against one of the Morgue walls once more, taken to her shadows. In between the wait, she had gone to collect a set of clothes for the now dead woman. Adjusting her bag over her shoulder, she watched the employees trickle out with words to themselves and others. Just as the doors clicked shut, she counted down on her watch to when the shadows would pull back.

She removed a white teeshirt and jeans from her bag, not exactly nun wear, but she figured it was either that or be stark naked for Szabina when the banging began. She pulled out the drawer, fixing the female with a dark glare. “Keep it down, Szabina. And welcome to the world of vampirism.” She set the clothes on her stomach, stepping away afterwards, “Get dressed. I have things to discuss with you, starting with who I am, the rules, and then the masquerade.” She smirked softly, lifting her eyebrow, “At least you look good for a dead chick.”


<Szabina> Shock registered on her face as she took in her surroundings, her clothing - if you could consider the white morgue pre-autopsy sheet an article of clothing. Those grey eyes reflected the sterile white of the room, making her seem nearly blind in the glowing lights. Thankfully the fangs hadn’t broke through yet - that would come later. For now, she quieted as she’d been told and listened to this woman. Eve. The ***** that ate the forbidden fruit and then coerced others into taking a bite.

Clutching that sheet to her chest, she looked at the clothing she was being offered - standard stuff she’d worn only months ago. Using that sheet as a privacy screen, too numb to argue, the woman slipped into the jeans and offered shirt before stuffing the sheet back on the table with a shudder. It was only then that she noticed the little piece of off-white cardboard tied around her toe. Reaching down, she retrieved it. “Jane Doe,” she mouthed in muted horror before going right back to the soft muttering she’d been doing all along and crossing herself out of pure reflex.

Horrible as it was… she hadn’t wanted to die. She didn’t want to die. And she wasn’t dead. Her guts twisted again as Eve’s words sank in. ‘Vampirism. Not dead, but damned…’ Numbly, silently, she listened to the woman who’d changed her, arms folded over her chest against a cold that had nothing to do with the room.


<Every> “I’m your sire, which, for the record, my name is Every. Eve is a nickname.” She pronounced it correctly, tucking her hair behind her ears before she dug out a jacket, “And I turned you because I liked what I saw, what I heard and you are an honest person.” She offered the jacket to the woman afterwards, “Let’s go back to my apartment, it’s quieter there and I have a few blood bags, unless you’d like to try to actually feed.” She removed a pair of boots after, “I’ll fix things with the morgue owner later.” Her lips pressed together lightly, “Forget what you knew about vampires when it came to naturally wanting to hunt us. That Solace half-wit? His name is Robert Pratt, I suggest you avoid him. He’s an entirely other type of crazy.”

After a few moments, she paused before continuing as she waited for the other to get dressed, “And if you spill what type of creature you are, you will be hunted. If you kill guards, you will be hunted. When you feed, make sure there aren’t many people about, I try blood bags, or ask me and I’ll heal you one.” She reached over to grab her arm, tugging her off the table, “But for now, talk of the masquerade and other things need to be done elsewhere.” It could be said she dragged her childe out of the Morgue without hesitation.