Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Matter Of Choice ❯ Awakening ( Chapter 6 )

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

Demetriov finally sees clearly for the first time in years and tries to make up for his past actions. But is it too little too late?

Disclaimer: This is an original work that has been in progress for nine years. While I have taken inspiration from a number of sources, the characters and plot line are entirely my own. Anyone wishing to use my characters must contact me for permission FIRST.

In later chapters there will be graphic violence, gore and scenes of a sexual nature - both homo and hetero sexual. There will also be character death. I am not responsible if you do not read this disclaimer and do not like the graphic content.

Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Horror / Hentai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.26.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 194 | Status: Work In Progress

Awakening

Demetriov woke as the sun was setting. He lay waiting for the sun to set fully. He found himself waking earlier and earlier as the years passed. The thought brought nothing but apathy. He lay in the same chest as he had lain in on that fateful night that Avéa had made him a vampire. He felt the hunger already and along with it came the shame. The desire to kill was abhorrent. The guilty pleasure that came with every death that he wrought.

He shook off the thought and pushed back the lid of his chest and rose. As usual Avéa had already risen. He looked around him and found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. They had moved on countless times to his knowledge, but she had always told him when they were going to change hunting ground. Avéa was standing in the middle of the room. She was grinning, her eyes wild, excited and agitated.

“We've moved on.” He said flatly.

“He's here, he's here!” She whispered excitedly.

“We've moved on. You never told me. Why?”

His tone was flat and cold. Emotionless tinged with annoyance at her failure to inform him of events. He hadn't heard a word she had said. He never did anymore, and she was evidently too excited to hear him now.

“He's here don't you see.” She clung to his clothes.

Demetriov realised she wasn't listening and grabbed her arm cruelly.

“Why have we moved on?” He demanded of her, terror waking in her eyes.

“I didn't know, I swear I didn't know! I didn't know he would be here till yesterday. I made the arrangements while you hunted. I couldn't have told you, I didn't know! Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry, please don't hurt me!”

“Who is here? What are you fussing about woman?” Demetriov was alarmed.

He had never seen her like this. He let go of her, dropping her to the floor. When did she get like this?

“The hunter.” She whispered. “He is here.”

“What is all this excitement about?” He was bewildered.

He felt strange. He felt like he was waking up.

“He will save me, yes he will!” She cried excitedly.

“What are you on about? What is there to save you from?”

“Eternity.” She sighed sadly. “Cold and empty eternity. You were supposed to look after me, yes you were! I made you and then you died. No Demetriov any more. Dead inside.”

Demetriov had heard enough of this nonsense. “I'm going to feed.”

Avéa started to cry. He looked back at her piteous figure. For a moment he felt something other than his own pain.

“I loved you.” She wept. “I taught you, lived for you, but you still died inside. Empty, dark and empty. I lost you! I lost you.” Her voice tailed off into a whisper.

All of a sudden she let out a screech of anguish, her voice piercing the night.

“ENOUGH!”

He hit her hard across the face. He felt a pang of fear. If the hunter was in the vicinity, he didn't want him to find them. As she lay weeping blood tears he felt regret. He shouldn't have done that. He looked at her with new eyes, seeing her properly for the first time in a while, seeing her pain. He didn't know how he could have been so blind. He knelt beside her, ashamed of his neglect in her hour of need. He lifted her into his arms and held her.

“There now.” He whispered into her hair. “I'm sorry.”

He thought about what she had said, and his new awareness of the world around him. He had been lost in these years since his change. Lost in his own pain, his self-loathing. They had been dark years, plagued with nightmares, memories and voices. The terrible voices, whispering to him in the depths of sleep, taunting and torturing his already torn soul. Then there was the hunger; he was a slave to the blood, the need all-consuming, filling his thoughts night and day. He was also slave to the pleasure that came with it, his only surcease from pain, and yet was the cause of it.

But there was also a beast deep inside; one that said just taking what he needed wasn't enough, but wanted blood at any cost, trying to make him lose himself in bloody ecstasy as he tore apart his victims. It came to him in the darkest of nightmares, but never once had he given in, never once let it overwhelm him. Over time it had faded and he was left in his self-imposed prison in his mind, lost in the dark. It was a darkness that had seemed inescapable, but now he seemed to be waking from this, and found he had turned into a cruel companion.

“He will save me. Yes he will, he will save me.” She whispered into his chest, almost chanting the words. All of a sudden she was on her feet, tearing out of his arms. “I'm going, and I will find him. Then he will end this, you'll see. He'll set me free!”

“Are you mad woman? He'll kill you!”

“Yes.” She cried laughing. “YES!”

She ran out of the door laughing wildly. She ran, arms flung out, laughter floating on the breeze, echoing in the streets. Demetriov got up, forgetting his pain and melancholy. He had to stop her. He couldn't let her go to her death. He felt very afraid. He didn't want to be alone. He couldn't be alone. He couldn't cope without her.

“Avéa!” He screamed.

