Dragon Knights Fan Fiction ❯ My Immortal ❯ Necessity ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I'm holding the rights hostage. Leave an unmarked crate of manga, coffee, and chocolate on the north pier by midnight, November the 18th...

 

AN: Oi, the cheeeeeese. Mmm, pepper-jack cheese; does anyone else like pepper-jack cheese...? I'm sleepy, and cold, and I just got shots in both arms yesterday; have pity! In other news, yeah, I can remember being really excited about this chapter as I was writing it, and I guess it does have its good parts. Kharl gets to be all bad-ass for a bit XD And yet... reading it now, if I wasn't so fond of it, I'm afraid I'd probably find some parts really corny... Oh well; there are a lot of interesting new developments even so, so I hope at least some people will enjoy it :) And speaking of, oh my goodness! (blush) I feel, like, special or something. I can't believe how well this old thing has been received so far. I hope it remains as popular...? Love and hugs, ya'll!

 

Schnickledooger: Hee, you're not the only person who thought that killing off some of the characters so soon was bold. Don't worry, plenty more people will die before the story is over; that's one of the things I like about it XD (sadistic, me...?) I'm glad no one has been mad at me over that so far... Incidentally, your question about Nadil will be answered in this chapter - well, he's nothing as exciting as the vampire lord, though at least he has attained some kind of leadership position... I probably toyed with the idea of him being the vampire lord at some point, but I'm glad I didn't - especially when it's so obvious that the readers think of it! Can't have that, hee... Also, I'm glad you like my serious scenes; it's the other way around for me, it's virtually impossible for me to write straight comedy T.T

 

Ronin-N-Gang: (blushie) She likes my style... you sure know what to say to a girl XDD Considering that I'm one of those silly tortured artists who tends to obsess over style and forsake plot... As for it being surprising that Saabel was one of the boys beating on Rath - well, recall that this was written a year or so ago, heh. Probably only a couple books about him had come out at that point; I certainly didn't know about his secret past yet... Ah well; at least I killed him off quickly enough to stop it from becoming a major problem XD And I'm super glad that you mentioned 'Fakcy-kun, because it happens that he does make a small appearance - though it was only for one chapter, I enjoyed writing him :) I'm gonna write a Kharl/'Fakcy one of these days, really...

 

Aobikari: Thanks for reading! Glad you're still liking it :)

 

Imnotcrazy-really: (waaaves) Hi there! Ah, another fun name ;) I'm glad you like the idea, and think that Rath's IC... I hope Kharl's not too different from how he is in the manga? He's just so hard to figure out; one minute it's slapstick comedy, and the next he's all dark and evil-like... I guess this Kharl is kind of a mix, or something, maybe...? Heh...

 

Astarte: Eeie! XD People with cool names just flock to this story, it seems... (composes self) In any case, I'm glad you like it, and I hope I didn't take too terribly long (I know, could've been faster, I'm bad, eh heh...).

 

Yoko Jaganshi: Yay, another new person! Thanks for all the reviews right off the bat! I'm glad you like my character descriptions - cus with such great material to work with, they're fun to write XD - and that you think it's all holding together well so far. And don't worry, the killing of canon characters has only begun; in fact, there's another one this chapter! (evil, evil sadist...) Sorry if my summary is corny (I already know my title is, heh), but at least it seems to be doing its job if you're reading this ;) Hope my update didn't take too long!

 

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Chapter Four: Necessity

 

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There were places he could go, but they weren't nearly so friendly anymore. News traveled fast among the undead community, after all.

 

That night, a little less than a week later, in the dark and musty but very lively bar, Kharl was like a tiny island surrounded by a vast and particularly tense ocean of quiet. The bartender was the only one brave enough to venture into it, and only when it was absolutely necessary. He sipped pigs' blood, the 'only' drink among the modern vampires, and grimaced. Their blood had been... better...

 

It had probably been too soon to try coming here again. He was hoping that his presence would eventually assure them that it was all just a fluke. It had been a big shock when one of the leaders of the modern movement had disobeyed the first rule, twice in a row, for no apparent reason. But he'd had a good reason! ...Really...

 

What was it about Rath that made him want to protect him? There was really nothing special about the boy. The most unique thing about him was that he was a bloody murderer. And yet he had been willing to do a great deal of damage to his reputation, pristine for centuries, not to mention the fact that what he'd done had been like the human equivalent of suddenly breaking down and smoking a whole pack of cigarettes after years of thinking he'd kicked the habit. It would take ages to get over it, possibly quite literally.

