Teufelsschloßes - Chapter 7
Omi took a step back. “A-Aconite-san?” he asked, blinking. This wasn’t like the man he’d grown fond of.
Dorin stepped closer to Omi. It could have been Omi’s mind playing tricks on him, but there seemed to be a chill in the air, the closer the old man got. “Indeed, with such talent, any king, any Boyar, would kill to have someone like you. Someone like you, close at hand.” Those last three words brought him almost too close for comfort, for the young assassin.
“Aa, Aconite-san, I should go. Pretend you didn’t see anything, alright?” Omi stepped back again, nervously.
Quickly, before Omi could react, Dorin was almost right behind Omi. The tone of his voice changed, taking on an odd, calming quality. “If you join me, you will find that life will be much easier. But if you refuse… well, as promised, I will still have an offering.”
Omi was startled by the voice suddenly behind him, almost flailing. “I-I really should go… The others… they’ll be waiting for me.” Omi said these words, but his voice lacked conviction.
Dorin stepped closer to Omi, putting his hands on his shoulders. The boy should have been uncomfortable with this, but he barely even reacted. “This will only take a moment,” Dorin said softly, his breath ghosting across the boy’s neck.
“A-Aconite-san… I… I should… I should go… Shouldn’t I?” The voice that asked sounded little like a trained assassin, and much more like a confused child.
“Please, stay for a while. It won’t be for much longer.” Omi could feel lips forming a smile against his neck, before feeling the tiniest of pricks. He started slightly, but as he felt himself weakening, his blood being drained, his eyes lost their shine, dimming to a dull blue. His mind cleared, as he fell into a trance.
Dorin-no, Dracula-took his time. He drank of Omi’s blood slowly, savoring the slightly metallic-tasting liquid. It was a most interesting flavor, holding both the edge of sweet innocence, with the darker, duskier flavor that ones who lived in the shadows of society could only provide. He drank deeply and fully, stopping just short of the point of terminal loss.
Keeping the boy in his trance, Dracula stepped back, removing his hands from his shoulders, after making sure the child would stay upright. He walked around to Omi’s front, running a hand down the innocent-looking face. Such a beautiful contradiction, this one was. He did the darkest of deeds, yet still thought of himself as innocent. He would enjoy corrupting him.
However, the trance would not keep the boy from dying for long. “And now,” he told the oblivious boy, “for your reward.” He deftly cut open his wrist with one clawed finger, pressing it tightly to Omi’s mouth, holding the back of his head with his other. His purpose was clear: The boy would drink, or the boy would drown.
His mouth filling with blood, the trance was broken. He tried to spit the blood out, but the hand was clamped too tightly. He gagged, trying to fight, but eventually he was forced to swallow the blood, or it would go into his lungs. He swallowed by the mouthful, the blood seeming to have no have no end to the supply. It felt strange, going down, and sat uncomfortably in the boy’s stomach, but at the same time, the power in the blood was affecting him, making him desire more of it. Gradually, he became more and more eager, until he found himself actively sucking on the wound. The vampire removed his hands, and watched the boy with a wry smile. How would he take to the Change, he wondered?
Not well, would have been the response, had Omi been in any position to answer. The unsettling feeling in his stomach intensified to pain, as the blood absorbed into his body, spreading throughout it, and forcing a change on the genetic level. He doubled over, calling out for his teammates, for anyone to come and help him.
Dracula frowned. He didn’t know how close the other three Hunters were, and he couldn’t afford them discovering the boy before he had finished Turning. He doubted they would find a way, but the physical change alone was not permanent, and he did not want to lose his new pet. Especially not when he had such plans for the child. Casting a spell over the tormented boy, he plunged him into a deep trance, much deeper than the one his Suggestion had caused. Omi’s body went limp, his breath so shallow that it seemed as if it were non-existent.
The Vampire Lord had never seen a Turning go so poorly. He wondered if it was due to the boy’s unique situation, before hearing one of his teammates making his way to the stair. He could not escape, not with the boy, at least, and would not bequeath the boy’s body, so he summoned wolves to hide in the shadows, and keep the boy’s team from retrieving him.
For a dramatic flair, he brought out the floral arrangement he’d purchased. As if foreshadowing what had been to come, the freesia had withered and died, though the dark red rosebud had bloomed, revealing itself to be pure black on the inside. ‘Fitting,’ he thought, as he laid it next to the Changing corpse, before transforming himself into mist, to wait.
Ken reached the landing first, searching rooms noisily until he found their presumed target, dead… and Omi. “G-guys…” he called over the radio, the others already on their way after they’d lost contact with their youngest teammate. “I-I found Omi…” He approached the body, seeing that his pale skin and he didn’t seem to be breathing. His own breath hitched as he saw the flowers, and noted the change to the arrangement. He backed up, as the other two made it into the room.
“Ken, what’s-” Youji broke off, seeing the body. He took a step forward, but Aya held him back. “Aya, what are you-?”
Aya shook his head, as the wolves came out of the shadows, not allowing the three remaining Weiß near their teammate. At the same time, an explosion could be heard from the other building, and rumbling could be heard in this one. “We need to go.”
“But Aya, we can’t just leave him here!” Ken protested.
“We don’t have a choice. Those wolves won’t let us near him, and it sounds like this building is rigged to go. We’ll have to call Kritiker and they can try to recover the body.”
“It’s not a body, you bastard, it’s our friend.” Youji looked about ready to punch him, but the building shook, and the wolves were starting to creep closer. “I hate it when you’re right. C’mon Ken, we need to run.”
“Aya! Youji!” Ken’s protests fell on deaf ears, and he knew his heart wasn’t in them, either. He followed his teammates out the door and down the stairs, making sure the wolves didn’t try to get too close.
As soon as Weiß left the floor, Dracula returned to his normal form, lifting the child easily from the floor. With a wave of his hand, the wolf pack dispersed, and he himself jumped out of an opening in the unfinished wall. Landing effortlessly on the ground, he activated the rest of the explosives he’d put in the building, watching as it became demolished in precious little time. Then, holding his prize to him, he teleported to his castle, to his own throne room, to await the finishing of the process.
[This chapter is an adaptation (and partial retcon) of the first half of this thread.]