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 Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2012 11:25 pm
Jean-Pierre woke up in a foul mood. He had hardly slept that morning, plagued as he was by the thought of taking on a human as a personal servant. It was to be his first. He had never really cared for the humans. To him they were all wretched creatures. The sound of their beating hearts were an annoyance.
The moon was just rising as he trudged down the stairs to the library where his tutors waited. It was time to continue his studies. He sat down at a long polished table and pulled the nearest book toward him and began reading the elaborate scrawlings of the ancient vampiric monks. His father interrupted an hour later. He brought with him a human girl. She smelled of fear.
"Jamie Katherine Knight, seventeen years old," he announced unceremoniously. "Seems to be in perfect health in every way, blood is clean, and she's yours." He gave her a bit of a shove and she stumbled forward. "Just... stand there. Don't move," Jean-Pierre told her. He returned to his book and his father exited the room, closing the doors behind him. The girl looked exhausted and wavered slightly in place. "Stop that," he commanded quietly with his eyes still upon the book; she was dozing and teetered even more. He slammed his fist on the table. She jumped. "Stop that!"
He threw an angry glare her way. She shook slightly. He could tell she was quite beautiful for a human; she had no doubt been picked for this quality. She was also very new. She seemed to still be diurnal (awake during the day, sleeping during the night). This frustrated him greatly. "You're going to have to change your sleeping patterns, girl," he told her, returning to his book. He could feel her eyes on the book. He tugged it away slightly so that he was blocking it's view. "Humans are forbidden to read our books or study. Humans must learn only human texts and subjects," he told her in bored tones. She had begun staring at him. He ignored this. He propped his head upon his hand and continued his studies.
It was two hours later before he shut his book and stood. "You, girl. Follow me." He led her out of the room and onto the grounds. He made his way down the cobbled lane and out into the city. He turned back to her and tied some silver thread around her wrist. He tied a similar loop around his own. "If you are more than thirty yards away, this thread will contract and slice off your hand. The scent will attract every vampire in this city. If they don't tear you to shreds, you may well bleed out - and if you're lucky, you'll bleed out before I get to you. I suggest you keep up." With that warning, he led the way to the town square.
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Posted: Fri Feb 24, 2012 5:10 am
 ♣ Jamie Katherine Knight ♣
Her head throbbed as she shot up straight, unaware of where she was. It was dark and the place had a stench about it. It reminded her of the slums back home before that good-for-nothing orphanage imprisoned her. Maybe that's a bit harsh, she corrected herself. Examining the area, she failed to grasp a hint of reality. Perhaps she hadn't had enough time to ponder over things. A sharp, cool sensation tapped her shoulder blade. Jamie felt it burn and then experienced the relief as blood fed the small wound.
"You little p***k," she scolded and slammed her hand into the man's cheek. He didn't budge. It's as if the hit didn't effect him at all.
"You've got some nerve, boy," she challenged as if she had a chance against a full grown man with a dagger in his hand. He said nothing. He just stood there, smiling like an idiot. Then his movements started to blur. Before Jamie could recall what happened, he had her trapped in his arms with his one hand forcing something into her mouth. She couldn't resist - his strength was too great. The moment it entered her mouth it exploded into liquid and spilled over her tongue. She wanted to spit it out, it had a foul taste to it, but he held her mouth shut tight and she had to swallow before bringing up whatever was in her empty stomach. Her eyelids fell, instantly heavy as the drug took its toll.
Awaking in a well furnished mansion or palace of some kind, Jamie choked into realization. The drug still had control over her and she was mindlessly following an elderly gentlemen complete in a tuxedo and a hat.
"Where are you taking me?" Jamie asked, her voice wavering slightly - which surprised her. He didn't reply.
"Jamie Katherine Knight, seventeen years old," he droned. Then he said something about health that Jamie couldn't really hear.
She was left in the room with a young boy, probably about her age. He had flawless skin and soft golden hair. She never saw anyone like him. This odd perfection had somewhat of a dark charm to it that made her the culprit of perhaps staring too long. He was reading a book, occasionally yelling to her to stop it. What he meant she didn't know. Her main concern was that she was weak and unable to stop shivering like a sick little rabbit. It annoyed her as much as it annoyed him, but she couldn't help it.
When he mentioned her sleeping patterns she wanted to tell him she had insomnia for the most part, but for some reason her lips wouldn't move.
To distract herself, she glanced curiously at the book he was reading. It had an ornamental font and seemed quite old - something that enticed her feverish quest for knowledge.
"Humans are forbidden to read our books or study. Humans must learn only human texts and subjects."
"That's awfully racist," Jamie intended for it to be a joke, but her lips were still slightly paralyzed and she doubt he even heard her.
He stood, finalizing some kind of bond or contract, and ordered her to tag along. Her feet followed him. It was an odd sensation, some kind of obedience that was subconsciously imprinted in the back of her mind. It puzzled her, and she knew well it would irritate her later, but she didn't fight it - for now. She was eager to see where she was and explore, and what better way than being allowed to do so.
