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Fallen Angel	By : anniechan Category: +A through F > CastleVania Views: 3064 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own CastleVania, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Fallen Angel
- 1
Author’s Notes: My first Castlevania fic. My knowledge of the series extends only to Lament of Innocence and the fact that the main idea of the series is the Belmonts’ long struggle against Dracula and his ilk. I’m glad that the one game I’m familiar with is the origin story, as at least my acquaintance with CV starts at the beginning. Too bad LoI is before Alucard’s time. He seems like a really cool character to me. Anyway, that’s beside the point. My favorite vampire in the game is Joachim Armster. Seeing him locked up and alone, bitter and vengeful, got the gears in the speculative part of my brain turning. Who is he? Where did he come from? How did he first fall into Walter’s hands? Those and other questions popped up, so I decided to write this fic. I also decided to give Joachim a very ironic vocation for someone who becomes a vampire. I’m mean that way.

I decided to stage this in France. I don’t know if it’s ever said where all or the majority of CV takes place—it wasn’t in LoI—but the fact that Leon Belmont and Sara Trantoul have French last names makes me assume it’s in or around France. Surnames like Armster, Bernhard, and Cronqvist are Germanic, and Germany is right next to France. Anyway, if I’m wrong, so sue me. XP

WARNING: This fic concerns dark sexual themes, such as rape and a touch of sadomasochism. It’s a vampire story, so what do you expect? It also deals with two men in bed together. If you don’t like, don’t read.

Disclaimer: Castlevania: Lament of Innocence and all characters therein belong to their respective creators and publishers, not me.

Fallen Angel

By Annie-chan

The Eternal Night. Ah, what a beautiful sight. The stars shine white and cold in the black sky, the red moon casting a bloody light on everything below. The sun has not shined on these trees for centuries, so I imagine it to be very cold in this forest. I don’t notice, nor do I care. A being with no body heat of his own hardly has use for warmth.

The sun is setting outside the forest. The nearest villages are going to sleep, their people locking their doors and shuttering their windows for the night. This close to a vampire lord, you must be very cautious after nightfall.

I stand on the highest balcony in the castle, surveying my lands. This forest and the castle at its heart have been around since time immemorial. It proceeded Christianity, the Romans, and even the Gauls in this region. The Eternal Night, however, only came here when I did. I brought the Ebony Stone here, after all.

I touch the black crystal suspended near my throat. It is my greatest treasure, yet it is not enough to satisfy me. I must obtain the Crimson Stone, and some day I shall. The fool alchemist who made it, however, lost it soon after its creation. It was only through luck that I obtained the Ebony Stone, I admit. The Crimson Stone will be far more difficult to find and claim, I am told. But, I know for a fact that no other vampire has found it before me. If that has happened, I am sure it would be well known among the vampire community. Whoever finds it, after all, will have the power to claim lordship over our whole race. It must be mine!

A nagging sensation suddenly pulls at my awareness. Something strange has come into my forest. Many of the creatures that lurk in the trees are undead, and those that are indeed alive are purely evil, servants of my people and independent hellspawn. Something alive and untainted has entered here. There is a tiny fringe of forest, no more than a quarter of a mile wide, that is not surrounded by the barrier that marks the end of the Eternal Night. My awareness outside the barrier is weak, yet I can still sense something unusual there.

It is a human. What idiot would come to this forest at nightfall? He must not be from around here.

It looks like it’s time I ventured out for blood. The sun has completely set, and it is safe for me to leave the forest. Perhaps this hapless stranger will make a good meal. I let myself shrink and warp, turning into a large black-furred bat tinged with red. With an eerie squeal, I take off toward the eastern side of the forest.

It is a large forest, but I am no normal bat. I near the edge in minutes, my wings carrying me faster than the wind itself. I slowly descend into the trees, circling like an eagle, my keen senses keeping watch for any carnivores. Though they could not kill me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been bitten by a hungry wolf looking for a quick snack. Touching down, I grow back into my true form, my wings joining together and widening into my cape.

I am close. Oh, I am so very close. I can smell their blood already, the sharp scent carried to my nostrils by a light breeze. My vampire senses tell me that it is a virgin male. My interest piqued, I hope he is a beautiful one.

I move through the barrier, the dark forces governed by the Ebony Stone letting a vampire like me through easily. My skin tingles as warm air surrounds me, and the white moonlight makes me blink for a moment. I hiss, slightly uncomfortable. It is summertime, and the heat of the day lingers on for several hours after sunset. I normally wait until later to hunt during the summer months, but this unwary intruder has drawn me out early. I may miss my opportunity if I tarry.

I come to the very edge of the trees and peer out, keeping myself well hidden in the shadows. There is a small, shallow lake on this side of the forest, and I find myself not twenty feet from its western shore.

