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He was with her, one hundred and ten percent. Maximos was entirely out of his social element, and Izette was his leader and guide through the mysterious world that was the espionage night life.

She said,Shut up and follow my lead, and Maximos did exactly that. He took step beside her as they made their way across the street, and then back. He slipped towards the line with her, avoiding eye contact with anyone but trying his best to match their pale and withdrawn expressions. Maximos walked with a sort of formality to his step, and he did his best to toss it aside for something more slacken and less noticeable. And then it seemed successful. The character, he supposed, was working. He could imagine it now. The sort of man who has woman at his beckon call, who plays their hearts like strings, who makes any woman beside him feel and look like the queen of the world until he's done with her and then she's tossed out back. Here. In this alley. A dark garbage filled place. A sort of dark amoral prince in a darker amoral world.

Maximos sort of liked it. Izzy slipped towards the brickwall and Maximos moved in a few steps behind her and simply folded his arms over his chest taking on a look of casual disinterest for anyone who may be watching. And then she found something, it was blocked by few bags of trash and too close to the dumpster for him to expect it, but there was a second entrance to the building! Succe--

What the fleeb?! Maximos didnt even hear the pow. He only knew that all of a sudden his shirt was being pulled, his boots slipped on a puddle of Hell only knew what canceling any attempt at defending himself and he was crashing face first into Izette's face. He just managed to throw out one arm so that it hit the brick behind her and supported him enough to make it so their faces would not collide, so much as forcefully meet. But then with her free hand she grabbed his head and pulled his face right to her face, and his lips pressing right to her lips.

They were kissing. And before he could even put words or any sort of complete thought to the fact her lips were touching his, her tongue was slipping its way past those lips! Maximos' entire body froze. For an instant, it was as if Izzy was pressed against a mannequin, or a statue, or some sort of absolutely lifeless thing made of pale flesh-like material and baring a set of increasingly, violently, intense eyes.

Maximos' head was halfway between calculating exactly the way her small dress worked, and how to counter attack. And then he heard the guard. Izette melted in front of him. Her leg move almost serpentine around him and pressed him against her. Suddenly, he understood. Maximos did not know what to do, but what would the dark prince do?

Before he could map it out, or explain to himself all the reasons he should not, Maximos threw himself headlong into the moment. Her warmth washed against him, and melted him like ice on a summer day. Maximos' body pressed against hers, hard muscle crushed up against the smooth line of her body. His free hand moved up, behind her head and through the black hair at the base of her neck, finding a grip there. Their lips met again and again in the few seconds it took for the door to open, but open it did.

“What the hell are you two doing?” His voice was almost the sound of a growl. The Dark Prince couldnt be bothered by such a thing and made a casual dismissing wave in his direction. Izette however, pushed him away and immediately the Prince took on a playfully offended pout. It seemed despite their sneakiness, they were busted. Instantly Izette began to adjust her clothing and hair. Taking the character cue, Maximos looked at the guard, then at his flashlight and immediately put on his afraid face.

“Oh, we were just...my goodness this is embarrassing.” Izette gave Max a silent nod as she continued to speak with the bouncer. Maximos stuttered a bit, and played right along. "I-I-I, em, erm...um...look officer we just..."

As she continued to stammer with her words nervously the bouncer man exited the building and began to advance. Maxios backed away from Izzy in slow tactical steps as if he suddenly wanted nothing to do with her, or the guard, or any of this. With Izette "working" her clothing as she was it was almost too easy to slip from the guards notice entirely and dressed in all black allow Maximos to fade into the darkness of the alley and out of notice. The guard, Maximos was almost entirely sure would try and exact...payment...for the crime from her progressively more exposed flesh.

To the casual observer there was really no way for her to get out of this situation, as she was caught between him and the wall, but Maximos knew better. There was a soft click, like the sound a door makes when it shuts.

