Title: Victorian Nightmare

Pairing: Atobe/Jirou, slight Oshitari/Gakuto

Rating: M

Warning: Slight noncon

Summary: Everything was perfect until the winter of 1893. The terror of that day never left me even as that beautiful ethereal being protected me. I covered my ears praying the screams would stop, only the screams became my own.

Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer applies. I own nothing but my idea.

Victorian Nightmare

It was the summer of 1889 when Okaa-san decided to move to Europe. She told she loved Japan, but she had this feeling that something ominous was getting ready to happen. Not only that but she wished for myself and my aniki, Kaji, to become cultured young men. Her one wish was for the both of to get accepted in the Tokyo Imperial Unversity. I was only two months past my sixth birthday, but she said it was never to early to prepare. The same for aniki, though he was approaching 15 years.

As a part of our learning Okaa-san had us tour the greatest sites that the European countries had to offer. From London, England to Rome, Italy we saw them all. After much deliberation she declared—in the fall of 1892—that we would make residence in Paris, France. She had fallen instantly in love with this city. Father, who had returned to Japan, was to join us in the winter. He was not looking forward to this. The sole reason? He could not stand European fashion. Aniki and I giggled at this but we could not help but agree. Trousers, button-up shirts, knee high socks, and brown loafers were far less comfortable than the yukatas we wore back home. Okaa-san, however, insisted that we fit in as much as possible--which was not hard considering I looked more European than Japanese. Aniki was the only one of us three children that truly looked Asian, he greatly took after father.

Before the move okaa-san wanted us to take one last tour of Italy. There was a castle she greatly wanted to visit. It had been built in the 16th century around Queen Elizabeth's reign. Since then a small town had been built in the surrounding land. It was a beautiful town dedicated to the worship of the castle's royal family. It slightly alarmed me how the residences stared at us and the other tourist but okaa-san said it was because these people did not have much contact to the outside world. As we followed our guide towards the castle an older woman crashed into aniki, almost making okaa-san drop Yuka—okaa-san was not pleased by this. The old woman wore old clothes, a shawl about her shoulders, a rosary in her hands. She began speaking frantically in Italian. It almost seemed as if she was pleading with us—begging us not to go into the castle. She turned to me, making a crossing movement.

Okaa-san pulled my hand to catch up with the tour group that was now entering the dark castle. The doors closed ominously behind us, blocking my view of the frazzled old woman. The guide spoke in English pointing out things in the castle as we proceeded. Yuka, being only three, looked at the glittering stained glass with awe. Just shy of my tenth birthday as I was, I was not as easily amused. Otou-san would not be amused by this either and neither was aniki. I needed to be like them. Yet, against my better judgments I awed at the sheer beauty and history of the place.

The guide stopped in front of two grandioso wooden doors. She pushed them open revealing the current royal family inhabiting this castle. All three were beautiful--The King in the center, his son (?) to his right, and his daughter (?) to his left. They were all dark haired, ruby eyed, with luminescent skin. A third man stood behind the King's throne. This man was even more beautiful than the three sitting in front of him. His long silver hair framed his face in delicate waves, framing his perfectly shaped face, highlighting coal blue eyes. He wore a kimono. The most extravagant kimono I had ever seen. My heart jumped—he's Japanese.

The man's eyes found mine, staring into my soul, or so it felt. I tugged on okaa-san's hand. Something, a voice, was telling me to leave. To run. I pulled harder. 'Jirou,' she scolded. The man mouthed my name as if he had heard it. The voice in my head was more persistent. I had no choice. I yanked hard till she let go. Aniki looked at me like I was daft as I jumped out the slowly closing doors. The two men closing them were smirking at me just before the doors slammed shut with a resounding thud. It was instantaneous. The people within screamed in terror, their hands pounding at the doors begging to get out. I huddle in a dark corner, covering my ears as tightly as possible, tears pouring from eyes. Then all together the sounds were gone and I felt as light as a feather. I felt as if I was running on the air. No, I felt as wind.

Moments later the sensation was gone and I found myself on a bed, the Japanese man from the castle staring down at me. He circled me like I was something to eat. "How old are you, boy?" he asked.

I stuttered out my answer. "10 in May."

"To young to delight in your body. But your blood…," he inhaled sharply, coal eyes turning to fire. "Is like….," his sentence was unfinished as he disappeared from my sight. I screamed out in pain and terror as something sharp pierced into my neck. A sharp sucking motion followed as I felt my body being drained of blood. He released me before I slipped into unconsciousness. His lips were stained with my blood and he lapped at the remnants greedily. "Liquid fire," he finished. "Yes, you will do quite nicely, won't you? Sleep now, child." I did as he ordered.


When I awoke the sun was long gone. A girl's giggle drifted to my ears. I sat up in the bed to see the man with a girl in his lap. The girl was suckling at his throat, rolling her hips down into his. I blushed. I shouldn't be seeing these kinds of things. Then man's eyes found mine, a malicious smirk covering his beautiful face. He whispered something to the girl and she jumped in surprise. She hopped up, trying desperately to cover her exposed breasts. I blushed even harder. Never had I seen the naked female form before.

