Death Watch

A-N:: Haven't been here in a long while but I'm trying my hand at a new story to see where it might take me. Ignore the grammar errors if you can and enjoy!


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The sweet smell of smog and exhaust fumes dissipated as the summer rain tried to wipe the city streets clean. An impossible task. But was it really summer? Or was it Fall? The beginnings of winter maybe? It didn't matter. Most of the seasons melded together these days. Now the weather was just hot all year round, with a sprinkle of cold days that many assumed were supposed to be winter.

Looking up it was hard to tell the difference between the storm and smog clouds. Either way the rain that fell was very much like acid, scorching the cars with cheap paint and burning through the cloth over hangs of the shop fronts. Many had enough money to protect their belongings from the acid rain showers that often plagued the city during these months. But there were always the hand full that just couldn't afford it, or just didn't care.

The buildings were all black and gray, few billboards even readable having been ruined by the pollution. Gone were the days of vibrancy and light. Now the city was painted on a bleak gray canvas where the artist had no other color except black to use. It was murky, foreboding, and all other synonyms for the word dark. It was also home to so very many.


New Sol City was supposed to be a place of new beginnings but instead now houses what has become of the middle class. Of course many have nearly forgotten the way the world once used to be, where the outside was made of a spectrum of colors. Still as humans, and humanoids, do, the population has adapted to this new beginning, especially those who live in the section of Gravesend.

The neon glow reflected off the wet asphalt, a dull red glow of the silhouette of a naked woman. Many, shielding themselves from the scorching rain flocked to the club, the one joy of nightfall on this side of the city. Isabel's opened as soon as the sun set, fueling the rumors that the strip club was run by vampires or demons, depending on who you asked. Perhaps that, other than the naked women, was another reason each night was just as busy as the next.

The bodies rode and ground against the steel poles that reached up toward the ceiling. The thick aroma of hormones mixing with all forms of lust and sweat filled the air. It was one of the busiest nights so far where the patrons were, at times, forced to stand shoulder to shoulder, dancing or drooling yesterdays sorrows away. The flesh was the best in the area, supple and worthy of all the desire that was thrown upon them as they moved in manners that would make young boys blush. Some still held on to a few articles of clothing, still attempting to coax a bit more money from the men that were lucky enough to be near the stage. Others of course had long since disrobed, drunk off the limelight and their own display of sexuality. Sweat slicked skin slid across the smooth stage, large breasts dragging along the stage floor, just begging to be squeezed. But there was one naked body that was a bit more interesting than all the others. Of course few really noticed as hormones now drove them to spend and drink.

She was in the near center of it all, moving like the other women, long black hair beginning to stick to her breasts and back. The woman was so very similar to the others, the pinnacle of desire, and yet at the same time she just didn't belong. As eyes swept up her legs, one could notice the cars along her skin. Minute nicks along her tan flesh, that is until your eyes managed to find her back and shoulders. There the scars worsened, becoming deeper where scar tissue had formed. Long lines that had once been cuts criss crossed along her back, signs of a painful something that refused to go away. But still she moved and danced, showing no signs at all of being a prude. Her hazel eyes seemed drawn away from the thickening crowd and instead toward the back of the dimly lit club.

A pair of eyes stared back at her, slicing through the high energy dance floor. The face her gaze rested on was a handsome one. Shoulder length blond hair framed his attractive features, a jaw that was just strong enough and high cheek bones that would let him stay young forever. But he was smart, staying away from the crazed crowd, lurking in the background, unseen by many, yet she had managed to spot those azure hues that watched her with a curiosity none of the other men had. Before long there was a pull in his glance, a tug even that attempted to get her off that stage and bring her closer to him. Eventually she couldn't help but obey.

One small tentative foot touched the dirt encrusted floor, the complete opposite of the smooth stage that caught the reflection of the lights overhead. Of course everyone was drawn to her in all directions. This only happened in their fantasies, a naked dancer actually coming down to their level like the decent of a goddess. Immediately hands stretched outward, to touch and grope. Their fingers left dirty smears along her buttocks and breasts. She was a fleshy beacon amongst all the clothe wearing patrons that seemed so dark and shadowy in comparison. No one could deter her from her quest to get to the other side of the room, no amount of pulling or tempting propositions. The urge to get to him was greater than everything around her. Everyone was a mere shadow except him.