Reaching into her cleavage, the woman reached in and pulled out a black handled item with gold edges. The sound of a blade being drawn, any blade being drawn, was absolutely unmistakable. Like a lullaby heard ever day. The wire was cut, and the Izette was going for the messy kill. A kidney shot. She would feel the distinct pressure and release of flesh being punctured but the sound that followed was a hard smack, and the guard seemed utterly unfazed by her stab.

There was something different to Maximos' right arm. It could make a fist like any other arm, which was potent enough without the bones in his right arm being made of jet black steel. This made it so that when Maximos said...

"I can kill just fine. If I wanted a blood bath, I'd have come on my own." ...in his usual calculated tone, and smashed his fist into the unsuspecting guards temple, the feeling was less like being punched in the head and more like being bludgeoned by a fist sized steel bar. The guard went down. And he stayed down. The indigo sparks dancing on his knuckles were extra. In a dark alley outside of a club no one would find an unconscious person to be odd.

If she looked, Izette would find that Monica and Maximos had just been properly introduced. The knife had stabbed clean through his left palm and was sticking out the back of his hand, his fingers were enclosed around her hand like a vice grip. His eyes were harsh, cold, and efficient. The Reaper past the Shadow and beneath the Dark Prince.

Maximos reached forward, grabbing her same knife wrist with his left hand. The tug of bone and muscle running against steel passed through Monica's length as he pulled his hand free. If he was in pain it didnt show, not even as a twitch of his eyebrows and as he pulled his hand free. If anything, he looked annoyed as he said. "I stopped the door before it could close. Lets go."

The wound only bled for a moment, and then the blood ran black and stopped. Maximos wiped it away on the guard's shirt, revealing only a black like the size and shape of his stab wound but easily excusable as anything else.

He took a few steps forward toward the door, placed his hand on it, and then stopped. He turned around so as to look Izzy dead in the eyes and then slowly and purposefully look at Monica, and back and said. "If you ever do that again without my permission, I will cut your tongue out with that."

For some reason it was likely quite obvious he was not talking about stabbing him in the hand. Now whether the tone on his voice or the hint of a smirk just barely visible in the last moment before he turned away and opened the emergency exit was due to his character, seriousness, or an attempt at trying to appear cool, Maximos would not say. He also would not say if it was a threat, or an offer. But once they were inside, it didnt matter.

The emergency exit, like most high profile clubs was no where near where it could be seen from the bar. Clubs hate having visible exits because it reminds people they must eventually leave. Instead, most exits from the bar or dance floor look exactly like any other exit and lead to a series of halls doors that eventually wind up by the emergency exit. From where they were standing the club music was a dull indistinct roar flooded with the wash of human voices and sounds. This was a rear corner that smelled of cigarettes, booze, and whatever floral chemical was used to polish the floors. By the time the door shut behind them, any hostility that was even almost on Maximos' face was entirely gone.

He idly ran the fingers of his right hand against the wall closest to the music and seemed to be blissfully soaking something in for a few seconds. It looked like the face Izzy might recognize making when she took her first drag of a smoke after a long while. And then he shook his head, quickly withdrew his hand and snapped back to business. He produced the picture of the punkish woman from earlier.

"We dont have long before the guards realize he isnt communicating back and make things difficult. I imagine we'll need to vanish into the crowd by then...any....pla..." Maximos' words trailed off for moment as his right hand found its way back to the wall. His fingers spread across the cheap red and black wallpaper with flame print overlay, as if massaging a lover. Maximos eyes grew quickly unfocused and distant, and even seemed glossy until he suddenly and far too cheerily said, "...Nevermind! We'll figure something out, lets just get out there!"

And without a word the Shadow just walked off, made his way down the hall and turned a corner, dragging his fingers along the wall the whole way. By the time Izzy reached the corner, Maixmos was already gone without a trace.

A turn, another turn, and a final turn and the punker would find herself face to face with the screaming entrance to the dance floor/bar proper. It was stylized to look like a gigantic grinning demons mouth that just hungered for a person to step through.

The core of the club was huge, dimly lit, and absolutely teaming with people. The corners of the room were pitch black leaving only rotating lights, flashes, and a single moon shaped ball of glow in the very center to guide ones way. The floor held red lights that periodically pulsed like flames, in cages and small elevated platforms danced woman and men dressed and demons and angels ready to entice anyone into eternal damnation.

