3 comments/ 20651 views/ 6 favorites Vampire Meets Werewolf By: Microwave0ven Warning - contains some random violence and homosexual content. --- Silver moonlight glimmered over a sweetly trickling river and spilled around silhouetted trees and grasses. In the distance, beyond the river, the city skyline glowed faintly orange. Out of place amidst the serenity was a dark figure, stalking through the whispering grasses with a vengeance, slashing at what was in his way and stepping on branches that cracked sharply in the near-silence of the night. Continuing his destructive path, the figure glared at nothing in particular until he reached the base of the Black Mountain. He glanced at his watch and looked up at the sheer slope of the mountain thoughtfully. Seemingly having made his decision, he heaved a visible sigh of bitter resignation, shifted his backpack, and continued his uphill climb. Twice shunned by his family, not wanting to receive the same from his roommates at college, Colin was playing hooky for a week to at least delay the presupposed reactions he expected he would get. He had left a note for his parents and started out the night before, bussing from his house in the inner city to the suburbs, then starting out on foot towards his goal. The Black Mountains were a desolate place, perfectly matching his mood. He didn't want to be around any people at the moment anyway. He muttered wordlessly under his breath, an angry monologue playing through his head about how things weren't fair and they likely never would be. High above him on a mountain ledge, somebody was watching. Brock had been sensing, for the last half hour or so, an intoxicating wave of black anger and bitterness coming his way. He could just taste the lightest scent of wildness under the bitterness and sheer power of the anger. He met that anger and sent back a taste of his own black soul, back to the sender, but getting nothing in return, he assumed that probably they were not aware of their own powers. He sent out a second magical probe, a tiny lure that would at least draw the person behind the anger towards him. Now, he was beginning to see the fruits of his labor as a person toiled up the mountain, more crawling than climbing. He idly swung a metal rod at the walls of the cave, watching the sparks shower down from the impact. The rocks were nearly vertical, but there was something that urged him onward, to reach at least that little ledge against the cliff-like face of the mountain that had a faint light coming from beyond it. He was no longer altogether certain where he was anymore, but hopefully there was someone there who could help him out. Last time he had been to the Black Mountain on a camping trip with some buddies they'd found a little cave beside a crystal-clear melted glacier lake. That was before everything had happened though. His breath whistled in the silence of the night. The moon had continued on its path upwards in the sky since he'd climbed this far. He looked at his watch again. He had at least five hours or so until the sun rose and he hoped he would reach his destination by then. He stopped just below the ledge, choosing to put down his backpack and sit awhile to catch his breath. Being outdoors always calmed him, and this was no exception. The moon was about 1/3 of the way up in the sky, and from his perch, he could see the great Comarin River, snaking its way across the mostly-flat land in a silvery trail. Near the horizon he could see how far he'd come. The city was glowing orangey from the streetlamps. It was beautiful, but he didn't fit in there, he observed with bitter regret. This wilderness was closer to where he felt like he belonged. He sniffed deeply as wind buffeted his body, scenting the smell of wood smoke in the air. Metal clanged above him and a powerful beam of a flashlight swept across his seating area. A gravelly voice spoke above him. "Are you going to just sit there or are you going to come up? I have a little fire going." "Fuck!" Colin snapped as he nearly levitated. He clapped his mouth shut with a click and clenched his hands into fists to hide the result of his surprise. Regaining his control, he willed them to disappear. He peered up to the ledge to see the silhouetted of a guy, looking down at him with amusement, obviously waiting for his response. "I mean, uh, yeah...sure, give me a minute." When he was sure the guy had gone back, he looked at his fingers in the dim moonlight. They seemed to be normal. "You coming?" the person asked again, coming to the edge of the rocky outcrop and offering him a hand up. "I'm Brock, by the way. Brock Hall." "Colin Grabner." he replied shortly. Colin gathered his stuff and