Trinity Blood Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Darker Angels ❯ Thorns ( Chapter 15 )

 

The second whip strike that came down across his thigh made him bleed. Of course, that had been the intention all along. He was already bleeding from a myriad of shallow cuts, not enough to be dangerous but enough to cause an easy blood flow. He also knew why he was being made to bleed. Not more than five feet away from him was a very hungry and extremely pissed off Methuselah.

 

Isaak had forced his fangs back by sheer will at least five times since the start of this session and his jaws were now beginning to ache from it. He had been well fed in the way of Terrans but had very little or no blood intake in the past seven days. As a result, he was completely ravenous. Just the smell of Dietrich's blood only a few feet away from him was causing him to behave in a most undignified manner. He was growling and straining at the shadows that held him.

 

She smiled and grasped Dietrich's hair, moving his head forcibly to one side and exposing the long curve of his neck. She bared her own teeth and clamped down on the skin joining his neck and shoulder, again drawing blood. Isaak very nearly wrenched his shoulders out of socket trying to get to him then. She lifted her head and smiled at him with Dietrich's blood painting her lips crimson. She stalked over to him and took his face in both hands then kissed him.

 

Isaak's fangs lengthened so quickly they cut into his bottom lip but he barely noticed as he was trying diligently to lick every drop of blood off of her mouth. When that was done he tried to bite her only to have her step away from him before he could.

 

“Naughty Methuselah,” she chuckled. “My blood would do you far more harm than good.”

 

Isaak glared at her and bared his fangs to their full length, snarling.

 

“Ah, Isaak, you have no idea how beautiful you are like that,” she said.

 

She turned and walked to where Dietrich lay strapped to the table. “Up you get,” she said, loosening the straps enough for him to be able to sit up. She wandered back to a table set against the wall that held various sharp implements as well as a bull whip, riding crop and oddly enough a vase of freshly cut roses.

 

Dietrich's eyes darted around the room, trying not to focus on anything in particular and attempting to distract himself from wondering what she was going to do to him next. He heard her come up behind him and put something down on the table. She grabbed the straps still attached to his wrists and bound them to his ankles, folding him nearly in half and baring the previously unmolested skin of his shoulders and back. He whimpered a little and felt every muscle clench in anticipation as the fight or flight adrenaline kicked in. The only trouble was, he could do neither. He clenched his teeth when the first strike came down, drawing blood from the many sharp points of the thorns.

 

When Dietrich's back was a mass of crisscrossed lines leaving trails of blood oozing sluggishly from the wounds she stood back and admired her handiwork. She ran her fingers across his back and stepped over to Isaak. She swiped the fresh blood first along one cheek then the other like war paint. Then continued down, using Dietrich's blood as a macabre form of finger paint and Isaak's body as a canvas.

 

“I *will* kill you, you bitch,” Isaak snarled at her. “Just as soon as I get free, you'll be the first one I hunt down.”

 

She smiled at him. “I look forward to you trying that, dear.”

 

She stepped back over to Dietrich and unstrapped him completely. He instantly wrapped his arms around his knees in an attempt to stop himself from trembling. She put her arms around him, being careful to avoid his wounds, petting his hair and talking softly to him.

 

“Okay, sweetie. I think that's enough for you today,” she said, pulling him carefully to his feet. “How about we get you into a nice hot bath. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

 

He nodded stiffly.

 

“As for you, my naughty little Pretty, I think I'll let you hang there covered in Dietrich's blood for a while as an added punishment.”

 

“Punishment for what?” he growled.

 

“Why, for trying to bite me earlier. Silly Pretty. It's a good thing you weren't successful in your attempt because I doubt you would have been happy with the results of my blood in your system.”

 

“So, you're going to let me hang here and go slowly insane from the smell of the blood?”

 

“That's the general idea,” she said, stretching up and putting her forehead against his. “You and your little friends aren't the only ones good at psychological warfare. I've got you, my Pretty, and your little dog too.”

 

She stepped away from him and motioned for Dietrich to follow her. “Come on. Toto,” she said, snapping her fingers. Dietrich followed her and she closed the heavy wooden door after them, silencing Isaak's screams of rage.