As Izzy entered, the room grew still and quiet. As fate would have it, the last song had ended and just as she passed through the demon's maw the slow, hypnotic beats of the next song began.

It was a fluid beat, melodic and enrapturing. The crowd did not thrash, they did not grind, they flowed. The people undulated and rolled against each other like a wave of skin, and cloth, and touches not meant for the public eye. They moved like one rthmyic unit entirely in time with the rolling melody. No movement drastic, no movement extreme, just a constant flow. As if anyone not involved was agonizingly forsaken and only those in the flow knew what life was. Izzy was like an outsider standing on the shore, and yet the arms and eyes of anyone within reach, called for her join the dance. The blissful wave. The sensual motion.

Maximos was no where in sight, and yet if she looked carefully enough she could see those very same green vials passed through the sweat glistening and absolutely mesmerized crowd. A sign over the bar declared in hellfire green the very words the entire crowd showed but never said. Welcome to the Inferno.

Questions, thats why Maximos was here.

Why arent they moving? Why arent they breathing? Why are they all together like that? Who are you? How did you? Cue the now so cliched scream. Questions were always such annoying things. Maximos much preferred to operate quiet place, in the back, in the corner. The people from the bar could watch, but once they came to bring the drinks he ordered they wouldnt be leaving again. With every step, from about the center of the dance floor forward, Maximos had begun undoing the bandage covering his right arm, leaving an accidental trail across the room which ended just outside the lounge. If Izette could manage the impossible and find a single ribbon, she would find a door undoubtably locked which held the Shadow.

The flesh squirming, touching, and moaning on the C shaped corner couch marked this as the place in the building people went to when they wanted to do things that shouldnt be seen. Maximos could never have been more at home. He didnt interact, not yet. A few stray fingers gestured in his direction, a few voices taunted him forward. But Maximos stood just a fingers width away from the action. His eyes were wide and hungry, his tongue slowly licked his lips. He was the portrait of a man who hadnt eaten in days standing before a banquet and savoring the fact the dream had come true.

How long had it been? How many days and nights since he had gone 'clean'. That was a laughable concept. His doses were controlled. His hunger restrained. But how could he deny himself the ineffable rush of emotion and sensation that struck him the very moment he entered the club? Simply put, he could not.

Maximos wanted them. But he did not want their sex or their flesh. He wanted their lives. Emotions, sensations, pure unfiltered essence of life fed through his right arm, filling him with a rush like no other. And here, where he could taste the drug induced pleasure from every individual before him, and every arm, shoulder, and other fleshy bit he ran his fingers along on his way in...he was lost. And then, as a hand touched his shoulder...he was found. He felt her, warm, loosened by a few drinks and seductive. She felt every bit like the passionate predator she appeared to be, and at her touch Maximos slowly began to turn. But then there was another touch, batting away the first. Colder, cooler, stronger.

Maximos turned before words could be shared between the two vying for his attention. Something was different about his face. All shadows and pallor. There was a darkness around his eyes that bordered on the sleepless. His tongue had spread something dark on his lips. And as the man showed fangs, Maximos grinned revealing not two fangs but a mouthful. As if every tooth had been sharped to flesh piercing precision. He met the other man's cold blue eyes with his own mismatched pair, his pupils as wide as could be making one eye appear deep and black while the other sported a large black opening and a ring of thin white before the white of his eyes. From the deep blue pools he traced greedy a path with his eyes down the boys body, to the edge of his pants and back up to his face.

He was beautiful. And fit. Being so fit were so very full of life. Delicious, delectable life. Noting where Maximos' attentions were swaying the woman scoffed and turned to leave. Smoothly, gracefully, and yet in a blur of black his right hand whipped out and grabbed her own. Delicately pulling it toward his chest.