The young man, having won a rank in her book of respect, led her out and tied a fancy silver string around her wrist. It was a charming little thread that brought an amused smile to her eyes when he mentioned abruptly what it can do.
As they walked on, Jamie's eyes absorbed every detail of her surroundings. She felt her face defrost and uttered a soft "Impressive".
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 2:04 am
Jean-Pierre strode through the square quickly and marched into a massive black marble building. He ran a hand through his hair nervously and tugged at his clothing, making sure his appearance was immaculate. He looked up at the large clock in the center of the hall and noticed he was early. A group of young men waved him over. He made sure his new servant was still in tow and waltzed over to them.
"Interesting human you have," said a black haired youth, "Is she yours?" Jean-Pierre scoffed. "Of course she is. Whose else would she be?" He ran a hand through his hair again smoothly and leaned upon a marble column. "Very pretty," said a brown haired man with a grin. He circled Jamie. "Very pretty. How much do you want for her," he asked, pulling delicately at a strand of her white hair. Jean-Pierre swatted his hand away. "Not for sale, Webber. Go chew on your own." The man Webber seemed greatly annoyed and promptly stalked off around a corner and out of sight. The black haired man flashed him a very white smile. "Have fun at the opening ceremony today, dear prince." He chuckled and followed after Webber.
Jean-Pierre wandered over to a large fountain and sat on it's edge. Jamie sat a few feet away. He sat in silence for a while and then turned to her. "Hey! Get over here," he told her, pointing in front of him. She rose and stood before him. "You are a reflection on me. Today, I am opening the Carnival of the Dead. I'm going to kill and consume a human in front of you and all of Ravenheart. You will not flinch, you will not vomit, you will not look away or display any other signs of weakness. If you do, I'll throw you from the balchony and into the crowd of vampires. That's more than a thirty yard drop. You will lose your hand and they will feed. Am I understood?" She gave a slow nod. He glanced up at the clock. It was nearly time. Without another word, he led her up a series of marble stair cases until he finally reached the very top of the building. They emerged on a large balchony overlooking Ravenheart. A crowd waited below.
Jean-Pierre turned to Jamie. "You will stand here. Don't move." He made his way to the very front - and center - of the balchony, Jamie a few feet behind among a neat little row of other servants. One girl her age, dressed in a light lavender, was talking excitedly to another girl. She could overhear what she was saying above the cheers of the crowd. "...and I can't believe they picked me! It's the third year I've volunteered. And lucky too! This year the prince opens. He's so handsome, don't you think? I can't wait! He's always so passionate about it. All the others don't have his flair. They just drink with the poor girl standing there stiff as a board and throw the body to the floor. I think I would've cried if the King was opening." The girl she was talking to pouted. "I overheard the dutchess saying that the King was opening next year and considering Abigail instead of me!" The first girl patted her arm sympathetically. "It's okay. You'll get your turn."
The King called the crowd to order and made his long speech. Jean-Pierre stood still, looking very regal bathed in the glow of the moon. Finally, the girl in lavender was summoned forward. She bounced to the front excitedly. Silence hung thick in the air. Finally, Jean-Pierre seized her waist and dipped her back, exposing her neck. He bit deep; crimson blood spilled down the girl's neck as she gave a cry. Cheers errupted and continued as Jean-Pierre worked. He drank deeply and passionately, almost as if he was kissing a lover's neck. Some of the servant girls blushed and looked away. Once he had finished, he lifted one hand from her waist and bit his own wrist hard. He held it over her head, letting the blood drip slowly into her mouth. She coughed and gasped. Eventually, he relaxed his arm at his side. He swept her up into his arms tenderly and carried her into the building. The cheers continued and the King declared the Carnival to be open. Once inside with Jamie close behind, he placed the girl on a padded bench by which two men in black uniforms stood.
"Take her to the waiting room," he told them. They nodded. He turned to Jamie, a fire blazing in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was as steady and impassive as ever. "Do you require food, human girl?" Silence. He tried again, speaking slowly, "Are... you... hungry... human?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2012 5:12 am
♣ Jamie Katherine Knight ♣
Jamie stood as far from the balcony’s edge as it allowed her while still gaining a clear view of what was going to happen next. Chatter drifted in her direction.
“He’s always so passionate about it. All the others don’t have his flair…”
The owners of the high voices were jittery with excitement and envy. It would have made her sick if she knew and cared about them. Instead, she placed her hands on the rail and allowed her eyes to adjust on the prince. The girl in lavender walked to the centre of the balcony. She betrayed no hint of fear or anxiety. He neared her, sweeping across the floor as if floating smoothly just above the ground with his coat trailing behind him. He gently held her around her waist and tipped her back ever so slightly to expose her flawless neck. Then he kissed her. Blood was dripping daintily from her neck and her body fell limp in his sturdy grip. He held her up against him and, once he finished, he bit his own wrist and fed his blood to the girl, saving her life. Jamie now understood the jealousy and longing in the voices earlier – he treated his food better than his pets. She didn’t flinch. She wasn’t sure why he had requested it of her when he was planning on doing it so affectionately and gracefully. Perhaps for that sole reason she would have cringed. She found herself trapped in an emotion she had forgotten existed. As a result she was looking down at her wrist where the thin silver thread glinted in the moonlight. Food had some use to him, at least.
