Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodlust ❯ Lord Work ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

AN: Woohoo! Another chapter.. I'm thinking of another story.. But I doubt it will come to as much fame as to anything else I write.. But it's more down-to-earth, yet still crazy in a supernatural way that I always love.. I do better on down-to-earth-almost-essay writings anyway.. I don't know why I persist in the supernatural, hahaha.



Lord Work


It's unquestionable that I have sexual appeal. Hell, my name, Duo fucking Maxwell, screams I'm hot. Not only that, but I have my hair trailing down to my ass, a great smile, and a body toned by the gym and a military career. I'm even better when I'm relaxing in a tub, releasing smidgen amounts of energy. Now, finishing my bath and drying my bountiful hair, I had the room steaming with the heat and my own power.

So why in the hell had Heero, for seven minutes, stared only at his watch!? Was he a rock?

"Hey, Heero," I said. We were walking down a much wider corridor than the one to the Fun Room, the carpet thin, and it was full of grotesque pictures not much unlike the bodies decorating my ceiling. The smell of corpses lined the hallways, for they were arranged in a long line in relatively calm poses, heads down forward, as if asleep on their chests. Bet the servants were feeling at odds having them strewn around.

"Hn," he answered finally, sort of.

"What do you like to do for fun?"

He gave me a quick glance, or more like a quick evil glare. I couldn't quell the shudder.

"Want me to say I like to fuck?"

"Now, now." I chuckled a little. "Of course that's what I'm asking! If there's anything you would like to add, feel free." Searching his face, I found there was nothing to reveal. He was a rock.

Heero abruptly changed the subject, "You were part of the three-hundred fifty-fifth regiment of the late Lord Maxwell's division, correct?"

I glared at him; he glared back much more efficiently. I threw up the white flag.

"Yea, I was, Mr. Bodyguard. What's it to you?" Excuse me if I'm a little peeved; this feels like a rejection, but I'm not sure. I've never been rejected.

"There's a Red Dragon survivor." I stopped. "He's capping the regiment one after another. From the pace he's going, and if he keeps up his pattern of south-east-west-south kills, he'll be here in a little under two weeks. Just wanted to give you the heads up that you might be facing a duel against him. Mainly, he's looking for Death, who I have researched and determined to be you."

Oh, shit. How could he act so calmly, talking as if nothing's wrong? The Dragon dude wouldn't be here for another two weeks, but we're talking about the Red Dragon Clan. These guys were neutral during the war, and believe me, it would have behooved the night beasts to leave them alone. They were a multicultural group worshipping their gods in peace and training. There were two ways to join the clan after you meet the necessary requirements. One, you could be born into it, or two, your skills could be of some use to the Clan. People planning to go into this clan are like the humans who plan to join an Ivy League school. If you can't summon a Supreme Level demon spirit- like I can, easily, but don't tell anyone that- you can consider yourself sticking to your own Order.

Now what does the Red Dragon Clan got to do with me? Well, during the war, the three-hundred and fifty-fifth regiment, along with a dozen or more divisions, attacked all sides of the Red Dragon Clan's territory- it was 'you're too strong to be left alone' sort of thing. This clan barely had five thousand people, against our however many people, just a lot more. It was a three-day battle with the only survivors being a small part of the three-hundred and thirty-second, who all died later of wounds and poisons, and half my group because they put me in first. Supposedly, the Red Dragon Clan had been destroyed down to the last man.

I'm a natural in fighting. Summoning small demons are my specialty, as well is transforming, not into a wolf, but a large version of what I am now. It's really vague because I have never seen myself in a mirror when I have transformed, and shadows are not all that good to go by. There's wings on my back, and my nails and hair grow.. Other than that, like how my face looks, I'm not too sure. Anyway, it was nearly eight years since then.

After I got tired out during the battle, the rest of them finished the Red Clan off, or so we thought, while getting killed in the process. It was our orders to kill everyone there, women, old people, and children, or else they'll spring up like weeds and kill everything we have planted.

But now a ranging avenger, picking off our people like flowers, was making his way to me, Death. I didn't know my codename streched outside the regiment. That would be pretty cool if the only one who knew it wasn't part of the Red Dragon Clan. And Heero, but he hardly counts.

"I could help you hone your skills, if you want, Lord Maxwell."

Looking around, there was no one to account for the voice that so gently offered help. So Heero must have said it. I bet this was a one in a lifetime deal.

"That will be great. Seriously." Maybe he did have a small, small, small heart deep, deep, deep inside that chest of his.