There he is. Oh, sweet Devil, what a catch. He is naked, his clothes discarded on the green grass, standing waist-deep in the clear water. My sharp eyes see a slender, chiseled physique, the toned muscles rippling beneath his smooth, pale skin with every movement that he makes. Straight, flaxen-blond hair falls a little past his shoulders, framing his face. I think I catch a glimmer of dark blue in his eyes, but I am too far away to tell for sure.

I watch him as he bathes. My mouth, even my teeth, is tingling at the thought of this gorgeous young man’s blood, the hot red liquid flowing over my tongue and down my throat. I marvel that he is a virgin. Surely young women would be captivated by such beauty in a man.

I do not need to breathe, but I still suck in a breath when he emerges from the water. I can see all of him now, and I am not disappointed. Has an angel descended to Earth? But, how can he be an angel? He would know that he is so close to a vampire, one of Lucifer’s favorite creations.

He dresses again, and I get my answer to his virginity. He is a priest, apparently one who travels frequently. He must be in the wild to find God’s presence in nature, to experience the Creation in its purest form. I smile as I see the irony. Beautiful priests, monks, and nuns are such a tragic waste.

Fully dressed again, he sits down on the grass, gazing out over the water. The moonlight sparkles in his damp hair, making the blond shine white. I may as well let myself be known now. I step out of the trees and hail him.

He turns around, startled. He obviously hadn’t known that anyone was watching him.

“I am sorry,” I apologize, smiling. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

“Who are you?” he asks. He is not impudent, only curious.

“My name is Walter Bernhard,” I say with the dignity of my ancient bloodline. “I am the master of this land.”

“I am sorry,” he says. “I did not know I was trespassing. I can be gone by sunrise, if you would like.”

“Oh, no,” I say. “Stay, please. My castle is deeper into the forest. You may stay there for the night, if you wish.”

“I thank you, but no,” he declines. “I am on a pilgrimage to find God. I should stay out in the wild, so I may remain surrounded with His works. I appreciate your hospitality, Lord Bernhard, but I must decline.”

I nod. “A priest, are you?” I am careful not to look directly at the cross hanging from his neck.

“Yes,” he answers. “I come from Paris, where I was ordained last year.”

“Paris?” I repeat, surprised. “That is almost four hundred miles from here.”

“I have been traveling for a long time,” he explains. “I am the youngest son of a farmer, and I felt my calling to the priesthood as a child. I left my church soon after being ordained to find God.”

“I see,” I nod. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” he says.

“Nineteen,” I say, stepping closer. “A good age to stay eternally, wouldn’t you say?” I don’t want to let this one go. He won’t just be a meal for me, but one of my servants. Such beauty and grace is worth preserving.

“What?” he asks, clearly confused. He steps back without realizing it, suddenly uncomfortable. He isn’t so uncomfortable as to flee, yet.

“What is your name?” I ask, not elaborating just yet.

“Joachim,” he replies, stepping back more. “Joachim Armster.”

“I insist that you come back with me, Joachim,” I say. “I want you to stay with me.” I put a hand on his shoulder, and he flinches, feeling the coldness of my skin even through his shirt and my glove.

Our eyes meet directly for the first time, and he gasps and stiffens. He’s realized what I am.

“God, help me…!” he mutters, clutching at the cross pendant and trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his shoulder, not intending to let him escape. He struggles, but I fling him easily to the ground on his side, his human strength useless against me. He cries out in pain, momentarily stunned, his fingers jarred loose from around the necklace. I reach down and grasp the chain, careful not to touch the cross itself. Jerking hard, I snap the chain and fling the entire necklace into the lake.

“Ah!” he gasps, the breaking chain chafing the delicate skin of his neck. As if without thinking, he pushes himself up and lunges for a small traveling bag that I had not yet noticed. I assume it holds his small stash of possessions, and there must be another ward against evil in there, such as a Bible. I bring my foot down hard on his hand, crushing it to the ground. I feel the bones pop beneath my boot, but fortunately for him, they do not break.

He screams in surprise and pain, his thin hand sandwiched beneath my hard heel and the slightly less hard ground. He tries to pull away, but I grab his hair, pulling hard enough to sting. His movements cease, and I make him look at me, pulling his head back so far that his neck almost pops. Stark terror is in his eyes, and he pleads with me to let him go, to have mercy. He had said before that he had wanted to serve God as a priest since childhood, and that he had only recently been ordained. He must be absolutely horrified with the idea of becoming a vampire, the natural enemy of any and all things holy or sacred.