"No." He said softly, invitingly. He tasted her immediately. Full of emotion, full of sensation, eager, excited. She turned back to face him with a coy smile on her face. The beautiful blonde boy began to turn away. Without missing a beat the Shadow's other hand reached out for his muscled shoulder, grabbing it and then sliding a hand down the curves of his arm to his hand, bringing it beside hers in front of himself.

"No, no." He said in the tone of a reassuring parent, or perhaps the tone the wolf took before eating Red Riding Hood. Pure vivacious life, or vivid and brilliant emotion. He had to choose. And then a grin spread unnaturally wide across Maximos' lips. "There's enough to share."

No. He didnt have to choose at all. He clasped both their hands together between his. Sampling both of them equally. That was two? Why stop? The voices which called him from the couch made whining jealous sounds, but Maximos only softly chuckled to himself. He stepped backwards toward the couch, squirming with hands and exposed skin. Hands reached out, hands pulled him back and down and brought his two guests with him. "There's enough for everyone to share..."

The staff paid to supply the drinks with room, and each tipped enough by the Shadow in question to leave the room when he entered the foray, made their quiet exists, locking the door behind them. The lights dimmed. What followed came in a drug ridden sensual flurry of motion and skin against pale green lights, soon came muffled moans drowned out by the music...then there was sweat, then there were screams, and then there was blood...

-|-

For Izette the Inferno presented another treat.

The Punker had made it halfway across the dance floor, just a few feet from its center when the song ended. There was silence. Numb bodies became still and almost unresponsive. Light faded low and then right under her feet the ground began to shake, split and tear. Orange, red, and green light poured from a zig zag fissure in the ground It was all an automatronic special effect, and within seconds security was bumping by her and forming a defensive line as crowd goers attempting to fling themselves haplessly into the pit.

The tear stretched, and opened, until it made a circle and amidst smoke and fog and rolls of steam, sounds filled the speakers. Not music, but sounds, mumbles, a reverberating rumble, clanks and creaks. And then through it all...a voice.

It was a woman's whispered voice. Just barely below a speaking voice. Then luscious and seductive voice, raspy and unclean as her lyrics. Drum's pounded out a dark beat as a platform slowly began to rise behind the guards and out of the reach of the clouds. A black stage bathed in smoke and fog and curlicue's. The woman spoke of blood, of gore, of darkness and pain. And the crowd rushed the shrouded stage nearly mad, as if she and she alone were their next fix. Izzy would find herself pinned between rock hard guards and crazed fans.

The stage rose until it was high as the guards, and then higher until it could be seen from any point in the club as the center of attention. The smoke faded, the fog ran thin...and there she was. She had a ragged used beauty to her. Nothing clean. Nothing fresh. Her hair hung over her eyes and face in long wet locks. She wore a wet dress shirt that was clearly a few sizes too short and clung to her skin like paper tracing the outline of the black bikini top beneath it. Her midrift was exposed all the way down to the hips of her black and red plaid school girl miniskirt, which gave way to pale legs that vanished into knee high curb stomping boots. Her bracelets softly jingled, chains and rings hung from her arms and fingers as they laced around the microphone in front of her as if it were some sensitive part of her lover's anatomy. Her lips gently pressed against it as she spoke, making it seem as if every word were a careful whisper in the listeners ear. And then, with a single soft statement the song came to an end.

The woman rocked her head back, grinding her hips shamelessly against the microphone stand as if it were a stripper poll and filling her wet hair out of her face. The crowd went wild. Roaring, cheering, shouting and screaming for her. She looked down at them, her eyes as bright green as the bottles passed around the room. Her teeth played against a piercing in her lip and her fingers toyed teasingly with the tip of the microphone. The music picked up, other beats joining the drums. Her gaze flitted over everyone in the room and then she smiled a perfectly innocent smile should it have been on anyone else's lips but hers, and began to sing.

She looked at everyone an no one. A singer alone wouldnt have been so special. But her face. She wasnt just anyone. It was her. It was the woman Izzy and Max came here for! Center stage and guarded by the meanest bastards in the house. It was mission time, and Max was no where to be found. It was all up to Izzy! That of course left one small question...