The woman came to him quickly, perhaps a little quicker than even he had suspected she would. But there she was, naked and sweating from the swell of her hips to her large breasts. She didn't resist when it was his turn to pull her by the hand, taking her deeper into the club, to a place even darker than where she was before. It was unimaginable but there they were, in a place of total darkness, only their bodies giving off light. Now alone he claimed her, removing the stench of the others with a mere run of his fingers along her slick flesh. He reached around, squeezing her buttocks with both hands as if it was its own entity before sliding one hand back around to her front and claiming one of her breasts, kneading it before he greedily forced it into his open mouth.

The naked danced remained still, body obeying only him even as she felt the brush of his sharp canines along the tip of her erect nipple. Somehow it all felt right and as it should be. He could hear her pulse race within her ribcage, like a fluttering bird trying to escape. It only excited him more. Drawing out the moment he deiced to keep tasting her, forcing her to stand with legs apart as he buried his mouth into her mound, letting his tongue feel along her most sensitive parts. She shuddered then, the first sign that she'd felt any of what he was doing. His tongue searched her further, extending to its absolute limit. A gasp erupted from her pillowed lips, giving way to yet another shudder he could feel deep inside her. Had he not been driven by his hunger, it might have troubled him that the woman was still retaining some amount of movement but as of now her reaction did the opposite. The blond man stood up to his full height once more, pulling the smaller woman to him so he could feel the line of their bodies together and his hard member pushing against her warm flesh.

His strength seemed to know no bounds as he effortlessly picked her up off the ground and pulled her to his hips. He slid in easily with the weight of her body pushing down. With a quick, needful thrust he made sure she took in all of him before he held on to her buttock and began to move her at dangerously quick pace. The woman gasped again as he forced her to move against him, taking in all of his man hood over and over again. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, gripping his finely pressed suit. Her breasts shook with each hard blow, with every few thrusts he managed to catch one between his lips, sucking before it slipped away again. Her gasps came quicker as he continued to pull her up and down, gravity helping along the way, till finally the orgasm he so desperately tried to keep at bay came slamming back at him in an earth shaking crescendo.

The man spasmed, nails digging so hard into her slippery flesh he was sure in the end he'd given her more scars to go along with her collection. He buried his face between her breasts, listening to the fluttering heart beat as he spasmed again and again, forcing her body down on him so hard he was sure he'd bruised her. Unable to stand anymore, he lowered himself to the ground, bending to his knees with her limbs still around him. With his seed spilled he blinked, basking in the afterglow and yet now realizing time was of the essence. He groped her one last time, flicking her nipple between his two fingers. Oh how he liked this one. She excited him in a way the others hadn't before. Like a doll he imagined keeping her on a shelf, where she could stare out blankly, much like she was doing now, with those hazel eyes. Then he could take her and use her when he craved her taste. Yet, alas, he couldn't.

Leaning in he took in her smell one last time before pushing those canines deep into her neck, hopping to hit the jugular. The sweet spot. There was one last gasp, one he was sure would be her death rasp before she would go limp in his arms. Unfortunately, things did not go according to plan. After a few mouthfuls of her blood he realized his plaything didn't go lifeless like she was supposed to. He pulled back his bloodied face to look at her, and that's exactly when he knew something was not right.

His doll smiled, her life less eyes finding his azure pools. Her smile deepened to a toothy grin, and then a chuckle, and then a wicked laugh that echoed in the darkness he'd thought was his. He felt her suck away at the illusion, the otherworldly darkness crawled in her direction as if she were tugging away a black satin sheet. The man watched as she, almost quite literally sucked in his magic, revealing a musty boiler room which he had once made to look like their own universe where only their bodies gave off light. Now the mirage was gone and the reality that was New Sol fell upon them.