The man stood from his chair. "I want him to watch," he told the girl. She shook her head to the negative. He turned her, forcing her to stare into his eyes. She began still, her head tilting to the side. He looked at me then, eyes feral, before tearing the girl's throat out. She had no time to react, to fight, to even scream. She was dead before her heart could even go past ten beats. "Hmmm…" he hummed, licking the blood from his fingers. "Never before has a female given ore-sama zero resistance. Ore-sama did right in choosing you." He was on me again, he teeth in my throat and again I screamed out in pain. Cold fingers stroked my face, as his blood stained lips covered my own. It was brief, merely a touch. "Yes, scream for ore-sama. Let ore-sama hear those beautiful fear filled cries."

He gripped my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. "Tomorrow we will head into the city. You will be attracting food for ore-sama. As such you are to refer to ore-sama as 'father', understood?"

Father? Father wasn't in the tour. Otou-san would still be alive. Still in Japan, maybe or perhaps he had come to Italy like he promised.

That cold hand slapped me across the face. "Understood?" he repeated with anger.

I nodded. Eventually he would let me go and then I could find Otou-san. He smirked. Not his evil smirk, no, this smirk was attractive on him. He then pressed his lips to mine again. "Very good. Also, ore-sama's name is Atobe Keigo. In this house you will refer to me as Keigo-sama."

I had no choice.

As promised Keigo-sama prepared me for a trip into the city to gather him a meal. When we arrived in the city I realized we were no longer in Italy but London, England. We had traveled countries away from where my father might very well be. I held tight to Keigo-sama's hand as we walked the streets in the mid-afternoon. When ordered I hugged to his side like a frightened child. Naturally women flocked to us cooing over how adorable I was. I wanted to warn them for I already knew what Keigo-sama's plan was. Keigo-sama wooed these women flawlessly; inviting them to a mansion I did not know existed. Would that be my new residence? They followed, still cooing after me and sure enough Keigo-sama led them to a Victorian estate on the outskirts of the city. No one would hear the women scream out here. Hiking up their skirts, the three women entered the home marveling at the riches Keigo-sama seemed to have.

He kept my hand till we were inside the home at which point he locked the door. He bent to my level. "Stay close to those women, understand?" He always said understand like I did not comprehend his request. I nodded wordlessly. Again he took my hand leading me past the foyer to the sitting room where the women sat properly, ankles crossed, hands on their laps. Keigo-sama sat across them, forcing me to sit next to him and lay my head in his lap. The women cooed at how dependant on my father I was. He stroked my hair, weaving a strand of lies to gain the women's trust.

"Are you looking to take a wife?" the woman in the blue dress asked. "I have always wished for a child but sadly I am barren." Keigo-sama's fingers clenched in my hair. Apparently he did not like this fact.

"I am still a virgin," the young woman in the lavender dress spoke. The fingers loosened. It was then I realized Keigo-sama wanted untainted blood. I maybe young but I knew what a virgin was. A virgin was someone who had not yet reached womanhood, as Okaa-san had told me.

"Well….," Keigo-sama began after an hour of trite conversation. "I find myself famished." Even when not speaking in Japanese Keigo-sama spoke with a condescending air. "Shall we eat?" He held out his unoccupied hand to the woman in lavender. She accepted the hand with a giggle. At the feel of his cold hand, her expression shifted as did the other women's. Suddenly they knew something was wrong. "Jirou, go sit with those women while I feed on this one," he ordered in Japanese. The women looked on in confusion as I moved to sit where lavender had been. Keigo-sama stood, sharp teeth bared and tore into the frightened virgin. The two women were terrified and made to run. I grabbed their hands, looking up at them with pleading eyes. If they did not stay Keigo-sama would feed on me, this I knew. Immediately the women calmed sitting down as if another was not being murdered before their eyes.

Once finished with lavender he moved to the woman in salmon and drank her dry. The final woman still stared solely at me with motherly eyes. It was as if she did not register her killer behind her, even when his teeth sank into her flesh she still smiled at me. Keigo-sama did not bleed her dry. She was near death and blood still poured from her wound. He pushed her towards me. "Finish her!"

My eyes widened. "I..I can't," I whispered. It was the truth. I was not like him. I would find no sustenance in drinking her.

"You will do it or ore-sama will allow you to starve. You will be denied even mortal food and drink."

I cried as my lips found her throat and I drank the metallically sweet liquid. I didn't want this. I just wanted my mommy. My daddy. Aniki. Yuka-chan. "Good," he smirked when the woman was dead. His lips found my blood stained ones, his tongue forcing itself into my mouth. I cried more and that just spurred him on. His tongue licked my tears away before returning to my mouth. When he was sated he left me there crying amongst the corpses.

This was how in continued—day in and day out. I was the lure. I would lure innocent young women to their deaths. On occasion I lured young men, no older than adulthood, to their deaths. Every time Keigo-sama forced me to watch. Every time Keigo-sama forced me to drink of his victims. Every time I cried. Every time he kissed me.

In the winter of 1893 we left London and traveled back to Paris. He had told me Paris was his most favorite place during the winter. This was also the place he instated another rule. I was to warm him. Warm his bed. During these winter months we slept during the day and Keigo-sama fed at night. He kept me close to him at all times. I was never out of his sight. Never.

I slept curled into his cold chest. The very faint sounded of a heart beat meeting my ears. Every morning he would mumble a number to me. It was only in the beginning of 1894 did I realize what this number was. This number was a countdown to my 12th birthday. He had been counting down to that day and I feared to know why. Was it not enough to force me to sleep with him? Force me to drink blood? Force me to murder innocent young women? No, it was not enough.