“Come,” Jean-Pierre ordered scornfully and Jamie tripled on after him. Was she losing her mind? Was she finally giving way to years and years of suppression? She shook her head and developed a steady, proud pace even though she didn’t feel up to the part. He spun around, forcing Jamie to come to an abrupt halt before crashing into him. His eyes were feverish with passion and should have scared her.
“Do you require food, human girl?”
His voice was serene and cold. His food seemed to be no value to him either, yet his eyes betrayed some kind of emotion that she failed to identify.
“Are… you… hungry… human?”
Jamie nodded, returning to reality.
“Starving.”
Jamie tugged on her black tank top and dusted her jeans. For the first time since she arrived in this odd world she noticed she was ridiculously underdressed, especially compared to the girl in the lavender. That brought back a curious thought to her mind.
“Why did you save her?”
He glanced at her questioningly.
“The girl, your victim… Why did you save her?” She repeated.
The rest of the trip proceeded in utter silence, but it wasn’t a rude silence. Finally they reached an enormous building and entered at the side. The heavy doors opened to a common room where a few ornate bookcases towered above them, climbing like ivy towards the high ceiling. The décor was elaborate – the curtains, the carpets, the furniture, the ornaments… What caught her eye, however, was the grand piano in the centre – black as night, it stood alone and accentuated.
Jamie’s thin, pale fingertips caressed its smooth, impeccable surface as she circled it, mesmerized. The rest of the room seemed to fade away into darkness as she completed the loop and returned to the piano’s front. The stool had a definite print in the cushion, but it was cold as ice when she perched herself on top of it. She gently flipped open the lid and touched the keys lightly, as if they would break or disappear under her fingers. She could hear them calling out to her, begging for her touch. She pressed one down until it produced a soft low whisper. Then, her hands found their places and started to dance slowly from note to note, recalling the piece from a distant memory that could never be erased. Jamie started to play a heartfelt version of The Dead Girl Epilogue.
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2012 10:13 am
Jean-Pierre listened to her play the piano with a slight annoyance. Humans could only play within their realms of possibility and didn't have the finesse, grace, or capeabilities that vampires did. He waited for her to finish and took the seat behind her. He began playing a complicated piece of death and the joy therein. His hands flew across the keys, painting a morbid and beautiful picture. A rich and ethreal sound filled the air and drew a few vampires in to occupy a few chairs and couches around the room. The last few high, melancholy notes resounded around the room and he snapped the lid shut. "Up," he told her. He led her to a cold and polished table. Immediately, human servants silently entered the room and laid a feast out before them. They left as quickly as they came. Jamie began eating. Her heartbeat was irritating him again.
"Your place is never to question me in public, understood? From this point on you are to address me as 'master' or 'sir'." He let this sink in and began again in softer tones. "You wanted to know why I saved the girl? She was a good slave and amused me for a time. She had served her purpose and served it well. It seemed a waste to dispose of someone so resourceful and obedient. When she wakes in a week's time, she will be bound to me as you are. The only difference is she has been relieved of the burden of slavery and is now to be my companion. It was father's idea, really," he added in thought, almost to himself, "He thought I might do with a friendly creature at my side to make use of my time. Knowing her, she'll aspire to be my mate... the last thing I need is another hopeful woman trailing after me," he said, clearly irritated.
And indeed, there were numerous females around the room, peering at him over tops of books, glancing at him from the corners of their eyes, and others - not so subtle - boring their eyes into the back of his head, confidence practically dripping from them. He plucked at his bloodstained garb. "A bunch of ravenous animals they seem to me. Traveling in packs and always trying to get the upper hand over one another. I'm sure if I told one of them to poison themselves, they would. Frightfully vicious creatures, women..." He trailed off into thought and was silent. He leaned into the chair sideways, a leg dangling over one of the arms. He seemed to be deep in thought.
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2012 11:41 am
♣ Jamie Katherine Knight ♣
Jamie didn't mind calling him "master", "sir", or even "my lord". She just wanted him to at least like her since she's going to be stuck with him for a while.
She smiled, avoiding his glare, at the thought that he coldly cared about someone and couldn't help but utter a voiceless giggle when he compared women to beasts.
They are indeed, she wanted to tell him about her past and that she never had many girl friends. Perhaps she just needed someone to talk to. Lenore, and old friend from the orphanage, once listened to her heart's content. Jamie frowned at the meat in her plate and tossed it over. How could she be such a fool? How could she ever have gotten into the habit of trusting people, even if it's just one simple girl? She never should have trusted herself with friendly people in the first place. She has become soft and squishy inside, and it annoyed her. Maybe she wasn't so great as she believed herself to be. The Death Waltz echoed in her head as she ate her food. She didn't intend to play the Epilogue of I Am Ghost - one of her favourite Earthen bands - to show off any skill, but she didn't have the courage to tell her master that.