Suddenly Hilde sped around the corner, glaring at Heero then at me.

"You have so much to do! I told Heero-" Now she shot a glare back at Heero, "-to get you two hours ago!"

So he was in my room for two hours? And he just let me sleep and fuck? Yea, he was a nice guy.

"And then I told him I was busy," I said, letting all the inclinations fall in. Hilde must have understood because she flushed (from anger or embarassment) and seized me by the hand. She held me like a little kid until we came to the lobby- I have no idea where we came from. Directions are not my forte. Gotta get Trowa or some other servant to draw me a detailed map- all the way to the color of the carpet and distinctions on the wall.

Hilde shoved me onto a chair at the center point of a wall covered in even more hideous pictures; the wall was actually a prominent area of a rounded room, probably the lobby. She had me sitting in a desk with several quills- ugh- ink, parchment, a relatively normal list of names, and other ancient objects for writing. All around me stood hundreds of bruised, cut, and scarred servants and slaves- all wearing nothing or essentially naked, and heads touching the floor in a kowtow. The only ones not doing so were Hilde, Heero, and my newfound main dame Catherine. She gracefully walked to me, her feet barely touching the marble floor, still wearing the robes of yesterday.

"Good evening, Master," she said all formal like. "May we have a feast to commemorate your first day as Lord Maxwell?"

Food sounded real good; but then I remembered my father and thought about what the hell he would be eating. "What do we have?"

She grinned. "Do not worry, sir. We have plenty game in our land. Will domes of venison suit you?"

"Hell, yea. You can give me horse. I'll eat it. But... I think you should change your clothes, alright?"

Catherine giggled, nodding, and with a sly look leaned over to sniff me. "Have you and my brother done it already? Surely it went as well for him as it did for you?"

"Or else you would chop my dick off right?"

"And your tongue and shove a butcher knife in your ass," she retorted, sweet as sugar, clearly in a good mood. Several slaves gasped at her language and the implied- well, candid threat. Some had lifted their heads to see maybe her severed head fly into the ceiling or some other craziness. But I waved her off, noting that I must treat Trowa like glass. She bowed, flashed her silver eyes at the other slaves, and walked to the hall I guessed would lead to the kitchen or her room.

One of the slaves couldn't take the suspense, crying out, "Are you going to have one of us take her place?"

"You idiot, now he's going to get you!" said a girl beside him. "And you spoke without permission."

"So have you!" He had a look of pure terror that made me feel uneasy. "She's farther in the line than I am. Kill her."

I needed to straighten this out; it's already getting out of hand. Plus, their fear had tiny bits of bile leaping up my throat- I felt like a murderer. They had not just plain fear, but concentrated, shaking souls fear.Unless they did some horrible shit, I didn't want a single servant- who I noticed were further in the back wearing black ribbons on their wrists- or slave to feel like this ever again. So I stood up; they shrunk back.

Hilde whispered a warning in my ear. "I know you don't like the same kinds of things your father did, but just remember: not one slave would have dared betray him because they feared him."

I whispered back, albeit confidently,"Well, none of them would betray me because they will love me." Now I spoke to the masses, "I'm not going to kill or maim her or anyone for her." Someone gasped in shock. "When you come in the night and cut off my tongue- for no reason- or lead me into a trap for the Royals or the Order, then I will fucking kill you."

They looked at me like I had three heads, and one of them didn't have a nose.

"Are you serious?"

I sighed. "Of course I am."

Now they looked at each other. The same girl now asked, "Then.. What are we supposed to do?"

"Uh.. What do you usually do?"

Again, the nervous skitterish looks. This time the boy said, "We usually wait our turn. Mr. Maxwell and his children will have us in a line and torture us one by one until it was time to sleep again."

Shouldn't have asked, but my curiousity was getting the best of me. "And the servants?"

"They hang up or shape or shrink the corpses."

Really shouldn't have asked.

"Speaking of which, my poor subjects-"

"Did you hear that? He called us subjects!"

A scillant of desire sparked somewhere, and I continued, "These corpses have to go. The pictures- anything that looks like death, I don't want in my sight. We'll leave the Fun Room for last. Alright?"

"Yes, master," everyone called in unision, with alacrity they probably didn't even know they had. I felt proud of myself. Bunch of little darlings looking so happy.

"What about your customers?"

"Customers?" I asked; Hilde snapped to attention. Giving a glance at her pale stricken face, I knew this was something important she forgot to tell me.

