Original World: Kian: Haunted Prison: PG
TITLE: The Deal
AUTHOR: faycequevoudras
FANDOM: Original world
PROMPT: Haunted Prison
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 740
SUMMARY: A haunted prison makes a deal for Kian that he can't refuse.
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: Excerpt from chapter 1
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Kian Bell, Trinian Lyonell Oliver Bell, his world and all characters associated with him are purely of my own imagination and are my creative property. Thank you.
Ethan rolled himself back to his desk, pushing the laptop to one side. Part of all that charm and respect was that Ethan wasn't one to talk about money. He didn't talk about anything that wasn't considered polite for mixed company. There were days I wondered if Ethan was a vampire in hiding because he held more old world charms than me. Hell, I don't think I ever had the sort of gentleman's nature that he did. Maybe I wouldn't let him die. It was considered bad form to make vampires unless you knew one had died. It was considered worse form just to kill someone so you could make a new vampire. The advantage was, no one could really confirm if one of us had died or not. Wouldn't be that hard to remember the name of someone I'd seen die over the years. Don't do it too often and no one could really prove you a liar.
Besides, despite popular legend, there weren't that many that lived past their first hundred years or so. The more time that passed, the more humanity you lost. The more humanity you lost, the less likely you were to hide what you were and the more chances that were taken. Stupidity and age tended to work against most vampires when it came to longevity. Why I tended to reincarnate myself every twenty years or so. Most vampires didn't know my age. A lot of them didn't even catch that I was a vampire, thinking me to be just another human with too much knowledge. Oddly it was those humans, like Ethan, that tended to live longer.
"Say it,' I cooed, leaning down over his chair and brushing Ethan's ear with my lips. "Come on. Just this once. Be dirty. Be filthy. Do it." I hadn't expected the chair to the knees. The flick on my nose was entirely commonplace though. "I'll take that as a no."
Slinking into the chair across from Ethan I knew he was going to take his time. I had my ways of punishing him, and he had his of returning the favour.
"They want you to spend all night in the prison. Just you, a camera crew of two and whomever you deem fit to take with me. Stop looking at me like that, I'm not going,' he said without ever looking up. "You will be locked in at seven in the evening and then released at seven in the morning. Should you become so frightened that you feel the need to leave early then you will be required to make an on air statement, both on your show as well as a single talk show that they deem appropriate, admitting that the prison was too haunted for you to stay in. If you don't make it the entire twelve hours then the payment is forfeit. Should you make it,' he said, lifting his head. "Then they'll be paying you this sum in its entirety in a cashier's check." With that he slid the paper across the table to me. I suppose I'd been forgiven. For now.
Leaning forward, I read the number. Then picked it up to read it again, closer. Then a third time, outloud. Looking to Ethan, I saw what I had been looking for all morning. A smile. "You sure you wrote this right? Maybe added a zero... or two?"
While I had leant closer, Ethan leaned back and settled into the leather of the chair. "Not only is it correct, they've upped it twice in the last hour when I told them I wasn't sure you'd take it. Another half hour and they might add another five thousand, but I wouldn't keep them waiting."
"Why the hell not? Five thousand may be nothing in our banking but..."
Holding up his hand, Ethan gave me a fatherly glare. "You're not the only game in town, Kian. There are other psychics."
As if. "Not with my track record."
"Cheaper."
The argument could go back and forth for hours. I caved because I knew that Ethan wouldn't. Might have bought me the half hour, but would have annoyed the man that knew the numbers to my off shore bank accounts. Winning the argument wasn't worth risking that. "Call them. Tell them yes. When do they want me?"
"I already cleared your schedule for tomorrow night,' he said primly, snapping the laptop open.
Bastard.
AUTHOR: faycequevoudras
FANDOM: Original world
PROMPT: Haunted Prison
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 740
SUMMARY: A haunted prison makes a deal for Kian that he can't refuse.
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: Excerpt from chapter 1
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Kian Bell, Trinian Lyonell Oliver Bell, his world and all characters associated with him are purely of my own imagination and are my creative property. Thank you.
Ethan rolled himself back to his desk, pushing the laptop to one side. Part of all that charm and respect was that Ethan wasn't one to talk about money. He didn't talk about anything that wasn't considered polite for mixed company. There were days I wondered if Ethan was a vampire in hiding because he held more old world charms than me. Hell, I don't think I ever had the sort of gentleman's nature that he did. Maybe I wouldn't let him die. It was considered bad form to make vampires unless you knew one had died. It was considered worse form just to kill someone so you could make a new vampire. The advantage was, no one could really confirm if one of us had died or not. Wouldn't be that hard to remember the name of someone I'd seen die over the years. Don't do it too often and no one could really prove you a liar.
Besides, despite popular legend, there weren't that many that lived past their first hundred years or so. The more time that passed, the more humanity you lost. The more humanity you lost, the less likely you were to hide what you were and the more chances that were taken. Stupidity and age tended to work against most vampires when it came to longevity. Why I tended to reincarnate myself every twenty years or so. Most vampires didn't know my age. A lot of them didn't even catch that I was a vampire, thinking me to be just another human with too much knowledge. Oddly it was those humans, like Ethan, that tended to live longer.
"Say it,' I cooed, leaning down over his chair and brushing Ethan's ear with my lips. "Come on. Just this once. Be dirty. Be filthy. Do it." I hadn't expected the chair to the knees. The flick on my nose was entirely commonplace though. "I'll take that as a no."
Slinking into the chair across from Ethan I knew he was going to take his time. I had my ways of punishing him, and he had his of returning the favour.
"They want you to spend all night in the prison. Just you, a camera crew of two and whomever you deem fit to take with me. Stop looking at me like that, I'm not going,' he said without ever looking up. "You will be locked in at seven in the evening and then released at seven in the morning. Should you become so frightened that you feel the need to leave early then you will be required to make an on air statement, both on your show as well as a single talk show that they deem appropriate, admitting that the prison was too haunted for you to stay in. If you don't make it the entire twelve hours then the payment is forfeit. Should you make it,' he said, lifting his head. "Then they'll be paying you this sum in its entirety in a cashier's check." With that he slid the paper across the table to me. I suppose I'd been forgiven. For now.
Leaning forward, I read the number. Then picked it up to read it again, closer. Then a third time, outloud. Looking to Ethan, I saw what I had been looking for all morning. A smile. "You sure you wrote this right? Maybe added a zero... or two?"
While I had leant closer, Ethan leaned back and settled into the leather of the chair. "Not only is it correct, they've upped it twice in the last hour when I told them I wasn't sure you'd take it. Another half hour and they might add another five thousand, but I wouldn't keep them waiting."
"Why the hell not? Five thousand may be nothing in our banking but..."
Holding up his hand, Ethan gave me a fatherly glare. "You're not the only game in town, Kian. There are other psychics."
As if. "Not with my track record."
"Cheaper."
The argument could go back and forth for hours. I caved because I knew that Ethan wouldn't. Might have bought me the half hour, but would have annoyed the man that knew the numbers to my off shore bank accounts. Winning the argument wasn't worth risking that. "Call them. Tell them yes. When do they want me?"
"I already cleared your schedule for tomorrow night,' he said primly, snapping the laptop open.
Bastard.