 

Why had he done something so stupid? Why? Why...

 

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It was becoming almost a relief to visit Rath. It was strange, but for a while he was going to have to get used to being treated more normally by humans than by his own kind.

 

When he knocked on Rath's door the second Thursday after the 'unfortunate and bizarre deaths of two students of the local high school,' as the newspapers were saying, no one answered. He frowned, and after hesitating a moment, let himself in.

 

Rath lay sprawled out on his bed, covered in junk as it was, breathing gently. 'Sprawled' was definitely the word; he looked like he hadn't meant to fall asleep. He still had his shoes on (despite never-ending efforts of the servants to get him to leave them at the door) and the strap of his back-pack, which was resting against the bed, dangled from his fingertips. Kharl smiled. Aw... What a slob.

 

"Rath?" he said quietly. When that didn't work he knelt down, shaking him gently. "Rath, time to wake up..." Hmm, where had he seen this before? He shivered, pushing that thought away.

 

Rath's eyes fluttered open, and after a moment he laughed. "Kharl? What time is it?"

 

"Four fifteen."

 

He scoffed. "You're kidding." He sat up, shaking his head to clear it. "Wow, I guess I... fell asleep."

 

"Late night?" Kharl said conversationally, getting up and dropping his bags on the desk.

 

Rath frowned. "No. It was kind of a long day..." He yawned hugely.

 

"Ah..." Why didn't I just become a psychiatrist in the first place and get it over with? "What happened?"

 

"Oh, you know... People are still talking..." In that disturbing way of his, Rath was suddenly serious. "You believe that I didn't kill Saabel and Fedelta, don't you?"

 

Kharl could have laughed out loud. "Of course I do," he said, with feeling. "Here; I brought more cookies."

 

Rath eyed the box warily. "Home-made?"

 

This time Kharl did allow himself to laugh. He was actually a very good cook when he tried, but he tended to get carried away with experimenting... "You know me too well. No, they're safe; I bought them at this little pastry shop off 7th, you ought to go there sometime..." Rath yawned again. "How about I make some coffee?"

 

Rath agreed, so Kharl went down to the kitchen and put some coffee on. The servants had gotten used to him doing things himself by now; it wasn't that he'd never had servants, but these days being waited on made him uncomfortable. 'After all,' he thought wryly, 'it's been a few centuries... as my associates are so courteously reminding me...'

 

He stared out the window into the misty drizzle. They'd been calling for a chance of sleet or even snow, but so far the rain didn't seem to be letting up. It looked like winter was nearly over; spring would be starting soon. 'Poor Rath... Spring break would do him some good right now, though of course all the gossip will have probably died down by then no matter how nasty it is at the moment...' Kharl sighed, turning away. 'Hopefully the society will have calmed down by then too. I'd just better be on my best behavior...'

 

No killing or Turning, except in extreme circumstances, that was the first rule. He should know; he'd help set them out. Second, keep a low profile. Don't let anyone find out what you were without gaining permission from the Council first, because if word leaked out, well, there would be a spike of first rule infringements, that was for sure. It was well understood that vampires and humans could never peacefully coexist unless the humans didn't know they were doing it, and anyone who thought otherwise was severely reprimanded. Those were the basic guidelines, though of course there were plenty of other details such as not revealing the location of gathering spots to mortals, agreeing to take 'new' vampires under your wing if called upon to do so, etc., etc...

 

The coffee finished. Kharl arched an eyebrow as the coffee maker made a small beeping noise; how disgustingly rich of them... He poured two cups, putting milk in Rath's and great heaps of sugar in his, and carried them back up to the room.

 

As most people do, it was only then that he realized he couldn't get into the room with his hands full. Sweatdrop. He nudged it with his foot experimentally; ugh, no, he'd latched it. “Rath? Rath? I've got the coffee...” Silence. “Rath...?” He sighed, setting his cup on the floor and opening the door.

 

...Good gods. Rath had at least made it to his desk before he'd fallen back to sleep, though this made it that much more incredible that he now looked like he'd been asleep for hours. “Rath?” He set Rath's cup down next to his head. “I'm not drinking that, you know; I hate milk.”

 

Nothing. 'It's worse for him, really,' Kharl mused, pulling up a chair. 'I can avoid the society if I want. He has to go to school every day. I might as well let him sleep.' He pulled the backpack over to his side of the desk, and quietly got to work.