The night of my 12th birthday he pushed me down onto his bed and tore my clothes off my body. "Two years I've waited for this moment," he muttered, biting into my neck. I was use to this pain by now and merely whimpered. I was becoming numb to it. But he was ready to incite a new pain. That night he tore me in half. He entered my body with force, tearing the scream he craved from my throat—wrenching the tears from my eyes.

His aroused flesh drove in and out of my struggling body. Faster and faster. My own blood easing his way through. "Scream for me," he groaned, hands forcing my legs apart. Against my will the screams and whimpers came from my throat. These sounds made him move faster. His face was contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy. Despite him being cold, hot liquid essence poured inside of me. I could feel it leak out of me and down my thighs after Keigo-sama pulled out of me.

The next night I tried to refuse him, but he broke my wrists in response and did that to me again—even more violently then the night before. Every night, under the moon's rays, he did this to me. If I tried to muffle my screams he would break a finger till I gave him what I wanted. Somehow, though, my appendages never stayed broken. Between my state of unconsciousness and awaking my broken bones would mend. After five continuous days of this treatment I begged Keigo-sama to grant me a respite. He smiled a truly vile way at me and agreed. Leaving me in the bed, he left the house returning moments later with a boy in his arms. This boy was no older than me. Keigo-sama took the boy. The boy screaming the way I did only worse. But Keigo-sama did not seem fueled by this boy and quickly killed him before completion. He threw the body next to me, instinctively I scooted away. Keigo-sama was on me, holding me up against the wall by my throat. "You will take it, Jirou. Or more innocent children like this boy will be snatched from their homes."

I had no choice but to appease him. Dropping me to the bed, he showed me his arousal—I feared what he would do with it. I was right to be afraid for he shoved it into my mouth, down my throat, barely minding the fact that I was chocking. He relinquished, allowing me a short breath before repeating it. His groans grew louder and louder as he violently shoved himself down my throat. Tears again fell from my eyes, my throat feeling much like my back side. I would never talk again.

Keigo-sama's hot liquid essence poured down into my mouth and he ordered me to swallow. As I always found, I had no choice but to do as ordered. This taking of my mouth gave Keigo-sama another ordered for me. Now on occasion he would order me to my knees to pleasure him. If I did it wrong he would slap me. If I did it correctly he allowed me a day of sleep. So every time I heard him call my name in that tone, I would lower to my knees and pleasure him to perfection. It took a full year but by the February before my 14th birthday I could pleasure him to perfection. By the December of that year I learned when to spread my legs for Keigo-sama.

When my 15th birthday came he allowed me a day to explore the city we lived in. This time it was Moscow, Russia. Keigo-sama always liked to pick the largest cities as to not draw attention from the killings. I found Russia to be as cold as Keigo-sama, even in the heart of Spring.

I was happy to be away from him even if just for a few hours. I explored the city and talked lightly with the townspeople. They were all like me, mortal. Only they were so full of life. They had futures ahead of them. While I knew nothing that the future held for me. Keigo-sama had mentioned my 17th birthday being a day of extreme importance but he would not tell me why. I assume it would be the day I finally die. If that is the case I will openly accept death.

I walked the streets of Moscow, the light snow crunching beneath my feet. This was such a picturesque country and I hoped we would stay a little longer. I stopped to watch a group of children playing a game in the streets. I love children. They giggled as the ball went around their circle and they jeered playfully at each other. My light hearted mood did not last as I found a blade pressed to my throat. Fear was not the first emotion to erupt within me. I was use to Keigo-sama's threats, having endured them for upwards of six years now.

The man behind me wrapped an arm around my waist pulling me into the nearby alleyway. He was muttering something in Russian that I did not understand. He threw me like a ragdoll into his friend. His friend laughed, saying something also in Russian. Filthy hands rubbed my neck, to my face. The other undid my petticoat and removed my trousers. I wasn't fighting them. They were going to rape me like Keigo-sama does, but I could not find myself to care. The first man entered me and a smirk erupted on his face like he had hit pay dirt. Naturally my body was loose and accommodating--Keigo-sana had seen to that. When I did not scream the second man shoved the dirtied blade into my side. When I screamed, I surprised even myself. It was not a scream of pain. I screamed out for Keigo-sama. His name fell from my lips before I even realized it. Before I even thought it.

The men laughed at my helplessness. That's when I saw it--the shadow lurking among shadows. The first man made to thrust into me again, but froze when a hand gripped his skull. In one clench the man's skull was no more and the body collapsed to the ground. Keigo-sama shook the remnants of bone and hair from his hand before giving chase to the fleeing rapist. His arm went straight through this man, pulling his heart out. Keigo-sama walked over to me. He lowered himself to my level, the slowly beating organ in his hand. He bared his fangs, biting into the organ of life.

His mouth found mine, pushing the meat into my mouth and forcing me to taste it. I ate it like sweet bread and blood dribbled down my lip. Keigo-sama licked the trail up my chin, kissing me deeply. "Are you ready to return home?"

Home? Is that what he was calling it? Home is the torture and rape I endure. This is what home is? It's not the home I had known when I was younger but it was the only home I had. Keigo-sama was my only family.

After that incident of almost rape Keigo-sama eased back and merely spooned against me at night. Again he began counting down, this time to my seventeenth birthday. Every night the number went down by one. And the lower those numbers went the more persistent Keigo-sama was. He forced me to have sex with him. To kill. To drink. And when that number reached a mere six days away, Keigo-sama had me drink his own blood before proceeding to take me.