“Mercy is not something vampires possess, Joachim,” I hiss, kneeling down next to him, letting go of his hair but clamping my fingers around his nape, holding him still. My body aches for him, to feel his hot flesh straining against me, writhing and bucking in painful pleasure, his beautiful moans and screams filling my ears. I want to take him completely, make him all mine. He is the most perfect human being I have ever laid eyes on, and I am filled with a lust to taint that perfection, recreate him in my image, make a vampire that stands above all other vampires in beauty and elegance.

He chokes in fear, tears brimming behind his lush eyelashes as my hand slides into his pants, groping between his legs.

I stop. I am not immediately sure why or what inner strength stays my need for him, but I stop. I look at him, cowering on the grass, his legs spread against his will and his entire body tense and anxious, and I feel a smile sliding over my lips. Not here, not now. I will take him back with me, and I won’t feed from or couple with him until I have him somewhere where it will be more comfortable, more pleasurable. It’s been a long time since I’ve changed someone, longer still since I’ve had quite the desire for them as I have for this one. I want to draw this out, get the most out of breaking and dominating him before he is completely changed. Then, he will be willing and eager to play with me, but it is also ever so satisfying to ravish a defiant captive.

“It looks like you’ll be coming back with me a little sooner than I first planned,” I say, pulling his head back again, making him look into my eyes. “I’m going to have a little fun with you.”

His sapphire eyes widen, mesmerized by the red-orange glow that flares up in my eyes. He falls quickly under my spell and goes completely limp, his eyes sliding shut.

“Good boy,” I purr into his unhearing ear as I gather him up into my arms, handling him as if he were made of glass. He looks calm and serene, as if sleeping peacefully back at his church in Paris.

Quick and silent as a shadow, I take him back to my castle. Oh, how entertaining this little priest will be…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He stirs and moans. He will wake soon.

He is lying in a large, plush bed in one of the many guestrooms in my castle. My own room has no bed, but an ornately carved coffin constructed of the best hardwood. However, not all of my guests are vampires, and I must have proper accommodations for them, as well. As it were, this Joachim would be more comfortable in a bed like this.

What a beauty he is. Up close, he is even more captivating than when I first saw him. His long, light-brown eyelashes lie softly on his pale cheeks, drawing the eyes to the slight blush his blood brings to his light skin. The slender face is almost feminine, and his full, pink lips scream to be kissed, especially when they part to let a soft sigh through. It’s taken a good deal of strength not to indeed kiss him, crushing his lips beneath mine and ravaging his warm mouth with my tongue.

His body is no less than perfect, worthy of the envy of even the lovely youths the Greek sculptors prized so much as subjects for their art. He is all firm, toned muscle, but he is not bulky, not unnatural. He is slender and streamlined, giving me more the impression of a dancer than a farmer’s son. He is strong, yet not so strong as to present a challenge to me.

I will not couple with him. Not yet. I want it to be when he is at his most vulnerable, his most emotional. I was born vampire, so I have never gone through the change, but I have observed it enough to know that it is extremely uncomfortable, more so mentally than physically. He will feel his body dying all around him, his heart and lungs stopping as his flesh and blood grows cold, but the mental changes will be pure hell for him. The clash of human and vampire within him will torment him, confusing and tearing at him to no end. I have seen perfectly sane people reduced to screaming madmen as the change holds them in its claws. I will wait to take him until he is perfectly balanced between the two, writhing in agony between their two sharp points. I want to break him completely, make him totally mine, and that will be the most opportune time to do it. He will lose the ability to feel remorse or regret once fully changed, but he will still be all mine, and he will know it. It takes an exceptionally foolish and prideful vampire to challenge their master before powerful enough to at least be a match to them, and Joachim will not equal me in power for at least a few centuries yet, most likely many more.

Again, he stirs. His thick eyelashes flutter, and I see slits of deep blue open. He groans something that sounds like “Where am I?”

“You are in the heart of Eternal Night,” I reply, “in the easternmost room of the north wing of the third floor of the castle that rests there, if you want to be specific.”

His eyes pop open, and he sits up in a hurry. He remembers quite clearly, it seems. He gropes at his chest for the cross necklace and pales when he finds it gone, perhaps remembering that I threw it away.

“Welcome to my home, Joachim Armster,” is say with dignity, as if greeting a nobleman from a distant land.

“Oh, God, have mercy!” he stammers, edging away from me.

“You refused my offered hospitality, so I’m afraid that I have insisted that you accept,” I explain, as if apologizing. “I hope you do not find your accommodations insufficient.”

“You beast!” he suddenly cries, jumping out of bed and backing away. “You MONSTER!”

My polite façade melts away, and I stand as well. “You seem unhappy,” is say, my voice low, the bed between us. “I am sure I can guess why.”

