Sweet Dreams: A Thousand Nights of Terror

Title: Sweet Dreams: A Thousand Nights of Terror

Summary: From the first time he saw the caramel skinned boy in his dreams, Acheron knew he had found his life-mate. A Pharaoh in Egypt, A Prince in Romania, a Warrior in Rome, each and every life plays out within his dreams as his young mate walks the bleak horizon of eternity alone. For centuries Acheron has searched in vain for the very one he seeks, his only reward being that he knows that the one he needs is alive and waiting for him somewhere. But finally, as the dreams go blank and dark, Acheron realizes it is now that he will find the one he seeks….and be damned to ever release him again.

Authors note: These Characters are mine and if they resemble any person living or dead it is pure coincidence. A guide to the terms and other such things will be put up soon. Each term will be defined as it comes around in the story so that as you read you can understand what exactly is going on. This story is part of a much larger series, at this point unnamed, that will have plenty of other stories to go along wit it as well.

Warnings: Death, talk or sex. I will post warnings for every chapter at the top, here, so that you know what is comming.


Guide:

Master: A creature much like a vampire, created when the blood of the Creator fell to earth in the War of Tes’laki. They however are highly unlike any other vampire, aside from the fact that they drink blood, and sometimes sleep in either a coffin or the ground. Masters are pureblooded creatures, and are as beautiful as the angels that roam Tes’laki. Ruled by the twins, Demascus and Acheron, it is a powerful organization.

Draykes: Draykes are the ‘offspring’ of Masters. When a Master converts a human or another creature they are not considered pureblooded, and are labeled Draykes. They are less powerful then Masters and are often used as servants. However unlike Bloods, who are mere slaves, Draykes are well taken care of and respected by all.
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Romania, Transylvania
Castle Rose
June 14th, Midnight

The night was silent beneath the coolly observing silver moon, except for the hard, labored breathing of one lone runner. Below the heavenly spotlight it appeared that it was a young man merely using the peaceful serenity of the night, a bit of early exercise. But a closer eye would notice the terror in bright grey eyes, the trembling limbs nearly tripping over each other in his haste, as he darted through the trees. It seemed he was running from something, something unseen that drove him to such fear. An animal? No, another sound enters the night, the thundering sound of......hooves? Yes, hooves. A horses wild gate, louder now as the runner falters, louder still as something flashes beneath the silver light. It would seem that this is a game of cat and mouse, with the favor in the feline's corner. But the mouse is fast; indeed long legs have carried him quickly. He is almost nearing a tall bridge; it looks as though he could escape. However he miscalculates, he saw the long snarled branch but thought he could jump it, and it was a terrible mistake.

Our young runner has hit the ground, his foot now stuck with an ankle wrenched terribly to the side, one shoe falling off into the sucking mud beside him. Is it broken? Yes, that would seem to be true, as the boy cannot rise in time and it would seem he knows what is to happen. Can he see his very life flash before him now, I wonder? The massive black horse is now only a scant three feet away, stopping its mad race now that its prey is upon the ground. The rider dismounts, one black gloved hand fondly tracing the large cords of the animal’s throat, and walks idly over to the struggling figure. The boy turns, lets out a cry of dismay, and fights harder against the root that has him immobile.

“Now, now James, you should have known that running like that would eventually get you hurt." A voice of the purest silk, a tone of the richest honey, rings with laughter as though the rider and runner were merely seconds before enjoying a joke of some sorts. James, the name meaning Supplanter. Oh, how ironic indeed, as you my dear reader shall soon learn. But first we must bare witness to this... spectacle of sorts. Yes, a spectacle, a great one at that. Hush now, let us listen to the words that spill forth, as these next few whispers will be lost to the darkness forever, and never see the light of day again.

“Acheron.....Please. Please, you don't have to do this. I love you, I love you so much! Please! I can be whatever you want me to be... whoever you want me to be. I can change. I can be just like Him, I can change for you. I can be Nickolai." James is crying now, the tracks marking dark cheeks. Acheron merely cocks his head, starring at the fallen with a slowly forming smile. It does nothing to elevate the terror of the situation, in fact it does just the opposite. A new rush of fear causes James to soil his silken trousers, the dampness humiliating as it tracked down his long, lean legs.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet child. You do not love me. You love my wealth, my power, my beauty. I seduced you that night with nothing more than a half hearted proposal of wine and supper at the best establishment in town. You acted as the lowest whore, falling into my arms so easily as I whispered to you that I was a Prince, a Prince of a noble county. You saw power, money, and luxuries beyond imagination in those simple lines. And then you dare say that you could be a being such as Nickolai? Nickolai who is the purest, most spirited creature that has ever walked this unfit earth? You resemble him, I must admit, with your silky brown locks and your deep grey eyes, but you could never be he."

