Everything felt so new to Beatrix. There were things that she knew, things that she had known since the moment she was born and things she knew even before that time.
For instance, she knew that Dante was her father and she knew that he hadn’t always been her sire.
She didn’t consciously remember much from her time as a Lost Soul, or from the times before that, but those memories none the less clearly shaped the demon she had become.
It was a lot to take in.
Needless to say, Beatrix eagerly took in the world around her. She quickly discovered the delights of her wardrobe. She knew she would positively revel in always being the most well-dressed being in the room. She was not, however, a sex object. In this regard, she felt more than suspected, she differed from her sire.
She stared into her mirror, taking in every last detail of her outfit, when she spotted an old woman with a long, beak-like nose in the corner of the reflection. She turned around to greet her, only to be momentarily taken aback by Dante’s appearance as well. How odd that his reflection did not show in the mirror when hers did.
"This is Crow,” Dante waved towards the old woman. “She is the matriarch of the Tengu clan and a guest and resident within the Nightfort.”
"Owner and resident, Vampire. I was here long before you.”
“And yet the fort was not.”
“You put your fort right on top of my dungeon and you know it. Demon Lord or no, stop acting like you have a say in the truth being otherwise.”
Beatrix fully turned around and curtsied before approaching the pair, a tooth-dimpled smile on her lips. These two bickered like an old married couple. Dante was her father. Did that make Crow a surrogate mother? “I am Beatrix, Madam Crow. How may I help you?”
“What a lovely girl. No one will ever believe that you are this oaf’s daughter. As luck would have it, there is something you could help me with.” She smiled a wide smile that showed all her teeth. “I recently acquired a helper who has been most uncooperative.You might be just the push he needs to get some work done…”
* * *
“Madam, This is really not what I had been expecting.”
Beatrix and Crow stood in one of the upper levels of the dungeon beneath the Nightfort, while Dante stayed above and to do important things like sparkle for a rat or something. They stood in front of a large holding cell with a single occupant, he was easily 7 feet tall, all muscle, with blue skin and a pair of short horns sticking out of his head. An Oni. His wardrobe was abysmal, gym shorts that were too tight and T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Never had Beatrix met a demon in her short time in Makai who so offended her senses.
“That makes two of us. Normally when you save someone from a Demon Lord, they have the sense to do what you tell them to do.”
The Oni glared at Crow at the mention of a Demon Lord, while Beatrix politely smiled. She knew that her father was a Demon Lord and that that was supposed to be a big deal, but didn’t quite have all of the names right just yet.
"Now. Put those skills of yours to work girl.”
The young vampire nodded her head and approached the bars. The Oni for his part looked cautious, but in the way that expected a trick more than danger. He was not a particularly smart demon, as evidenced from him being in this situation in the first place.
Beatrix reached through the bars of his cell and focused her will upon him, blood-red eyes boring into his deep purple ones. Immediately the Oni’s gaze locked onto hers, his body relaxing. Soon, she beckoned the Oni to walk forward and he did so, one clumsy step at a time, until he stood in front of the bars. In front of Beatrix. The vampire reached out and took the wrist of the weak-willed fool, drawing it through the bars and towards her without resistance and without breaking eye contact.
As soon as she bit down, and the irony tang of his blood met her lips, strips of black fabric shot into the air. They swirled around the Oni while she drank, building mass and taking measurements. They continued to prepare until the moment she had drunk her fill, then immediately set to work. The strips sewed themselves into trousers and shirt and coat, a 3-piece suit suit that was fitted specifically to their host. Classic but fashionable. He wore no tie, instead undoing the top two buttons to show just a hint of the muscles underneath the lavender shirt. On his feet he wore runners, fashionable and black but practical for his likely work, and the ensemble was completed with close-fitting sunglasses that hid the faint red glow within his eyes.
“That was unexpected.”
Beatrix’s new thrall stood at the ready. Somewhere in her body she knew that this was so easy only because he was particularly weak of mind and will. Certainly the sort that was handy for dumb muscle, but perhaps little else. The larger part of her was enraptured by what she had just done. Of that particular high that came with feeding on a demon and the many new sensations that came with creating a thrall.
She idly twirled her finger, and the Oni responded by turning so as to allow her a better look at her work. She smiled and thought of all the possibilities this could lead to and of all the new fashions she could try.
