CZDoubleU
Dark Sadistic Killer
Before you ask, this is work of my own design and I am kinda just testing it out really..... i am a little nervous but... phew don't be harsh on me, I intend to post a chapter a week so look out for it if you like it and if you do just let me know.... if its the worst shit in the world cool, just be honest and be gentle please I crush easily....
It was really too bad my father didn’t have the balls to do it himself. Kill her I mean. My aunt. He had it all planned out though, so I guess that was why he didn’t do it himself. He had a knack for planning things like these. Some people are good at writing he was good at planning war. He mine as well have been given his line of work. Sadly however I did the only sane thing I knew how to at that point and took the blade and I became my father that day. I killed both of them, the lackies he sent in his place. A tragedy in of itself. It was not easy. They had been just turned and those ones are really strong. The thirst for blood got them riving.
I’m going to cut straight to the chase and not bother with any of the bullshit. My species of creature known to your kind as a vampire is actually called a Noc, full name Noctiuagus. We thrive at night. Thrive being the keyword here. We do not burn in the sunlight and the majority of us do not eat so garlic is totally out of the question. Though blood-banks are cool we are not often found here and most of the time if you ever actually met us you would not ever remember it.
We hold ourselves in this society as famous people. It strangely enough offers us the most pricey. Our business exploited in magazines all over the globe but only what our campaign managers allow to leak actually leaks. We do whatever they coach us to do. Most of the time these people that manage us are humans Sired to do so. It makes it much easier to do business and keeps us right where we want. We are good at it. One of the many abilities we have.
Our abilities are typically the subject of our imagination. As such, we think it, it happens. Some people are less open about it and that’s where our abilities get sidelined and subjected. Most Noctiuagus pick breeding partners specifically for powers whereas other mate for love and they have a tendency to mate for life. That is where we get into the fact that most of us are born, yes that’s right we fucknuts can have children. Well most of us. Half Bloods, the ones usually stupid enough to get caught and studied can’t. They die in the way of giving up their last force to keep their child alive. The mother typically bites the child allowing it to suck the last of her life force away effectively ending her reign. The only exception to this rule is if a pureblood were to begrudgingly mate with a human effectively ending both the human and whatever spawn that was being created.
We end up putting ourselves on a pyramid. Similar to most human governments. On the top and ruling our nation we have Blue Bloods. We can only be born not made, our powers are pretty limitless because we are raised to believe we will always be on top- most of us. Pure Bloods rule below us. They are how shall I say it, the twelve lower seats. They are usually the products of Blue Bloods who mate with Pure Bloods. Their powers are usually subjected to the elements though depending on which line you come from you can also have minor mind manipulation and a bunch of other cool perks. Below them you have the Half Bloods. Aristocrats really and totally not as cool as Pure Bloods but I bare no ill will to them. They are the coolest. They can eat human food and enjoy human companionship better than most of us. Then you have Quarter Bloods. They hang down there at the bottom. They can only be made not born and most of all anyone of us can become one, but, only if decreed by the council.
Our weaknesses aren’t wooden pointed stakes, churches or holy water. Actually some of our kind are priests for some reason. Sunlight is a bother but we do not burn in the conventional sense but some of us have actually burned. The wounds typically heal in a day and it’s not a weakness. I guess it has something to do with actually knowing the person who the humans worship as god. Our breed of personalised killing goes to the diamond. A fatal shot or stab from one of these puppies and it’s lights out forever for the Noctiuagus. There are some people who tried to mine the diamonds and make weapons out of them. It frightened us and most of us almost died. So naturally we did what any species would do.
We capitalised on the one thing in this world strong enough to cut our souls. My father’s father bought most of the diamond mines. At the time it was a lot in Africa and Southeast Asia. As time went on he purchased more. Selling them at high dollars and profiting on those inflated sales. This made us very popular and created many more enemies. In turn those enemies we received rallied against us and that was when my grandfather decided to ban together and so. Around year 1600’s, he made the council. They were burnished with the name “the five founding families” and in reality one of each of the families must represent their house. The houses change as the seasons do. But today we have the Mathis, Collins, Watters, and Rowlands. Of course we also can steal members from Kyrghiz, Lexington and a few others. Since the fire that burned the school and effectively killed off most of our remaining representatives leaving the rest to become quarter bloods or worse. We have little council left.