 

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Hmm... The formula was first formulated - oh, wait, that sounds bad. Discovered? Do you 'discover' formulas? Invented? Damn, I've lost the word... Kharl sighed, and set the pencil down. Ooh, my head. I shouldn't be doing this. It doesn't really need done today; I should leave him some... He smiled slightly. Rath was still deep asleep, his head nestled in his arms. With a jolt, Kharl realized the sun was setting already. Well, it got dark early in winter, after all. He needed to be more careful, though; if he didn't hurry he might have to Change in an alley, and that was never fun...

 

He felt a little bad about leaving the boy like that, though. He would wake up feeling like he'd hardly gotten any rest at all if he slept in such an awkward position. Should he carry him to bed? That might wake him up, though. He hesitated a moment, then shrugged to himself. Well, he might as well try.

 

He carefully disentangled Rath from the desk, marveling at how light he was. He'd noticed before what long, slender limbs he had, almost like a girl's, but seriously. Did he eat at all? He held his breath when Rath made a small noise in his arms, but he didn't wake up, so he laid him gently on the bed and pulled the messy covers over him as best he could. He looked so much more peaceful than he'd ever seen him while he was awake, despite the slightest hint of a fading black eye...

 

Not quite sure why he did so, he knelt down and kissed him on the cheek. “Sleep well...” Then he turned and gathered up his belongings and left, perhaps just a little hurriedly.

 

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To Kharl, the night had always been beyond description with mere words. It was ancient and dangerous and powerful and utterly exhilarating to be a part of, but really, that didn't say much. The past seemed a lot closer at night.

 

Of course, the nature of the night had changed over the past few years. The humans with their fancy guns and bright lights thought they were safe from the night, and they had made some impressive improvements. They'd killed most of the simpler creatures that hunted them, for instance. Most impressive. The vampires only left them alone out of pity, however. The night was still out there; it had just been forgotten for the moment. It lay dormant.

 

And then of course there was one other hunter the humans couldn't exterminate, and that was each other. Now that they'd run out of natural enemies, they squabbled amongst themselves. The vampires learned to cope with their nature by controlling it, smothering it. The humans shook hands with it. Maybe it would be better, after all, if they still had the night to keep themselves busy.

 

The tallest building in the city was some nameless office complex. Kharl preferred not to contemplate the statement that made, enjoying the view instead. Why did the humans fight each other? Why did one human having slightly more than another irritate them so much? It was so very complicated. But more importantly, why did a bright, thoughtful kid like Rath have to get sucked into it...?

 

He considered this notion for a moment, mildly surprised. Since when had Rath become a bright, thoughtful kid? Well, he was bright, there was no denying that. But last he'd checked, Rath had officially been The Brat.

 

A lot of things associated with Rath had been surprising him lately. The 'bizarre and unfortunate' murders, for one thing. And the boy had such strange mood swings sometimes. It was often a challenge to guess what he'd do next, and Kharl wasn't used to being challenged by a mortal. And then there had been that... kiss...

 

Kharl shifted his weight uncomfortably. He shouldn't make such a big thing out of it. It'd just been a quick kiss on the cheek, like an older brother might do. Of course, the fact that he was making a big thing out of it was cause to make a big thing out of it. Was it possible that he was becoming somehow attached to the boy?

 

He really shouldn't do that. That was another guideline of the new society - try to avoid becoming attached to mortals. It didn't matter if you loved them like a friend, like a family member, or in a romantic way; you just shouldn't. Because sooner or later you'd want to tell them what you were, and even though permissions could be obtained, the less people who knew, the better. And then there was the problem that mortals were, simply put, mortal.

 

Finding that the subject was fast becoming uncomfortable, Kharl stepped off the edge of the building. A moment later his wings caught an upward current and pulled him far over the city.

 

Of course, it was only a guideline...

 

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It was only a few hours till dawn. He ought to head home, he knew. He could have been there right now, enjoying a nice drink and a book or something. It would have been most relaxing. But instead he was here, and feeling mildly concerned.

 

For starters, there was the question of why he'd come. What kind of an idiot was he? If anyone in this house saw him, they would recognize him. There would be... talk. Did he really want to see Rath that much?

 

But then there was also... a smell. Even hovering outside the boy's window, he could smell fear, only a few hours old. He could smell someone who wasn't supposed to be there. But most importantly, the strongest scent was blood.

