Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Aug 25, 2009 3:41:08 GMT
To Eli there was nothing worse than having to indulge Katrina in her vampiric tendencies. It was bad enough -- bad wasn’t even a fitting word; awful, wretched, horrific, they were more applicable -- that he had had to live with the vampire as long as he had, too weak and cowed to change his situation, too obedient to do anything other than what his mistress told him, but having to drag others into his own little pocket of hell was what truly turned his stomach, summoned nausea up from the pit of his being and had it tumbling end over end in his gut, rising ever higher past his chest and into his throat, the taste of bile thick and so grimly familiar that he could swallow it back as though it were nothing so acrid or awful.
The young woman took pride of place on the grand dining table, the flickering candles casting eerie, perverse little shadows over her drugged form. What he could see of her eyes were little more than whites, her low whispers of groans almost deafening to his keen ears; he wanted to slap his hands over them, hug his head between his knees and curl into the corner. Shrink, be as small as you can be, hide. They were internal commands that he heard all but daily and obeyed often, as much as he could. For such a tall wolf, he could become so small, so tight in a little ball in the corner that he seemed like little more than a child. Bodily he might have matured to his peak, his physical prime, but mentally he had never really progressed, not as his kind should have. Somewhere along the line something had frayed and finally reaching breaking point. Something in Eli had snapped, something that he knew could never be repaired.
His hand froze as he reached out to shift the goblet just a fraction to the right, to try and align it perfectly with the curve of the plate above which it had been placed. Eli stared at the trembling fingers that betrayed the inner turmoil, the fear and disgust and the overwhelming desire to run and hide and never come out again. The hand balled into a fist, knuckles and bones creaking quietly from the force. He had to steady himself, had to be calm and composed. Katrina didn’t like it when he lost control.
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Post by Katrina on Aug 25, 2009 4:15:48 GMT
Katrina arrived, dressed in a long elegant gown of black lace. She slinked into the room, oozing elegance and an icy stare that found the girl in the middle of the table. She catalogued the rest of the table with a glance, and finding nothing out of place, she gave a girlish gasp. "Oh Eli! What a beautiful setup! But what have you done?"
She moved swiftly to the girl on the table, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Oh dear one, what has he done to you?" She removed the gag and slid her hands down the girls face, looking at her, concern absolutely flawlessly displayed in her eyes.
The poor thing whimpered, crying out to Katrina - "h..help me, he...he's a monster..."
"Oh now now... darling... he's just a puppy really.... he's nothing to be afraid of..." The girl was sobbing, holding on to Katrina - but these words registered and she leaned back a little...
"B..but... what?"
Katrina's eyes flashed and her teeth were out. "I'm much more worrying." And while comprehension made the blood drain from the poor girl's face... Katrina's teeth fastened on to her neck and bit savagely, ripping her throat out. Blood sprayed everywhere, dotting the white roses that adorned the table, showing scarlet on the white satin of the tablecloth. She climbed on to the table, feeding from the girl - blood covered her face while she drank the redness, coppery smells filling the room.
She looked up at Eli, letting the girl fall to the floor. The body hit with a dull thud, and she gathered herself, settling gracefully into her chair, and making no move to wipe her face. "Fetch that package, Eli." He'd have to get it from beneath a pool of gore.. and she planned to watch that - her green eyes snapped, her lips pink and lush after her feeding...
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Aug 25, 2009 4:49:48 GMT
Katrina’s arrival leading so ominously, so eerily into that savage feeding filled Eli with icy, heavy dread, so heavy that it pressed down inside of him, all the way from his chest to his gut and anchored him to the spot. He couldn’t move, couldn’t walk away from the pristine table as Katrina launched her attack on the poor girl she had forced him to track down and corner. She had cried and begged, of course, but Eli hadn’t let himself hear those things, had shut them out as best he could as he drugged her, thankful that he had been permitted to use narcotics instead of his feral strength and brutality. Katrina had wanted her whole. Whole so she could be the one to tear her victim into small, gory chunks that were so easily scattered over the table and onto the floor below, slippery and wet and coppery.
