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Fallen Blood Roses
folder
Vampire › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,324
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,324
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Silver Flask
Chapter 3
"We will not slay you," a voice bounded through the darkness, "Such is the material of fairy tale and legends,". Plus, you are far too valuable to be used that way. We need you for your ability to manipulate...." Michael feigned a shocked expression, and opened his mouth slowly, "No need to respond, we have seen you used your charm and beauty, and we shall give you even more powers... Powers far beyond what you have ever dreamed." the leader boomed. Michael felt sweat ride down his face, and nervously, he looked down at the heaping pile of food. Confused, and trying to keep his mind clear, he thought only of the dirty potatoes, slowly, he chewed them.....
The room was silent, except for the minute scrapping of his fork against the plate... He waited for their response, anything...instructions..rebuke...but nothing came. Instead they simply finished their glasses, and rose from the table. Exiting, without a second glance at them. Quickly, he ran behind them, and together, they walked out of the inn. The wind whipped against his face, closing his eyes, he followed them into the distance, and once again felt himself being lifted upwards onto a horse. The rider flicked his wrist and the horse began galloping at a supernatural speed. Michael knew not where he was going, time seemed to have fleeted them, and he hoped they were not chasing through different worlds, through different ideals, searching for where they\'d come from... "Where are we going," he whispered into the ears of the figure in front of him...... "Where the grasses are green, and fresh water springs are deep, "a rosy voice simpered....
James walked carefully up the narrow staircase. Inside his long trench coat was a flask, full not of alcohol, but with what giveth life, or at least the semblance of life for their kind. Entering Michael\'s house without the notice of his numerous servants had been difficult. Slowly, he climbed, careful not to make a single sound. Finding himself at the top of the stairs, he sighed. Respectfully, and nearly fearfully he knocked. Fearful because the state Michael was in couldn\'t be known. "Come in," a voice cried out weakly. James opened the door, his eyes adjusting to the darkened curtains, a candle giving the only light. "I\'ve brought it," James spoke. "Good.....and is it still fresh," Michael panted. James nodded his head, and sat down near the bedside. "You look pale," he whispered. Michael chuckled and laughed, the inside joke was decades years old, but it never failed. Michael looked up at James, his hair hung in slick curls to his neck, his skin bronze nearly. Michael had never asked him how it was so, but yearned to... Chiseled yet soft was his face, his mouth shaped like a rosebud. Few things made him as happy as gazing at James...his mind flashed once again. "The flask..." he croaked. "give it to me immediately. You here making jokes, and I\'m nearly perishing," he giggled. James laughed, "Oh Michael, I don\'t for a minute believe your that bad off. You simply wanted to see me, wanted to demand that I return from Paris at once, and dared not do it. This \'sickness\' of yours is all a guise, but in love, and in friendship, I have brought you what you requested," James held out the silver flask. Michael grasped it, looking for only moments into James\' dark brown eyes, before downing it furiously. James watched intent, and mildly surprised as life returned to Michael\'s face...he could see the liquid rejuvenating him. He chastised himself for doubting Michael. Everything surely wasn\'t a manipulation..
"You are quite right," Michael answered his thoughts. "Everything isn\'t a manipulation.".. "I was in fact bad-off, and needed you, and you, dearest James came... Thank you," he smirked, moving closer toward him. Carefully, he kissed him on his hand, and then lay back down into the soft covers. James let his thoughts clear, for he hated when Michael read his mind, "Well... I see you have certainly redecorated." James simpered, "I had thought it was a fussy old lady living here. Cushions...chocolates...and it is dreadfully cold in here," James complained. "Old lady?" Michael questioned. Sticking out his tongue, he wiggled it provocatively, "Old ladies have good taste," he growled... "You are absolutely dreadful," James retorted... "Just disgusting..." James laughed at Michael\'s look of feigned insult.
"We will not slay you," a voice bounded through the darkness, "Such is the material of fairy tale and legends,". Plus, you are far too valuable to be used that way. We need you for your ability to manipulate...." Michael feigned a shocked expression, and opened his mouth slowly, "No need to respond, we have seen you used your charm and beauty, and we shall give you even more powers... Powers far beyond what you have ever dreamed." the leader boomed. Michael felt sweat ride down his face, and nervously, he looked down at the heaping pile of food. Confused, and trying to keep his mind clear, he thought only of the dirty potatoes, slowly, he chewed them.....
The room was silent, except for the minute scrapping of his fork against the plate... He waited for their response, anything...instructions..rebuke...but nothing came. Instead they simply finished their glasses, and rose from the table. Exiting, without a second glance at them. Quickly, he ran behind them, and together, they walked out of the inn. The wind whipped against his face, closing his eyes, he followed them into the distance, and once again felt himself being lifted upwards onto a horse. The rider flicked his wrist and the horse began galloping at a supernatural speed. Michael knew not where he was going, time seemed to have fleeted them, and he hoped they were not chasing through different worlds, through different ideals, searching for where they\'d come from... "Where are we going," he whispered into the ears of the figure in front of him...... "Where the grasses are green, and fresh water springs are deep, "a rosy voice simpered....
James walked carefully up the narrow staircase. Inside his long trench coat was a flask, full not of alcohol, but with what giveth life, or at least the semblance of life for their kind. Entering Michael\'s house without the notice of his numerous servants had been difficult. Slowly, he climbed, careful not to make a single sound. Finding himself at the top of the stairs, he sighed. Respectfully, and nearly fearfully he knocked. Fearful because the state Michael was in couldn\'t be known. "Come in," a voice cried out weakly. James opened the door, his eyes adjusting to the darkened curtains, a candle giving the only light. "I\'ve brought it," James spoke. "Good.....and is it still fresh," Michael panted. James nodded his head, and sat down near the bedside. "You look pale," he whispered. Michael chuckled and laughed, the inside joke was decades years old, but it never failed. Michael looked up at James, his hair hung in slick curls to his neck, his skin bronze nearly. Michael had never asked him how it was so, but yearned to... Chiseled yet soft was his face, his mouth shaped like a rosebud. Few things made him as happy as gazing at James...his mind flashed once again. "The flask..." he croaked. "give it to me immediately. You here making jokes, and I\'m nearly perishing," he giggled. James laughed, "Oh Michael, I don\'t for a minute believe your that bad off. You simply wanted to see me, wanted to demand that I return from Paris at once, and dared not do it. This \'sickness\' of yours is all a guise, but in love, and in friendship, I have brought you what you requested," James held out the silver flask. Michael grasped it, looking for only moments into James\' dark brown eyes, before downing it furiously. James watched intent, and mildly surprised as life returned to Michael\'s face...he could see the liquid rejuvenating him. He chastised himself for doubting Michael. Everything surely wasn\'t a manipulation..
"You are quite right," Michael answered his thoughts. "Everything isn\'t a manipulation.".. "I was in fact bad-off, and needed you, and you, dearest James came... Thank you," he smirked, moving closer toward him. Carefully, he kissed him on his hand, and then lay back down into the soft covers. James let his thoughts clear, for he hated when Michael read his mind, "Well... I see you have certainly redecorated." James simpered, "I had thought it was a fussy old lady living here. Cushions...chocolates...and it is dreadfully cold in here," James complained. "Old lady?" Michael questioned. Sticking out his tongue, he wiggled it provocatively, "Old ladies have good taste," he growled... "You are absolutely dreadful," James retorted... "Just disgusting..." James laughed at Michael\'s look of feigned insult.