Post by maezyness on Mar 15, 2008 16:45:05 GMT -5
Hehe. So, this is writen for when Tessa is in her begining days of the week when she needs to feed. Its one of her more...unagreeable months...
*Covers are thrown back and the Lady of the house rises. Sliding fingers through her hair, she grabs a soft silken robe to cover her scantily clad body, not bothering with slippers. Feet pad over wooden floors, moving swiftly down one of the hidden passages in the house, bypassing the main floor and heading directly for what is laughingly called a basement. Stone walls reinforced with steel rods. Cells lining the walls along with a large iron door, a small slit cut in the front. She breezes right past that door, not giving it a second glance as she moves down a small hallway that even she has to duck to get through. Coming out the other side she stands straight, fingers steepling in front of her chest, dark lifeless eyes moving around the room. The three there, covered in dark red cowls, faces averted, cower when she comes in. Whimpering they move against the wall, the more forwards on reaching an arm out, gnarled finger pointing to the metal table in the center of the room...*
~Mistress, we found you a young one....will they do?~
*her eyes turn, body gliding gracefully and soundlessly to the table to look down upon the young man. Early twenties possibly. Blood red lips purse into a tight line, her eyes sliding over him. Fingers, nails elongated from their normal short length, move to slide chestnut brown hair off his shoulder, running along the side of his face. Fingers slap the side of his face sharply, causing his dark brown eyes to snap open. Paralyzed he is, tied down to the table in case, strap of cloth covering his mouth. Muffled noises come from behind the cloth and she ignores them, turning to stare at the three. Fingers steeple in front of her again, appraising them, considering. Nodding once she turns her back to them and they stumble from the room, shutting the door behind them.
Walking back to the table, she looks down upon the man, face cold as she runs another long nail over his shoulder and arm, the three having stripped him naked before her arrival. Her nail leaves a long, angry red cut along his skin, droplets of blood raising to the skin. Leaning down, her tongue slides out and runs over it, body shivering under her robe at the taste. Sighing, eyes close briefly almost blissfully as she slides her tongue over her teeth. Moving towards the door, she slips the robe off her body, hanging it on a small hook by the door, turning and walking back over, tips of her long hair brushing her bare waist.
Crawling onto the table, she straddles him, nails moving over his chest, head tilting now and then, face as emotionless as before, oblivious to his cries of pain as each movement of her nails causes another line of blood to raise to the skin. Leaning down, she tastes more and more of the bright red blood till soon, her lips, cheeks and chin are covered by it. This goes on for awhile, the cutting and tasting, the boys eyes growing wider and wider with each passing moment. Finally, she sits fully up, eyes staring down into his for what for him would seem to be an eternity though for her, it would be mear seconds. Sighing she flashes a grin, teeth long in her mouth, eyes flashing with a bright red light as she speaks softly to him, echoing through the entire catacombs, making any imprisoned there shudder*
My sweet boy. My darling man-child. Your life will not have been taken in vain. Know that with your death you give me life and in my life so shall my family continue to live.....
*A pretty speech. To make herself or him feel better is hard to determine but it matters not. Seconds after she speaks, nails rake down over his chest and over his stomach slashing deep rivulets into his skin. Shredding it to ribbons, blood spirts forth and sprays her face, stomach and chest, covering her in its red warmth. Throwing her had back she lets out a soft moan before burying her head into the shredded skin, gnawing and slurping is all that could be heard for the next several hours.
When the three would come back at dawn, they’d find her on the table, curled into the remains of the body, her own dripping still with blood, both wet and clotting. They’d help her from the table, wrap her in her robe so as not to let too much drip onto the floors...and silly men...they worry about her catching a chill. Guiding her to her secret stairs she takes it from there, moving blindly back up and into her room. Dropping the robe from her body, she moves off to bathe, oblivious to the workings of the catacombs below......
And Below what happens? The three clean the womans mess. Cleaning and burying. It wasn’t often she came in such a manor, half out of her mind with need. At times they can draw it out, several nights, not needing to take care of the victims in such a manner. Generally they went on their way, dazed and tired, not remembering much about the woman from the night before other then long black hair and deep raven eyes set in stark, porcelain skin.