The meal was as scrumptious as it was balanced and nutritious. For as long as she could remember, she had an attraction to the finer things in life whether it was food, attire or architecture. It was a meal she would always remember, not only because it's the first in another realm, but because it was the first meal in days and it was a good one. She couldn't finish, though, and set her cutlery aside. After wiping her lips daintily with a napkin, she stared, puzzled, at Jean-Pierre who was still staring into the distance, lost in thought. Was he still brooding over the whole women-adores-him thing?
Jamie smiled. Even though he seemed agitated and inapproachable, he had the type of aura that soothed her nerves.
Glancing down, Jamie fiddled with her bracelet. She decided to soften reality a bit by believing he gave her a bracelet instead of a bloodthirsty thread. She stared longingly at it, trying to forget the threat he posed earlier.
I'm still new here, she reminded herself. It was going to take some time to get used to him, as well as for him to get used to her. Nevertheless, she missed home - a place where she could be her forever-changing self. She longed for the days she acted sophisticated while fighting off ***** before they could reach her friends. She was responsible for them then and they looked up to her as a hero. She missed that.
Shaking her head to clear it, she stared at her master without really seeing him.
The waitress came - a human girl who seemed to be ridiculously attracted to Jean-Pierre. She had a huskiness about her voice that Jamie recognized and hated. She stood up, instantly, forgetting where the girl was positioned and knocked her over. Jamie didn't bother to help her up or apologize. She was human and, although chubbier, weak compared to the recently fed Jamie. She glared down at the girl without saying a word.
"What do you think you're doing?" the girl shrieked in embarrassment. She got up clumsily, easily out of breath. Storming closer to Jamie, she peered straight into her eyes, standing so close that Jamie could hear her pathetic heartbeat. Jamie held her there with a fixed glare until the girl glanced down and returned to her duties. She knew well that Jamie knew what she was fantasizing about. Sinking back into her chair, she examined the vampires nearby that stared at her. Some of them looked away, disinterested, but there were still some females drooling over Jean-Pierre like he was some sort of candy. At least they didn't start throwing tantrums like little brats, she thought by herself and attempted to shrug her building temper off her shoulders.
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 3:10 am
He smirked, amused, as the waitress came crashing to the floor. She finished her chore quickly, frequently throwing intimate looks to Jean-Pierre, who became increasingly impatient. As she turned to leave for the kitchens, he grabbed her wrist. His grip tightened and he felt it snap. "You would do well to be more careful next time," he told her in bored tones. "But, your highness... it wasn't me. She-"
"You dare blame my slave for your stupidity," he asked, his voice still steady and quiet. For some reason, this made him more intimidating that if he was yelling. Tears trailed down her face as he crushed the bones in her wrist. "When you accuse my slave, you are insulting me." He snapped his fingers. Two more black uniformed figures melted into the room from the shadows. "Dispose of this thing. I can't stand to look at it anymore." They dragged the sobbing girl out through a side door. He stood and looked at Jamie. "You. Follow me."
Jean-Pierre quickly led the way out of the building and back through the cobbled square. He dashed down long lanes and narrow, twisting side streets. Eventually, the ground gave way to dirt roads with shoots of grass and a flagstone here and there. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jamie was still following and that no one else was.
After almost half an hour, they had left the city far behind and had reached sprawling farmlands. Humans could be seen through the windows eating dinner and reading. A group of children were playing out in the fields. Their parents - standing not far off - saw the two of them approaching and ushered the children inside as quickly as they could, locking the door firmly behind them. He ignored this and continued toward a vast and lush forest. Jean-Pierre chose a large oak tree and sat upon the roots.
"When we are out here and do not have guests, you may call me Pierre. However, you are never to forget your role and are only to treat me with the respect deserving of a master." He withdrew a bottle of blood from within his robes and drained the rest of it before continuing. "While I sleep, you will restrict your daytime wanderings to your room and bathroom, the kitchen, the human library in the square, and the human district. There are signs for that. I do not have the time or patience to show you. You may also wander the grounds but are forbidden to enter the chapel beyond the orchard. You will return one hour before sunset each day to the stairs in the entrance hall. I will join you at sunset. If you are not where I have instructed you to be, you will have the dogs sent to bring you back and you will be punished harshly. The third time you fail to do as I say, you will be killed. Slowly."
He stood and handed her the bottle. "Stay close and keep your mouth shut." They carefully pushed deeper into the woods. Finally, they reached a clearing with a fawn and a very large stag. He pushed her up against a tree and mouthed stay here.
He circled the clearing silently and in a flash he was upon the fawn. Jean-Pierre quickly snapped its neck as the stag ran for cover. He beckoned Jamie to his side and grabbed the bottle from her, draining the fawn into it as he spoke. "Do you know why I chose the fawn," without waiting for an answer, he continued. "It's more than just the fact that it was there. I could have taken the stag. However, a fawn has almost no chance of survival without its parent. Therefore, it cannot continue the population. The stag can." He pulled a pouch of cubed salt from his inside pocket and dropped two cubes into the full bottle. "Do you know why I did that?" He saw her shake her head. "Salt keeps the blood from coagulating - or solidifying - too soon. In other words, it keeps it in its liquid state longer." He stood. "There will come a time when I will entrust to you the task of hunting for me while I sleep. We will practice daily until I am sure you are ready."