 

Human blood. The smell hypnotized him, drew him closer. Being a vampire, it took his eyes no time to adjust to the deeper darkness of the room on the other side of the glass when he peered in; however, it took a few moments for his drunken senses to register what he was seeing.

 

Rath was gone. There seemed to be signs of a struggle, though of course it was hard to tell for sure in Rath's messy room. Clumsy. Who would risk a struggle in a house crawling with servants, even if they would all be sleeping at this time of night? Also, they'd left the window partway open, which would explain why he could smell the blood so clearly.

 

Kharl sighed. He knew what had to be done. It was stupid, not to mention dangerous. He could be seen; heavens forbid, he could even be seen by Rath. Oh well. It had to be done. He took a deep breath, and followed an invisible trail of blood.

 

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Rath grunted as he was tossed to the floor, and looked around with wide eyes. He would normally be shouting his head off, except his captors had gagged him. The bastards had tied his arms and legs too. What they hadn't done, though, and this worried him, was blindfold him. It followed that they didn't mind him knowing where he was... Which meant they probably weren't planning on him being in a position to be telling anyone about it later...

 

It took him a minute for his eyes to adjust to the light, or lack thereof. But when they did, he wished they hadn't. There had to be at least twenty people in the broken-down old building, keeping just inside the shadows. And what was worse was that someone in there, somewhere, was almost certainly... Then someone spoke.

 

"Ungag him." He knew the voice, and it made him feel rather ill.

 

Rough hands hauled him to his knees, brushed the back of his neck, and the cloth fell to the floor. He spat in disgust, but that was really a lot braver than he felt. Actually, he seemed to be trembling... Nadil stepped forward.

 

He was taller than he remembered him being, though that might have been because he was kneeling down. But it had been four years, after all... He'd grown his hair out longer in the back, too. Rath snorted. "You still dye your hair purple? Don't you know what they say about guys who wear purple?" he asked, with that certain kind of insanity that tends to possess those who know they're about to die.

 

Nadil smirked. "Ah, yes, I do... Still as impudent as ever, aren't you? And here I thought we'd cured you of this. We all had, at least until last week." He leaned down a little. "What got into you, Rath?"

 

Rath glared, but he couldn't quite get up the courage to spit in his face. He seriously thought he was about to be ill. "I didn't kill them, if that's what you mean."

 

For a moment he thought Nadil was going to hit him. But he just scoffed. "But of course you didn't... So who did? You see, we all really want to know."

 

'I have no idea, you fucking bastard! I really don't. And even if I did, it wouldn't matter, because even if I told you, you're still going to kill me, so why should I? And you're even more of a bastard than the last time I saw you, because at least then you didn't have me tied up!' That was what he wanted to say, but he wouldn't have made it to seventeen if he went around saying things like that all the time. Instead he just stared. Did they even have people hidden up in the rafters?

 

I'm going to die...

 

Then Nadil kissed him.

 

I am dying...

 

This was so incredibly nauseating. He wished the thugs who'd brought him here had beaten him just a little more, because then maybe he could have managed to faint. Maybe if he just didn't breathe? Nadil thrust his tongue down his throat, and for a minute he was so preoccupied with the fact that he tasted like smoke that he didn't even notice that the bastard had slipped a hand up his shirt. And his other hand... Somebody...

 

That was about when the screaming started. It was closely followed by gunshots; Nadil jumped; dropped him. "The hell?" he snapped.

 

"I don't know, but - gluk..." There was a suggestion of black, and then a body disappearing up into the rafters. There were two more lying on the floor already. There was a distant scream, and then a moment of silence.

 

"Shit!" Twenty-some guns were let loose at the ceiling. By about this time Rath had managed to drag himself behind a crate, and was sawing at his restraints with a bit of broken glass.

 

A handful of seconds of deafening noise was followed by a little more silence. Rath barely had time to wonder whether they'd gotten it, whatever the hell it was, and whether he could get his ankles free before they remembered him, when there was another scream. This was followed by several people dodging as two bodies fell rather a long way to the ground. Rath heard someone being sick somewhere.

 

At this point, he was completely focused on leaving. He was quite certain that it would be in his best interests to leave. Except that he couldn't, on account of everyone else leaving. Nadil was screaming at them for running away, but after a few moments his screams stopped having words to them, then stopped altogether. With their leader gone, the gang was like a herd of panicky sheep. A few more disappeared in an upward blur before they finally made it out, scrambling through any door or broken window they could get to.