Desperate, he kept staring at her, trying to bring forth his magic to ensnare her as he'd assumed he'd done before when he'd made her walk off the stage. But nothing happened, his doll only stood, letting him slip out of her, wet and spent.

“I like the way your magic tastes.” she cooed, swinging her hips as if still coated in a sexual euphoria.

“This cannot be!” The man hissed, leaping back to his feet. Gone were those handsome features, replaced with the wide eyed rage of a mad man. “You are mine!” He went to leap forward and the anger in his eyes flickered to worry. The man, no vampire, was absent of power, no magic. It was gone.

Blood dripped down the woman's front from her neck wound, streaming down around her right breast. “It took me so long to get you alone. And yet I find that you're not as satisfying as I thought you'd be.” Fangs spilled out over her pillowed lips. “Maybe if I take more-” Her words were cut off by something apparently only she could hear as the man saw or heard nothing only saw her flinch which he took as a sign to move toward the door.

She was there before he could comprehend it. Her hand wrapped around his neck, yanking him back and tearing away bits of flesh as she did so. He gaged, desperate to get away and to understand why this trick hadn't worked on her when it had worked on so many others before her. “What are you!” He roared, clawing back at her, riping through her cheek.

“I am going to kill you, Sergei, my little blond prince.” The pain of her wound didn't seem to phase her. Without much effort she tossed him to the other side of the room. “I've fed on your power and your seed. Your magic belongs to me now.”

Not liking the answer she gave he dove for her again, like a cornered rat, obviously destined to fail but unable to simply give up without a fight to the death. Just like a rat the woman, who'd once been his toy, smacked him down. His face made contact with the concrete floor, smashing some of his teeth like glass. His mouth looked like a broken window with all the chipped and broken edges. He bled and it smelled good.

She was on him when the others found her. Naked she straddled him, much like before except this time it was her mouth buried into his neck. She tore away hunks of flesh with her teeth, wanting to go straight to the source rather than be bothered to suck away his life through two small punctures. Oh how ridiculously romantic that bullshit was. If the victim was doomed to die anyway, why bother with being gentle? Blood spurted from the place where flesh and muscle had once been. She'd flayed him with her teeth, gorging herself on amounts of blood other vampires could only dream of.

“Ves'ryn...” The baritone voice didn't pull her away, all too easy to block out with her blood lust. It wasn't till the man who belonged to the voice grabbed a thick chunk of her raven hair and yanked so hard her neck snapped back, that she fell away. The woman gasped for breath, breasts shuddering. His eyes were a frosty blue, attempting to quiet her raging hunger with just one look. “Is it ready?” He asked.

It took two tries for the woman he call Ves'ryn to speak. “Yes. He's weak enough now...” she rasped.

With that the man hoisted her to her feet, much like a parent would an unruly child, grabbing her beneath her arm and moving her away from the bloody mess of a vampire, his non erect manhood still poking out from his expensive suit like worm trying to hide.

A second man moved out from behind the one who'd picked her up, smaller and skinnier than he was. His sandy blond hair stood out in the murky boiler room that had once been a universe fit for for only two.

“Burn him, Shaw. Make him hurt.” Her voice was distant, still affected by the hunger she now seemed to try and separate herself from.

Shaw obeyed with a little nod before the twitching vampire was engulfed in blue flames. He spasmed but this time it wasn't out of pleasure. The vampire's jaw flapped, wanting to scream but unfortunately its vocal cords lay beside him like wet scraps. Useless. Practically drained of energy all the vampire could do was flail as it was engulfed in flames, slowly becoming nothing but ash and soot.

Though she seemed to relish in the sight of the vampire's painful death the look of sheer glee vanished and her posture stiffened when she apparently took notice to something the two men did not. Her eyes seemed to go beyond the boiler room walls, past the boring concrete and even further into the club where so many were oblivious to the murder that had just taken place.

“What is it?” The bigger man asked, without moving his lips. Long brown hair fell over his shoulders as he looked down at her. “Who is coming?”

“His fledglings. I can feel them.” She blinked, eyes still seeming to look through everything around them. “They must know of their master's death.” Her face wrinkled into a deepened look of hatred.