This realisation is the only thing keeping me grounded. It brings me to the office of such Mary Kyrghiz. She is the last of her line and if she doesn’t decide to take plate we might lose our council all together. This won’t play out well with the governments of the world and so I must be tasked with finding people to replace those that have fallen. Mary is one of three people I have to find. I personally don’t understand what it is about being famous or well-off, or what this has to do with the council. Maybe this is because I come from a line of wealth but was raised in deep poverty thanks to my father.
He was a vile man. From murdering my mother right in front of me when I was four. A memory still imprinted in my brain. Every time it rains I am brought back to this moment. All the way to kidnapping me and locking me away from the time I was four until just very recently when I organised an escape with my aunt that now lie dead.
I take a deep breath outside her German office building. So plain looking. Everything outside is covered in white. The people covered in fascist colours and squished like a Nickelodeon logo. In this reality anything is possible. So, as I walk in wearing a pair of blue jeans pants with a matching pair of black heels, a long white coat spluttered in blue snowflakes. I walk into the elevator and push floor 67. I stand next to three other people in the tiny box and two people behind me. It pains me but I feel like pushing the stop button on this elevator and turning dramatically to the group of newly frightened souls and asking them.
“You probably wonder why I have gathered you here today,” it would make for a pretty good laugh on my part, but, I simply kill them all. All before reaching floor 63.
I step off floor 67. Sending the cart back down to floor 60, there a group of people will clean my mess up. They were not easily killed and I wish I could have taken my time but these days with gun laws being as strangely lax as liquor laws. Well, let’s just say that though getting shot with anything bullet, be wooden or not, still fucking hurts. I wipe my mouth. Well. They were human and I had to kill them, might as well get a meal out of it too. Walking across the floor my heels click in rhythm. I step into the office of Mary and step up to the counter.
“I have an appointment at two,” I say in German because we so happen to be in Berlin.
“Yes. You may have a seat. I’ll let Mary know you are here,” smiles the blonde behind the counter. I swivel round and sit along the lining wall of windows and pick up a magazine. It’s snowing outside and the fancy windows showcase it against a blank grey covered fake garden for the viewing pleasure of all parties. It’s the best they can do this time of year.
The office is a dull wash of blue, grey and green. Never have I hated the colour green as much as now looking at it against the other colours. It looks like better homes and gardens threw up in here. I don’t have to wait here long. I am called within moments of entering and sitting.
“You have to be cleaner,” says the woman approaching me. She catches the one red dot along my coat and takes me outside just before removing it. “I managed to assassinate five people in an elevator, draining three of them of their blood by floor 60 that’s a second. I killed five people in one minute and you jump my fucking bones for one tiny red dot on my coat.”
“Yes. Because that’s my favourite coat on you.” Flattering won’t work on me. I turn. The woman before me sadly looks just like me yet I can’t figure out where I’ve seen her before. She has long dark hair like mine. Except hers lays straight down her back. It’s cut into a fine line mid-way down her back and mine is long wavy and cascades down past my pants line. I have red running through my hair. Not by choice but I digress. It matches my large wolf wars which up until this point I kept hidden. My long coat did most of the hiding of their matching tail and it hid my wings well. I stand now in a loose grey shirt everything showing.
“I am assuming you are here for this?” The woman slips over a Manila folder. Aw yes. My medical records. Famously the vet had them. “Of course why didn’t I think of that one?” I mumble and take the folder but her finger which turns dark black stops me. Strength becomes us as a species. We are capable of lifting up to ten times our own body weight and can prevent others from doing the same if we want to. Mary’s powers prevent me from using mine for short periods of time. Luckily for her I wasn’t resided like her so she has nothing to suppress and is just wasting time and energy. Maybe that’s lucky for me. I take the folder slipping it into the back of my pants and grab for my coat as the girl with blue hair brings it back to me.
“Coyoty,” said the woman stopping me. I turn. The wind up this high starts pulling at my hair which I have pulled halfway back. It sends the woman’s scent flying at me. I drink in her familiar scent. Each one of us has a signature scent. We can tell each other apart by this scent and hers is unmistakably familiar to me. She stepped forward and wraps her arms around me tenderly.
Her fingers interlaced through my hair. I can feel her warmth even if it’s not the same conventional warmth you receive from a human embrace. I want to stay here then suddenly my eyes open wide but she holds me close. I can feel her thoughts pushing into my brain.
“You think the war is over,” visions now of her passing files over to a woman. I catch my breath. “She’s been profiling you for weeks.” I can see her now blurry at first and then coming into view my body tenses and I can feel Mary’s mimic mine. I have to remind myself to breathe as I see this conversation taking place.