Wolves began to creep forward. "All yours," he told them. They lept on the carcass. Jean-Pierre led the way back to the estate. By the time they entered the gates, the birds were already waking up. He yawned and traipsed up the stairs in the entrance hall. "Your room is on the second floor. You have a private bathroom attatched. Remember your boundaries." He climbed the stairs to the third floor and looked out the window at the sunrise longingly before retreating down the hall and out of sight.
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2012 6:50 am
♣ Jamie Katherine Knight ♣
Jamie felt somewhat sorry for the girl. After her master had gone off to his quarters, she ventured around her room. She hadn't entered it yet, but stretched out her curiosity until she became vaguely familiar with her surroundings. She was careful not to wander too far, because she had as much a sense of direction as a Husky.
He broke wrist just like that. It snapped so easily, and it sent her to tears immediately. Jamie shook the guilt from her shoulders. She had it coming for her, but something else; something way more important surfed the corners of her mind. Pierre didn't turn on her. He didn't hit her or drag her out of the restaurant to beat her to a pulp. He picked her side, despite of her misbehavior. It confused her, but it made her smile. He cared about her after all, even if she was but mere an object to him - he wouldn't turn on her or punish her as long as she does things for him. Things like defending his name. Jamie began to feel increasingly comfortable with her master, but it bothered her. He still wasn't human and therefore lack the sense of humanity. She had to remind herself constantly that he had the power to break every bone in her frail body in the blink of an eye lest she be careful. The thought didn't make her cringe. She did not have a particular desire to die, but she didn't care much about her life either. All that kept her from making stupid mistakes was her curiosity.
Someday I will get my hands on those Vampiric scripts, she promised herself with a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
The room was spacious, to her surprise, and she found it rather comforting. This was going to be her abode. She would ask Pierre for materials to make it evident that a Jamie Katherine lived there. She planned on painting and perhaps, somehow, get her hands on a violin.
She used to have a violin back at the orphanage - something she practiced more often than the piano - but she doubt she's find anything here with her current status.
"What if I joined them? She asked herself in a whisper, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. It was tall and gave her a full and detailed view of her appearance.
She wasn't particularly attractive, at least not what she was aware of. She wore no make-up and her skin was dry and sickly pale.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a dresser. It was of adorned black wood and seemed to draw her nearer with the same charm of the piano earlier. Twisting the key, the doors opened without a creak. Inside were two dresses, a black bolero to mach, and velvet boots. Jamie examined the pieces, but refrained from trying them on.
What was the chances that they are my size, anyway.
Behind a screen wall perched a porcelain bath on black iron paws, curling to the sky in vine-like gestures. After opening the taps and allowing the room to steam, she searched the cabinet. She could only find mild milky cleansers and shampoo that smelled like apricots, but she was grateful for it and sank her stuffy self into the lukewarm water.
That day she passed out on her bed and slept like a babe with the smell of apricots and vanilla cream wafting though her broken-insomniac mind.
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Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2012 8:21 pm
Jean-Pierre lay in his bed, his thick, heavy black velvet curtains blocking the light. "Raphael, you were never subtle. Just come out and face me like a man." A dark, slender figure slid from the wall where he had been perfectly hidden for nearly the entire night until the sunrise brought his prey to him. He drew his dagger smoothly, slightly shaking from fatigue. "Your time has come, prince." Three more men melted into the room from obscurity. Jean-Pierre dared not move. "I see I am outnumbered."
"That you are, youngling." They stared each other down, motionless. In a sudden flurry of undistinguishable movements, both men were on their feet across the room. Raphael lunged; Pierre dropped to the ground. A man darted over and aimed a hard kick at his ribs before he had a chance to roll away. Pierre siezed his foot and twisted his left off in one action. The man fell to the ground. One of his comrades decapitated him - part mercy killing, part insurance. He was on his feet again, the attackers advancing quickly. "Give it up, Pierre. You should take what's coming." Until then, they had been near silent; Pierre's primal instincts kicked in. He gave a deep, gutteral cry of fury and threw the nearest man out the door. It splintered as the hapless victim crashed to the ground floor, his limbs askew, head caved in. Only Raphael and another remained. The servants were clammoring downstairs now, the other vampires fighting their way to the front of the crowds to observe the fresh corpse. The nameless man stalked forward, knife at the ready. "He's mine," Raphael commanded. The man nodded, stood over the hallway railing, and threw himself to his death. "And so it begins."
His dagger flashed like lightning in the light of the flickering candles. Jean-Pierre danced to the side, his movements a blur. He needed to buy some time until he could find a weapon. Raphael slashed at his torso; he twisted to the side as the dagger tore through the curtain, sunlight streaming through. There were shouts on the stairs; the crowd was drawing close. Raphael took advantage of his distraction and forced him into the hallway. He pushed Pierre with all the force he could muster so that Pierre was hanging half over the railing backward, his neck exposed to the blade. "How does it feel, young prince, knowing you're about to die for the second time?"
