Path of the Vampire forum

The cool night air was highly refreshing after Christof’s drink, and he paused to take it in. His hand hovered over the door to the bar, only resting there an extra moment before letting it swing shut, silencing the crowding chatter behind him. He moved his gaze from the overhanging clear sky to the figure he perused at a leisurely pace. All dark hair, heels and curves, he couldn’t help but lick his lips in a predatory fashion. Her lack of dining ability had given him some suspicions on his current walking partner, whom had yet to provide a name, or much of a story really. He’d always been partial to getting to know his victims, creating a bit of history and intimacy before he took their lives. The look of surprise or betrayal only made the art more beautiful in his eyes, especially when it came to vampires. Those who thought they were getting a meal, only to end up on the menu. A pretty one like this, so young, was a rare and precious find, and he wanted to savor it especially well.

Slipping into step beside her, his gloved hands found a place half in his pockets. His posture was leisurely and relaxed, a comfortable stride matching hers. Deciding perhaps he needed to be more direct with this one, who was not as delicate as he’d assumed at first, he bowed his head and spoke up without moving his gaze from her face. “I am Christof. I am introducing myself not proper in da bar.” He would have offered her a handshake, but felt more amused by the situation. Enough so to instead offer a smooth half bow, one that barely interrupted his stride and never took away from his gaze. He didn’t push much farther for her name. If she wouldn’t give it now, then perhaps he might think on it later when he had her pinned and screaming, watching the rising threat of the sun.

“I am seeing you are not new to da city? You are being here long, no?” He felt the press of his favorite knife against his back, but calmed his eagerness. It wouldn’t due to rush things, as doing so always ruined the result. He wanted this to be his favorite piece. Perhaps after he would move on from this city at last, if he was satisfied with it. Usually he made a habit of showing his art to his last victim, though. He tipped his head, thoughtful. It would be a bit out of the way to pick up a second victim, and vampires were so hard to keep still while he dealt with other needs. No, he’d have to save that for a human as he usually did, though the challenged was enticing. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to find a vampire in the next city to try it on. Assuming he could find anymore. For as teeming as Harper Rock was with the leeches, he’d never really encountered them beforehand. Then again he’d never really been a Blood Thief then either, or known much that such creatures had even existed. It had been simpler times then.

Perhaps he could tell this one a little fun story, if he could pin her down long enough without killing her too soon. He hadn’t told his story to a victim since New York, and that had been a special case. Three weeks he’d grown close to that one before finally using him. One of his favorite pieces for sure. He idly brushed a lock of dark hair back from his face, listening carefully to her answer and studying her expressions as she spoke. It was an honest, open sort of interest, one of the very few humane parts about the young serial killer. “I am being come Milan, Italy. We having a saying there, for night like this. Capita a fagiolo.[.i] Occuring at da bean. Being da right time, right place, you say here.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Many are saying here dey understand not Italian saying. Here you say ‘Breaking leg’, I asking why? We say ‘into da wolfs mouth’, and ‘may wolf be dying’. Into mouth and he choking and dying. Much better, not be breaking own leg. Dis is making much more sense, I am thinking.”

He followed her lead. She grinned to herself as her heels clacked on the sidewalk seductively, head lowered so her smile gave nothing away and quickly shifted into the predator mode she'd trained herself to adopt during her time away. Until she'd learned to play the game, hunting had never pleased her. In fact, part of her was made sick by feeding on the innocent at first. But to find someone with no innocence was when she played her game most whole-heartedly. And her Memory Reading ability had allowed her flashes of bloody scenes. She knew nothing of why, but no one with blood filled memories was innocent. No, not even herself these days.
His footsteps caught up to her and from the corner of her eye she could see he was relaxed and perfectly contented to keep step.

“I am Christof. I am introducing myself not proper in da bar.”

I've failed to introduce myself also; I'm Silo. She was always careful not to give away her name to her dinner rations. Lest their dazed state clear and that be one of the few things they recall.

“I am seeing you are not new to da city? You are being here long, no?”

I've been here nearly a year, I settled in here pretty quickly. Even have work to go to every day, partially why i just couldn't bring myself to drink. I start and just can't stop it seems! ... But who can deny a beautiful night, right? The sky's more visible than my hometown.
She watched the streets, still teeming with people. Or it seemed to be the case. Honestly if they could just clear off she could lead him away from the streets, witness free. He was lost in his own thoughts for a moment but continued the conversation in a remarkably non-awkward span of time.

“I am being come Milan, Italy. We having a saying there, for night like this. Capita a fagiolo.[.i] Occuring at da bean. Being da right time, right place, you say here.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Many are saying here dey understand not Italian saying. Here you say ‘Breaking leg’, I asking why? We say ‘into da wolfs mouth’, and ‘may wolf be dying’. Into mouth and he choking and dying. Much better, not be breaking own leg. Dis is making much more sense, I am thinking.”

