the Waking of Arthur: by Netta Johnson08:34 Mar 06 2011
Times Read: 526
Arthur Waynick…
He was known not so much for his great age but for his violent turns of temper. As a vampire, the emotional rages from the blood made him a walking well dressed nightmare even in his inner circle.
There were rules however Arthur skirted many of them as his demon convinced him that they were low flying flights of fancy. Only someone that insane could successfully skim the edges of such a horrific society. It was Arthur Wainrite/Waynick who held the real power since the time of Hamarabi. Yet, to anyone but himself The Security arm of the coven was the only group that held any kind of sway over others like him. Most like his peers, his enemies, or even other kinds of creatures not quite human the Cam could hold them in check. It took only lucid moments when the demon had been sleeping off a bender that made perfect timing to get Arthur back on track.
Frustratingly, more often than not, the Keeper of the security of the coven would receive
"red" gifts from Arthur, such as a headless corpse of the more unlucky acolytes sent his way. A very bad day to be a messenger when going to his house! His various guests would always enjoy a Arthurian centerpiece, usually the head of the most recent coven messenger sent by his off times “ex” lover Sidney.
There on a heavy hand carved ancient dining table covered in gold blood stained leather and hand laced with rubies lay the head the newest victim. There it lay, the centerpiece of a bloody fondue fountain, with Its face frozen in a mottled grey and black rictus grin. Arthur’s guests were greedily feeding on dark purple layers of flesh slicing off a nose or ear. Anyone lurking outside close to the old stone mansion would hear the light carefree laughing. However if anyone was peering through the distant windows from the street, they would see the bowing and sometimes dancing of the dark silhouettes of his guests.
Back inside the mansion this banquet continued. ‘Arthur's guests were laughing and they were Dipping messenger chunks in the trickling crimson crude which was made even more horrific because there was music thumping and pulsing from a million dollar sound system ran by a DJ whose exotic tastes bent the imagination of anything less than human.
Many were overindulging their vicious appetites to point of near exhaustion with belly eruptions and vomiting blood. It was these perversions and rumors of worse horrors that kept most vampires away from Arthur Waynick. Even the Welkin of a dead gods Nephelim and the Fallen of the damned, stayed as far away as possible for if they were caught spying the lesser of them would become a part of a sinister version of Arthur's unholy Eucharist.
But even these things began changing. Responding inevitably one would think a sentiency existed in the universe which upon seeing such horrors began rippling strand after strand of unseen threads. Unraveling time and space itself, then and so if one was dreaming on this Equinox night from closed eyelid and coffin, one might see a shaking pale female form and she, pale in contrast to damp and damned throws of blood rages and magic would be taking her control of the coven, or at least trying to. The subtle machinations and intrigues of her dark soul plucking those threads would soon be changing everything. Arthur, even as a powerful vampire with a very short vicious temper and a demon that rode him like a whore from hell, would soon be focused on his fathers works, but not the intent. No that was coming later, a little bit after the weather got hot. For now Arthur was in the throws of one of his lusts driven by who knew what.
So it is on this night in this city of such simple beauty, this night of snow covered streets, that the Coven after having sent this messenger to the house of Waynick, stands Sidney her fists clenched in fury, angrily viewing the body returned with a note pinned to his chest. The acolyte had first been quartered and then his limbs cauterized so as not to drip on the long trip that some how had never raised even so much as a eyebrow at the FedEx office, or of the driver that was so handsomely paid to deliver his "package" all the way from Lowery Hill.
The note read only this: “Don't send someone else to do your job, your highness.”
Sidney was enraged beyond words. She stood pale, and shaking violently. She had accidentally bit the corner of her lower lip while whispering curses to some unseen demon. After all she was the first wife to a number of princes, daughter to Lucifer the Light Bringer, ( well the crazy man told her that on her embrace so long ago that even the dirt had a hard time remembering,…) and consort to …well it was just outrageous! To think that she was being insulted in such a manor, how dare he!