They are in her office, or what was her office before they burned it down. I can see every detail as if I was the one there. The grain of wood lining the windows, the fabric of the ugliest green couch that ever did grace this planet and most of all the woman whose facial features mimics that of an anorexic female than one of good health. The pain from these visions has long since eluded me but I can feel the pain from the sender. Still I push on. Mary is extending her arm passing over a file and then she turns her eyes laying upon a beautiful deep midnight panther. His fur glistened in the soft light reflecting that of a rainbow instead of a normal bluish hue. Creatures that are Sired to another have this look to them. A Noctiuagus can sire any creature such as long as it wants to be Sired. This creature will become immortal in a sense that conventional means cannot kill it. If the Noctiuagus who Sired them, however is killed it’s lights out for the creature. No matter what.
“I asked you to bring me the trials on her blood samples,” said the woman whom I have grown to despise. This woman, despite her appearance which as of today was fair haired, tied in a ponytail, thin scraggly features that look as if she’s skipped one too many meals yet she appears trimmed and fit. She has violet eyes of all colours today they reflect a dark magenta colour and her normally gloved fingers wrap around the file as she turns it and opens it.
“And they are,” somewhere in the deep of my conscious I feel Mary’s response.
I want to see this file, I want to read it and find out what secrets lie inside. If only this memory-share worked in the way of jumping from one's perspective to another.
“How did her blood react to the samples?” I suddenly feel a jolt and before I can get a response the bomb exploded not too far away and I see that Lori is up on her feet, the panther is too.
I am jolted into reality again to which I blink quickly and Mary slips me a vile of her blood. It is dark almost black in colour and thick. I realise that she wants me to finish this memory. On my own time. “That is all I can show you,” she whispers gently against my ear as she holds me. The bitter winter wind cutting into our skin.
“I want you to take this…. too,” she said, pulling away and nods her head. The blue haired girl passes me a pretty barricaded carrier. I am skeptical but I go along. Whatever it is it couldn’t be as bad as my father’s one of millions of mutated pets. If Mary wants me to have it, it must be important.
“Thanks,” I say, in English. “You should also think of joining the council, we could use you.” I take my new cargo and my coat slipping it on and am out of the office shortly before 2:30pm.
First Blood: WAR Pt1 of (to be determined)
There is something you have to know about a tragedy. After watching something so traumatic, After spending days trying to put pieces of a circular puzzle back together you have to realise something. War. It changes you. You think it will be awesome and in the words of one of my most favourite authors, “they all are excited. Rushing into war but in reality they are rushing into me.” That “me” referenced is death and, as begrudgingly as I have to say so, everyone has to die somehow. It seemed fitting that the last death of this war, I witnessed first hand and it was executed by a twelve centimetre long blade being plunged into to her heart. I cannot tell you the pain of watching someone you love die. I cannot give advice about how to move on because I have yet to do it myself. One thing I can tell you,It was really too bad my father didn’t have the balls to do it himself. Kill her I mean. My aunt. He had it all planned out though, so I guess that was why he didn’t do it himself. He had a knack for planning things like these. Some people are good at writing he was good at planning war. He mine as well have been given his line of work. Sadly however I did the only sane thing I knew how to at that point and took the blade and I became my father that day. I killed both of them, the lackies he sent in his place. A tragedy in of itself. It was not easy. They had been just turned and those ones are really strong. The thirst for blood got them riving.
I’m going to cut straight to the chase and not bother with any of the bullshit. My species of creature known to your kind as a vampire is actually called a Noc, full name Noctiuagus. We thrive at night. Thrive being the keyword here. We do not burn in the sunlight and the majority of us do not eat so garlic is totally out of the question. Though blood-banks are cool we are not often found here and most of the time if you ever actually met us you would not ever remember it.
We hold ourselves in this society as famous people. It strangely enough offers us the most pricey. Our business exploited in magazines all over the globe but only what our campaign managers allow to leak actually leaks. We do whatever they coach us to do. Most of the time these people that manage us are humans Sired to do so. It makes it much easier to do business and keeps us right where we want. We are good at it. One of the many abilities we have.
Our abilities are typically the subject of our imagination. As such, we think it, it happens. Some people are less open about it and that’s where our abilities get sidelined and subjected. Most Noctiuagus pick breeding partners specifically for powers whereas other mate for love and they have a tendency to mate for life. That is where we get into the fact that most of us are born, yes that’s right we fucknuts can have children. Well most of us. Half Bloods, the ones usually stupid enough to get caught and studied can’t. They die in the way of giving up their last force to keep their child alive. The mother typically bites the child allowing it to suck the last of her life force away effectively ending her reign. The only exception to this rule is if a pureblood were to begrudgingly mate with a human effectively ending both the human and whatever spawn that was being created.