Silhouette was unsure what wolves and broken legs he was talking about but shook her head and gave him a smile, her extended teeth covered flawlessly by her bottom lip. She'd practiced this also. Lest she laugh while luring in her prey and give away her darker intentions. Something in the success of her human disguise was sickeningly ironic. She'd clung so tightly to her own humanity, unforgivingly denying herself the new needs of her body... and only when she'd accepted she was not Silhouette anymore was she able to be Silhouette. A new one.
"Not much sense, i'm afraid. But that's okay. I don't need you to make a lot of sense... it's just nice to have a companion." She glanced at him, doe-eyed, genuinely enjoying the socializing before her imminent feeding.
"I guess I've just been alone far too long for my own good."

Chistof let his head tilt, hair cascading to the side with the action. "Si," he agreed. "Being alone for too much can be bad for health. Is being good to have company, sense making or no." He reached out, touching her arm ever so lightly with a gloved set of fingers. He cast her a long, intimate look with a secretive smile. "But if you are asking me, there is being such ting as too many company." His gaze slipped past, focusing on the many people around them meaningfully. Returning his eyes to 'Silo', he tipped his head in a gesture to the side. "I am knowing a better place, if I am not be speaking outside of my teeth to offer." Yes, he'd decided. He would get to know this one quite well before he dealt with her. He realized, at this point, what had drawn him to her. With her dark hair and pretty features, she'd reminded him of a maid he'd had as a boy. She'd been so kind to him, until his father had fired her. A part of what remained of his humanity missed her, but it was a small part. Had he seen the woman now, she'd probably have been his favorite victim. Instead he would make due with a good look alike.

Silhouette nodded in agreement as Christoff expressed his sentiments of the horrors of too much company. He was right, but his voice carried motive and she could feel it. Intuition pulled her stomach inward but she met his lingering gaze with a wide-eyed innocent agreement.

"I am knowing a better place, if I am not be speaking outside of my teeth to offer."

Silhouette looked away with intentional shyness and gave another human-masked grin as she leaned into his gloved touch. One way or another she would taste blood, but she wished she could have kept his company longer. He was almost entirely pleasant but more like an endearing pet chicken that one knew would soon be taken to slaughter. Although his slaughter would be confusion, she tried to never feed from the same person twice. She'd never see him again once she got what she wanted.

"I think that sounds wonderful.She laced her arm behind and under his, pulling it so that it pressed against her. her arm brushed at pants height and she thought for a moment she might have accidentally done something far to brash for a proverbial chicken hunter. Her face twisted into a closed-mouthed smirk as she felt something not-belt-like. It was a classic "is there a knife in your pants or are you really happy to see me" moment. She'd be wary of this man, but now she at least knew he was armed under his coat. She gripped his arm into her tighter as if she were making intimate contact and allowed him to lead her somewhere alone. Those who might be watching would have been convinced they were finding privacy for far less appropriate reasons.

The easy response was amusing, and he casually guided her like any proper couple might, though neither of the pair could be considered ‘proper’ in any sense. He chattered on lightly as he led her away from the main streets, tossing a few ideas in his mind. There was a little tucked away building he knew he could use, and had used once before without being discovered. While he walked along back streets, he told her about Milan, and how his father would take his brothers for trips down Sardinia, a large island off the coast. He spoke with little affection for the older man, but when he spoke of his younger brothers there was an unusual warmth in his tone. “Damiano was always being da quiet one, he is youngest of us, but Tito... He always speak open, out of teeth. Both very smart, da two of them. Here we are..” He stepped away from Sil, pulling aside a plank of wood and showing off a small gap in the wall of the building. It was just barely large enough for each of them to slip through without too much grief, tucked away in a small alley behind the warehouse. “After you, signorana,” he invited, bowing smoothly.

Silhouette listened as Christof chattered about family and home. She smiled carefully, laughed lightly in places, and all the while continued to brush against him in various places, checking for other items that could feel less than pleasant. She'd found nothing but the knife. That was reassuring at least. In return for the stories about his life, she talked as well. Perhaps because she needed to, or perhaps to continue the facade of humanity. She still felt a chill as she mentioned Liam.

"This place is about as close to home as it gets. Got stranded up here after my fiance died in a car accident. Still can't decide if i should have been there with him. I was the quiet one, then." She wasn't lying exactly. She hadn't been in the car with him when he died, not exactly. She also couldn't decide if she meant it or not. But she was what she was. There was no taking it back really.

Christof guided her through a planked over hole. She knew he was up to something and felt an upcoming struggle being unavoidable, causing her to tense, ready to react more quickly than normal if necessary. But conversation was delightful, and she wanted to soak in as much socializing as she could before leaving this man in a stupor.

An honest sort of sympathy was forced into Christof’s eyes at the mention of her fiance. “I am sorry to be hearing dis,” he spoke soothingly, offering just the lightest, most polite touch to her shoulder to add to his words. Here, his gesture spoke. [/i]Look at how much I care.[/i] “It is seeming you and I are having this to share. We both are being da type to speak behind our teeth, for our own raisins.”