" Then let me please you...until the day you find him. I'll be good, I'll do anything you could possibly want. Remember.... remember that time when you said that I had the most skillful mouth in all of Europe? I can do that again, I can take you in all the way, and you would love it. I know you would, you would see that there is a reason to keep me. Please....please just don't do this!"

Yes, it was always like this. They all begged and bribed with their sexual favors, promising him delight after delight from their bodies. He supposed it was because they knew eventually they would die, or just get used to the unending torment, and at this point it may be better then whatever he had in store for them at the very moment. He wondered at that thought. No Master, not even a Drayke, would be so low as to offer their bodies in exchange for life. They would rather die then go through anything of the sort. Mortals though were another species entirely. Perhaps it was because he had never been one, never touched that life so intimately, that made him think this way. Acheron however merely shrugged his lithe shoulders to the very night. It was not is place to judge.

“I was going to give you an easy death James. I was merely to slit your while you lay asleep, peaceful after our passionate night together. That is what I did for all the others, always so kind and merciful. But you awoke and ran before I could do so. Now, I must kill you outright, and you must suffer the fear and agony. Poor James, I did like you. It is just that I am a perfectionist. I torment myself with beautiful young men who resemble my love. But you are too sinful, too greedy. You are nothing like him."

" Acheron.......please." It was no more then a whimper, and for a long moment the red haired man starred down upon this broken boy with a look of true pity. But it did not last long. He made a small sound, his lips forming a word or two, before he lifted one booted foot. There was a silver spike on the back, something akin to a dagger, and James sobbed in fear once more. Babble came from his lips, most likely more pleading that did not reach the man's ears. The boot came down upon his neck almost gracefully, the silver point sinking into mortal flesh. A terrible crunching sound followed, and James seemed to finally stop pleading as the lights in his gray eyes turned dark and hollow. Acheron starred down upon him, even as he pressed the boot harder to pulverize the throat completely, and couldn't help the small smile that touched his lips. How he had hated pretending to be what he had, a simple careless Prince taking on a lover in the States. But he was home now, back in Romania, where he had so desperately craved to be. The night excepted him here, the dawn feared his arrival, and all that was in between caressed him sweetly like some virgin lover.

" Master."

He turned only as Michael's voice called out, and the spike to his shoe twisted deeper into the dead body. The young Drayke, with his long black locks and deep green eyes, awaited him from the shadows. Acheron allowed another smile as his servant approached, the fog of the night clinging to his shoulders and lithe body. Coming up no higher then Acheron's rib cage the boys head tilted up in respect.

" He decided to run, my friend. He decided to let fear rule him, and earned the death of a coward. But such a beautiful moon to die under, the very light seems to bath him for his journey to ' Iad'. His body will be taken care of soon enough by the elements, and the Bloods will soon sent him, but his soul has already departed."

" What was left of his soul any way." The boy said, those green eyes narrowing. Acheron let out a delighted laugh at his young friends words. Yes, James had been a foul creature the days he had walked the earth. Mean, cruel, always a lazy little thing. He had hoped that he would become a CEO's whore and live his life in luxuries. Acheron had made his dreams come true, for the most part at least. He had given him diamonds, gold, silks, all the things Nickolai had loved. He had pressed beautiful amethyst cloaks and gems upon this boy, attempting to make him even more resemble his beloved. But though the hair was a chocolate brown, as silken as any fine sheet, and the skin was a smooth caramel shade, those gray eyes did not reflect the same way Nickolai's did. They did not glow with the deepest of purple shade, glittering in the moonlight for all to see. The boy was much too tall as well, nearly as tall as himself, where as his beloved would rise no father then Michael.

" Yes, yes, that is why his God shall forsake him from that golden palace in the sky. But let us go now Michael. I hunger for blood much more pure than this one could offer, and I need to finish my work." The spike rose with a sickening sound, the flesh having quickly settled around the silver point, and Acheron pulled it off from his boot effortlessly. He brushed it the length of James's leg, staining the dead man's silken pants even more. When he had finished cleaning it Michael took it from his hand, wrapping it in a small green silk pouch to be carried back to the castle.

Acheron elegantly mounted his stallion before inviting up the young Michael, taking the pale hand that was offered. The boy fell in behind his Lord, holding loosely to the silken cloak his master had worn this night. Immediately they sped off together, leaving the bloody, broken body of the boy who would only be Prince in his own mind from this day forth. Underneath the pale moonlight his body seemed to become a statue, unmoving and cold to the world he once belonged to. And now the only sound that broke the still silence of this night was the deep thunder of hooves as the Devil himself seemed to fly back to his castle in the darkness.