He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes widening as he swallows. He realizes that he has put me between himself and the door.

“Do you wish to be released?” I ask.

He nods, his jaw set and his eyes glaring.

“Without being harmed or hurt in any way?”

“Yes,” he replies, a slight hiss on the last letter.

“My, what a defiant thing you are,” I smile. “How well you conform to the church norm, I would like to know.”

“Enough,” he spits. “Let me go.”

“Out of the question,” I say, the insulted feeling at being called a beast and a monster all but gone now. “I have plans for you.”

“Plans?” he asks. His back is almost against the wall.

“Oh, the expected,” I shrug, as if he is familiar with my actions. “First, I will drain your blood. Second, I will be most entertained watching the change start to take hold of you. Third, I will rape you, and don’t think I shy away from causing my toys as much pain and suffering as strikes my fancy. Fourth and finally, I will watch you succumb entirely to the change, and we will probably celebrate the initiation of you as my new servant with quite the sinful mixture of blood, sex, and violence. Do you have any further questions?” I am quite to the point. He doesn’t seem the type to play around with words, so why should I?

He is rigid, his back pressed against the wall, his expression a combination of rage, terror, and shock. He apparently didn’t expect such bluntness.

“Good, you understand,” I smile, a predatory smile sliding over my lips. My tongue tingles in anticipation. Will his blood be sweet or tangy? Oh, he looks and smells delicious—

I have him backed up against the wall, mere inches between us. What a foolish move that was.

Pain explodes between my legs, making me howl in anguish and fall to my hands and knees. He had unexpectedly—and very powerfully—rammed his knee into my groin. I have removed my armor since returning to the castle, so I have no physical protection anywhere, and he has chosen to attack the most sensitive area in a man. Vampires are dropped cold by such pain just as easily as humans are.

Little bastard! I growl internally. Not very priestly of him. A new rush of anger flows through me as I hear the door flung open. Damn it, I hadn’t locked it!

I force myself up to my feet, willing the pain to subside, and go out the door after him. He is fast, as I guessed, and he is already out of sight, turning a corner and hoping to soon lose me in the maze of hallways that makes up the castle. How stupid of him. I know the layout of this castle by heart, and I can pick up his scent. I’d be able to follow him even if I wasn’t familiar with the castle.

The pain almost gone, I take off after him. He is fast, but only fast for a human. A vampire can easily overtake even the fastest human runner, and I quickly gain on him until I can hear his footfalls. I had removed his shoes before laying him in the bed, so all he has on his feet are cloth stockings, but my keen hearing can pick up his footsteps from as far away as it would take him to pick out the sound of my boot heels clicking on the polished floor. One of the most rudimentary gifts of the vampires is the ability to float and fly, however, and my feet do not touch the ground as I pursue him. He won’t be aware of me until I am almost upon him.

I reach out with my senses, feeling his emotional cacophony as easily as I hear his footsteps and smell his blood pumping through his veins and his sweat coating his skin. He is terrified, and I can tell that he is pleading to God and Jesus and Mary for salvation, for some miracle to put him forever out of my reach. Foolish boy. They aren’t here. Why would they waste their time looking on the black heart of an evil-infested forest? Face it, Joachim. They have abandoned you.

“Joachim,” I find myself calling, playfulness in my voice. To Hell with stealth. I will soon catch him, surprise or no. “I can smell your blood, Joachim. You smell good.” I draw out the last word, my voice dripping with hunger and lust. His terror actually increases, and he flees with more speed than ever. He is quickly getting himself lost.

I effortlessly speed up, matching and surpassing his speed with a mere thought. I can hear his labored breathing rasping in his chest and throat. He can’t be more than one or two rooms or hallways away from me now.

Aha! Caught him. I lock the opposite door of the room with my mind before he can reach it, and he finds himself tugging uselessly on the knob. The only other door, the one he and I came in, I close slowly and softly, locking it as well. The loud click of the latch practically echoes in the room, and he whirls around, his back pressed against the door.

“No…!” he begs, sinking to the floor and cowering. “No! Oh, mercy, no!”

“I told you before,” I say, closing the distance between us. “I have no mercy.”

“God…!” he whines, tears slipping down his chilled skin.

“He is not here,” I say, crouching down and reaching for him.

He flinches away. “He is everywhere!”

“Really?” I ask, pulling him toward me despite his struggles. “Why would He allow one of His servants—a very lovely and dedicated servant at that—to fall so quickly and easily under my spell?”

Still pushing away, he falters for half a second. “He…He is everywhere…!” he stammers. He is close enough to feel my cold breath, and he shivers, goose bumps rising on his normally smooth skin.

