"A vampire mooning over a high schooler? Sounds like a recipe for a restraining order, not happily ever after," Callista muttered, flipping through Natalia's trashy novel. Secretly, she couldn't deny the book's bizarre pull.
Natalia, crimson lips stained from her frozen blood drink, chuckled. "Seriously, Astra? Living under a rock much? This is like, the most popular vampire romance novel ever."
Callista scoffed. Watcher training didn't exactly leave room for... escapist entertainment. Maybe that's why her primary directive involved dusting bloodsuckers, not indulging in their literary preferences.
Frustration simmered as she scanned the pages. Finding Eydis was proving as productive as searching for a needle in a haystack. Any mention of the Queen elicited nervous glances, like her name was Voldermort with fangs. Eydis lurked here, a phantom haunting the academy's labyrinthine halls.
"Speaking of ghosts," Callista murmured, her eyes skimming further, "how long have you been haunting this place, anyway?"
If finding Eydis was a dead end, they'd have to resort to Athena. The thought sent shivers down Callista's spine.
Not again.
"Still fishing for my age, Astra?" Natalia teased.
Callista flipped the page nonchalantly. "Barely a century," she said coolly. "Young blood in this nest of old bats."
Natalia choked on her drink. "Y-you... how... and young compared to an eighteen-year-old? That's hilarious!"
Callista rolled her eyes, the supervisor's files flashing in her mind. Maybe Eydis wasn't a student, but a staff member? "Everyone here seems positively ancient," she bluffed.
Natalia's playful grin turned sly. "Intrigued, are we? I've been around a while, and I'm considered new. Some here go way back."
Surprise flickered in Callista's crimson eyes. "Centuries? Why stay in this... prison?"
The amusement vanished from Natalia's face for a moment. "What's so great outside? Concrete, pollution, predator and prey. Here," she murmured, her gaze locking onto Callista, "everything's… consensual. No games, no fear. Just indulgence."
Natalia's words struck a chord with Callista. This academy, a sanctuary from the outside world's brutality. But then why the chaos outside? A flicker of empathy, a rare emotion for her, ignited within her. Maybe there was more to these creatures than she thought, more who craved peace just like Natalia.
But the question remained, a nagging doubt – could any creature, immortal or not, truly outrun the primal hunger lurking in the depths of their hearts?
In the urban jungle's underbelly, the symphony of the city faded to a distant thrum, replaced by the harsh buzz of neon and the rhythmic drip of unseen rain. Moonlight cast long, distorted shadows upon the slick cobblestones of the alleyway. Here, bathed in the harsh, dim glow of a red neon sign advertising some long-forgotten nightclub, a scene of chilling beauty unfolded.
A young woman, breathtakingly beautiful with her cascading dark brown waves and golden eyes, held a hulking werewolf aloft with one hand. Her crimson lips curved into a smile, devoid of warmth.
The creature, its fur matted and snarling, writhed in her grasp, its powerful muscles rendered useless against the woman's inhuman strength. The only sound was the low growl of the werewolf, echoing in the confines of the alley.
"That all you got, chief?" she purred, her voice laced with honey and venom.
“K-Kill me, bitch!” The werewolf spat, a guttural sound that barely escaped his constricted throat. Fear flickered in his silver eyes, battling defiance.
Eydis' grin widened, her fangs glinting under the neon lights. "Oh, I'll kill you, alright, but trust me, it won't be quick or painless."
A choked laugh escaped the werewolf, "My pack will find you, you...!"
A glint of silver flashed. With a sickening snap, a wet, metallic tang filled the air. Eydis, her expression serene, held aloft the severed tongue.
“Forgive me," she taunted, her voice dripping with faux sweetness as she flicked the discarded flesh into the bin. "Did something... interrupt your eloquent howl? Now, where were we?”
Eydis slammed the werewolf chieftain onto the unforgiving cobblestones, the impact echoing through the narrow alley. Her obsidian stiletto, a deadly mirror reflecting the harsh neon glow, hung precariously close to his throat, its polished edge glinting as ominously as the chilling smile playing on her crimson lips as she spoke,
“Let me enlighten you on what's about to happen.”
He choked, his breaths ragged, fear widening his silver eyes. Yet, defiance flickered in their depths, a testament to his warrior spirit.
“First, these redundant appendages," she murmured, her voice a silken caress. The blade, a shard of obsidian reflecting the pale moonlight, traced a languid line down his chest, carving a fresh furrow of agony. It wasn't just pain; it was a violation, a piece of him being methodically stripped away with each agonizing inch.
“Such a waste,” she continued, amusement lacing her voice like venom, echoing in the forgotten alley. “A slow discard is only fitting, wouldn't you agree?"