Bile swarmed Eli’s throat again as Katrina fed and though his feet were rooted to the spot he could at least close his eyes, squeeze them shut like a child trying to hide from the shadows in his bedroom in the dark, his arms lifting abruptly of their own accord to hug around his head. If he didn’t see it, if he didn’t hear it, maybe it wouldn’t be real after all. Unfortunately, even with the self-enforced blindness and deafness, he could still smell, and acutely at that. His wolf’s nose could pick out the blood and the gore and everything else vile and sickening.
His body was trembling when it was done, when everything ended in that wet thud as the body struck the floor. There were pieces of her everywhere, blood and flesh, hair torn from her scalp. An ear. Eli felt the colour drain from his face. Even at his age, with everything he had seen, the things Katrina did so nonchalantly and naturally could still turn his world upside down and tear away all his composure and control. When Katrina spoke, her words barely pierced through the white noise that had risen up in his shock. All he could do was stand there, frozen in dismay at what had just transpired.
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Post by Katrina on Aug 25, 2009 12:44:39 GMT
Katrina's eyes narrowed. Eli's frame remaining still was not what what supposed to happen. She was sated with the blood -- it didn't seem worth getting upset over for the moment, so she simply snapped her fingers once. The sound had simple meaning with her.
A single snap over the years had meant one thing and one thing only.
Follow the order. Or there will be hell to pay.
She watched.
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Aug 26, 2009 22:51:43 GMT
That snap of Katrina’s fingers started Eli -- literally -- out of his nauseated stupor and though the colour was still sorely lacking from his face he got into motion, the taste of bile remaining in the back of his throat as he approached the table. Katrina wouldn’t hold onto that rare patience of hers for long and by now Eli knew better than to push his luck. Fast reaching his limit, even for someone who had lived with the vicious vampire for decades, Eli reached the scattered remains on the tabletop and regarded them with a poorly-concealed grimace on his face.
Package. She had said there was a package. Trying hard to breathe through his mouth and not through his nose, Eli finally caught sight of said package under, of all things, the dismembered ear. His features paled even further and he had to swallow before reaching out gingerly and first nudging the corner before managing to lift it from amidst the blood and gore. Trying hard not to make it obvious that he was holding it at arm’s length, he backed away from the remains, torn between keeping his eyes on the sticky, stained prize and turning them towards Katrina for further instruction.
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Post by Katrina on Aug 27, 2009 23:08:57 GMT
Katrina picked up a clean napkin and gently wiped her face, the blood staining the satiny fabric in shocking red. She watched Eli back away from the carnage and rolled her eyes. "Somewhere in your training, my pup, we missed making you less squeamish."
She waved a hand. "Open it, you stupid animal. Before I change my mind."
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Aug 28, 2009 0:16:17 GMT
It was ridiculous really, that Eli was as unsettled and sickened as he was. In all his years as Katrina’s guard dog of sorts, he had seen all manner of horrors; he had seen the vampire slaughter countless victims in a myriad of vicious, sadistic, gruesome ways. Sometimes she left a mess in her wake, at others she didn’t. It all depended on her mood. The fact that it still turned Eli’s stomach even after so many years of bearing witness to those atrocities said something about him, he was sure. As for what that something was, exactly, Eli didn’t know.
The blood on the package had run down to his hand and the warm liquid was smearing over his fingers and starting to trickle down his skin. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation at all, and oddly, Eli didn’t even react to it. How was it that he could be such a walking contradiction? Katrina’s voice cut those wonderings short and after starting momentarily he did as he was told, afraid that her patience would vanish and whatever was inside would be taken away again. That was, of course, jumping to conclusions. Katrina hadn’t out and said that the contents of the package were for him, after all.
Inside the stained packaging were two books elegantly bound in leather, such a stark contrast in quality to what Eli was used to that he blinked in surprise at the sight of them. There was something about them that he didn’t quite trust yet, as though that rich quality hid a sinister drawback of some sort.
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Post by Katrina on Sept 4, 2009 8:37:18 GMT
Katrina stood and walked over to Eli, her movements smooth and predatory. She looked at the blood staining his right hand and wound her fingers around his, lifting the arm to her face, closing her eyes to smell the blood on his skin. "Such a perfume from a frightened girl... " Her voice was black silk, and her tongue snaked out to clean his flesh. Her eyes flickered with sadistic pleasure - she could see the goosebumps on his flesh as he recoiled, but she got every drop, her eyes boring into his face, and the corners of her mouth in a smile.