In Vampire society there were many betrayals, one after another over the years. She tried seizing control over the city but it was in vain, since the currant prince really didn’t care and had unbelievably good resources. That and the Coven was always about the prince this and the prince that, but her father for some reason had always intervened. But as of the last hundred or so years, since she embraced Arthur, he was not so much involved in her life. It was a "Balance of power belongs to those who wield it blindly" he would say but, she never cared what her father said, the crazy old lunatic! …To her it seemed like an empty thoughtless
placation...Yet some how, now she had been unnoticed by her fathers latest protégés some humans, this infuriated her even more, it was as if she had no control at all, in the business of procurements. Someone must have been involved in something more important so that her manipulations were never discovered. It would seem that the universe for now was on her side for keeping that part of her plans under cover but not her happiness, if one could call being a “control freak” happiness.
Stabbing a well manicured red nail at her personal assistant she threw herself on top of him. She smiled at him raising her ruby red lips like a curtain, revealing her unnaturally sharp teeth, a stage for her sharp words and some nights, her sharp works of pleasure.
She began to listing all the things she needed to do immediately. Of course she drove this home while grinding her hips painfully into her servant. This went on for what seemed like an eternity but eventually she made her point, and then left for Paris in the dead of night. She had it driven home to her personally like a bad fuck, with this latest corpse that she needed him, Arthur on her side if she was to rule even the slightest over the vampires in Kevin Black’s domain. As a future candidate for Seneschal, she would need him to join her cause. When she returned she told her servants, that she needed her entourage to meet Arthur in person.
It were especially planted to remain ever green. She drove to the alcove by the side entrance and a servant was there immediately to let her inside. No sooner had she entered his mansiowas few months later when the snow was heavy on the ground and the New Year was firmly established that she decided on a pre-emptive visit. Arthur had never responded to the letter she had hand delivered to him, not one word. That was then, this was tonight.
She never said a word to anyone; she just took her own personal car and went over to the mansion.
There it was, the Waynick mansion, lit by soft gold lights on the snow, glittering delicately on carefully manicured shrubs that even in this light and distance she noticed how much it looked like a palace. This told her how much control of his “house" he had.
She was greeted as queen even though hours earlier the place was filled with guests, his servants never tired. Arthur had several attending to her every need while she waited in a lavishly wood carved study. Quickly they were offering her a rarity of blood to drink, claiming it was drained from angels. She laughed at the thought but still found it so very intoxicating she didn’t notice when they left the room. The blood smelled musky, dark and made her think of thick shadows and animals howling in darkened tunnels.
As the heavy wood door swung open there stood Arthur tall, and half cast in his own shadow inspecting her carefully but with a candid but dark intensity. “You’re more focused and involved in the politics of the city then I have heard,” he said.
She couldn't answer directly as she looked into his eyes.
By that time, she was held within him in his mind completely taken and like a confessor at some hellish church; she was now a sinner-confidant. She was suddenly a mere child helplessly held inside him and with him, unable to escape. Where she was once the parent, he was now, and so he smiled, and motioned to another door off to the side of the study. "Follow me; I think we may need more privacy for your confessions." She would have answered but she was still captured and speechless. There were drugs in the blood or something wicked she was not prepared for. He walked silently, a graceful shadow thrown across the room. Opening the door, he motioned her with his pale hand, as she passed barely brushing close beside him she felt a feeling of danger itching deep inside her unbearable that she wanted to scratch. “This way to your salvation,” he said. The words struck a tone that sent shivers down her spine.