shouldered his backpack again and climbed up on the ledge. "What are you doing out here?" he asked after he put down his backpack by the fire and brushed off his faded jeans. He finally had a chance to look over the stranger in the flickering firelight. The stranger was tall and lean. He was dressed in black jeans, a black tank top and a black leather jacket. Brock leaned against the far wall of the cave and shone the large flashlight at Colin. He smirked, "Waiting for you." He looked Colin up and down and licked his lips appreciatively. Colin was about to give him a smart-aleck remark, but he was caught completely off-guard by this answer. "Waiting for me?" He hadn't told anyone he was going camping, and he didn't even know this guy. "Yeah, I could feel you coming a mile away." Brock gave a wry smile, "You woke me up." He levered himself off the wall and walked closer to Colin. "What color are my eyes?" he suddenly asked. "What?" Colin stammered. He stepped back quickly to maintain his personal space and avoided Brock's eyes. This was getting too close for his comfort. "You know what, thanks for the conversation and all, but I think I'd better be going now." He kept his eyes on Brock's feet while he backed away and slowly reached for his backpack. It was about time to leave, this guy was too weird. Brock narrowed his eyes, "Look at me. What color are my eyes?" he demanded, stepping closer and grabbing Colin's chin, forcing his head up. "Look at me!" he growled, shoving him backwards until his back hit the wall and he dropped his backpack. Angry, confused eyes finally met his, and he focused on those baby blue eyes, the windows to a man's soul, as people say. Dizziness swept over Colin, and he did the only natural thing he could think of when Brock's quick hands reached for his throat. Lashing out with teeth, claws, fists and feet, he ripped into whatever was within reach. He felt his clothes rip and tear as he fought off the unexpected attack with desperation. Cold experienced blackness prevailed though, and he sank unwillingly into Brock's eyes. Brock laughed as Colin flailed at him, but was caught short as razor-edged claws unexpectedly sliced through his clothing like butter. He snarled in suprise and pain when sharp canine teeth sank into his forearm, instead of blunt human teeth. He redoubled his efforts and Colin finally went under, slumping limply to the ground in a heap. Brock eyed him suspiciously, examining the quickly closing wounds on his arm and shoulder. Those claw marks were not human. What was the call this man showed that attracted him here? Wild and feral. He shook his head and busied himself with some rope, hogtying Colin securely so that when he woke, he wouldn't be a problem. He rigged up a rope harness and carried Colin deeper into the cave where he hung him up at about eye level. Excited now that his victim was completely at his mercy, Brock slapped him a few times across the face, "Wake up, bitch!" No response. The unconscious man's head just rolled to one side, displaying the clean, smooth skin of his neck where his pulse fluttered delicately. Brock growled under his breath and moved closer his eyes fixated on the pulse. He pushed Colin's lolling head farther back, displaying his neck more prominently than before. He wanted to bite that neck, pierce the pale skin, sink his fangs into his jugular vein, and drink deeply of that hot, rich, metallic blood. He shook his head sharply to dispell the fantasy. It wasn't time yet. Colin woke slowly. He tried to move, but discovered he was securely tied and hung up in the air. His complaint was muffled by some sort of cloth in his mouth and he shook his head wildly in an attempt to get it out. This movement set him to swaying. Brock heard the noise and turned from where he was standing at the fire. He picked something up from the side of the cave and strolled over. "So, Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up." he sneered, brandishing a short metal rod under Colin's nose threateningly. "I know what you are, were-boy!" Angrily, Colin snarled around the gag and lunged at him, simultaneously trying to shapeshift. Just as his form was beginning to melt and change, something encircling his neck flared to life, burning-hot. He screamed, instantly dropping back to his human form. "Yeah, that's right." taunted Brock, "That's real silver on you. Lucky I had that particular chain on me today." He flung the rod aside and it clattered to the ground, way out of Colin's reach even if he wasn't tied up. "Let's see what we have here." he brought Colin's backpack over from where he'd dropped it earlier. Unzipping the bag, he started digging around, throwing items on the ground