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 Out of Bounds

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PostSubject: Out of Bounds   Wed Sep 14, 2011 2:50 pm


The scent of the dungeon was damp and musky; the mold growing enough to choke the strongest of resolve. It was within these pits of dark dank that a figure lanky and veneer rested; he had no fret of choking on grimy mold. Death, thus, had its occassional perk. Of course, this figure wasn't truly dead else he would not be aware of the existing mold, or moving his limbs and thinking.

For what cause did this undead man have for moving and thinking?

Tonight, by moving, he sipped what seemed to be a red wine; though, the wet substance seemed too thick to ever be a proper wine. And the thinking... well, there were many things a man thought of. In this instance, his mind happened to be upon the restless slumber of a maiden three stories above his unpleasant chambers.

The demons of her dreams poked and pried her mind wide, releasing the wretches of pandora's box. Yet, hope still fluttered free. Or, rather, will did. She was strong, willful, mighty and brash. Those demons were soon sent away, abashed by her mere lack of temperment.

He smirked.

His cue had arose and from the depths he rolled through the floors to perch himself quite content in the corner of the room allowing his writhing shadows to take hold of the natural shade of night. As such, he waited.

His second cue was delayed by remaining remnants, lingering ungodly creatures that jabbed at her mind and caused her to rub her eyes. Then, finally, wakefulness and irritation seized in a sudden grasp and demanded reprieve. With a harsh tug and simple click, a small lamp scattered the nuances from the bed. Yet the mind was still bothered.

He entered the scene.

"Sleep evades you better than your demons invade."

The responding glare was icy and hot. It scolded and reprimanded, demanded to be spared mockery; yet, no objection of his presence was pronounced other than the irritation of one who has just woken from a nightmare. "I've no need for your nonsense tonight, vampire."

"I merely wished to ensure your mind was clear so that you may have a fitless sleep, master."

"I need no assistance in sleep."

"Ah, but your tossed sheets and rumbled hair tell otherwise... Or did I intrude upon something pleasantly fitful." The leering smirk was enough cause for a half-hearted launch of a pillow. Sleep was overcoming the irritation.

The smirk advanced as the pillow was returned with a gentle hand. "Does this mean you wish me to join you?"

"Go to hell."

"I've no greater desire..." He paused for a thoughtful moment. "Perhaps, one."

An eyebrow perked in curiousity as the elicitation had hoped to provoke.

"And what desire could that be? Freedom to rampage? Blood... virgin blood, perhaps?" The last remark was a rhetorical question. She knew well that he longed for a mere taste of her chaste red.

"Precisely." Bingo.

"Perhaps; when you learn to behave yourself and let your master sleep."

"Perhaps, now." He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers. His black locks dangling in his eyes; smirk present yet daintier. She did not flinch. Rather, she leaned closer and whispered.

"Perhaps..."

He drew closer.

"... never." She grinned knowing such a claim would cause him to sullen. Or so she had imagined it would in their game; however, instead, he moved closer and rested a hand on her bedsheets.

"Perhaps... I want more."

Her eyes narrowed. It seemed it had come time again for him to test the bounds. Their game had only advanced so due to his incessant pressuring. However, this step may prove too far out of the carefully powdered lines of the playing field.

He saw the annoyance, the looking telling him he was pushing too hard. Yet, he continued. His lust could not be thwarted till it had been shoved by his master's fiery will.

"I've taught you so much, master. So much..." He paused for a moment to rest his hand beside her hip and the other against the wall near her head. His cheek was but a hair's space from hers. "... I could teach you so much more." His voice had forgotten its leer, its seduction and uncouth. Rather, it held a sultry tone, deep and wanting.

She resisted the instinct to shiver. Her expression as steely as ever.

"You have taught me much, servant. I would not be the leader I am today without your guidance. However, the price you pay for being such a good teacher is my unflinching resolve."

He chuckled. Low and steady, at first. Then, it crescendo to a hearty, body wracking laughter. It soon, though, fell to a sardonic grin with eyes burnt with rejection and longing. Though his face was further now so that they could properly glare, his hands remained steadily placed.

"I would not care for my master if she behaved any less, but..." His face was suddenly before her again, tilted as though a lover ready to kiss.

The decay from his mouth wrapped around her lips as he spoke. "... a man can only withhold himself for so long. We are weak unlike our counterparts. And I am weaker than most, for you are the strongest of your kind."

"You are not a man." She whispered onto his lips, her eyes piercing his closed lids.

"I am a monster. I was a man. Within me resides the remnants of that man. Do not think my present state forgets those carnal innate traits."

"Leave."

"You are afraid. Not of the monster, but of the man within."

Her fists clenched. Her eyes squeezed shut in irritation. The bastard. How dare he!

He grinned. He knew he had hit the right vein; had pressured her to the limit. He was so close. So very, very close; but he would never without her word. Instead, he carressed a glove finger across her lip and then tapped her nose with an affectionate look in his otherwise malicious eyes.

Upon feeling the tender touch, she flung her eyes open ready to retaliate only to halt and soften her expression as she met his current, gentler stare. She shook her head and threw another pillow at his figure now across the room before curling under her covers and mumbling, "Good night, Alucard."
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