They paused and He faced her. Taking her forgotten cup with his hands, firmly around hers and raising it to her lips she took this last sip of blood like a communion. Then he led and as if drawn by an invisible chain she followed him through the narrowing hallway her body compelled and slightly bent in unwilling servitude. It seemed that he wanted to walk her for hours to weaken her. She felt a feeling of penance and lust. She was already so confused that when they had eventually arrived to a large heavily draped chamber she was startled by him as he said sharply, “This is my private room. Even my servants aren’t allowed in here". She felt the words strike her skin, awakening her senses so that she could just begin to see what was in this room. It filled her eyes, and appeared to be a bed. It had a sinister carving over the head board with ruins that she remembered from years ago during her embrace of him at Persephone Station, yet she couldn’t quite make out in the gloom. Four huge dark carved posts rose up to the ceiling and disappeared into the darkness. She thought she heard something but was soon forgetting because he began moving in closer to her. Her body was not her own. Just as she felt the warmth of what she had drunk, she also felt chilled and covered with goose bumps. Her stomach was churning and feeling like it was going to float away. Her head was light while her thoughts became dark, and muddled. He leaned in close sniffing her neck. She nearly fainted by the sudden closeness. She lost any idea of control over Arthur. Sidney had no understanding of how he was doing this to her. She had no will of her own as He let his tip of his tongue touch the bottom of her ear. He cradled her head to one side with one hand and ran the tip of his tongue up and down her neck. His began to move air through his dead lungs so that a breath was fast but measured but directed at her skin. She felt his breathing raise an unbidden pleasure over her, rippling through her body but it could have just been in her mind but it didn’t matter. He exposed his fangs and instantly was deep inside her, his cheek on her neck his other hand cupping and caressing her hair. She new, she was older, wiser and more powerful, but her normally strong domineering presence was melting as she had found herself lost in his grip. Sidney became imprisoned to his wicked touch. In his gaze she had no choice to but to submit her body. Arthur’s illicitly draining, and pulling of her crimson liquid was also taking her mind with it. Her eyes rolled and she shivered, feeling as if lighting kept sending her orgasmic charges. He was pushing and pulling her blood through his clenched teeth, like a wave he added his own vitea in a rhythm that mimicked the subtle intercourse of humans. That dangerous feeling split right down her spine gathering between her legs. They stood wrapped like this infernal communion, like lovers but embracing this lust, they were soon kneeling at the foot of his monstrous luminously bone white sheeted bed. Sidney pressed firmly against his chest while arousing new desires from deep within his frozen blackened heart. There was seduction in kissing each other, almost a battle of will, with a sweet softness covering this relentless power struggle she refusing him but giving in and he taking her body. New lovers like exploring each others lips for the first time, but these two were summoning their personal demons, the soft veil of her roll of servitude ripping here and there while she used her well manicured red nails, leading him, driving him, and showing him in touch after touch, until he made her gasp and fangs went down into him. She was twisting his skin in small bites between her teeth only to release him slowly until he broke himself open on top of her, blood falling in her mouth, on her breasts on her eyes like communion wafers, and to trickle on the billowy bed underneath them. He straddled her voluptuous waist, his gaze once again the dominant priest of his domain.
If eyes are the gateway to soul then deep inside her he became a demonic god to her, usurping even her father. He breaking even her fathers hold on her to enter with her in his own vampire domination ritual. He languished for a moment as if saited. Then Arthur then threw all of his weight forward into her and bending down and kissing her hard. He quickly began running both his hands down each of her arms, subtly seducing her with his touch but pinning her wrists. She realized that itch, that danger she was feeling was her losing control. It was so infernal that she wanted to stop him, but she couldn't make him. She was no more than a servant to his lusts and even more so a slave to his electrifying touches. His mind held her fluttering fear in a cage he taunted her with. Then he stopped kissing her and sat upright still holding her wrists tightly. He bound her wrists by twisting the fabric of the bed linen around tightly feeling his nails rip thru the sheets to find what he had hidden there, a chain of wood carved from an ancient tree that she herself would recognize slowly but only too late, and he twisting and twisting this chain and these linens these ancient shrouds from graves long forgotten binding her firmly as much as any curse uttered from her own lips. When he let go of her wrists he held her with his mind ripping the remains of what was left of her designer blouse sending strips of white silk fluttering like moths, and pearl buttons scattering across the room to fall into the dark. As she listened to the tearing cloth she arched her back and coyly shifted to her right as if to invite him closer while moaning with a deadly passion. He leaned in close to her left ear and whispered, "I have a gift for you, and your going need to it when I’m done with you.
She began twisting forward trying to get close to his neck to get back close under his ear. She began giggling softly, a staccato percussion of beats escaping her lips, just barely reaching his neck. She was straining her bonds just enough so that she was touching him with sound. She turned her head back and forth unable to shut her eyes, but using the sound of her giggling like a lash. In his mind he knew what she was doing and his response was to bind her back with his own laughter, twisting the fabric another turn, twisting the chain tighter. Stopping to look at him, her broken mind was waiting in confused in anticipation. He reached over her, pulling a hidden lever just behind her head and a woman's body dropped heavily down through the darkness, what was concealed in the ceiling now hung a few feet above the bed. Arthurs's victum was bound and gagged. She had been drugged her body covered in small razor thin cuts. She was bleeding and the crimson liquid of this dying woman fell free on them as Arthur began kissing Sidney again. He wasn't done with her yet, this was just the beginning of the fun he would have. There from the floor underneath his bed his hands found the two silver chains he kept there. He took her legs spreading them and lifting them up. He leaned in close again pouring into her left ear, a honey of words that spread through her. "this is going to hurt but the pleasure, ohh the pleasure”! You have just enough blood above you to keep up while I fill you with such visions, such glorious visions."