Jean-Pierre let a roar rip from deep within his chest, reminding everyone of the king lion on his coat of arms. Quickly he twisted; alas, he was too late. The dagger bit his flesh over and over and over, finally making a long dragging mark at the base of his throat. Blood spattered all across the hall and onto the walls. He could hear gasps and cries from the landing below. Raphael turned. Pierre wrenched the dagger from his hand and arced the blade through the thick meat of his neck. He fell first to his knees, and then collapsed - dead.
The room went black as the last of his strength left him. "Blood," he whispered.
* * *
Jean-Pierre was carried to his room and left in the care of his newest servant, a pale girl called Jamie. His father thrust a bottle of blood in her hand, glaring at her, before leaving and slamming the door closed behind him. Light from the shredded curtain cut across the room, not quite reaching his bed. His wounds were quickly healing into thin, pinkish lines - the worst at the base of his throat. His shirt lay open, exposing his chest. The many knife wounds were healing at various paces. Jean-Pierre moaned quietly in a fevered sleep.
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Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2012 3:19 am
 ♣ Jamie Katherine ♣
"It's still morning?" She yawned and suffered the aftereffects of the first deep sleep of years. Another eruption of cries brought her into this new and odd reality again.
Mayhem.
Jamie rushed out of her room and towards Pierre's quarters, but she was too late. The door she had entered through revealed a full grown man leaning over Pierre as he pushed him half-way over the railing. The man stabbed him repeatedly in the stomach, and then in his throat. Jamie wanted to scream for him to stop and take the knife from him like one would take a potential dangerous toy from a child, but she couldn't. Her limbs were frozen in fear and panic. Everything happened in a blurry flash. Pierre got the upper hand and killed his offender, but he wasn't looking so good either. Jamie, now revived, rushed to his aid and caught him gently just in time before he collapsed to the floor. He was heavy - she could barely tolerate his unconscious head on her lap.
Rough, hasty hands pulled him away from her. A bulky figure grabbed her at the shoulder and yanked her along. She could feel it bruise, but she couldn't care less. His bloodied face flashed in front of her and it started to make her sick.
The figure shoved her to the ground and threw a bottle of blood at her. They left her to deal with the bodies that scattered the castle. Jamie's hands fumbled over it nervously, trying to open it. Her skin became numb with the friction, but it budged and rotated easily afterwards. She lifted Pierre's head ever so slightly and brought the bottle's mouth to his lips. The fresh blood filled his mouth and dripped down the corners of his lips.
"Come on, Pierre. Swallow." She muttered, panicking.
He groaned and swallowed heavily. At once his wounds started to heal inconsistently, but surely. Jamie let out a relieved sigh. He was going to be all right.
"I thought vampires were supposed to be invincible?" She whispered, smiling faintly at her recovering master. They were lucky this time. Next time she should do something, because he might not survive. Even so, she did not want to see the only person she could trust in pain again.
She decided to stay with him and watch him carefully for any signs that his state was worsening, or be there to offer her service once he woke.
She glanced down at the silver band around her wrist. It glinted in the intruding sunlight. She was sired to him for a reason. She was supposed to be there. She was supposed to have prevented this. Why did she have to be so weak? Why did she have to be human?
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2012 2:52 pm
Jean-Pierre's eyes snapped open. His hands flew to his chest. A servant girl of his father's entered the room. "You," he shouted at her, "Get me a knife. Hurry and talk to no one!" She stood, frozen in fear. He grabbed the bottle of blood from Jamie's hand and threw it at the wall beside the girl's head. She snapped out of it and ran from the room as fast as she could. Pierre continued to claw at his chest frantically. "He put his venom on the knife," he snarled.The servant returned with the knife, a rag, a bottle of blue liquid, and a pan of hot water. She handed the knife to Jamie and set the other items down on a table, refusing to come any closer. She fled, closing the door firmly behind her. He snatched the knife from Jamie and began slicing open the wounds.
Blood sprayed everywhere. "Give me the pan and cloth." Jamie set them on the bed in front of them. He dipped the cloth into the water and cleaned his wounds. "Now the bottle." He dripped the blue liquid into the long gashes. They sizzled and smoke came curling into the air from within. He clenched his bed sheets in silent pain. Eventually the wounds melted back together. He leaned back into his pillows in exhaustion. The sun rose higher in the sky as the grandfather clock struck noon. The beams of sun inched closer to the bed. Two men came sweeping through the room - Pierre's father and an older man with ancient eyes.
His father grabbed Jamie's arm. "This is the girl," the other man asked. "Yes, Elder Jacques. She is the one given to my son." Jacques circled her. "She seems fit enough. She'll do. I should have inspected her long ago, I suppose. Now, let us return to the parlor. We have many documents to sort through." He threw Jamie from him toward the bed. "That's quite enough, D'antan. She can walk on her own. Come," Jacques commanded. Pierre's father, D'antan nodded and departed.