as he found them. "Clothes, energy bars, canned soup, dried fruit, water bottle, pot, firestarter, knife, rope, fish-hooks, wallet," he turned the bag upside down, emptying the last bits out of it, "and other random stuff." he finished. Brock picked up the knife and the wallet. "I'll keep these for you, since you won't need them." He flipped the wallet open. "Nice photo. Your family? Forget them, you won't be seeing them again." He extracted the photo from the holder and ripped it to bits, letting the paper sift through his hands and fall to the floor. Colin's eyes followed the paper down, then raised his head to glare at Brock with near-tangible hatred. Shrugging out of his leather jacket, the vampire folded it and laid it to one side. He stalked up to Colin with the knife in hand and with a quick motion, ripped his shirt down the front. Two slashes with the knife and the shirt dropped to the ground, useless. Brock tossed the knife on top of his jacket and pulled his tank top over his head, adding it to the pile. He retrieved the metal rod and hefted it before turning back to Colin. Colin shivered as the cold air hit his exposed skin. He closed his eyes momentarily then opened them to see Brock swinging the pipe at his stomach. He was able to tense his muscles for the first hit. His abs ached from the force of the blow and he gasped for air. Brock reveled in the power he held now. He swung again, harder, hitting exactly the same place. He did this again and again, till Colin was swinging limply in his bonds, chin resting on his chest. Brock stopped and grasped Colin's hair, pulling his head back up. "Not feeling so big now, are you, wolf-boy?" he laughed. "You see these marks?" Brock pointed at his shoulder and side where Colin's teeth and claws had broken the skin during their scuffle. They'd healed already, but the scars would stay for awhile. "You're going to pay for those." He rubbed Colin's abs where it was beginning to turn pink and warm, then drew back his arm and punched him hard in the stomach. All the air whooshed out of Colin's lungs again and he wheezed as he just concentrated on drawing air into his lungs. There was nothing he wanted more now, than to just go home, to his family. Even if they didn't want him. He grunted as Brock pulled his head back more, so that he was looking at the rocky ceiling above him. Now, this was the time. Brock had the satisfying pleasure of tasting the rush of fear and despair coming from his victim. He struck quickly, piercing the skin of Colin's neck and letting his fangs sink straight into the jugular vein. He didn't linger long, taking only the smallest sip then withdrawing and finding a new part of his neck to bite. Not bothering to seal the wounds he created, he moved lower to clamp down on Colin's shoulders, then across his chest, leaving a bloody trail with his lips. He could feel the blood trickling down his neck and chest and pain reverbrated through his entire body. His body was furiously trying to heal itself but the presence of the silver around his neck was taking its toll and his skin knit itself together far slower than usual. Colin barely noticed when Brock stopped and pulled the cloth out of his mouth, covering his mouth with his blood-stained lips for a deep kiss. He didn't really take notice as Brock undid the ropes holding him up in the air, and brought him back down to the ground, carrying him over to the fire. Brock sat down at the fire, holding Colin carefully, and by the firelight, carefully licked each inflicted wound free of blood. He laid Colin on the ground while he cleaned up all traces of his presence. Extinguishing the fire, he put his shirt and leather jacket back on, shouldered Colin's backpack, and picked Colin up once again. He turned and walked deeper into the labyrinth of the cave that was his home, carrying his new pet, just as the sun broke the horizon and shed its morning light on the entrance of the cave. Vampire Meets Werewolf Ch. 02 Brock navigated the dark, labyrinth tunnels of the mountain with ease. Even without the aid of light, he knew where he was going. He kept walking and some time later, the light at the end of the tunnel emerged as a faint white glow around the edges of a door. Brock made a strange flicking motion with his free hand and the door swung itself open on noiseless hinges, revealing a large spacious cavern. In the center of the room, there rested a large, rough-hewn wooden table. The vampire laid down his burden and went to a smaller, adjoining room where he picked up a small black box of polished obsidian, handling it with care. Brock brought the box back with him to the main atrium, where Colin still