“How many?” Shaw franticly asked as the vampire still slowly burned at their feet. Sergei had long since stopped moving.

“Far too many...” she hissed.

The bigger man grabbed the woman by the arm once more, an action she made sure he knew she disliked. “Stairs.” He said, still without the use of his lips. “We make use of our back up plan.”

Out of the three Shaw looked to be the most unsure, his short blond hair only magnifying his young, boyish features. Her annoyance with the bigger man aside, the woman they called Ves'ryn was the only one who seemed exhilarated by all this while the bigger man seemed neither happy nor troubled by what was going to happen. They had a plan, which had a great chance of ensuring their survival.

The door to the boiler room lead them to a long ominous hallway where they could hear the music echoing from the club along with the cheers of the crowds. The new found light in the hallway set an other worldly glow on the man who, so far, had no name. His long brown hair was so perfect along his tan skin, everything about him was warm, earthy, except for those steely eyes. Ice blue and not at all betraying whatever emotions might be going on beneath his skin. He was blank. A clean slate.

They took to the stairs quickly, taking two and there at a time. The naked woman ended up at the rear, holding her large breasts in one hand, as the fully clothed men stampeded the concrete steps with their boots. Every time her bare feet smacked against the steps a little to hard, or one of her toes was clipped by a step she'd misjudged, she looked at the two with malice. The floors flew by the trio, to the point that some seemed to lose count, just concentrating on making it to the rooftop. A place they'd know they'd reach without needing to know the floor numbers. Unfortunately it just wasn't fast enough.

The unmistakable sound of a fourth pair of footfalls in the stairwell was an alarm bell to all three of them, especially since it was followed by numerous other footfalls below. It was the bigger man who took the first glance down, to see just what was after them. The glimmer of worry on his face spoke volumes to the rest.

“We take them out as we run,” she exclaimed, pausing, starring up at the other two. “There's too many, we'll never make it once we get to the top. Not if we don't take down their numbers.”

“Suicide!” Shaw cried, looking to the bigger man for support.

“That is not the plan.” He said cooly. The oncoming snarls and hisses that accompanied the footfalls behind them only seemed to worry Shaw. “You're still drunk on your blood lust, Ves'ryn. Now is not the time for your petty games. There's no time for you to lie with all of them.”

Ves'ryn smiled, it reaching those dark eyes of hers. “You made a joke. I'm impressed.”

“Guuuuys.” Shaw's voice was filled with worry as he practically danced ahead of them, wanting just to flee, even if it was for nothing.

“I'm right, Frost. I know you can't process it in that thick skull of yours, but we either deviate or we die running like cowards.” She cocked her head to the side, flashing a devilish glance. “Are you a coward, Frost? Always afraid you'll end up like me...willingly lose control...”

The footfalls were now two floors below. They'd make it to them in a matter of seconds given their supernatural gifts. Frost descended the few steps that brought him to Ves'ryn's level, face still giving away nothing, a stark contrast to the woman who wanted him to know without a doubt that she trying to force a reaction out of him..

Shaw's voice came out in a subtle rush. “And here....they....come.”

Three vampires came at them at once. Unlike their past master, there was little magic they could pull. All they had were their fangs, strength and speed. All three of those attributes still proved to be quite a match. It was Ves'ryn's laughter that rode over the sounds of their snarls and hisses. Laughter of a woman amused with carnage and mayhem and had no sense of real physical pain. She singled out one of the vampires and, though stark naked, had little problems reaching her hands out and snatching one of their throats clean out right before gouging the vampire's eyes with her thumbs till the eye sockets were nothing but oozing white puss. To her it all seemed highly amusing, even as one tried to reach into her rib cage and pull out her heart.

It was Frost who quickly put a spin on the attack. Two of the vampires attempted to rush the man, stabbing with their talon like claws, forgetting the seemingly weaker of the three further up the steps. His bones cracked and shifted, beneath his clothing as well as along his face, sounding just as painful as it probably was. Hair pushed up from under his skin, sprouting out in places where there was none or at least very little. His face changed greatly. Where had once been a mouth now was an elongated muzzle, dripping with plasma and other oozing substances that perhaps even he couldn't define. Frost didn't merely shake away the vampires. In fact what he did instead was a bestial roar that flung one of the vampires over the edge of the staircase where it met its end five stories below.