...how exactly would the punker react when the woman in the latex dress from before, slipped through the crowd already pushing against the punker and without a moments hesitation sunk the tip of a syringe into Ms. Prechtel's arm and squeezed into her veins its glowing green contents?

Mosh? This was a downright fight pit. Somewhere in the deepest and darkest levels of Hell where the wrathful and deadliest of killers were forced into eternal torment existed a party something like was Izette had just created.

It started off with the latex woman's head cracking backwards and causing her to headbutt the woman behind her and then she crumpled to the floor like a wet paper bag. The offended woman was stunned, her hand moved to the back of her head, her eyes squinted with momentary pain and then the pain rolled into a luscious sort of bliss. She didnt even turn around, she simply pulled her fist back and swung at the nearest person. That person followed suit, indulging in the moment and swung on the nearest person to him. And like that the violence spread like wildfire. Lost in the hate and rage and power of the song and drunk off the pain people were wailing on each other full score without even a concern for the repercussions. Body guards were beginning to close on Izette but when the club as a whole broke into violent life she was a drop in the bucket.

The muscled men would have been happy to pass her up entirely, if with her freed hand's Izzy didnt bean one dead in the eye. And, well, that hurt. The guard immediately turned to Izzy with roid rage all over his eyes, opened his bear arms wide and rushed in aiming to crush her in a killer hug.

--

"I'm not a monster, Tom." He said to the last man, the beautiful blonde boy from before. Maximos touched his fingers to the side of his neck where two little fangs had pierced his skin, his finger tips came back red and the Shadow slowly ran his tongue up the two digits until he licked the blood red vitae clean.

The blonde was on his knees, his head forced up in such a way that his chin was pinned and his mouth could not open. He was forced to look up at Maximos. Whatever semblance of a shirt he had previously had been torn off, and his muscles gleamed with sweat and rivulets of fresh blood which came ran down his lips and stained his mouth. The blood was darker than human blood, stained with some sort of pitch tint that made it inhuman. His eyes were dilated to an extreme, an icy blue rim of color around a pool of black, and while he could not open his mouth to speak hungry breaths came from flared nostrils.

Maximos looked over at the couch. On it were mostly woman, a few men, and none of them had any dignity remaining. Clothes had been partially removed, torn off, shredded or otherwise dispatched and the entire ensemble of flesh was completely still in a lifeless and yet living position. As if the all of them had been moving, loving, and bleeding with one another and then simple come to a blissful stop mid action. A satisfied sort of lopsided smile appeared on the Shadow's face twisting the mask of wet blood over his face and making him look like something all together terrible. He never let any spill down his chin though, properness and all that.

"Well, technically I am." The blue eyed blonde fought and squirmed, but it was hopeless. He had let himself be lost in the bloody frenzy and somewhere during it all his shadow of all things, the dark partner which trailed behind and under him his entire life stood up on its own, pinned his arms in one hand and jerked his head back under his chin with the other. It wasnt that the Shadow was stronger than him, it was that even when the grip broke it reformed, like trying to fight tar or quick sand.

Maximos took a lazy step forward, comfortable and slow like a jungle cat after a huge meal. Somewhere in the rush and pleasure of it all Maximos' shirt had been torn open, its buttons were missing and in the dim blacklight of the room his tattoo's seemed to glow eerily. In a gesture of innocence, Maximos brought up both his arms to either side with his elbows pressed to his hips. His left hand looked normal, with tattoos running down his arm and flicking out over his thumb and palm. The other arm looked terrible. Blackness itself had swelled off his fingertips and dripped down in inky lengths that then hardened into long butcher's knife-like extensions of each of his right fingers. The darkness ran in spirals across his hand from his bladed fingers and up where they seamlessly integrated with the tattoos on his right arm. In a completely harmless voice he said.