We end up putting ourselves on a pyramid. Similar to most human governments. On the top and ruling our nation we have Blue Bloods. We can only be born not made, our powers are pretty limitless because we are raised to believe we will always be on top- most of us. Pure Bloods rule below us. They are how shall I say it, the twelve lower seats. They are usually the products of Blue Bloods who mate with Pure Bloods. Their powers are usually subjected to the elements though depending on which line you come from you can also have minor mind manipulation and a bunch of other cool perks. Below them you have the Half Bloods. Aristocrats really and totally not as cool as Pure Bloods but I bare no ill will to them. They are the coolest. They can eat human food and enjoy human companionship better than most of us. Then you have Quarter Bloods. They hang down there at the bottom. They can only be made not born and most of all anyone of us can become one, but, only if decreed by the council.
Our weaknesses aren’t wooden pointed stakes, churches or holy water. Actually some of our kind are priests for some reason. Sunlight is a bother but we do not burn in the conventional sense but some of us have actually burned. The wounds typically heal in a day and it’s not a weakness. I guess it has something to do with actually knowing the person who the humans worship as god. Our breed of personalised killing goes to the diamond. A fatal shot or stab from one of these puppies and it’s lights out forever for the Noctiuagus. There are some people who tried to mine the diamonds and make weapons out of them. It frightened us and most of us almost died. So naturally we did what any species would do.
We capitalised on the one thing in this world strong enough to cut our souls. My father’s father bought most of the diamond mines. At the time it was a lot in Africa and Southeast Asia. As time went on he purchased more. Selling them at high dollars and profiting on those inflated sales. This made us very popular and created many more enemies. In turn those enemies we received rallied against us and that was when my grandfather decided to ban together and so. Around year 1600’s, he made the council. They were burnished with the name “the five founding families” and in reality one of each of the families must represent their house. The houses change as the seasons do. But today we have the Mathis, Collins, Watters, and Rowlands. Of course we also can steal members from Kyrghiz, Lexington and a few others. Since the fire that burned the school and effectively killed off most of our remaining representatives leaving the rest to become quarter bloods or worse. We have little council left.
This realisation is the only thing keeping me grounded. It brings me to the office of such Mary Kyrghiz. She is the last of her line and if she doesn’t decide to take plate we might lose our council all together. This won’t play out well with the governments of the world and so I must be tasked with finding people to replace those that have fallen. Mary is one of three people I have to find. I personally don’t understand what it is about being famous or well-off, or what this has to do with the council. Maybe this is because I come from a line of wealth but was raised in deep poverty thanks to my father.
He was a vile man. From murdering my mother right in front of me when I was four. A memory still imprinted in my brain. Every time it rains I am brought back to this moment. All the way to kidnapping me and locking me away from the time I was four until just very recently when I organised an escape with my aunt that now lie dead.
I take a deep breath outside her German office building. So plain looking. Everything outside is covered in white. The people covered in fascist colours and squished like a Nickelodeon logo. In this reality anything is possible. So, as I walk in wearing a pair of blue jeans pants with a matching pair of black heels, a long white coat spluttered in blue snowflakes. I walk into the elevator and push floor 67. I stand next to three other people in the tiny box and two people behind me. It pains me but I feel like pushing the stop button on this elevator and turning dramatically to the group of newly frightened souls and asking them.
“You probably wonder why I have gathered you here today,” it would make for a pretty good laugh on my part, but, I simply kill them all. All before reaching floor 63.
I step off floor 67. Sending the cart back down to floor 60, there a group of people will clean my mess up. They were not easily killed and I wish I could have taken my time but these days with gun laws being as strangely lax as liquor laws. Well, let’s just say that though getting shot with anything bullet, be wooden or not, still fucking hurts. I wipe my mouth. Well. They were human and I had to kill them, might as well get a meal out of it too. Walking across the floor my heels click in rhythm. I step into the office of Mary and step up to the counter.
“I have an appointment at two,” I say in German because we so happen to be in Berlin.
“Yes. You may have a seat. I’ll let Mary know you are here,” smiles the blonde behind the counter. I swivel round and sit along the lining wall of windows and pick up a magazine. It’s snowing outside and the fancy windows showcase it against a blank grey covered fake garden for the viewing pleasure of all parties. It’s the best they can do this time of year.
The office is a dull wash of blue, grey and green. Never have I hated the colour green as much as now looking at it against the other colours. It looks like better homes and gardens threw up in here. I don’t have to wait here long. I am called within moments of entering and sitting.