"There now - clean - you can touch the books with both hands now..." She took one from him and held it in her hands, sighing deeply. "That one is the story of a man wrongly accused.. imprisoned - and his revenge.... his vengence that drives him." She shrugged. "It is in my beloved France... when the time was that women and men knew what they were." She carressed the novel in her hands..."And this one... this was written by a man that knew of pleasure - and of pain. This copy he gave to me especially after we had a night together." Her eyes flashed. "I learned from him. So I did not kill him."
Turning to a particular passage, she began to read. The salacious phrases, the graphic and pornographic nature of it rolled from her tongue, and she pointedly read aloud some of the worst sections, knowing that it would embarrass Eli to no end - to humilate him - and that... well, that was Katrina's favorite evening activity after a good meal.
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Sept 4, 2009 14:50:32 GMT
There was nothing Eli could do as Katrina cleaned his hand the way she did, unstoppable disgust rolling through him and sweeping over his face in a grimace; not only disgust, but fear. Eli knew all too well that she could break his fingers with one precise, well-timed squeeze if she so wanted to, and he didn’t doubt that she would if he struggled, tried to pull his hand away. It was one of the many harshly learned lessons from his time with her, and one he knew better than to ignore.
His hands were shaking as they gripped the book she left in his hold, and she listened to him and understood quickly why she had given him the novels, just what purpose they served. They were a taunt, a cruel kind of joke, the kind she loved to play on him. He was a werewolf, yes, and as a general rule they didn’t respond well to such jokes and taunts, but he had been ‘trained’ to ignore his urges to rebel against such demeaning little attacks. Even when Katrina read from the book, words that Eli knew he didn’t want to be hearing, ones he wouldn’t be able to read for himself, all he could do was close his eyes and try to think of something else. Anything else.
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Post by Katrina on Oct 3, 2009 23:58:02 GMT
She watched him try to detach. Inwardly, it made her angry. She knew she'd broken him - that snowy Christmas morning, he'd been broken. She remembered it well. His face twitched - he continued to try, but her anger began to warm away as she saw the face find no peace. No solace.
She stopped reading, closing the book with a sudden snap. Knowing he would never read that book, but knowing that it represented books to him still.. that it was all she needed. The symbol. With one graceful movement, she turned and slung the beautifully bound and gilt book straight into the roaring fire. It flared, the delicate pages browning and crisping rapidly.
"Eli. How dreadful of you to force me to that. You'd best fetch it - quickly." She picked up the fireplace poker and tongs and held them in her hands. The implication was sound.
With your bare hands.
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Oct 7, 2009 13:48:38 GMT
Eli couldn't remember that Christmas morning. In fact, he no longer remembered the dates of any such holidays, whether they be personal or global. All he knew was one day and then the next, and of course, the days of the week and more importantly, when it would get dark and light each day, respectively. Eli did know just as well as Katrina did, however, that he was broken and had been for many years. Why a part of him still tried to fight after all those years, he simply couldn't understand. If he could understand it, he would stop it, save himself extra, unnecessary pain.
That snap of the book closing harshly in Katrina's hands startled him and his body jerked tightly in response, eyes closing as if the sound pre-empted a physical blow. He opened them just in time to see Katrina throw the book into the fire, his eyes darting to her face, wide and worried, part of him knowing what was coming but still a deep cringe washed over his face as the implication hung between them. Eli knew Katrina well, her habits and preferences. He knew what she wanted him to do.
So he did it. There was nothing else he could do but approach the fire, fighting against every natural instinct inside as one after another they raged, telling him to get back and away from the fire, fire hurt, he should avoid pain. Even with those instinctual messages whirring madly through his brain he thrust his hand into the fire, choking back a cry of pain as the flames licked against his bare flesh and grabbed the book, pulling it out again and still keeping his voice quiet, the only signs of any suffering his ragged, jerky breathing and the very obvious light in his eyes.
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Post by Katrina on Feb 12, 2010 0:58:32 GMT
She watched impassively - her eyes reflecting in the firelight. She let him retrieve the book and stand there for a while, holding the smoking book. Her hunger for blood sated for now, she stared at the flames. She allowed her mind to clear entirely - went to that place in her mind that was silence. It had been there her whole life... Katrina had never known when she could not go there and be free to allow flames to dance in her vision, while her mind allowed it to roll through her being. There was something so amazing about fire - the light it gave, the constant shadows flickering everywhere. The darkness was never gone. Fire left darkness behind in it's smokey residue, and its warmth could kill as easily as it gave life.