"All I want to do is eat your soul." And then, a foot or so from the other man he dropped to knees, meeting the perfectly chiseled blonde's eyes dead on. Amidst frenzy, and panic, there was fear. His blue eyes flicked side to side, his head turned and fought as if by not looking at Maximos he could prevent the inevitable. Maximos' all fanged grin stretched wide and shimmered with blood in the partial lights. His hands rose and cupped either side of the pretty boys face. Maximos pulled in him in, as he slid his face forward and the two were less than inch part. So close they could have kissed, and from there the Shadow took a deep lungful of air in through his nose, lavishing the smell of it. Fear. A drug like no other. His hands seemed gentle, save for the bladed fingers of one that drew very thin red lines across the other man's perfect face by simply resting against it. His sharp right hand slipped away, two fingers touching the other man's chin while his a secure grip he kept the other man's face from moving and met his eyes dead on.

And then that hand fell, running five long furrows straight down the pale perfect chest through the strains and spills of blood and stopping right above his belt line. The blonde's breath caught and hiked growing heavier with each inch Maximos' hand fell. A belt that had been tugged down at far as his hips would allow without his pants falling off. That was, of course, where the blood stopped. Maximos turned his hand so that it side pressed against the skin and then ran his fingers straight back up the man's chest scooping up the dribbled blood. A long pale tongue slipped from Maximos' lips and lapped away the excess, lavishing the rusty copper flavor. Waste not, want not. The other man was practically shivering be it with thirst or something else.

It was a simple matter really. Two predators cannot share the same hunt. Thats not the way the game works. In the end, even if they share the kill one has to win. A place in the food chain must be asserted. That was just the way of things. Maximos smeared his thumb hand across the blond boys lips in a long red line putting the blood so close that he could smell it and long for it, but so far that the Shadow's grip kept him from ever actually tasting it.

"I'm not unreasonable." His left hand pushing the blonde's face up while his right pressed to the center of the man's chest. Five long knive-fingers dug just barely into the pretty vampire's skin, as the better monster won. "I mean, no one's going to eat your eyes."

Ahh. Now the heart was pumping, now the blood was boiling. Now with necromantic green light pulsing through her veins would Izzy begin to feel it. There was nothing quite like Soul.

It began as a feeling very much like adrenaline, it charged the muscles and made the heart race with live. Everything in the body seemed to be putting out at twice capacity. This was for good reason. The body was being told that it was currently working hard enough to operate two bodies. Or rather, it was being told that it was currently home to two souls. And should Izzy have received a full injection, it would be.

During the fight her body was running on instinct, quicker and stronger than it might normally be. But as she broke through to where Max was, and began to slow Soul's less than beneficial effects came into play. A second soul comes with its own memories, feelings, and desires. It very much attempts to take over the body for itself, but the experience if living two lives at one time and having all your senses twice as sharp was....exhilarating.

Izzy had only received a minor dose. The punker would be hearing a whisper in the back of her mind, and strong mental urges to do, say, or feel things that made absolutely no sense in the context of what she was doing. There was no telling where the injected piece of Soul came from, a house fly, a dog, a cat, no one could know. It would be enough that she could notice it, likely feel it, but not enough to be an actual threat. Well, beyond the rush of how amazing little scents like blood felt. Or how exactly detailed her vision was, the entire club viewed through HD. This was probably awesome, and increasingly painful.

“Good to see that you are hard at work...” Maximos was getting a sort of freak on. Or off as the case may be. The vampire was indeed pressed against him. Having just seconds ago lost enough life to keep his own back straight, he fell and Maximos caught him. He reached a hand out to Izzy as she passed but hadnt the strength to actually speak. The blonde's eyes shut, his body fell limp against the pressure of Maximos' hand against his chest. And then he fell over with a thud and a second later was engulfed in a burst of flame and turned to ash. Maximos unceremoniously stood up and smacked his hands together. "Good to see you've made a fine mess of things ********.” Maximos eyes sharpened on her. He sniffed the air twice, and then waved his right hand across the space between them. There was a quirk of a smile on his face and he moved to say something...but it was completely lost in the buzz. The roar. The rumble of sound and screaming in her skull. Whatever she was thinking multiplied by another set of thoughts pounding away in her brain completely out of her control. In the same way instinct directs a hand to escape a fire with consultation with the brain, her limbs were attempting to move, walk, or function. Likely Izzy was anything but scared at the moment, and yet something deep inside her screamed that it was it was terrified with a foreign sort of feeling and panicked and rushed causing her body to begin involuntarily expressing all the signs of a real life panic attack.