“You have to be cleaner,” says the woman approaching me. She catches the one red dot along my coat and takes me outside just before removing it. “I managed to assassinate five people in an elevator, draining three of them of their blood by floor 60 that’s a second. I killed five people in one minute and you jump my fucking bones for one tiny red dot on my coat.”
“Yes. Because that’s my favourite coat on you.” Flattering won’t work on me. I turn. The woman before me sadly looks just like me yet I can’t figure out where I’ve seen her before. She has long dark hair like mine. Except hers lays straight down her back. It’s cut into a fine line mid-way down her back and mine is long wavy and cascades down past my pants line. I have red running through my hair. Not by choice but I digress. It matches my large wolf wars which up until this point I kept hidden. My long coat did most of the hiding of their matching tail and it hid my wings well. I stand now in a loose grey shirt everything showing.
“I am assuming you are here for this?” The woman slips over a Manila folder. Aw yes. My medical records. Famously the vet had them. “Of course why didn’t I think of that one?” I mumble and take the folder but her finger which turns dark black stops me. Strength becomes us as a species. We are capable of lifting up to ten times our own body weight and can prevent others from doing the same if we want to. Mary’s powers prevent me from using mine for short periods of time. Luckily for her I wasn’t resided like her so she has nothing to suppress and is just wasting time and energy. Maybe that’s lucky for me. I take the folder slipping it into the back of my pants and grab for my coat as the girl with blue hair brings it back to me.
“Coyoty,” said the woman stopping me. I turn. The wind up this high starts pulling at my hair which I have pulled halfway back. It sends the woman’s scent flying at me. I drink in her familiar scent. Each one of us has a signature scent. We can tell each other apart by this scent and hers is unmistakably familiar to me. She stepped forward and wraps her arms around me tenderly.
Her fingers interlaced through my hair. I can feel her warmth even if it’s not the same conventional warmth you receive from a human embrace. I want to stay here then suddenly my eyes open wide but she holds me close. I can feel her thoughts pushing into my brain.
“You think the war is over,” visions now of her passing files over to a woman. I catch my breath. “She’s been profiling you for weeks.” I can see her now blurry at first and then coming into view my body tenses and I can feel Mary’s mimic mine. I have to remind myself to breathe as I see this conversation taking place.
They are in her office, or what was her office before they burned it down. I can see every detail as if I was the one there. The grain of wood lining the windows, the fabric of the ugliest green couch that ever did grace this planet and most of all the woman whose facial features mimics that of an anorexic female than one of good health. The pain from these visions has long since eluded me but I can feel the pain from the sender. Still I push on. Mary is extending her arm passing over a file and then she turns her eyes laying upon a beautiful deep midnight panther. His fur glistened in the soft light reflecting that of a rainbow instead of a normal bluish hue. Creatures that are Sired to another have this look to them. A Noctiuagus can sire any creature such as long as it wants to be Sired. This creature will become immortal in a sense that conventional means cannot kill it. If the Noctiuagus who Sired them, however is killed it’s lights out for the creature. No matter what.
“I asked you to bring me the trials on her blood samples,” said the woman whom I have grown to despise. This woman, despite her appearance which as of today was fair haired, tied in a ponytail, thin scraggly features that look as if she’s skipped one too many meals yet she appears trimmed and fit. She has violet eyes of all colours today they reflect a dark magenta colour and her normally gloved fingers wrap around the file as she turns it and opens it.
“And they are,” somewhere in the deep of my conscious I feel Mary’s response.
I want to see this file, I want to read it and find out what secrets lie inside. If only this memory-share worked in the way of jumping from one's perspective to another.
“How did her blood react to the samples?” I suddenly feel a jolt and before I can get a response the bomb exploded not too far away and I see that Lori is up on her feet, the panther is too.
I am jolted into reality again to which I blink quickly and Mary slips me a vile of her blood. It is dark almost black in colour and thick. I realise that she wants me to finish this memory. On my own time. “That is all I can show you,” she whispers gently against my ear as she holds me. The bitter winter wind cutting into our skin.
“I want you to take this…. too,” she said, pulling away and nods her head. The blue haired girl passes me a pretty barricaded carrier. I am skeptical but I go along. Whatever it is it couldn’t be as bad as my father’s one of millions of mutated pets. If Mary wants me to have it, it must be important.
“Thanks,” I say, in English. “You should also think of joining the council, we could use you.” I take my new cargo and my coat slipping it on and am out of the office shortly before 2:30pm.