He ran after her. He had to use all of the skills that he had learnt over the years. As she ran towards the settlement she used her mental skills to throw him off track, distracting and confusing him. It was so hard to concentrate. He felt groggy, as if waking up from a long sleep. He found himself in the centre of the settlement, the sound of mortals all around him. He felt as if he were hearing and seeing clearly for the first time after an all-consuming fever. He nearly lost himself in the wonder of it all.

He had lost sight of her and as he rounded a corner he realised that he had no idea where she had gone. It was time to stop and think, be rational; there would be a way to find her. He smelled smoke on the wind, a glow in the sky. He knew of this hunter's usual tactic of killing vampires by fire. If she was seeking him out there was a good chance she was heading there. He ran as fast as his feet could take him, keeping an eye out for her in case he could catch her before she got there.

As he approached the fire the heat washed over him in waves. It was a huge bonfire, the heat almost too much to bear, he was so much more sensitive to it now, and it was one of the few things that could hurt him. A figure stood there, back to the fire, silent and still. Slim and tall, Demetriov knew instantly who he was, though he had never before seen his face. He slowed his approach, cautious, unsure about how dangerous this man was to him. It was a tense moment as the two faced each other, was the confrontation going to come?

The tension broke as Avéa launched herself out of the shadows at the hunter, bowling him over sideways. Demetriov lunged for her, trying to pull her away, but she was stronger and hit him hard across the face dazing him. She shook his head, trying to clear his vision, only too aware of Avéa and the hunter struggling with each other behind him. She was shrieking like a banshee and laughing wildly in equal measure. As his vision cleared he saw her floor her opponent, and came between them taking her by the arms.

“Avéa please!” He heard the hint of desperation in his voice and hated it immediately. “Come back to me.” He calmed his voice making it gentle now. “Come back to me. I have come to my senses and am myself again. Please, don't do this.”

He released her, scared to do so but knew he must. He cried out as she shoved him hard and almost into the fire. He balked at the heat rolling away.

“Please!” He begged. “I need you. I can't do this alone. Teach me to control this, help me rediscover myself. Let me take care of you, like you want me to. Just please don't leave me when I need you most.”

The hunter dived for her but she knocked him away like he was no more than a fly. She helped Demetriov to his feet, looking up at him with hope in her eyes. Blood was running down her pale face from a cut on her brow that had almost healed. She placed a hand delicately on his cheek.

“Is it true? Has my Demetriov come back to me after all these years?”

“I'm here now. I need you, and you need me. Please don't do this.”

She looked into his eyes and smiled. Suddenly she seemed calm, sane, herself once more. She flung her arms around his waist surprising him. He found himself smiling, stroking her hair gently, somehow pleased by this intimacy. She was not the person he would have chosen to spend the rest of his life with, but she was all he had. She stepped back away from him, looking mournful, Demetriov not able to understand why.

Suddenly she gasped, her eyes widening, the forgotten hunter rising behind her, his blade buried in her back. Demetriov found himself screaming as he stood frozen, watching helpless as she was thrown into the fire. He tried to go to her as she screamed, but was beaten back by the fierce heat. Avéa struggled in the flames unable to escape, primal anger rising in Demetriov as he saw her slipping away. He turned to see the hunter, the young man's eyes cold and determined. The young man's determination crumbled as he saw the fury in Demetriov, leaving all courage behind and running for his life.

All too quickly Demetriov caught him, all too aware that he was out of control again, but right now he just didn't care. All that mattered was the rage, the pent up rage that had been held back for so long. Rage at what he was, what he had become because of it, rage at his strength and rage at his helplessness. The rage consumed him, masking the fear that threatened to overwhelm him and rob him of all ability to cope with his self-hatred. He was aware of screaming; the screaming of her killer as Demetriov grabbed him, draining him hard, crushing the bones in the young man's arms so fierce was his strength.

As the blood hit his stomach, his mind began to clear, pulling away from his victim who was near unconsciousness from the attack. Still the anger was with him, as were tears; he felt so suddenly alone and afraid. The ill-fated hunter's knees gave way and Demetriov found himself sneering with disgust, but found that the disgust was not aimed at the mortal lying at his feet. His heart was pounding, threatening to burst out of his chest under the force of his emotion. Looking back at the fire nothing could be seen of his companion, panic rising from the pit of his stomach. What was he going to do?

Unable to control himself he dragged the semi-conscious hunter to his feet and hurled him into the flames. Demetriov's heart seemed to grow cold as he walked away slowly, piercing screams heralding his exit. He walked and walked for what seemed like hours, though how much time had passed he would not be able to recall. He had wept freely; unaware of his tears aware only of his fear and self-loathing. He felt like he had woken from bad dreams and into a nightmare. He had never wanted eternity, and now it seemed he would have to face it alone. He felt numb, a feeling that would not leave him for days to come.

Author's notes:

Well now we are getting into character development… Good fun! Still we have a very long way to go. Till next update!