"Izette, you didnt." Maximos reached his hand out and a vial dropped to the floor, rolled along a black path of shadow and then spilled upwards into his hand. A vial with only drops of green inside of it where moments ago it had been completely full. "This is an otherworldly drug, it doesnt follow our rules. You took a hit and showed the Soul where to go, it just needs to be near you to drain away."

He flung the bottle away with an angry flick of his wrist. Izzy right now was likely having all of the effects of attempting to live two lives, in one body. Gasping as it attempted to breath twice for every one breath she actually need. Her heart pumped twice as fast, racing speeds, for a body that no where to go. It was unlikely she heard one word Maximos said. And yet none the less the Shadow approached and said, "Izzy? Can you hear? IZZY! Say something!"

Izzette was a human being and human bodies were simply not made to hold this much soul. She was sweating fountains, her skin pale and sheening in the dull light. She gasped the breaths of drowning woman. Maximos was across the room in a few quick steps, he reached out to grab her and...

...the world went black. A leather jacket that smelled distinctly of cigarette smoke and perfume landed directly on his face. With a jerk of his head and frustrated grunt he pulled the jacket off and tossed it to the floor. Izzy was going for her arm like it held the secret to life. Her nails drew pink furrows first, then white lengths of flaky skin. Maximos watched a tattoo written in a language he did not understand undergo a vicious assault. He reached for her, and then stopped...Izzy was so on right now. She was ripe with life. From a spiritual point of view it was leaking out of her skin and seeping from her eyes. So much life it might kill her, and yet it hadnt and now fused with the potent drug that was Soul came the scent of fresh blood, dripping from ragged lines gouged in the soft white skin of her own arm, dripping around and down in tantalizing lines like so much strawberry syrup oozing off of a cake.

Maximos spoke, licking his lips. Was she talking to hm? Probably not, but it didnt matter anymore. A voice in the back of Maximos mind said that this was not the time for indulgence and addiction. Another part said a...little taste couldnt hurt. Izzy drew a knife...that was more than he could have stand.

Maximos leaped forward like a predator for prey. His left hand grabbed her injured arm, while his right arm dripping globs of black from its tattooed spell circle crashed into the center of her chest. There was no shame, as the vampire before the heart was just the best most easily accessed spot to draw from. Maximos right hand, still blood and black stained was wetly smack right between her intentionally accentuated cleavage. Unless the frenzied Izzy managed a defense against the frenzied Shadow he would shove her back to the floor and hold her there. And feed. One taste. Then another...then another...such a warm sensual feeling that made his blood race in his veins like fire and forced a gasp from his mouth.

In the seconds that followed Maximos likely saved Izette's life, but let there be no misconception that if not interrupted he likely would have ended it too. Maximos' mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, a thousand feelings, though as opposed to the trauma it caused Izzy the entire sensation swirled together into one rush of ecstasy. It was more than any one human soul could offer, but Izzette had more than one soul in her right now. Maximos touch was a cold thing, spreading sobering ice through the veins. It did not dull the voice or the sensation of it all but it would have made her heart slow, her muscles weak, and eventually forced her body to fall asleep. His eyes grew distant and hungry. He watched through jet black eyes as delicious neon green lines trace across the floor to and from her position. He didnt remember those being there. They were fancy lights that ran into Izzy, and through her...and up his arm...and...

And suddenly his eyes snapped open wide with an ice cold realization. Soul, the drug, glowed a sickly green. The floor and detail lights in this club were also...a sickly flaming green. There were no lights in this club. Just walls, floors, and hallways filled with Soul. And anyone who partook of the needle, was fed...for as long as they were in these walls. Until they...