This was his new ritual. I drank his blood, he fucked me, he drank me down and then we slept. To be honest I did not think I would see the turn of the century. Yet, here I was, standing on Keigo-sama's villa balcony overlooking the land known as Spain, now a full seventeen years old.

Keigo-sama joined me, wrapping his arms around my waist. For some unexplainable reason I felt secure in my tormentor's arms. "Do you know, ore-sama thinks you the most beautiful creature alive?"

I scoffed. "More show than yourself?"

"Ore-sama is not alive, now am I?"

No, he wasn't. I knew this.

"It's been a long wait, Jirou. But now, it is time for you to die."

I barely had time to register his words before I found myself thrown from the balcony, rolling down the jagged cliff into the cold raging waters below. The last thing I saw before death claimed me was Keigo-sama with that truly malicious smirk on his face.


I shot up in the bed, coughing violently. I lived? Had Keigo-sama saved me?

The man sat on the edge of the bed, eyes watching me, long silver hair clouding his expression. Did he lament that I did not die? Was it by accident that I lived?

He inhaled sharply, very much like the first time he had me. His smile this time was gentle and his caress seemed soft as well. "At long last," he chuckled. I knew not what he meant. At long last what? He pushed me but I am alive? I'm dead but I'm alive? I'm dead…but…I'm…

He was on me in a millisecond, tearing my clothes off and kissing me desperately. Unlike before when he raped me, my body seemed to be responding to his every cold touch. It was like a trail of fire was left behind. When he pushed into my body, ripping me apart it was like it wasn't rough enough. It was like my body wanted more. Wanted him to be rougher and my mouth seemed to be betraying my thoughts at every turn. "Keigo-sama," I gasped. "Oh…so good…" I moaned out as if I was enjoying this. Why was my body betraying me? Had I really joined the ranks of the undead? Is this why?

My legs spread for him allowing more leeway. He kissed my throat, digging into his own personal blood supply. His fangs did not remain long. "Bite me, Jirou. Experience your new life."

New life? Placing my lips to his shoulder, I bit down, fangs automatically extending to puncture him. He moaned out his only warmth flooding into my body. Yes, he only warmth is his semen for even his blood ran cool.

He collapsed his full weight atop of me, something he never did, and nuzzled my neck. "Ore-sama has waited to long for this."

My eyes closed. For this? For me to become a member of the undead.

With my new abilities I could have easily escaped Keigo-sama now. But I had to remain. I had to learn. At least this is what I told myself. Keigo-sama had been teaching me the ways since I was 10 years old. How to lure. How to kill. How to drink. Faintly it hit me that he had been planning this since that day. All this time he had been training me into his ways. Making me into what he is. Making me stare at him in contempt. It was all so I learned the true nature of his being.

As the years passed I learned that my body craved sex about as much as it craved blood. Many times I found myself forcing sex on Keigo-sama. He never opposed for his body craved it as well. We fed off each other but we also fed on the blood of the masses. In 1910, we encountered an Irish immortal that told me of a new lifestyle. One that involved the killing of animals not humans. We were once mortal as well; did we truly want to live this life? Did we truly want to be killers of our own kind? Keigo-sama beamed proudly when I killed the 'vegetarian', for lack of a better word.

In 1912 I felt my mortality start to come back to haunt me. Like so many others, Keigo-sama and I stood on the docks staring up at the grand ship that kami-sama himself could not sink. It was to take its passengers to America, where the green lady stood proud—a symbol of freedom. Okaa-san would have loved to gone on this ship known as the Titantic. Even if it were only second class she would have given anything for us to take a ride on this ship. Perhaps I would return to ride it after its maiden voyage, for I did not need a ship to get to New York.

After it set sailed I begged Keigo-sama to go to New York and he obliged. We were in the city long before the ship was to dock. The masses stared at our ethereal undead beauty as we walked the streets of Manhattan. So many choices were available in this city. So many. Days later news of Titanic's sinking reached New York. The survivors were aboard the Carparthia and huddled close together upon reaching land. I felt angry at myself for my lack of sympathy. Those mortals had been ignorant and wish to challenge kami-sama himself. This was their own folly.

When the survivors sat close together praying to God, Keigo-sama merely scoffed. "There is no God." They had heard him clearly and immediately began crying. I agreed with him. There is no God. If there was a God, we would not exist.

In 1921, we returned to Japan. This is the same year I decided that I would leave Keigo-sama. I had grown tired of the man. He was using me as a mate but refused to admit that he held any emotion for me. Our kind had emotions but Keigo-sama refused to believe this. He had kidnapped me, kept me, killed me, raped me, had me…..a thousand things he did, but it was to hard for him to say that he loved me. Not that I love him, it would just be nice to know why he chose me all those many years ago.

He knew what I was planning, I could tell. Though it partly upset me that he wasn't making any move to stop me. "I'm going to go feed." Keigo-sama waved me off, he was thoroughly engrossed in his first edition copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula. Keigo-sama had bought the book when it was first published back in 1897, but he continually read if only to point out inaccuracies of the tale.

I traveled the streets of Tokyo alone--yes, we had returned to Tokyo. It had changed quite a lot since my departure some thirty years ago. While I was dressed in a man's kimono, other men wore suits and more European type dress. It seemed only Geisha wore kimonos now. Many men commented on my beauty and requested to know from which house I came from. I assumed they were referring to the hanamachi, but I had been away so long that I was more accustomed to European traditions rather then my own. I smiled to them before gracefully walking off down the street. These men were to old for my tastes. Keigo-sama had trained me well enough to prefer virgin blood or someone young.