Most of the servants and pets were already eagerly setting up ladders, bags, nets, and carts from various locations to gather dead bodies. Some whispered excitedly, others shyly throwing me glances. Altogether it was a better mood than the macabre curtain that was up before. The more outgoing pets, the two that had been talking, came up to me personally to explain, while Hilde found a group of servants much more interesting than looking at us.

"You have customers to rent us as well, Master Maxwell. They pay you about twenty grand a night," said the girl. "You get nearly a hundred customers each night."

"What did the ol' dude do with the money?"

The boy grinned anxiously. "He bought more slaves, sir. But it's alright. Most customers wouldn't go as far as the old Maxwell did. And seriously, we didn't mind it as long as it wasn't our turn with the Maxwell family."

"Is prostitution my only means of income?" She nodded. "Crap, I can't make you guys do this..."

"Why not?" the girl asked, genuinely perplexed. The boy looked the same.

Maybe she was a bit slow. "Do you still want to be a prostitute....uhhh..."

"Oh, my name's Bell, Master."

"Louis."

"Yea, Bell, Louis," I said. "You don't mind?"

Bell cocked her head to the side. "Vampires and part-vampires choose to be slaves, Master. Don't you know that? If we land in a good house, all we have to do is lay around until our masters choose to have sex with us or sell us to a new master. Pretty easy living unless, of course, you're coming to the Maxwells, but I'm glad. You seem cool." Her desire was spiking.

And I felt a bit thirsty again, and, since they were my slaves and all, I advanced towards Bell and cocked her head back. Passionate puffs of energy left her as my lips descended to hers. Both our mouths already open, I dipped my tongue inside hers and began to drink her desire. It wasn't as exciting as Trowa- and I briefly wondered why- but it good enough. The bustle of noise slowed down, which probably meant we became their cynosure for the moment until we stopped kissing. Then I kissed Louis, who tasted better, probably because I prefer guys.

"Mmm... Thank you master," Louis purred, separating our bodies. "We will go do our duties now.."

Aww, he was glowing. The whole atmosphere was good. Already there was great improvement on the removal of the dreary corpses, and I thanked Fate that none of these slaves minded being prostitutes- it's bad enough to be hated, but even worse to be hated and broke. I'll have a guilt trip, later.

"I think I'll go see Trowa," I offered to myself, but Hilde grabbed me by the hand, again, and shoved me into the seat, again, and gave me a glare....again. I had the sudden notion that maybe I should hold a contest between her and Heero, to see who glares the most.

"I haven't even told you what I needed you to do," she growled, making that womanly 'I've been ignored' face, which means she stared straight at you. Men usually look somewhere else. Then she stabbed the list of names and whistled a rapid gamut, and bats flew from somewhere down yet another hall. They hooked themselves onto the remaining corpses.

"You, Lord Maxwell, will write a letter to every last family that attended the Kushrenada's party last night," she commanded, putting down a slip of parchment and warming up some wax over a tiny fire. "You made a big scene and insulted the family."

I snorted. "Yea, I must've wounded their pride. Can't imagine how they'll get over it."

"You're going to kiss ass, that's how they'll get over it," she said smartly. "Just snap your fingers to get a bat and they'll know where to send it. Please don't ask me how, they just do. Make sure to tell them the name of the family."

Hilde shoved a quill into my hand. The way I see it, I could not do this and help the slaves move cadavers, or I do this and probably get back to Trowa. No trouble there. I pulled up the list of names- ugh, too long- and noticed Treize's name apart from his family. Hilde saw me.

"He really does like you, Duo," Hilde said softly, "The last time he had a conversation with anyone other than his family was three months ago when his father forced him to speak to Princess Lady Une. Even then, he couldn't keep a conversation longer than ten seconds."

"You think a personal letter would mend the fact I called him a wolf?"

"Doesn't hurt to try." We were silent for a moment before she said, "I'll take care of any customers I can. So be good,"-She must like saying that-"and do your work."

I started on the Barton family and I had the gut feeling- it's one of my secret powers I think- this had something to do with Trowa and Catherine. I should ask them now, but Hilde was already on top of me.

"And don't you dare," she called, on the other side of the lobby now, pointing an accusative finger, "try to see Trowa until you are done!"

"What if I have a question?"

"Not until you're done!" And she walked off.

I wrote:

I'm sorry but not really sorry. My aide is making me do this when I want to have sex. Bye.

Of course I threw it away, but that pretty much summed up the next few hours until Hilde, the opposite of the authoritave she was before, came timidly to my side saying Lord Barton was here.