She hissssed demonic curses at his old fashioned phrases while He continued chaining her legs apart at her ankles. He was so rough that the silver chains he was twisting caused her flesh to turn red, leaving a slight sent of sulfer, it could have been burnt skin and hair but it was the scent of hell born of imagination. She screamed and moaned at the same time."This is just the beginning," he said while leaning over her exposing his long sharp fangs. Arthur slid down to her thigh and bit deep into her again, pulling and pushing the blood. Her own fangs came out and as he licked a trail up her thigh long moments to her breasts lingering sliding his tongue around her slowly raising up to look into her eyes she lunged forward and bit deep into his own breast. They took turns biting each other, first in lust bathing in the dripping blood that was now flowing like a small stream on them and soaking the white sheets crimson black. They wrestled like vicious creatures in a careless childlike way, each soaked in the blood of the other, and the blood of the dieing woman who hung above them, then suddenly they just stopped. They were lost in each others stare. It was as if their souls needed some incomprehensible darkness to cover them from something that may see them sharing the blood within each other. She broke the silence by pulling her bound wrists till they bled. The fabric tore into her and the wood chain he used was slick with blood. There was an ancient taste that rose up like a hot mist to form in his mouth. He moved on top of her eagerly urging her licking her bonds. She could not slide her hands so he pulled the wood away to please her. She again tried to slid her hands down the front of him but this time the fabric tore releasing her so that she began, pulling him tightly towards her.
There were scars on them both which illuminated in red, flaring up like a rash, the written language of ancient beings stark and terrifying covered them both. Like a burn or even worse, like a moving kaleidoscope these scars were reading them both.
Somewhere some “thing” was reading them both.
There they were, diving and driving into each other, by their own cravings and needs yet still completely unaware of the monsters that they were. Or the special way that Arthur bound himself to her. He was large and ready, powered by blood, and an engine that was driven by hells daughter rolling her hips like a piston. He drove her beyond limits dropping back down between her legs, he bit her again and licked her again and filled her up with his own blood. She needed him now, she needed to chew his insides up with her teeth. She needed release.. She moaned and arched her back as he entered her, the blood filling thrust after thrust she drove his engines and oiled his pistoning hips with dark red slickness. His moaning became shouts and curses of deep passion in a foreign language. She held him so tight so close that when she embedded her teeth into his nipple his blood covered her face while he continued pounding her, a red wave washing the shore of her thighs. He made a noise that was almost a scream and she followed him pulling back moaned deeply with his flesh and blood in her mouth. Arthur was light and smoke, filling the air with sound until he began bone breaking spasms. His demon began jerking his body backwards almost in half then to throw him down into her at the waste crushing her beneath him. She saw his light in the tunnel vision of her own face, his eyes smeared with slick dark wetness as if to be baptized by his groping fingers. His was exploring her mouth and touching every inch of her. His was that which rose up on bloody knees taking her by the shoulders and drawing her down on her breasts. She took him in her mouth, a communion that would parody the church of the damned, while casting such a delicious silhouette, sucking and drinking him while pinning him between her fangs. He pulled her up to his face, where she fed him back his own blood, their lips sucking from each other over and over until he could stand no more. He filled his hands with her hair. He sucked in the sent of death. He licked and swallowed every drop she gave him. Arthur Waynick was now Arthur Wainrite taking his Sidney the potential Seneschal of the prince of the Coven in the City, and pushing her down for the last infinite moment, held her head, exploding blood into her, into his mind and himself the thing that he was, at that moment stretched tight and drawn out with warm red saturation, drawn out of him completely, his demon the thing that rode him hard and left him wet with her blood. The universe reverberated hellishly granting them both release. They looked at each and knew that they had just forged a new alliance. What NEVER was hers was now his and what was in him was now hers of the sort of thing which when spied upon from the depths of such darkness can only hint back from the depths of a well of souls.
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