"Matte!" a man yelled out to me, hand resting on my shoulder. "Onegai," he pleaded. I sighed, turning to address the old man. He looked at me, hand covering his mouth in shock. "You…it can't be…"

"Excuse me?"

"You just look like…no, never mind it's impossible. He would be over 30 now."

"I look like someone you know."

The man nodded. "My middle child. Some years ago my family disappeared--murdered. My middle child, Jirou, looked exactly like you. Except you look no older than 17. He would be well into his thirties by now--if he were still alive."

My eyes widened. My father? It couldn't be. What were the chances that my father happened upon me now? After all these years. A part of me felt happy that he was still alive, but another part of me knew I couldn't let him find out it was me. Our existence--mine, Keigo-sama's, all our kind--had to be kept secret and otou-san could expose that secret all to quickly.

Using my ability, I eased the man's pain. Made him feel calm, lightheaded, and all around happy. Keigo-sama said I have had this ability since I was a child but it applied upon my turning. The man's distressed face turned happy as he turned and walked away. It was horrible of me to do it, yet he needed closure. I made sure he got that. Now back to my running away.

Turning on the spot, I ran. Ran all the way to Osaka. Keigo-sama would not look for me here, I was sure of it. "Just on time," a low voice mused when I stopped. I turned to see a blue-haired man, siiting on a crate, book open. "Atobe said you would run to Osaka. Told me to keep you out of trouble out you came crawling back to him."

I glared. "Is that what he thinks? That heartless, soulless bastard."

"Aren't you, as well? Heartless and soulless, that is?" he smirked. "Well, it is truly not my place," he folded the edge of his page and shut his book. "I am Oshitari Yuushi."

"A friend of Keigo-sama's."

He raised an eyebrow. "Keigo-sama? He has got you well trained, doesn't he?"

"Who are you? "

"You could say I was Atobe's first experiment. Kidnapped me in 1826, when I was just 12 years old. He turned me five years later. Well come along, I have food at home if you are hungy," Oshitari said, hopping down and motioning for me to follow. I did, of course, I had no choice.

"So he raped you too?"

"Raped me? No. He never wanted my body; just my blood. It was my fighting spirit, he said. That was why he turned me. You must be special."

Special? My hand went to my neck where scars remained from when I was once mortal. "He told me my blood was like liquid fire to him."

Oshitari turned to look at me. "I see. It's about time."

"About time for what?"

"You could say it's a type of call. Like animals to their mates. A mortal's blood will call out to one of our kind and their blood is like a drug. Something we can't get enough of. It seems you are Atobe's match. His blood should do the same for you. The moment you turned you found your self wanting his body and blood, even against your better judgments, correct?"

I nodded. That explained why I suddenly called out for him during sex.

Oshitari smiled, slight fang peeking through. We entered his apartment, a clatter coming from within. "Gakuto, I'm back."

"About damn time," another voice yelled, a petite red-head rounding a corner.

"This is my mortal, Mukahi Gakuto. Of course, I've seen to it that he is no longer living," Oshitari smirked, placing a delicate kiss upon Gakuto's forehead.

"Yeah, yeah," Gakuto swatted before turning to me. "We got some girls in the room. You want? They're young….maybe not virgins but they are young."

I nodded. I was rather hungry and it had been hard to find someone. What with all the running I had planned to do. I followed them back to a room, that I assumed was just a spare. We entered to see three girls sitting properly, playing with the hems of their kimonos. They looked up upon our entrance, the oldest going straight to Oshitari. "Yuushi-kun, you left me so suddenly," she purred, batting long lashes.

"I apologize. I went to retrieve our friend so our numbers will be even," he told her, leading towards the futon. I took the loan chair, the youngest girl coming to sit in my lap. I wanted to dump her off--the back of my mid was saying I am lap candy not the other way around. "What's your name?" she asked. I did not answer as my eyes were trained on the throbbing vein of her neck. I exerted my calming power over the room, making the girl's putty to us. Without hesitation or preparation I tore into the girl's neck, drinking her dry. The other girls sat dormant, merely watching as their friend died in my hands.

When she was dead I looked up at the others. "Are you going to eat or shall I take care of them?"

Later when the sun rose and it was time to sleep my body ached. Ached with want and need. I tried not to scream but it was starting to become painful. My body yearned for me. For his body. His blood. His semen. I needed him. Yet, at the same time I was telling myself to be strong and hold out. Soon I would find a mortal that could ease my sexual urges as well as my hunger.

All to soon I came to find that no human was good enough. My body was rejecting every human I tried to have sex with--male or female. None of them were good enough. None of them were Keigo-sama. A year passed and soon 10 passed. I was holding out but even Gakuto was starting to comment on my screams of pain and agony. He offered me Yuushi's blood but it was not good enough. Close--because it had remnants of Keigo-sama's own--but not good enough.

Ten more years later we left Japan in the wake of the war. However, there was no escaping the war. It was a World War. This is when I decided I would sleep. Gakuto looked at me like I was crazy, but Yuushi understood. He found me a plot in a mausoleum and put me in a deep enough trance that would not feel my longing pain even in my sleep.

I laid in the coffin--quite cliché--and the lid sealed. My eyes slid closed and I slept.