At her discomfort with the entrance he simply smiled. “After me,” he offered in a humored way, slipping through the opening and holding it for her. The inside of the building was somewhat decrepit, but it was obvious there had been great pains to restore the interior to some degree. Boxes and debris had been cleared away, dust had been swept up, and a couple of carpets had been unrolled in a sort of path towards a set of metal stairs that led to an upper landing. Windows lined the walls above, dark as the offices behind them. The lower floor was windowless, but skylights with sheets pulled over them cast mysteriously beautiful patterns across the floor, lighted by the stars and moon overhead. “It is nice, are you tinking? Da real view is being up.” He gestured up towards the darkened windows, offering a smile that was both invitingly innocent and slightly suggesting.

A light touch on her shoulder made her hyper-aware. Somehow she felt different than how she'd been hunting. It wasn't her directing the physical contact and somehow it made the socializing seem real. At least almost. She needed no reminding that she was aiming for a mobile meal. He slid through the opening and held open the boards and Silhouette ducked through, looking around as she straightened up.

Her eyes swept across the building, at the cleared floor and the moonlight falling lightly through the windows like gossamer. He'd made a bit of effort in this abandoned building and Sil wondered just how long he'd been here to put this place together.

“It is nice, are you tinking? Da real view is being up.”

"I think it looks wonderful, you've really been putting this place together? Does no one notice?." She spoke softly, eyes glistening happily with the faint light. Perhaps she'd find her own abandoned place and have a set up similar. Although the place would definitely have more of a womanly touch.

The corners of Silhouette's closed mouth pulled back into a small smile and she approached the stairs, looking around still as she stepped up the metal, hearing her heels echo through the warehouse, licking her lips as she considered the first bite she could take into Christof's throat. And enjoying a starry view while doing so.

A soft sort of laugh left Christof's lips. He seemed to laugh easily, finding humor in a great many things. Especially here, in Canada, where it was so different from his own home. His father had always thought Christof as weak, being born from no more than a servant he'd toyed with. If only he could have the man here now, to show him how strong he was. Too bad that wasn't such an option. He'd killed the man long ago, and enjoyed every minute, every hour of it.

Their feet made the softest noise of boots on metal. Christof's, much like a predator, made almost no noise at all. Only the light flit of his coat and the ruffle of cloth could be picked out, and only with great care. It was their voices that carried the most, and even then he spoke gently. "No, never. This place is abandon, lost in paperwork many year. Children are speaking of haunting, night is in screams. They are daring each-other, but never finding da entrance. So I am keeping place, clean it, making it nice." He stood behind her, opening the door and letting her step into the office.

Here, as well, bits of roof were open and covered in a way that let down colored light. This light, however, was colored crimson, as was everything else in the room. The source of which was obvious almost immediately. Against the back wall, a mound of three corpses torn apart were curled in on one another. Their torso's and arms wrapped about each-other in a makeshift rose, and blood covered the walls and floor around it like painted leaves. Bits of bone added details to the leaves, and legs were removed to make a long stem. In the center of the pile, three skinned skulls peered up, their jaws hanging in silent screams.

The moment they were inside, Christof let the door shut behind him and snapped the lock across. His other hand already had the knife slid out, and he touched a finger to it's tip. "It is not done," he spoke in a sinister, loving sort of way. His eyes swept across her, over to the giant corpse rose. "Three days. This is da fourth. Yours though..." He looked her up and down like he was peeling her skin off with just his stare. "You are perfect moon." Lips curled up, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. "You can scream if you like. No-one ever is hearing."

Silhouette could smell the carnage before she was completely inside the office area. The man she'd chosen for dinner really was off somehow. If anyone knew the smell of corpse, it was her. Particularly after she'd discovered the quarantine zone.

The faint click of a lock and the sound of laughter heightened Silhouettes senses until her mind had gone into a frenzy and it seemed as if she were more agile than usual. The familiar feeling she got when facing down Hunters and Zombies.

A smile played across Silhouettes lips and now while she was turned away from the now labeled serial killer.

"Oh god what is this. What are you doing here?"

She played into the innocent fear most women would have fallen victim to and spun around as she put on her most convincing frightened expression, twisting her face into a grimace of sobbing and false, heavy breath

Christof wrote: "It is not done,"

She watched as the craziness oozed from his inner core. As if he were a water balloon and entering this place had been the needle that pricked him open.

Christof wrote: "Three days. This is da fourth. Yours though..."

His eyes were on her, as if undressing her in a sense but she knew it was no matter of clothing. Not with the bodies wrapped about each other in the corner. Not with that knife now exposed, gripped lovingly in his fist

Christof wrote:"You are perfect moon."

Silhouette cringed with disgust. Her whole body squirmed, waiting for the perfect moment to strike out. she could feel a tension building in her body, like the suspense of a lion pouncing on its prey. Though perhaps he was just as prepared.

Christof wrote:"You can scream if you like. No-one ever is hearing."

And it was then. then that everything in her leaped in a frenzy for this Christof who now assumed she was weak enough to scream. His knife hardly a concern. She would feed and hopefully redirect authorities before he was conscious. Something would be done, but not until she'd satiated her needs. And this twisted freak was on the menu. A sense of animalistic hunger took her over as she grappled for his forearms.