 

Rath felt like he'd swallowed lead. Whatever it was, he was alone with it now.

 

Maybe if he just stayed here for a little while and was extremely quiet, it'd go away? Everything was certainly quiet now. A few scraps of black stuff drifted down from the dark roof, and it was only later that he realized they were feathers.

 

Then something else fell from the ceiling. For a moment he thought it was another body, but he was pretty sure that none of Nadil's comrades had had giant black wings... He ducked down before it even touched the ground.

 

And for a moment he just stayed there, not breathing. He should have left with the others. He would definitely take them over this thing; he would pay to take them over this thing... And then he heard it inhale deeply, as if it were trying to smell something...

 

Oh great, so I really am going to die...

 

He could hear it walking towards him, and the funny thing was that, now that he was untied, he couldn't do anything about it. When Nadil had been kissing him he would have punched him if he could, despite feeling sick - he knew he would have, because he'd been struggling with all his might - but somehow, now, he couldn't move. Why was that? he wondered, with that certain kind of calmness - and insanity - that tends to possess those who know they're about to die. Was it because he really couldn't do anything this time? What kind of an excuse was that? He glanced sideways. It was a pretty big shard of glass, when you thought about it...

 

He leapt up just as the footsteps reached the other side of the crate. His hand was already halfway to the creature's face before his tired brain kicked in. Well, it wasn't entirely his fault; the face looked a bit different than the way it usually looked. It was even paler than usual, for one thing, which he hadn't thought would have been possible. Also, there was a little bit of blood at the corner of its mouth, matching perfectly the hazy red sheen over its eyes... And there were fangs. And something of a crazed look... "Kharl?"

 

Kharl stared at him. Rath almost ran away right there, which would have led to him eventually convincing himself that he'd had a concussion or something, and Kharl would come to tutor him again in a few days and he wouldn't say anything because Rath didn't say anything, either, and magically, it wouldn't have happened. Eventually he'd probably even forget about it. But he stayed just a moment longer - maybe out of... concern... - and suddenly he wasn't staring at Kharl's fangs any more because they were pressed against his lips.

 

And again, he couldn't move. It was like being tied up again, only it wasn't because Kharl wasn't as rough somehow. He held the back of his head so gently that he almost could have forgotten about the three-inch claws touching his ear, and he kissed him gently too, almost like a cat lapping up... blood...?

 

And then he jerked away, so fast that Rath almost fell over the crate because of the sudden lack of support. The haze in his eyes was gone, he noted; they were back to their weird blue color. Also, they looked horrified. Rath had never put Kharl down as the type to get ruffled, but his hand was over his mouth in a perfect expression of profound shock, and he thought he heard him say something like 'Oh gods...' In a daze he raised a hand to his own mouth; he was bleeding. Maybe it had happened when Nadil dropped him?

 

Kharl turned abruptly to go; still in a kind of hypnotized way, Rath reached out and grabbed a handful of feathers. Kharl made a muffled squeaking sound as a few came off in his hand, and Rath stared at them. "Kharl? ...Fuck..."

 

Kharl hesitated. Things might have turned out a lot differently if he'd run, too. But instead he laughed weakly. "Such language..."

 

Rath stared at his hand. Those feathers were huge. "So... You're a vampire?"

 

Kharl sighed. "Yes."

 

"And you're not gonna kill me?"

 

"Of course not!"

 

Rath smiled. And fainted.

 

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For the second time in the last few days, Kharl lay the boy gently down on his bed. Damn, he was still bleeding... But it didn't look too bad, and anyway, he didn't trust himself to do anything about it. Anything good, anyway.

 

He sighed. He expected to spend the rest of the night contemplating the exact meaning of 'hell to pay.' One of the good things about being undead, the society wasn't going to be able to actually kill him. But he was quite certain that they were going to try.

 

As he turned to go, he felt another tug on his wing. It was gentler this time. "Kharl?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Why did you kiss me?"

 

Kharl didn't hesitate a moment. "It was the blood. I'm sorry."

 

Rath smiled again, and drifted peacefully off. Kharl left, and even closed the window behind him.

 

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AN: Moowaha. ...And that's pretty much all I have to say for myself, heh. Okay, so it was a pretty bad ending, but at least - (cackles like the crazed yaoi fangirl she is). Review, and there shall be more kissy stuff in the next chapter! Okay, so there probably would be anyway, but if you review, er, maybe I'll get it out faster...?