Pierre continued to stare at her, bored. "Go fetch me a book from the library. It has a red leather cover and no markings. Don't return until you find it. And do not open any of the books. You are not permitted to even enter that room, so hurry back and don't get caught."
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2012 12:14 am
♣ Jamie Katherine ♣ The instant the bulky figure that she's seen so often had hauled her by the arm, Jamie tensed. Her heart rate increased dramatically and for the first time since arriving here she feared for her life.
What were they talking about? Was she in trouble for not helping him? Would they dispose of her the way Pierre had ordered to dispose the waitress?
She had nothing to explain, fear is a weakness that she was sure would be severely punished. She was nothing but a disappointment to her master and his father.
She looked at Pierre. He was bored again, despite his circumstances. Jamie wanted to scream. She felt like locking herself in a room and screaming her lungs out, but she knew well she couldn't. If she displayed so much of a hint of a troublesome emotional state...
I am weak, she admitted and smiled softly at Pierre. He had ordered her to fetch a book, but...
"Pierre?" she said bravely when all the other ears has left the room. "Is there anything else I can get you besides the book? Perhaps more blood?"
He nodded and dismissed her by turning on his side. She hoped that it was a sign that he'd forgive her and left immediately. She planned to ask the librarian, telling him or her Pierre sent her, but once she got there she changed her mind.
The entrance was enormous, but there were no other way. She prayed that she has spent enough time with Pierre to have acquired some of his scent. That way it would be trickier for them to notice her. She passed the humans' section and intentionally slowed her breathing. Her heartbeat wouldn't listen, however.
Weak, she reminded herself and her heart sank into her shoes.
I shall return with the book, fetch him more blood, and then go back to Pierre and he would smile. She tried to convince herself that it was going to be okay. He will smile dismissively, at the least.
There weren't many vampires in the library. Most of them were preoccupied with paperwork or healing activities. There were five in the entire section. Six, if you counted the Librarian. She frowned at how she knew that, but ignored it and used it to her advantage.
The books were elaborately covered in golden glyphs and crystal adornments and velvet and ribbon bookmarks... After a few hours of searching, she came across it. It was a deep red, like blood, and had no markings on it whatsoever. She stroked its spine lightely and debated whether to open it or not. She wanted to do so badly, but not here. It took her half an hour to get out, avoiding to be seen by scorning figures. She ran, swiftly and purposefully, back to Pierre, but didn't enter yet. She knew she shouldn't, but...
Pierre coughed with a slight fever from recovering from the poison.
How could she disobey him? How could she even think about it?
Even though he was wounded, he had the undeniable power to snap her neck. However, that was not what she was thinking of. She saw his face, in utter pain, yet suppressing it. There was something human in him. Not the racial kind, and not the degrading kind. Something that made her trust him. Something that gave her a little bit of hope that, perhaps, one day he would look at her as if she was actually worth something. In this world, he was the only one who remotely cared about what happened to her.
Blood.
She dashed blindely into a direction, but realised she didn't know where to go and stopped. Not far from where she stood was another servant. Aproaching him proudly, she asked him where she could find bottled blood. He eyes her up and down, causing Jamie to feel uncomfortable, and rested his eyes on her chest.
"Where did you get that book?" He asked, frowning confused.
"Do not change the subject," she warned as if she had authority over him. It startled him, but he challenged her back.
"Why you act so high and mighty, slave?"
"Prince du Bouvier sent me, stop wasting my time with petty questions." She wanted to add something like imbecile, but reconsidered it. Her reputation and Pierre's would be tainted if she wandered from professional ways.
"Oh," he breathed, returning to his insecure self. She refused to pity him.
Rather him than me, she thought and discarded the guild feeling tugging at her gut.
"Here, my mistress didn't need all of hers." He handed her a cooler-box that she checked to contain around six bottles of blood.
"Thank you," she turned and ran towards where Pierre was awaiting her, hoping it was the sort that he preferred.
"Pierre?" Jamie whispered when she gently set the book and the box down on the bed. He was lying in a sleeping position with his back toward her. She was afraid to wake him if he really was sleeping.
She opened the box and knelt at his head, opening it. The scent was overwhelming, but for some odd reason she was used to it. She held it up to him, watching his quivering eyelids tentatively.
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2012 11:25 am
Without opening his eyes, he knew she was there. "Where is my book?" He felt her place it next to him. He pulled it close to him and lay there for a while. Finally, he rolled onto his back and opened the book. Pierre could feel Jamie's eyes on the book as he thumbed through it. Her heartbeat was loud. "Can't you do something about that," he asked angrily, "Never mind, just give me the blood." She slid him a small bottle from the cooler. He pulled out the cork and brought it to his lips; the scent reached him. He pulled the bottle away and looked at her sharply. "What the hell is this?" He threw it to the floor where it shattered. "Clean that mess up and get me a bottle from my stores. He pointed to a curtain in the corner of the room next to the window. Behind the red curtain was a small door, just tall enough for Jamie. He took a key from around his neck and placed it around hers. "Keep this with you at all times and guard it with your life. Now go." She busied herself with mopping up the blood. He returned to his book.