When I arose, the mausoleum had gathered dirt, spiderwebs, and ruin. I was not sure how long I had been asleep or even what the year was, but I never felt more starved in my life. I couldn't deny it anymore. I was going to go crawling back to Keigo-sama. I need him, and hopefully he needed me to.

I walked to the door only to find it blockaded. No bother, I merely kicked the door out and exited. My eyes widened in disbelief. This was not the world I feel asleep in. The cemetery was no longer kept and there seem to be a new cemetery just up the way.

I ran into the city, only….where I am? I went to sleep in Tokyo, but this didn't look like Tokyo. "Where am I?" I despaired, falling to my knees in the crowded street. People glared at me as they passed. Yeah, I'm the nuisance. I ran to a window where a 'television' was displayed. I'd seen moving picture before but not like this. The 'television' read 1995. Over 50 years I had slept. No wonder I was in a world I no longer recognized. This must be the Tokyo of today.

"Excuse me?" I called out to a woman passing by. She was not ready to stop but I made her. "This is Tokyo, correct?"

"Yes, dear," she answered. "This is Shibuya. Are you lost? Do you need help?"

"In fact, I do," I smiled, leading her away to a secluded area. I drained her dry, feeling my energy return to me partly. Shibuya? Well I need to fit in at least. Entering a nearby clothing store, I picked a simple wardrobe that many boys around 17 seem to be wearing. Simple jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie according to the annoyed sales clerk. He was too snarky for his good. I did away with him as well. Men gave me more energy then women anyways. Now to find Keigo-sama.

Unfortunately, this proved more of a challenge than I thought. Tokyo was split into many regions, each more different than the next. The mansion we once lived in was now a hotel and there was no trace of Keigo-sama left. I ran all around Tokyo looking for a sign of Keigo-sama. A smell. A dead body. Something, but there was nothing.

I moved on to Yokohama only to find nothing. Next on my list was Nagoya and that is where I finally smelled it. That distinct scent that was Keigo-sama. It was coming from a mansion that was obviously newly built. A family played in the yard, while a rich wife laid by the pool a drink in hand. "Excuse me?" I called out and they looked at me like I was trash. "I'm looking for a boy name Atobe Keigo."

"Oh, you are a friend of Keigo-kun's? He's upstairs," the wife waved off, pushing her sunglasses back up.

I entered the mansion, the maids bowing to me and pointing me towards the upstairs. The smell got stronger as I approached his room and soon I was standing in front of a pair of large white double doors. I pushed them open, breaking the lock, and entered.

My eyes widened in disbelief at the man that stood on the balcony. He was wearing current fashions and his hair was completely gone. His long hair that he had for over 30 years was gone.

"Ore-sama is surprised. Ore-sama thought you would have come crawling back long before this."

"Your hair?"

He flipped his coiffed hair, back still to me. "Ore-sama had to cut it to blend in." I could tell he was leaving something out.

"This family?"

"They will die once all the maids are loyal to me or ore-sama just may kill them and replace them."

We were both silent. Our barely beating hearts a roar over the silence.

"It's been 70 some years, Jirou."

I was next to him in a blink of an eye, my arms tight around his waist. He felt so good. He turned, finger under my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. "Say you missed me. Tell ore-sama how you can't live without me."

His orders? They were so familiar. If I refused to answer, would he abuse me? A part of me shivered in delight at this thought. "Keigo-sama…." I whispered.

He gripped my hair, forcing my head back, and dove to my throat. His fangs sunk into my neck and a gasp of pure ecstasy tore through the air. My hand threaded to his short locks, holding his mouth to my neck. He tore away, breathing far more heavily than necessary. "Bind yourself to me," Keigo-sama glared. My eyes widened. "You are never going to leave me again. Now ore-sama will say it again. Bind yourself to me."

I nodded and he released my hair. My own mouth found his neck, and my fangs dug into his neck drinking him. I pulled away moments later and began to mumble Latin words under my breath. Never had I understood why these words were always in my head but now I knew. It was the only way to bind myself to Keigo-sama for all eternity. Slicing my tongue, I held the blood in my mouth until he repeated the same words. Normally, blood would be exchanged thorough finger tips, but I knew Keigo-sama would prefer this method.

He repeated the words quicker than I did and just as quickly sealed his mouth over mine, allowing the blood within to swirl and mix. I wasn't sure whose blood I swallowed--a definite mix, I think--I just knew the result was instantaneous. His emotions were mine. His thoughts were mine. My thoughts were his. My emotions were his. A smile began to grace my face. He had missed me. He had even been looking for me. He cut his hair out of depression.

Everything his words couldn't convey was here in his head. "You love me," I stated.

"Our kind do not know the mortal emotion of love."

A smirk crawled across my face. His emotions and thoughts were betraying his words. I hugged him tightly around the waist. "You love me," I sang out. He glared down at me, sharp nails dug into my shoulder. He was only angry that the statement was true.

I looked up at him, happy eyes staring into his angry ones. "You know what, Keigo-sama, despite everything. I love you, too." His hold loosened. But it was true and he would know as much. I didn't care that he had raped me, used me for blood, tortured me, turned me into this….I just didn't care--It was my nature to forgive anyway. I just know that I love him for some unexplainable reason.

Again he was holding me, only this time he was holding me to the mattress of his large canopy bed. His lips found mine in the softest exchange I had ever experienced. He was being gentle with me for the first time in our long extensive relationship. His touch was light as he quickly shed our clothes.

