Hawkins Bellator
TW: Blood, gore, torture, sexual assault/rape.
Sunset gilded his golden eyes until they nearly blazed, set his brown locks to rust, and tried to warm his cold tawny skin. Shadows coiled protectively around him, guarding him from the worst of the sun’s power. He sat statuesque before the window, watching the golden star dip slowly below the horizon, counting down to the exact second he would no longer be able to tolerate the light’s touch. But he couldn’t miss it. Never once was there a sunset he missed. He ached for its warmth that never seemed to quite reach him. Her touch had turned cruel, threatening to burn him to ash. It was what he deserved, he supposed. As the sunlight faded, he looked down into the streets, watching the city lights flicker on one by one. A warning for the creatures that come. Despite the nature of this place, there were still many mortal souls risking the trek into nightfall. Many had quickened their pace, seeking the safety of their homes. Soon he would be among them, doing what little good he could do with this cursed life to protect them.
A soft rustle at his door had his gaze snapping behind him, a hand at his hip for the dark blade. But the door remained solidly locked, all that was amiss was a scarlet envelope resting on the floor. Slowly he moved to his feet, his gaze traveling the room, his senses cast out beyond into the hall. He could sense no one though, catching the faded scent of one of his own kind. Hawk moved to pick it up, finding the intricate wax seal of the Red Queen pressed neatly into the paper. If he was mortal he would have flinched, held his breath maybe… but in death there was only the slight quirk of a brow. He opened it quickly, reading over the invitation with growing dread. Tossing the letter into the embers of the fireplace, he changed quickly, armed himself and stormed out with vampiric speed towards Anderstel.
The full moon bathed the snowy fields in a silver glow. Cabins had been adorned with the banner of the Red Queen, their windows still lit with lamplight long after most of the humans would have turned to their beds.The further he moved into the farmlands, the more signs he saw of the carnage to take place. It did not take him long to find the ornate crimson tent erected in the center of one of the larger homesteads. It hid the starting of a hedge maze, quickly erected for the event. Torches beckoned at each entrance. He’d thought himself early, but in the growing dark, he could sense the horrors had already begun. In the night air he could hear far off screams, the scent of blood already thick in the air, the carnal cries of mortals and immortals alike.
He paused, watching as a pair of vampires made their way towards one such entrance. They were greeted by a mortal woman, either spelled or drunk on vampiric venom. She sliced open her own wrist, dripping messily over two golden cups before offering the dripping succor to them. Delighted, they took them and hurried inside. ”What are you waiting for lad?! Haven’t you been to one of the Queen’s parties?” A rough hand slapped against his back, and he turned to meet the vibrant red gaze of another vampire who was hurrying towards the tent.
Despite himself, the darkness of his nature pulled at him. His fangs and jaw ached, the long talons of his fingers dug into his own palms. The scent of blood had a heat pooling low in his belly. But disgust washed over him just as quickly. Revulsion and self loathing, fear and pity. The mortals did not deserve this, this carnival of flesh and blood at the amusement of another species. Already, he abhorred the idea of walking through the curtains.
Slowly, even by mortal standards, he made his way into the tent, avoiding the woman offering him a cup of her own blood despite how badly his belly clenched at the scent of it and made his way inside. He could have only guessed at the vision he would have seen. Everywhere he looked there was some new horror to behold. More mortals, spelled, blood slaves, and addicts alike making their way around the room, some stumbling with their blood loss yet still offering more. It was as ornately decorated as the palace surely was, a venue fit only for a Vampiric queen and her blood court to celebrate their evening. The farmland had been carefully covered up with slabs of white marble, every corner adorned with plush duvets or sprawling canopy beds for those that wanted to avoid voyeurism. Everything gilded, including the elaborate throne on which her majesty herself rested. Heavily guarded by both immortal and mortal attendants. Her ancient presence was a force all it’s own, drawing in those around her. Every eye that rested on her was both covetous and lustful for her attention.
A huge golden fountain sat in the center of the room, its centerpiece the vampire drinking from the vein of the virgin, her body clung with ecstasy to her killer. Blood dripped from the vampire's mouth, down her golden neck, between her breasts, over her navel, to slip into the large basin beneath it. Laying about the massive pool were various young mortals, completely naked and reaching for immortal lovers. Many had taken their offers, taken to rutting like pigs in the bath for others to come and watch. Other’s opened their own veins to fill the great bath. He made his way further into the tent, looking up into the rafters to see humans hanging by their legs. Mortal attendants stood beneath them, cutting their own kins necks to fill trays full of golden goblets to deliver about the room. Dark hallways lingered along the edges, leading to depravity he supposed even the Queen did not want on full display, but still wished to provide for her darkest supporters.
The blood scent that had driven his hunger turned cold and hollow in his stomach as he sought refuge in an empty alcove, watching the horrors unfold. A deep sense of sorrow speared through his chest. How could he help so many in a room full of the most ancient and powerful bloodlines known to their society. He could not speak up, he’d be torn to pieces before he could finish chiding them of their sins. He could sneak them out into the dark, release them from their spells, watch them run in a panic and set off a feeding frenzy. He could try to seduce a few of the nobility, turn them to ash in the snow covered gardens.
His mind was racing, looking for any sort of plan or way to help when his gaze landed on familiar fire-touched hair. Her back was to him, and she was not in her usual style of dress. It had been replaced by the scandalous dress the Queen had chosen for her victims. But he knew it was her, the occultist he visited almost every week. The one who made him stumble his words until he nearly bit his own lips with his fangs, who always met him with a kind but knowing gaze. She’d known what he was from the moment he’d stepped foot in her door and she’d hardly batted an eye at it. Her knowledge had been a beacon of guidance to both himself and the others she had kept safe in that city. He should have wondered how in the world she’d been taken.
But there was a hand pressed to the small of her back, fingers curling dangerously close to the hem of her skirt. It was attached to an eager young vampire, his gaze seeking hers to extend her compulsion to him. Lust and hunger burned in his gaze, his foul smile. All reason fled him as a wrath unlike anything he’d ever known pulsed through him until he was sure the others around him could feel the force of his power. He rose to his full height, pulling on every egotistical trait his kind were known for, all thoughts of caution thrown to the wayside. He made his way over, grabbing the hand and nearly crushing it as he pulled it slowly away from her bare skin. His voice carried the power of compulsion as he spoke, not that it would work on his own kin, but it was an intended insult nonetheless. ”This one is mine. I suggest hunting elsewhere.” His smile was not kind, showing his fangs as he wrapped one arm protectively around her waist.
”She bears no mark of ownership, unless you’ve marred her this way as your claim.” Marred? Fury dripped through him like venom. He reached to grab her face, intending to yank her jaw to fully display her scar. But Hawk was faster, placing himself between her and the leech that slithered before him, snatching his hand before he could dare to touch her again. ”Enough. She’s mine. She is here as a favor to the Queen, to be looked at, but nothing else. There is nothing marred about her.” A snarl slipped into his voice, a threat, a promise. It was the only language his kind knew. He broke his gaze only briefly to meet Tanyi’s, his own compulsion reaching out to her mind. ”You are free. Do not scream. Do not react. Do not leave my side… Please.” he added gently at the end, hoping she could keep her composure and not draw any more attention then they were starting to.