Katrina fancied herself a lady of fire. She reluctantly returned to the present, looking at Eli's skin, blistered, but already pink slightly as it began to heal. The gift that kept on giving. Delightful.
Frowning at the bloody mess of the girl, she turned on her heel and sat at the end of the table. She sipped her wine, letting the thick liquid coat her tongue. Not as rich as blood, but it would do. "Put away your books now, and come back immediately. You must clean up, Eli. Clean the blood up with your tongue. I'll tell you when you're finished. Then you'll dispose of the corpse."
She swirled the wine in the glass and watched the fire again. Her orders were given. That's all that was necessary.
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on May 18, 2010 18:29:16 GMT
All Eli could do as the flesh healed, regenerating even after such nasty surface burns, was stand there and breathe through it. He had learned some time ago that whimpering when in pain got him nowhere, it only drew unpleasant attention his way, and he didn't want that. So he kept quiet save for the sound of his breathing, remained still save for the slightest shudder as the pain passed and the damage repaired itself at its own pace, and listened when Katrina spoke to him.
His eyes lifted to hers as soon as the orders were given, his stomach rolling and his heart dropping right down into the bottom of his gut. Such was Katrina's power, her cruelty, that she could still horrify and shock Eli after so long, after so many years. She still had it in her to pull the rug out from beneath his feet and leave him with nothing to stand on. Perhaps his stomach should have been stronger by now, perhaps he should have been used to the things she made him do, but even with everything she'd put him through he was still vulnerable to the way her mind worked. She could still horrify him with her demands.
"I--" His throat closed up and in that moment it was like a high-pitched tone screamed through his skull, an alarm of sorts.
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Post by Katrina on Jun 3, 2010 0:19:30 GMT
She watched as his mind began to crumble - as his eyes saw nothing. His body merely standing because that was its default position - that's where the muscles were, and there they would stay until his brain came back from whereever it had run away to. It was an expression she was familiar with. Rarely did she push Eli that far - he was so docile - so willing. Her lip curled in a derisive sneer. He'd become harder to push to that point, but once it got there, he was hard to bring back.
Damnit. Boredom was threatening. There had been nothing new in her life for so long. She could have what she wanted, the money was no object. Her powers of persuasion and her ability to make people and issues disappear had served her for centuries. But it was not interesting anymore. And the murmerings from her contacts in the underworld left her in despair of taking out the wretched dogs by herself. There was nothing for her.
Perhaps it was time she left for a while. She regarded Eli quietly. She would not take him with her. But... if she didn't have him... no one should.
She watched as his body trembled. She watched... and thought.
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Eli
Rogue Werewolf
Vampire Slave
I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears.
Posts: 122
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Post by Eli on Jun 5, 2010 0:20:52 GMT
A long time ago Eli had tried to create a kind of refuge in his mind, somewhere to escape to when things with Katrina, whether they were words or actions, simply because too harsh and brutal, but he had been too young, too inexperienced and alone to achieve it, to bring that sanctuary to life in any kind of helpful or vivid fashion. Eli's attempts had failed and he'd been left with the reality of those situations, the fact that he had nowhere to run, no one to turn to, that it was just him against Katrina's strength and malice and really there was no contest. By the time he'd come into the power and ferocity of his wolf, Katrina had already worn him down, broken what will and resolve he'd had, and ultimately Eli had never had a chance to use that strength and savagery against her. He had lost the battle before it could even truly begin.
Still, that didn't stop him -- or more to the point, his mind -- from trying to find that elusive sanctuary when everything became so tough and terrifying as it was in that moment, standing there with the books in his healing hands, eyes closing tightly like a child trying so hard to call something to mind under the watchful, impatient eyes of a stern authority figure.
Katrina's silence perhaps should have troubled him, but instead it just confused him, and he opened his eyes again, looking at her face, trying to understand what was happening in that moment, not only what to do with himself but how to deal with her quiet and the contemplative glimmer in her gaze.
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