Maximos didnt know what it was, but it was heavy and it moved very fast from behind him and struck his so hard his vision went black and the last thing he remembered was his hand slipping and crashing face first into the crevice between Izettes breasts and going black.

--

Izzy would wake up to the feeling of being flopped onto a wooden chair. Her hands were bound behind her back. Her feet were tied together. Her face was covered in black cloth, and something dry covered her right arm. A towel or such.

Her entire body would feel as it might after a week of binge drinking. As if every action, every thought, every everything was an ache and a sore to perform. But she was awake. And a small distance from her a woman was laughing.

“What a lovely smell that perfume is...it’s like a combination of a** and piss all in one.”

Or maybe it was a perfect idea. The woman laughed even louder, her voice was harsh leathery and yet melodic. Izzy would be able to hear cloth and furniture move in the room and then as the chuckles died the woman spoke. "Well arent you just a ********' charmer."

The voice was close, no longer across the room but perhaps a foot or two away. It might even be familiar, if the Punker could remember anything of her first half hour in the Inferno. A fist grabbed at the back of her head, seizing up a hand full of her black hair through the dark cloth covering it and then viciously yanked her head back. Breath would likely be the first thing she felt, smokey warmth and racing through fabric against her air. The voice came out like a taunted whisper, all soft and needy. "I heard you were lookin' for me..."

That voice belonged to the club singer, the woman they had come here for. Then came body heat. The warmth of another person just inches from Izzette, fully palpable through the thin layers the Punker had chosen to wear. Someone was leaning as close to her as possible. Someone was touching her, running a soft hand against her exposed neck and then down her neckline. "You found me, what do you wanna do?"

A slender hand slipped down Izzy's ample cleavage the woman pressed closer her wet supple skin smooshed against Izzy. And then pulled out one of Izette's girls, no not the fleshy kind...Monica was her name. Metal softly clicked and rasped, Izzy would likely know the sound of her own baby being opened. And the cold of a sharp steel edge pressing into the soft meat under her chin, dimpling her skin. "I have an idea..."

She giggled like an innocent little school girl. Then there was weight. Someone else exposed legs on her leather dress, straddling first and then turning to sit neatly in her lap. There was a whistle, a rumple, and suddenly a rush of cool air as Monica raced a razor sharp like up Izette's face without leaving even a scratch and cut the cloth covering her face free.

The dirty singer from the club floor sat precariously in Izzy's lap, her full curves all too close, and yet too far. Her bright green eyes smoldered down at the Punker as she laced an arm around the woman's neck for support. Izzy was still bound, but she could see! The woman was absolutely filthy, her clothes stained and wrinkled her face covered in streaks and soot and blood, and yet shining with sweat as innocently as any poison angel. The dirt adorned her like an aura. Monica's tip was placed precariously just under the lip of Izzy's eye patch. "I've always had this fantasy...where I got some one on one with one of you Reaper types...I wanna make you scream."

She made a soft moaning sound and then giggled giddly and began lifting the eye patch. "...hehehe, you dont need this eye right?"

Izzy was a tricky b***h!

Weight was tumbling, the woman was flailing for something to hold on to but found nothing. And with a crash both females were sprawled out across a stained red carpet.

The singer immediately tried to stand and found Izzy's teeth sinking into her ear rather painfully. All attempts to stand stopped. Izzy would be able to feel the small pop of flesh giving when the woman pulled or moved against her bite. She would also likely be able to hear the woman scream in a blood curdling shriek. "LET GO OF MY ******** EAR! THAT PIERCING COST MORE THAN YOU, YOU t**t!"

Being that the blonde was on top of Izzy's lap and they fell backwards. She found herself still on top, her arms were around the area of Izette's midsection. And as the Punker was not likely to let go, the dirty blonde made use of her situation.

"Fine! Keep the ear! I'm taking your ******** liver!" She growled a frustrated sound and then, unless Izette had something else in mind, the singer was about to jam Monica into Izzy's gut. And keep jamming and stabbing until well....it wouldnt have been pretty, and it wouldnt end well for the brave punker.