Ves'ryn stood still, holding a strip of flesh in her right hand that had belonged to the broken and bloodied vampire at her feet. She watched as Frost brought his muzzle down on the only remaining vampire snapping off its head in one swift bite.

“Jesus Christ....”

Vesryn looked up to Shaw, who had nearly been forgotten. “Oh don't look so high and mighty.”

They took to the stairs again, Frost now moving like a man beast, at times moving on four limbs instead of two. According to the signs, there were only five more floors to go before reaching the rooftop and possible freedom. For a few moments it looked as if the trio wouldn't have to fight again, the lead they'd gained a great one, but surely none of them had seen Shaw's stumble coming. It happened innocently enough, tripping over his own two feet and falling behind his counterparts. He was obviously the youngest of the three and it showed in his actions.

Shaw called out once he'd realized he'd hurt himself so badly that running at their pace was nearly impossible. Stumbling he hobbled up the staircase, the sound of stampeding vampires behind him seeming like a great impending doom. Frost had been the one to go back, bounding down the stairs. Ves'ryn's nostalgic look vanished completely once she looked behind her, and saw the Pyrokinetic's dilemma. Now that sense of confidence she'd had was gone.

Frost's massive hand grabbed at Shaw's jacket in an attempt to snatch him up and pull him up the handful of floors that were left, but Ves'ryn knew not even he was quick enough. One vampire grabbed Shaw's ankle, ready to begin a type of tug of war it was sure to win. The young man's scream echoed off the walls, ear piercing. The vampire immediately was engulfed in a blue glow, one that had already begun to spread before it knew it was on fire. Obviously, far too panicked to control what he'd conjured, the fire began to spread, at first, to the other vampires, which was in their favor, but as soon as it reached Frost, the werewolf couldn't fight the instinctual urge to howl in pain and let go, beating out the flames that had attached themselves to hist skin and what was left of his clothing.

“Shaw!” Ves'ryn moved down the steps, already knowing her speed wouldn't get her there in time.

Fire danced in the stairwell, spreading over all the bodies that dared move in too close. The screeching of the vampires was defining but their rage caused a few to see through the pain, determined just to snag at least one of the three responsible for the death of their blond prince Sergei. Once again a vampire reached out to Shaw who was to frightened to do anything else but scream. All it took were a few good yanks to stop his screaming and to crush his throat. Surely it was a victory for them, one that was short lived for that particular vampire who met a quick end at the hands of Frost's massive fist that practically took part of the vampire's face off long before it smashed into the wall.

With a fallen comrade dangling in the werewolf's arms the two burst out onto the roof. They were met with darkness and poisoned air. Shaw's body hung like marionette, head hanging awkwardly to one side, eyes still open and pretending to see. Absent was there much needed savior, their ticket home. It was Ves'ryn's cry of frustration that practically spoke for both of them. Frost's head turned left and right, the wolf's head looking odd doing such a human motion.

“What of your plans now?” She hissed, needing to take out her anger on the only other living person with her.

Frost's pointed ear flicked, hearing a sound that was beyond the woman's comprehension. His muzzle pointed toward the sky.

“Up.” he said, still not needing to use his lips.

Even as the sounds of their persuers neared, they both took the time to look up at the sky. At first it seemed like a distant star, which was absurd since it had been centuries since stars had managed to be seen through New Sol's smog. The star grew brighter in an instant. Then it became evident that the star wasn't growing brighter, it was coming closer and that it wasn't a star at all.

The winged being drew closer to the building, leaving a small streak of light in its path. It was ivory against the ebony skies, every feather seeming soft to the touch even from a distance. The two stopped breathing once the angelic creature drew closer. There was no need for air now. Not during their quick journey. The being allowed its wings to open wide, shinning down that white light that just didn't seem to belong in its surroundings.

Then, like the workings of a dream, they were gone.