Murmuring to each other, they lift their head, worried about their mistress, upset that she’d come to something they hadn’t seen in so long. Perhaps it was the influx of new family members. Perhaps something had happened to let loose old wounds. But they were in agreement. If she didn’t set her soul in place soon, they were afraid she would never be able to....so are the murmurings going on below as she bathes four levels above in her second floor tub, ice cold water making her feel better....washing her monthly sin from her body and down the drain*
~Mistress, we found you a young one....will they do?~
*her eyes turn, body gliding gracefully and soundlessly to the table to look down upon the young man. Early twenties possibly. Blood red lips purse into a tight line, her eyes sliding over him. Fingers, nails elongated from their normal short length, move to slide chestnut brown hair off his shoulder, running along the side of his face. Fingers slap the side of his face sharply, causing his dark brown eyes to snap open. Paralyzed he is, tied down to the table in case, strap of cloth covering his mouth. Muffled noises come from behind the cloth and she ignores them, turning to stare at the three. Fingers steeple in front of her again, appraising them, considering. Nodding once she turns her back to them and they stumble from the room, shutting the door behind them.
Walking back to the table, she looks down upon the man, face cold as she runs another long nail over his shoulder and arm, the three having stripped him naked before her arrival. Her nail leaves a long, angry red cut along his skin, droplets of blood raising to the skin. Leaning down, her tongue slides out and runs over it, body shivering under her robe at the taste. Sighing, eyes close briefly almost blissfully as she slides her tongue over her teeth. Moving towards the door, she slips the robe off her body, hanging it on a small hook by the door, turning and walking back over, tips of her long hair brushing her bare waist.
Crawling onto the table, she straddles him, nails moving over his chest, head tilting now and then, face as emotionless as before, oblivious to his cries of pain as each movement of her nails causes another line of blood to raise to the skin. Leaning down, she tastes more and more of the bright red blood till soon, her lips, cheeks and chin are covered by it. This goes on for awhile, the cutting and tasting, the boys eyes growing wider and wider with each passing moment. Finally, she sits fully up, eyes staring down into his for what for him would seem to be an eternity though for her, it would be mear seconds. Sighing she flashes a grin, teeth long in her mouth, eyes flashing with a bright red light as she speaks softly to him, echoing through the entire catacombs, making any imprisoned there shudder*
My sweet boy. My darling man-child. Your life will not have been taken in vain. Know that with your death you give me life and in my life so shall my family continue to live.....
*A pretty speech. To make herself or him feel better is hard to determine but it matters not. Seconds after she speaks, nails rake down over his chest and over his stomach slashing deep rivulets into his skin. Shredding it to ribbons, blood spirts forth and sprays her face, stomach and chest, covering her in its red warmth. Throwing her had back she lets out a soft moan before burying her head into the shredded skin, gnawing and slurping is all that could be heard for the next several hours.
When the three would come back at dawn, they’d find her on the table, curled into the remains of the body, her own dripping still with blood, both wet and clotting. They’d help her from the table, wrap her in her robe so as not to let too much drip onto the floors...and silly men...they worry about her catching a chill. Guiding her to her secret stairs she takes it from there, moving blindly back up and into her room. Dropping the robe from her body, she moves off to bathe, oblivious to the workings of the catacombs below......
And Below what happens? The three clean the womans mess. Cleaning and burying. It wasn’t often she came in such a manor, half out of her mind with need. At times they can draw it out, several nights, not needing to take care of the victims in such a manner. Generally they went on their way, dazed and tired, not remembering much about the woman from the night before other then long black hair and deep raven eyes set in stark, porcelain skin.
Murmuring to each other, they lift their head, worried about their mistress, upset that she’d come to something they hadn’t seen in so long. Perhaps it was the influx of new family members. Perhaps something had happened to let loose old wounds. But they were in agreement. If she didn’t set her soul in place soon, they were afraid she would never be able to....so are the murmurings going on below as she bathes four levels above in her second floor tub, ice cold water making her feel better....washing her monthly sin from her body and down the drain*