I clamp my fingers around his chin and force him to look at me. “He. Is. Not. Here.” I punctuate every word, hopefully driving the message deep. You are beyond all help, Joachim Armster, no matter how much you pray.

His blue eyes widen as our gazes meet, but he is lucky this time. I do not mesmerize him, so he retains control of his wits and his body. What fun is it to feed off someone when they haven’t the ability to fight back?

I take a firm hold of his nape and lift him up off his feet as I stand. He hangs there, his face tilted upward, trembling. I am sure he is uncomfortable hanging by his neck like this. Considering his height and build, he must weigh at least one hundred fifty pounds, but he is all but weightless to me. Ah, vampire strength is such a wonder.

I carry him back to his room like this, his toes a few inches above the floor at all times. He does not struggle, which is fine by me. He can struggle all he wants in a few minutes, but now is not the time. Closing the door behind me, I make sure this time that it is locked. The window opposite, looking out into the Eternal Night, is also locked, and the glass—a material not yet common in human architecture—is too strong to be easily broken. He would have to throw himself against it with all his strength to shatter it.

“Now, be a good boy,” I say, laying him down on the bed, “and don’t struggle too much. If you let it, it can be pleasurable for you, too.”

“Oh, God…” he sobs, his tears starting again. He fights weakly against me, his fear sapping his strength, whimpering and whining softly. I pull his shirt open, making his collar fall away from his neck and expose the soft flesh underneath.

“Oh…” I purr, the graceful lines of his neck very pleasing to my eyes. “So beautiful…” I lick his neck. His sweet-salty flavor blossoms on my tongue, and I immediately crave move.

“G-God!” he chokes, trying to shy away from the wet squirm on his neck. Damn it, that’s enough! He is not listening to your pathetic squeals for help! To silence him, I give into a desire I’ve had since laying eyes on him. I kiss him roughly, deeply, possessively. I press so hard that my teeth bite in, forcing his mouth open and peeling his lips back from his teeth. I thrust my tongue far into his warm, soft mouth, savoring the flavor even through my fury. He is sweet, his tongue shying from mine, flinching away at the slightest touch. A vampire’s tongue is longer and more flexible than a human’s, so I give him no leeway, winding my tongue around his and drawing him into a hot, wet, slippery dance.

I finally draw back after what must be several minutes. He is panting hard, his heart racing and his cheeks red. Oh, he looks gorgeous like this, out of breath and helpless. I waste no more time, pulling him up against me and sinking my teeth in.

He cries out hoarsely and tries to push away. Forget it, Joachim. You are mine now, and I am very possessive of my toys. He finally relaxes, though is still shaking, his body jerking with silent sobs as I feed. His hot blood flows over my tongue and down my throat, and I am not disappointed. He is both tangy and sweet, a metallic twinge touching all parts of the taste. I tighten my grip and suck harder.

After a while, I withdraw my teeth and let him fall back to the mattress and pillow. He is limp, his skin sheet-white, his face once again peaceful. I have drained him almost entirely. The only thing keeping his nearly bloodless body alive is the vampire’s curse. His blood will slowly regenerate as he changes, and he will have a full supply by the time the change is complete. The change will not start for around a day, and he will then begin to feel himself dying, falling under what he will at first perceive as an evil, foreign presence. It will be all his mind, regardless of his beliefs, however. His darker side will merely be asserting its dominance.

For now, he is sleeping, his brain shut down for lack of blood. I smile as I tuck his blond hair behind his ears, out of his eyes. He has such a baby face as he sleeps. Cute, almost.

“Sleep well, Joachim,” I purr, showing tenderness befitting the parent of a tired-out child. I cover him with the bedclothes, making sure he is warm. He will be very uncomfortable for the next several days, and I will get plenty of entertainment out of him then. For now, I will allow him a few last comforts.

I look out at the red moon as I hear an animal—perhaps a werewolf—howl into the night. Things have recently taken a very good turn, indeed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I have been out. A vampire has to eat, after all, regardless of who their guests are. One of my servants, a succubus who shows a willingness unusual in a demon to take my orders, has been charged with keeping watch over Joachim while I am away. She learned a long time ago to stay away from my personal captives unless I give her permission to play, so I have no worries that she will have her way with him. I want him to be mine and mine alone, and I told her so. He is very beautiful, however, so she’ll probably find someone else to vent her desires on.

I find my guess correct as I reenter the room I have placed him in. I find the succubus on the bed, pinned under an incubus who is known to frequent the nearby villages. The bed is large enough for them as well as Joachim, and they are on the foot-end of it, lying at right angles to him. The phrase “going at it like rabbits” would be a bit of an understatement. Two sex-demons in a clinch is a perfect picture of pure lust, the epitome of carnality. Succubae and incubi are the only beings that surpass vampires in the ability to experience as well as invoke the pleasures of the flesh. I do not consider myself jealous, as vampires are much more powerful then these low-ranking demons, and we can experience pleasure in many more ways than just sex.