There must be some way to stop her heart from making noise without turning her... He skimmed the pages and suddenly remembered... "Hurry up," he told her, "I have matters to attend to in the basement and I need my strength.
She hurried over to the curtain and drew it back, bending slightly to unlock the door. He threw a wistful glance at the beam of sunlight and silently slid out of bed, wandering toward it. He stopped just short of it and stared at the beautiful thread of light. He reached out to touch it with his fingers stretched out in welcome, but immediately curled them back into a fist that fell to his side. He hung his head, waiting for the blood. He'd have another repair the curtain while he finished his business.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 12:43 am
 ♣ Jamie Katherine ♣
What has she become? Exactly what humans were meant to be in Ravenheart - slaves or food. She realized this a bit too late. The source of her growing agony and longing. Her pride was being stabbed over and over again by a beast who thought he could get away with it, and perhaps actually could. If she made an irrational movement now, he would most certainly kill her and drain the blood from her carcass.
Vampires. she sneered. Either they believed themselves to be superior, which they most likely are, and believed so in a snobbish way.
That brought back memories - snobbish.
There was a girl in Jamie's highschool back on Earth. She was beautiful, according to the boys in her grade - oversized breasts and a big butt. It wouldn't suprise her if she had slept with everyone in that grade. She bossed them around like dogs; like slaves and no matter how cruel she was to them, they kept coming back for more. She had to have some kind of hold on them to cause that sick sense of loyalty. Until Jami stabbed her with a pen and told her she'd make her fake boobs fall off. She left and Jamie got expelled. That was exactly what was going to happen if she stood up for herself and others here. Her Master would rip her heart from her chest, as he wanted to do from the beginning. It would die in his hand and she would sink to the floor in pain, her brain keeping her alive for a few more seconds. It would start a war, most likely. Or promote one that was already on the theatre.
This is what this is, a theatre. The world is a stage...
Jamie swallowed hard and waved her hand as if shooing her thoughts. Besides, she wished he would turn him. She remembered how he had fed on that girl and her lip curled slightly. She wouldn't mind someone more careless to turn her, but Pierre was her best bet. He wanted her heart to stop beating, and she bet her breathing and clumsiness, and ignorance, was annoying him too. She finished mopping the floor and returned the items to their place. Then, with a new and determined pride drawing back her shoulders and lifting her chest slightly, she halted before Pierre, looking him straight in the eye without betraying any emotion.
"I want to learn", she said monotonously, handing him a vile of blood from his storage. "I want to read ever book on your species and every other species in this world. I want to know about other servants and other masters, what they eat and drink, and what they do. Is that possible?"
She ended with a line that questioned her brave resolve; that gave him back his authority over her. She didn't expect him to say yes. Instead she expected him to slap her across her face and to punish her severely. Just like he punished the waitress, because of her weak will and stupidity. Atleast Jamie wasn't hitting on him. She discarded him from her trust list and made a mental note to, in her study of everyone around here with or without his permission, look for someone who despises humans, but who would like them enough to agree in turning her. Then she could be immortal. She could take better care of Pierre, even though he didn't really care, and she could fend for herself. She could snap people's wrists and feed on them without regret. She could have some kind of power over those weaker than her. And she would be able to study the Vampire species, or race, until she could recall every word in every one of their books. She would be who she was meant to be.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 9:44 pm
Jean-Pierre stood silent for a while, staring into her eyes until she looked away. "You dare ask me to educate you above your station?" He tugged on the slilver thread around his wrist; the thread around hers contracted painfully as it bit into her flesh. He gripped her upper arm and dragged her from the room, down two flights of stairs, and into the seclusion of the basement. He pinned her roughly against the wall, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "You are never to speak of that again. Do you know what happens to those who learn above their station? DO YOU!?" He grabbed her arm again, feeling the flesh bruise under his fingers as he dragged her through the servant dining area and into another chamber on the left. He closed the door behind them, led her through another door, and dragged her down the steps into a dimly lit corridor. There were several cells full of chained humans. "Take a good look," he told her, and pointed to another door. He crossed the corridor and flung it open to reveal a spiral staircase leading down into the earth. "Twenty floors of hundreds of cells. This is what awaits those who overstep their bounds." He led her back through the inner door so that they were completely cut off in a small room between the cells and the dining hall.
He pushed her gently against the stone wall. He leaned over her, his hands on either side of her head, face dangerously close to hers. "If you are so desperate to learn, you will learn from me. You will read only the books I give to you and you are to read them only in my chambers. You are not to take any materials to your room. In exchange, you will hunt for me and let me feed from you. Do I make myself clear?"
For a moment, there was silence as she looked into his eyes. He brought his face closer to hers so that their noses were nearly touching. His sweet, cold breath swirled around her face and blew a few strands back from her cheeks. His lips began to tingle. He ignored this. "Do I make myself clear," he asked again, quietly and more gently.
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