lay, motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. He opened the lid of the box to reveal its glimmering contents. Brock pulled out a handful of silver chains, each handcrafted and custom made to his idea of perfection. He pushed Colin's limp body into position, then stretched out his arms and legs, encircling each limb with a length of silver, which was in turn, clipped to a ring in the table. Each chain was then pulled taut, effectively stretching the werewolf into a x-shape. Taking a step back, Brock admired his handiwork, his eye lingering amusedly over Colin's ribs, where bruises from his earlier beating were already starting to show. Pulling up a chair at the head of the table, Brock sat down with a book while he waited for Colin to wake. About an hour later, the vampire noticed a slight change in his captive's breathing pattern and heard slight noises, as if he were quietly testing his bonds. Without looking up from his book, Brock commented dryly, "I wouldn't move too much if I were a lycan with broken ribs draped in silver." Colin made as if he were going to twist around to look for the vampire, but cut himself short and lay still with a yelp. Smiling to himself, Brock finished the page he was reading and marked it before setting it aside and sauntering over to lean over the table. Colin was concentrating on his breathing, making his breaths as shallow as possible. Brock raised his arm so Colin could see it. "You're hurting right now." he stated. "I can heal you. Drink some of my blood." He leaned in closer, "I can make your pain go away." Colin gathered himself and spat at him. The vampire jerked back and wiped the spittle off his cheek with a quick swipe of his hand. He looked at his fingers with consideration. "If that's the way it's going to be..." he said slowly. He laid a hand on Colin's bare chest, smirking at his futile attempts to squirm away. "I can heal myself." Colin snarled, "Take these damn chains off and I won't even need any of your precious blood, you bloodsucking parasite." He lunged at his tormentor. The effort caused pain to flare along his ribs. He ignored it, falling back only when his muscles gave out on him. "Poor you." The vampire mocked him. "Remember, I can fix this." He applied more pressure to the lycan's chest until he could feel the bones bending. Colin growled low in his throat, defiantly glaring at him. Taking that as a direct challenge, he pushed harder, till he felt something snap. Colin's face went sheet-white. "Stop. Please." "Well....?" Brock could almost taste his triumph. He gave an extra shove, just for good measure. Colin snapped his mouth shut with a click. He was gritting his teeth so hard he wondered if he might break his teeth. Brock made as if he were going to give his ribs another shove and involuntarily, the words came pouring out of his mouth. "Alright, alright! I'll do it! Please stop, please don't do it again, I'll do whatever you want just stop hurting me!" A smile broke out on the vampire's face and Brock traced his finger lightly over Colin's jaw. "That's a good boy, exactly what I wanted to hear." He fondly stroked Colin's hair briefly, then gripped his lower jaw. "I want you to open your mouth, and keep it open." He used a knife to make a small cut along one of his veins. The vampire raised his arm and dripped the blood into Colin's open, panting mouth. Colin struggled with keeping his stomach settled as the blood dripped. He'd heard all kinds of rumors about the properties of vampire blood. Healing was one of them, but there was talk that it was highly addictive, that it might turn people into vampires, that the blood would act as a sexual stimulant, that it might... The blood was starting to leak out the corners of Colin's mouth. "Let's see you swallow, dog-boy." Brock muttered, watching Colin closely. The wound on his wrist was already beginning to close itself. Colin took a deep breath, closed his eyes and swallowed. The blood was hot, not cold like he imagined. It burned a hot trail down to his stomach and immediately he felt his bones fusing. It was like someone was holding a welding torch to his bones, then after awhile, like his bones were being immersed in glacier-ice-cold water.His stomach rebelled and tried to throw up the blood, but a strong hand clamped over his jaw, holding his mouth shut. Swallow it ALL." A voice that he must obey. With some effort, Colin forced his stomach to still and opened his eyes. "That's right, I own you now." The hand fondly ruffled his hair. Colin's brain felt fuzzy, he couldn't quite remember what he was doing here, or why he couldn't move, or who this stranger was. "Go to sleep, little puppy." The werewolf's eyelids fluttered, then closed.