InsaneJournal

Week Four: Thursday
Who: Vallis (A Narrative)
Where: A young womans apartment.
When: Thursday late night.
What: Frustrated, Vallis seeks his normal form of release, but his choice in partner brings something out of him, that not even he expected.
Warning: Very graphic.

Legs, wrapped firmly around his hips, as they rose, and fell in that all too familiar rhythm. A rhythm, that by now, one would think he was tired of. Centuries of fucking, and still his taste had not even come close to being satisfied. It was the same in mortal life. Always, he had sought out numerous partners, to indulge his impulse. One, had managed to claim him, on more than one occasion. A beauty, if there ever was. Hair, golden, with eyes so green, the emeralds were jealous of them. It had never been his intention, to marry... to have a family. The conventional existence, that so many had fallen into. No, he was going to be like his uncle. A strange man, who saw the world, and never claimed a bride.

That had been, until the green eyed goddess, began to carry his child. It was a scandal, that her family wished to avoid, so, the two had married. At the time, Vallis was pleased, she was going to have his son. Something, that he could always respect her for. Though, love, beyond a vague fondness, never existed. He would never love another woman. Not in the way he had loved Roslin. The one woman, that he could never have... the one woman, who was perfect for him. Too perfect. His other half, in all ways... his sister.

Charles had been born, not long after he, and Margot were married. For once, he felt like a normal man, a happy man. He now had his son, to occupy his curiosity with. A son to raise in his image, to teach, to train. The first real pet, and he would always be his. No matter what. Vallis had not been anticipating the jealousy, that Roslin would feel towards his family. He knew that his sister could be cruel, just as he himself, could be cruel. They had been taught to shun those, weaker, and at a lower class than themselves. To use those, who were worth nothing. They had always been better, than most, that was simply how it was.


That night... he had never seen so much blood. Roslin, she sat there, at the small wooden table, of his home. Her hands, face, and clothing, drenched in the blood of his wife, and son. It had all been taken from him. In one jealous rage, by the woman he loved. Gone, all of it. Roslin had changed, she was cold, dangerous, and even more beautiful, with her pale skin, and glowing green eyes. He wished to see her dead, that was his plan, he death, was what he sought, when he ventured back, to his childhood home. His own, would be what was found.

Vampires, both of them. His uncle took his life, while Roslin stood back, watching, speaking that his new strength, would allow him the ability to kill her. As it was, there would be no possibility. Vallis took this gift... a new life. He became, like them. For years, he trained, all for the sake of taking his revenge. But, when they finally met once more, it was not how he expected it. He had loved her still, wanted her, cherished her. Though, the desire to hurt her, never completely vanished.

Now, her pet was disappointing him. Placing her time with a half human, rather than him. Vallis growled, pulling away from the redhead, only flip her onto her stomach, and draw her hips up into the air. He continued the harsh pace, his dark eyes focused on the swaying ginger locks. They were so similar. Not only the hair, but her body... the same lithe frame. It could be her, if he just thought so. And it was. It was Roslin's face, that he saw, when she turned back to see him. Those eyes, that haunted him... it was her.

Forward, he reached, pulling her back flat against his own, never bothering to remove his body from the warmth her own provided. "J'ai rêvé de ce moment, Roslin. Avez-vous su ? Je toujours vous ai voulu, vous avoir, vous réclamez. ... vous détruit." His hands rose, wrapping around the long slender neck of the woman. The strength of his hands, constricted her breath. Trapping it within the pale chest. Never once, did he stop fucking her. He kept on, he wouldn't stop... not until he was satisfied.

Bloody began seeping, through his fingers. The woman's eyes, red, and trapped in a state of horror. Her face was blue, and her struggle had long since ended. Not that she ever had a chance, there was not a long fight on her end. Easy prey... how wrongly had she picked, when deciding upon him that night. As his muscles of his hips tightened, his hands finally released her. She fell to the mattress, and the blood began to seep into the white sheets of her bed.

This, is where the panic set in. Mixed with the rush, and excitement, that he felt from having taken her life. This stand in Roslin. Vallis couldn't recall ever having a more satisfying orgasm, in his entire life. He was a fool though, he knew it. This wasn't a hundred years ago, when getting away with murder was easy. Not when the fucking police relied heavily upon technology. He would have to be careful, and clean up after himself. He'd have to risk sunrise, to make it home. Staying here, was not an option. The sooner he left, the safer he would be.



(I've dreamt of this moment, Roslin. Did you know? I've always wanted you, to have you, claim you.... destroy you.)