Normally, I would pay them no mind. I have found her many times rutting with a variety of beings—some of her choices for bedmates seemed of quite low taste, but that is not my affair—and I have none of the inhibitions about sex that humans do. This is just what she does. However, they are less than twelve inches from Joachim, and he is in very serious danger of being “accidentally” incorporated into their little game. I knew she’d find another outlet for her desire, but I am none too pleased to find her doing so before I let her go to tend to her own business.

I wait for them to finish, as prying two sex-demons apart is like getting water out of a stone. When they do, I make my presence known quite severely.

A few minutes later, the two demons chased out into the hallway and their clothes thrown after them, I close and lock the door again.

Joachim is completely unaware of what was happening at his feet, apparently. He is lying on his back, completely still except for his breathing, which is slowly failing him. His head is turned to the side, and his eyes are open, but they are not aware. He has retreated completely into his mind, hoping to escape the changes racing through him. The largest part of the change is happening in his mind, though, so he will not escape it there, either. The steady flow of tears falling from his half-closed eyes is testimony to that.

The bite marks on his neck have begun to fade. By the time he is completely changed, they will be gone.

I touch his cheek, brushing my fingers through the tear tracks. He jolts and quickly turns his head toward me, sucking in his breath. His eyes are wide, and I see dramatic change in them already. Instead of deep blue, they are very indigo. Red is beginning to mix with his natural eye color, steering them toward purple. His skin is an evener white, no slight blush in his cheeks anymore. It is a bit hard to tell, as his hair was so light to begin with, but it appears to be an even paler shade of blond than it was before.

“Y-you…” he murmurs, shaking in fear and pain. “You did this to me…!”

“Yes, I did,” I answer, gently stroking my fingers through his smooth hair, like a mother trying to calm a frightened child. He tries to move away, but something appears to be holding him back.

“Evil…!” he whimpers in his reedy voice.

I smile, and I know that there is no small amount of predatory satisfaction in that smile. “Yes, I am.”

He turns his head away from me again, sobbing softly. He looks so helpless…

Now. Now is the time I have been waiting for. He is perfectly balanced, the human “goodness” and the vampire “badness” striving within him with equal force, pulling his mind in two different directions at once. He is suspended, the two sharp hooks digging in and tearing at his soul, shredding the very essence of his being to be put together again in a completely different fashion.

He is at his most fragile, and I can now shatter him so thoroughly that he will never forget whom he owes his service to.

He shivers a bit as his clothes are removed, though not as much as before. His skin is growing colder, so he notices the chilliness of the room less. Finally, tossing the last of his clothing onto the floor, I have him in all his naked glory laid out before me. Oh, “gorgeous” is too weak a word for him. He is a young god, surely. I have never seen such physical perfection in a mortal before.

My body tingles as I remove my own clothing. However, just as I finish, something seems to click into place in his head, and he becomes aware of his surroundings again. His eyes snap back to me, pure horror in them, and he tries to flee. I grab his upper arms before he can leave the bed, and I force him onto his back again, straddling his thighs and holding his shoulders down with my hands.

“N-n-no!” he chokes, fighting me. “Don’t t-touch me!”

“You are mine, sweet one,” I purr, settling over him and trailing my tongue up his neck to his ear. His struggles are not as frantic as I would expect in someone about to be raped, despite his desperate words. The vampire in him wants this badly, and his human side can no longer entirely suppress it. His taut body is rubbing against mine along our entire length, and I feel a fire growing within me. The softness and smoothness, the pleasing firmness, the whisper of skin against skin…this is getting to be too much. My hips press down against him, and we both gasp lightly. I suckle on his earlobe, nibbling the pliable tissue, and a whimper sliding from his throat takes on a very different quality.

“You like this,” I breathe, letting the soft puff of air from my lips tickle the delicate skin under and behind his ear. I pass my tongue over that same skin, sending delightful little shivers through his slender frame.

“Let me go…!” he whines, shaking his head. Just like a human to deny his urges.

“Never,” I whisper, my fingers seeking out and wrapping around the very sensitive flesh between his legs. I begin squeezing and stroking, and he begins to enlarge and harden, much to his chagrin. The groan coming from his pale throat is both pleasured and pained. Curious as to what will happen, I squeeze hard enough to be quite painful. To my surprise, he arches up and cries out thinly. This is the reaction of someone who wants more, not someone who is pleading for mercy. Aha…this one likes to be hurt! We’ll have to explore this more in the future…

For now, I just want to dominate him. I will crack his soul in two tonight.