Our bodies moved against each other, relieving years of built up sexual stress. "Keigo-sama," I gasped out. "Inside me," I pleaded. Rolling against each other felt wonderful, but it was no where near enough, To many years it has been since we last did this. To long since I felt his power inside my body. He smirked as my legs spread for him. It was natural to do this now—he had trained me well.

Maneurving our bodies, he laid me back on the pillows, lifting my knees and guided himself inside me. I bit my lower lip as my anus was stretched to accomdate him. After a couple of decades of sexual incativity it hurt to be full again. Keigo-sama blew cool air on my air in attempt to soothe me—distract me from the pain. "Hush, now, Jirou. You know the pain only lasts for a moment." I do now that, but that doesn't mean it hurts anyless. He chuckled into my throat, the sound low and erotic. The vibrations taking my mind, temporarily, off the pain.

He pulled out, thrusting back in, slowly stretching to accomdate his size,Just like I knew it would, the pain dissipated leaving only pleasure in its wake. Again a smirk crossed Keigo-sama's face. Gripping my knees he pushed them up to thrust into my body rapidly—using that speed only our kind had. I writhed beneath him, my hands clutching the bedsheets in a vice, my voice crying out for more. I wanted more, harder, deeper.

Keigo-sama released my knees, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He leaned down to catch my lips in a passionate exchange as he drilled into me even deeper. The head board slammed against the thick wall threatening to break through with the force of our movements. The bed creaked in protest. Maids watched on in sick fascination from the open doors. Their eyes were glued to our ethereal forms as we made love. To them it probably looked far more beautiful.

"Kei…" I moaned out when I felt my orgasm approaching. My hand found my own hardened fleshed, jerking in time with his thrusts straight into my prostate.

He own moans were becoming louder signaling the approach of his own completion. He bared his fangs, digging into my throat sending me flying over the edge—warm semen splattering over my hand and chest. His hips pushed into my brutally once more, sending his own warm cum deep inside me. Funny how our semen seemed to be the only living thing about us. Perhaps it was a way to carry on our leninceny if we so choosed. Then the child would be half mortal half undead—a disturbing combination indeed.

His full weight collasped atop me, his bare shoulder right in my reach. I bit down into the pale flesh earning a moan of a approval, and a twitch from the soft flesh still within my body. His blood was cool, but it tasted better than a feverish human's. Possibly because Keigo-sama is mine and I his, for all of eternity and beyond.

As Keigo-sama had told me previously he killed the family that owned the mansion. Naturally I helped him. A side of me was just as cruel as he is but not so cruel as to kill those children. I left that to Keigo-sama. I took care of the maids and help. Keigo-sama said he despised the taste of their plebian blood. I shrugged. Blood is blood, I told him. He refused to let me kiss him after drinking 'plebian blood' so I proceeded to chase him until he conceded. Which he always did. I have that power over him aferall.

This is how things are. Happy. Playful. Far better than when I was a child. I understand now why Keigo went through such great lengths. He knew I was meant to be his mate. He wanted to turn me into a cold-blooded killer just like himself. But I love him like this. Odd.

Another century passed and the world turned 2005. Keigo could not believe the world had not imploded on itself yet, what with all the destroying the mortals did to it. Then again it was sure to happen eventually, in the far distant future. The mortals would concoct more inaccurate doomsday theories and the world would continue to turn.

"I'm bored," I sighed, stretching my arms towards the sky and falling against Keigo. Keigo lifted his arms allowing me to lay against him, before encasing him as he continued to read his book. "Twilight?" I questioned.

"Yes, I am contemplating whether to burn this, throw it, crush it, or a blend of all three," he said, turning the page. I enjoyed when Keigo dropped his 'ore-sama's'. It made me feel like he was dedicated to the idea of eternity with me.

"If it is so awful why are you still reading it?"

"I must know how this ends."

"What's it about?"

"It's an over romanticized view of vampirism and love. It's absolutely horrible. I guess if you are a tween girl I would see the appeal but the character of Bella almost seems to have no flaws. She's perfect in everyway, albeit minutely manic depressive. And this Edward….don't even start me on that. When have you seen a vampire ever glitter in sunlight."

"Iie, but that would be pretty." Keigo glared down at me. He took views on vampirism very seriously. Actually he takes everything very seriously. "It's just her views. If you don't like it, don't read it. I bet I would like it."

"I bet you would," Keigo agreed. Hey, what's that supposed to mean? "Ore-sama is sure you would choose a doting vegetarian over ore-sama."

Back to the ore-sama's. I hugged him tight around the waiste, looking up with my brown eyes wide. "Nope. I love my cold-blooded killer just the way he is."

"Mm-hmm. Well I am officially aggravated. To be honest I feel liking massacring people. Like the old days," he sighed, staring out the mansion window.

"Then lets massacre. You know I'll do anything you order me to," I smiled, bouncing on his lap slightly. Its true though, I will do anything he asks of me. Even get down on my knees and relieve his growing arousal—caused by me.

He petted my hair in a loving manner, eyes never leaving the horizon. "I feel like seeing a movie. There is a local theatre that plays classic horro movies. You feel up to it?"

My eyes widened. "A whole movie theatre? Are you sure?"

"Not up to it, my love," he asked condescendingly as he stroked my cheek. I glared up at him, playfully nipping at his fingers.

"I'm up to it," I pouted. He smirked, taking my hand into his and pulling me out the window. We laid on the ground with a soft thump. The new maids were slightly startled at our sudden appearance from the third story window. However, they would not speak of it, for they knew death was the punishment.