He spat, a bloody mess, a guttural growl erupting from his throat. But the raw defiance quickly contorted into a choked cry as her stiletto, a cruel obsidian spike, pierced his throat, stealing his breath in one swift motion.
Tears blurred his vision, the chieftain's silver eyes darted around the alley, searching for an escape, a glimmer of hope in the dim red light. He sent a desperate plea through the mindscape, a silent cry for his pack to reach him before his final moments.
Eydis, the very picture of a predator toying with its prey, revelled in his struggle. Every whimper, every tear that traced a path down his weathered face, fuelled the amusement playing on her crimson lips.
“A recent human documentary sparked a fascinating idea," she drawled, her voice carrying a chilling edge. "The way they extract blood from livestock... such efficiency, such meticulousness."
She leaned closer, her eyes devoid of emotions. "Perhaps a more… humane approach is in order. What do you say, chieftain?"
The blade danced on his skin, carving a map of pain. He wanted to scream, beg, but her gaze held him captive, transforming his roars into whimpers.
"Ready for the main course, little puppy?"
He wished for death, for oblivion to claim him from this monster masquerading as a woman. And he feared not just for himself, but for his pack, for the unseen terror they were facing. Numbers wouldn't be enough.
But his world quickly dissolved into darkness, the last thing he registered was a low voice cut through the haze.
"Always so theatrical, Your Majesty." A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and imposing, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.
"Lionel," she purred, "interrupting my little... entertainment?"
He chuckled, his gaze lingering on the fallen werewolf. "All that drama, yet a swift end. You wanted him to deliver a message, didn't you?"
Eydis tossed the bloodied blade aside, a nonchalant smile playing on her lips. "Let them come, Lionel. Being hunted has its own peculiar charm, wouldn't you agree?"
Lionel bowed, his voice laced with a darkness that mirrored hers. "Just be careful, My Queen. You tread on dangerous ground."
Their conversation was abruptly cut short by a chorus of throaty roars that echoed through the fetid alley. Eydis muttered a dry, "Rude," under her breath before turning to face the intruders. Ten pairs of glowing silver eyes, like hungry embers in the dim red light, pierced the shadows as a pack of werewolves materialised before them.
The Queen stood, her gaze fixed on Lionel who moved through the pack with the lethal grace of a panther. "Any news on Lukas?" she inquired, her voice a calm island amidst the storm of growls and snarls.
Lionel, dodging a snapping jaw with a dancer's agility, landed a brutal kick to the beast's flank, sending it crashing into another. "Captured or dusted by the Watchers," he replied, his voice ragged from exertion. "Most likely the latter, knowing his taste for… distractions."
"Lukas and his weakness for pretty faces," Eydis mused, shrugging off her designer blazer like it was a mere inconvenience, revealing a form that belied her seemingly delicate stature. She rolled up her white silk shirt, its pristine fabric stark against the encroaching bloodbath.
A particularly bold werewolf lunged, its claws outstretched like wicked blades. Eydis, seemingly unfazed, froze the beast mid-air with a flick of her wrist, the movement so swift it appeared effortless. "Such a shame," she murmured, a hint of amusement flickering in her ice-cold eyes. With a lightning-fast motion, she ripped out the still-beating heart, crimson staining the pristine fabric. "Waste of perfectly good cashmere."
Tossing the dripping organ and the ruined shirt onto the growing pile of twitching corpses. Licking the blood from her fingers, she buttoned her blazer back up with a grimace.
"Dry cleaning bills are becoming astronomical, Lionel," she said, voice laced with annoyance. "Perhaps I need a bulk discount with Orion. This werewolf blood is truly dreadful - like a bland, unseasoned salad."
Lionel, wiping the crimson splatter from his brow, dispatched the remaining werewolf with a final, decisive blow. "These 'cleanup duties' are usually Orion’s forte," he observed, glancing towards a dark figure perched silently on a nearby rooftop.
Eydis turned, a predatory glint flashing in her golden eyes as she directed a playful wink towards Orion. The woman, shrouded in shadow, shifted ever so slightly, her form seeming to ripple and distort for a fleeting moment.
"Speaking of transformation," Eydis purred, "the blood seems to be enhancing your natural colouring more than usual, wouldn't you say, Captain?"
Lionel chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. Perhaps Queen Eydis was the reason vampires were known for their morbid sense of humour, but at least it wasn't dull. He knew better than anyone the truth behind Orion's "enhanced cleaning abilities," and the strange way their enigmatic companion seemed to vanish and reappear at will, always leaving behind the telltale scent of the forest.
