Title: Confronting
Author: Bernarde
Rating: It'll end up NC17 in all likelihood. We all know I can't resist sex scenes.
Summary: "When he said he could heal Dad, we didn't believe him... thought he was pulling our legs. It's going too far now. We didn't want this."


We lead the unsuspecting human out of the club. He's wrapped around me, kissing my neck with his hands down my pants. Walking around to the alley where no one will see us, I grasp the young man tightly and we vanish, reappearing in the hotel room where Gangrel is waiting.

Gangrel remains hidden, for now, as Adam and I seduce the drunken man. His light skin is warm against the white sheets, so deliciously warm against my cold body. I kiss him hard, probing his mouth with my tongue as Adam scooches in behind him. He's now sandwiched between us, facing me with Adam at his back.

His lips are soft against mine and I can feel his blood racing, I can hear his heart beating loud and clear. He's naked quickly enough, and soon he's sitting on Adam's cock.

"Such a good boy," the blond laughs, shifting his hips to thrust deeper into the human's body. I brush soft chestnut hair away from his neck and take a deep whiff of his sweat and lust.

Gangrel reveals himself and, despite Adam being in the poor mortal's head, he trembles in fear. Most humans have an inherent terror of Gangrel, as I did when I was human. Somehow they know.

"Wait..." he whispers, trying to pull away from Adam, but he's held still by both of us as Gangrel slides in close behind him.

"Now don't fear, little one," my Master whispers, kissing the boy's cheek, "The more you struggle, the more this will hurt. You wouldn't want it to hurt, would you? What's your name?" he probes his naked mind, "Jordan..."

"Let me go!" The sweet note of fear in his voice causes my fangs to lengthen. I kiss down the lightly toned arms to find his wrist and I suck on it hungrily, but I don't bite. Gangrel feeds first, that's the rule.

"Do you have any idea what you have gotten yourself into, dear Jordan?" Grel continues to terrify the youth, grabbing his hips and forcing him to meet Adam's steady thrusts. Something tells me that they're going to kill this one. It's rare when they full on murder, but I can tell when it's going to happen. They're different.

"Let me go, you freaks!" His voice is pitched with horror, but Gangrel has wrenched those warm arms behind his back, keeping him immobile. My teeth itch, and I yearn to taste his blood. It would be so rich with his fear. Fuck, I'm so hungry.

Master pulls our victim off of Adam and repositions him on his hands and knees. He kneels in front of Jordan, pulling his cock out and pressing it to those soft lips. Adam mounts him again from behind, sliding easily into the used hole.

Jordan resists, as one could imagine, but their strength is more, much more, than his. I watch silently as they rape him. I'm so fucking hungry, I haven't eaten in days. They only let me eat sometimes. Usually they use my "good looks", as Grel says, to capture some poor bastard and lure him to them. Like now. Like last night. And the night before.

I watch as they fuck him, feed off of him, and fuck him some more. He's crying and bleeding from his neck, his wrists, his ass, but it garners no mercy from them. I am careful to not think, in case Gangrel picks up my thoughts and beats me for it. I only observe.

Finally, they drain him almost entirely. He is as pale as we are, lying still and breathing shallowly. Adam gestures to me - I get to feed tonight. I approach quietly, and take Jordan's bloodied and bruised wrist. His eyes are just barely open, and he looks at me sadly.

Please make it stop. Please don't let them hurt me anymore.

I bow my head and oblige his last wish.


I wake up suddenly, dizzy and nauseous. Another dream, though I know it's not a dream at all. Every time Jeff feeds, he connects to me. I imagine it happens to him when I feed, too, but I don't know that for sure.

He parades around on TNA, painting his face so he doesn't look like the corpse he is, hanging around with Shannon like everything is normal. I hate him. I don't watch TNA anymore, I don't watch any of the shows. Shortly after I was turned, I bailed out of my contract. Vince was pissed, but I didn't give a fuck. I lost the rest of my salary for the year, but fuck it. I have enough money anyway, as does Christian.

Christian still wrestles. Christian taught me how to be what I am. I don't know why I haven't killed myself yet. He has asked me a hundred times, and my answer is always the same. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I'm waiting for something. Something tells me that I'm waiting for Jeff, but I won't admit it to Christian.

I hate him, but I miss him with every part of me. I love him. He is my brother, my baby brother. Yes, he hurt me, yes, he changed me, yes, he raped me. We all do things we don't mean in times of passion.

I've given it a lot of thought, what he said that night. Honestly... I can't blame him. I don't agree with him, but I see his point of view. And it hurts. It truly does. I feel so bad, but what else was I supposed to do? What else could I do? I couldn't just Gangrel and Adam tear our family apart like they were doing... like they have.

Christian's voice rouses me from my thoughts. Quit brooding for a little while and come feed with me.

I sigh and go to him. He taught me how to veln, or fly, the first week I was changed. It's easily the handiest skill of being vampire. I know bits and pieces of the vampire language, Arc Laud, as well, but not enough to be fluent. I don't want to be fluent.

Strangely enough, there are many people who know about vampires and the other creatures that make up this nightmare that is my new life. Some humans actually enjoy being fed off of, and they congregate in little "cafés", where we can go to eat without having to hurt anyone. Of course, some vamps don't give a fuck if a human gets hurt or dies and, honestly, who can stop them? The older vampires don't care if we murder - they actually support it, seeing humans more as cattle than beings with rights.

I guess the minority of us who prefer not to kill would be the hipsters of the vampire world. "I require my humans to be shade grown." "I only eat sustainably produced humans." It would be funny if I could find humor in anything at this point.

Christian tolerates my silence fairly well, and tonight is no exception. We go to a fairly well-populated café in the heart of Toronto, not the busiest but it is the quietest. My "father" of sorts disappears into the lower levels, where the "live feeding" takes place, and I am left on the ground floor. I refuse to live feed. I never have, and I never will. Instead, I go to the punch bowl.

Yes, it's a punch bowl. It's a large, elaborate fountain that keeps the blood warm and mixed properly. It is the only thing I will drink.

I take a glass and hold it beneath a stream, watching it hungrily as it fills up. My chest rumbles and I tip it to my lips quickly, downing it within moments.

Come down here.

No, Christian.

Fine. I'll tell you again, it's better this way.

I don't care.

He leaves me be and I stand beside a bookcase and sip from my glass. There are other vamps, humans, demons, here as well, but I don't pay any attention to them. I don't care, really. Some will inevitably try to invite me into conversation, but I politely disregard them every time. I'm waiting, I guess. Waiting for an end that will probably never come. It's not a bad life. I visit
Dad a lot. In fact, I should do that tomorrow.

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

Soon enough, Christian emerges from the lower levels and we return home. I clean the spotless kitchen idly and he goes... somewhere. Probably to tonight's show. I don't know if anyone else know he is vampire. I don't really care.

Eddie winds around my legs and I pet him, sitting on the couch so that he can jump into my lap for more love. He was a stray that Christian allowed me to take in, and he is my main companion at this point.

I turn on the TV and flip through the channels, Eddie purring in my lap and rubbing furiously against my hand. I kiss the top of his head and settle on The Simpsons. Just another night in waiting.

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