Enough playing. We will have plenty of opportunity for more involved sex in the future. Now, I merely spread his legs, settle in between them, and position myself at his entrance. His whimpering turns into a scream as I fully embed myself in him. I have neither prepared him nor lubricated myself. There is nothing between us, nothing to lessen the physical union. I kiss his parted lips, as if to comfort him, dipping my tongue into his mouth.

I move within him swiftly and powerfully, pulling out and thrusting back in rhythmically, feeling the blood seeping out of his torn skin, slightly reducing the intense chafing. He is crying out with every movement, but I also find that, whether he realizes it or not, he is bucking up against me. He is not trying to throw me off, but to meet my thrusts, taking me in deeper.

“Yeeeeesssss…” I hiss, speeding up. He is clutching at the sheets beneath him, anchoring himself in order to arch up more, pressing harder against me. He is beyond pleading for clemency. This is what he wants now. This is what his body and mind will soon thrive upon, the very opposite of the sanitary, celibate life of the clergy.

We come together, our ecstatic screams mingling and echoing off the stone walls. I go limp upon him when my orgasm winds down to a warm glow, my larger frame pressing him firmly into the mattress.

“Nnnnngh,” he moans, exhausted.

“Hm…?” I say noncommittally, nuzzling his neck.

“I’ve…sinned…” he whispers, his consciousness escaping him.

“Yes,” I purr, kissing the fading bite marks, “you have.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It is three days later. I have ordered him cleaned up and the bedclothes changed, but I have not redressed him. He is naked under the sheets, the coverings pulled up to his chest. I am not playing with him while he is helpless, though I have had plenty of opportunities to. His body was traumatized by our first coupling. I had caused substantial tearing, and he hadn’t yet a full supply of blood in him. I will wait to have him again until he is fully changed, when physical injuries heal in a matter of minutes and pose no threat to him.

“I tired you out quite thoroughly, didn’t I, little one?” I ask his sleeping form. His skin twitches when I touch his cheek, but I get no other reaction.

He has spent most of the past three days sleeping, his body recovering and continuing to change. All the while, his skin has been growing colder and colder…

I pause, lying very still next to him. He is under the bedclothes while I am on top, but they are thin enough that I should detect some kind of breathing. I do not.

“Have you become one of us at last?” I whisper to him, pulling the bedclothes back and laying my head on his chest. No breathing, no heartbeat.

Without warning, a slender but strong arm wraps around my neck, holding my head there like an affectionate lover would. The fingers stroke lightly through my flame-red hair, and I hear a purr of satisfaction vibrate in his chest and throat. I push myself up a bit, his arm not restricting me, and look into his now wide-awake face. My eyes widen a bit as I take in his new look. Deep purple eyes flecked with red are looking at me, no trace of human conscience in them. His skin is whiter than mine, so white in fact that I am amazed that I can’t see right through it to his blood vessels and bone. Hair as soft and pale as snow falls gently around his neck and shoulders, inviting me to touch. A smile curves his mouth, and when his red tongue darts out to moisten his lips, I glimpse wickedly sharp teeth gleaming within.

What a beauty I have created.

The sight of that tongue gliding softly over those lips is too much. I kiss him hard, roughly. I am not so forceful as when I silenced his petty pleas for mercy, but I am every bit as possessive. My fangs bite into the delicate skin, my tongue exploring the deep parts of his mouth.

To my satisfaction, he growls in pleasure and kisses back with almost equal fervor. His arms wrap around my neck, his fingers clutching at the thin fabric of my shirt, his nails scratching through to be felt on my skin. His fresh young body presses against mine, and he grunts in disappointment that much of him is still covered by the bedclothes.

Minutes later, loathing to do so, I pull away. I lick at the blood on his lips before looking at him, and when I do, a small shock of realization goes through me. He is panting, aroused, his half-mast eyes demanding more, but he is also very weak. He has not eaten since before I met him. Neither food nor blood has passed his lips in over a week, and even vampires can starve. He needs fresh blood soon, or he will begin to waste away.

“You need to eat, young one,” I say quietly. I lay him back down, and he lets go of me, nodding slightly.

“Hungry…” he says, the word more breathed than voiced. One good-sized adult, and he’ll be feeling much better.

I cover him and stand, going over to the wardrobe on the north wall. I have had clothes made to his size, as he cannot just wear those old priest’s clothes anymore. They do not befit a vampire, and he is now a resident of this castle. He deserves the finest. Opening the wardrobe, I pull out a gray ankle-length robe. It will do until he is strong again, and then he can dress himself to his liking. I hear it is designed much like the clothes men wear in a kingdom called “China”, at the other end of the long Silk Road. Perhaps it is, but I would not know Chinese fashions from those from the hot desert lands to the southeast I hear call “Arabia”. I have not roamed very far eastward.