Keigo pulled me in the distraction of the local theatre, all the while telling me his plan as to keep every last mortal inside. Obviously he had been planning this for a again he may have been planning this just for me. I had witnessed massacres when I was still mortal but never have I participated. This would be my first time participating in our kind's favorite sport.

We entered the theatre, the patrons stood around chatting and laughing as they waited for their movie. Children laughed as they played the arcade games offered. Men sighed as their wives couldn't decide on a snack. Keigo wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me close to whisper in my ear. "Seal all the exits except the front door. Leave it open to the last possible second." I nodded, taking off through the crowds to seal all possible exits in the theatre—including windows and airducts. Keigo would be upset if I was not attentive enough to close all possible escapes.

"All done," I cheered, hugging tightly to his side. People were looking at us, some with disgust, some just to stare. Keigo took a step forward before telling me to seal the front doors. As soon as I detached myself Keigo sprung. He tore into the closest human girl to him and drained her dry before dropping her corpse and moving on. I found myself frozen as screams of terror ripped through the foyer and people ran looked for a way out. It was like all those years ago, when Keigo had influenced my thoughts to take me outside the room. The people were screaming to get out, banging on the doors, pleading for their lives. This was the same way.

"Jirou!" Keigo's voice called to me. I looked up at his blood covered face, eyes still wide. "Calm them and they will stop screaming."

That's right. Exerting my power the people all immediately calmed and stared in awe at me. They were silent, eyes wide with happiness, and stared with longing at me. A moment later Keigo was behind me, his arms wrapped securely around me in a comforting embrace. "They are not you or your mortal family. Their lives are meaningless, Jirou. They are nothing more than sustance to us."

I nodded. I felt my anger rising. Keigo is right. They are mortal. Weak. Fragile. Pathetic. Everything I'm not. I'm not that scared child that was tortured and raped. I am Keigo's equal. His lover. An undead. My hand came to rest over his arms. "Say it outloud, Keigo. How do you really feel about me?" My hand clenched, long sharp nails itching to tear out that mortal man's throat.

Keigo did not miss a beat. "I love you."

My hand flew out, severing the man's head from his body—both feel to the ground with an eerie echoing thud. I turned in his arms, playfully licking the blood from my fingers than his lips. "Why are we standing around? It's time to feast." Keigo returned my playful smirk before setting off again. Each mortal I killed that night represented a different part of my formal mortal exsistence. I needed no more mortal attachments. I'm over a hundred years old. Far to old to be crying about something that happened when I was still a mortal child. I have everything I need. I'm alive—so to speak—I have Keigo and maybe someday we can have a child of our own.

"Are you finished?" Keigo asked from his perch on the counter top. His legs were crossed, a mortal sucker dangling from his blood stained lips. We had done quiet a number today. The blood covered screens still ran their movies but no one was watching. Corspses littered the blood strewn ground, some dismembered others cotorted. I stepped around them to stand eye to eye with Keigo. I took the sucker from his mouth, placing it into my own, smiling innocently at him. He responded by throwing the sucker and kissing me straight on. Our tongues danced, enjoying the mix of our unique flavors and hundred of differnet blood types.

"..ka-kaa-san…" I heard faintly. I pulled out of the kiss turning towards the sound.

"I hear a child," I told him. "A crying child." I walked towards the small arcade area, following the sniffles and chocked sobs. I looked under the largest game spotting a child underneath, hiding in the shadows. I pulled the scared child out, looking over his appearance. He was covered in blood, his skin was pale, his hair a platinum blonde, and eyes a darker blue. It was as if kami-sama himself left me this gift. This child looked like a viable offspring from both me and Keigo. "What is your name?"

"Kei-Keisuke," he sniffled, rubbing his eyes with the clean part of his sleeve.

"Keisuke, how old are you?"

"Three," he answered, holding up his fingers. I used my ability to calm the child. Immediately, he fell limp in my arms, thumb in his mouth, eyes closed in sleep.

"No, Jirou," Keigo called when I exited.

"Onegaishimasu, Keigo-sama! He's only three. Any memories he has we can erase and he'll be our son. A son we can raise…."

"Like a mortal family?" Keigo glared.

"Iie. Raise him like you did me. Teach him the ways of our kind. Have him drink and then we can turn him." Yes, it could work—minus the rape and abuse part. "We can turn him at 15 instead of 17," I reasoned, stroking the child's hair.

Keigo sighed, coming over to us and placing his hand on the boy's forehead. His eyes closed in concentration as he erased and remade memories for this child—our child. Keisuke's eyes fluttered open, looking between me and Keigo. Keigo removed his hand and walked off to retrieve something. Those dark blue innocent orbs found me and stared. "Kaa-san, I'm sleepy," he yawned. My slow beating heart jumped at hearing him referring to me as his mother.

Keigo returned, holding a cup out to our son. "Drink this, Keisuke." The three year old happily took the cup and drank it done.

"All done, Tou-san," he smiled, handing the cup back to Keigo. Outside police sirens became louder as they approached the theatre possibly from a tripped silent alarm. "Time to go," Keigo sighed, going to break the front glass doors in. I shielded Keisuke's face before making to follow Keigo.

A smile broke out on Keisuke's face as we flew the air back towards our home. I may not be mortal and I may have had a hard life but everything fell just that way I wanted. Now I had everything. Keigo's love and a child to call our son. Truly, my victorian nightmare had turned into a victorian dream.