As I shut the wardrobe, I feel the air in the room get colder, and I look behind me. He has gotten out of bed and crossed over to the window, opening it and gazing out at the red moon. He pays no mind to the cold air flowing over his bare skin, nor does he care that he is standing naked in the window, exposed for anything out in the forest to look up and see.

“You must be careful, Joachim,” I say. “You are very hungry, and that makes you very weak. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” I drape the soft fabric over his shoulders, and he looks back at me, a little startled by the touch. He puts his arms through the sleeves and touches the cloth, looking down at it in interest. I reach around him to fasten it, and I feel him lean back against me.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“You must get back in bed,” I tell him, and I take him back and lay him down before he can protest. I sense a strong independence in this one, and whether that will turn out for good or ill, I have yet to see. “I will be back soon,” I say, and I leave him. He doesn’t need watching over anymore, so I do not call for anyone. I quickly leave the castle to find blood for him.

I manage to snatch a young man from one of the outlying houses around the nearest village. Through luck, he looked right at me when he woke up, and he made no sound before falling under my spell. I was in and out of the house within two minutes.

I find Joachim curled up on his side when I return, apparently sleeping. The blankets are pulled up halfway over him, and I stare for a moment, loving how the delicate folds of his robe lie close to his stunning body.

He inhales sharply through his nose as the scent of living human hits his nostrils. His eyes are open in an instant, and he pushes himself up, looking at the youth lying mesmerized in my arms. A ravenous hunger flares up in his eyes, and he licks his lips. His teeth click once or twice as the open and close. Oh, how I love how animalistic we can be when a need grips us.

“Give him to me,” he hisses, sitting up completely. “I’m hungry!” He is shaking, and I can tell how desperately starved his body is. It was very unwise of me not to think that his body would need nourishment of some kind as he changed.

“How eager you are,” I chide in spite of knowing how much he needs blood. I lie the youth next to him. “You are weak, so I made it so he won’t struggle. Be quick, or the spell may wear off.”

He hisses again, this time in satisfaction, pulling up the warm body and pulling the shirt away from his neck. As he open his mouth, I see saliva dripping off the needle-like teeth. I hear skin stretching and tearing as he sinks his fangs in, groaning in relief as the blood finally flows over his tongue.

He clutches tightly to the body, sucking the wound hard, drinking impatiently. I notice a change come over him as he does so. Not so much visibly, but I can feel him grow stronger, his intense hunger subsiding and fading.

Finally, Joachim extracts his teeth from the youth’s neck. He has bled him dry, sucking up every ounce of blood.

“Not a drop spilled,” I smile. “Very good.”

He smiles back wickedly, his lips and teeth red. Licking the last of the blood from his lips, he pushes the dead body away and onto the floor, coming at me with another desire in his eyes. He kisses me, sliding his fingers into my hair, his nails scraping over my scalp. I can smell the craving coursing through him, and I gladly let him get closer, pressing against me with an unmistakable need.

I can’t help but ask, though, teasing lightly as I break the kiss. “What do you want, Joachim?”

“I want sex!” he breathes, wrapping himself around me and slipping his hands into my shirt. “I want you to FUCK me!”

“My, my, my,” I growl playfully. “Such unpriestly language!”

He snarls into my ear, and I finally give in and push him down. He spreads himself out wantonly beneath me, and I feel a predatory smile stretch my lips. This angel has fallen, fallen completely from the Light. He has gone from straight-laced young minister to lustful young nymph. Even better, this gorgeous thing is mine to command and teach, to reshape in my own image. I haven’t had such good fortune in hunting in a very long time.

I satisfy his demand with no small amount of my own need, my ears ringing pleasantly with his shriek of pain and pleasure. Oh, yes…this one…this one is worth keeping, worth spending my time in refining and perfecting.

Our cries filter out the open window into the cold air, carrying far into the dark night. Far away, a werewolf howls in reply.

Owari

Author’s Notes: There, I’m finally done. I think I’ve been writing this for a week. It normally takes a few days to write a fic like this, but I’ve had to spread it out due to unusual circumstances at home. I’ve experienced several dramatic mood swings lately, both good and bad, and I am mentally exhausted. But, I hope things have turned out for the better, so I’m doing fine now.

I hope I wrote this fic well. I didn’t want to go any further into their relationship than I did, because if I went past Joachim’s transformation, this fic would get much longer with all the good and bad that happens between them, resulting in Joachim being thrown into the castle’s waterway to rot. I have “Separate Destinies” in progress, and I didn’t want another long fic on my hands. Was this origin story done well? Let me know in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!
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Fallen Angel