Chapter 8: Wrong A Wrong
“Who are you?” questioned Giles, standing at the doorway.
“I told you, Adrian. And don’t be afraid. Cause well, one thing I really don’t like that stinky fear thing you got going on,” answered Adrian sitting back down in that chair, “What can I say, not like most vampires.”
“You have a soul?” asked Giles.
“Hell no,” laughed Adrian, “I’m as dark as the next person, but why I won’t hurt you? We’ve got a common enemy.”
“Cillian,” answered Giles.
“Yeah,” smiled Adrian.
“You tried to burn him, taking his curtains.”
“And the sheets,” stated Adrian, “But that didn’t work.”
“Why not just stake him in his sleep?” asked Giles.
“Cause, one thing I have like every other vamp. We like to torture people. Or each other. Of course most think it’s immoral. With whole, being of the same. I don’t think so, they piss you off, piss them back off. Kill them if you have to,” she replied.
“So he got you angry, and you want vengeance,” he stated taking his glasses off of his face and pulling out his handkerchief to clean them.
“Yeah. I guess I got it from him.”
“You got it from him?” questioned Giles.
“He’s my sire,” sighed Adrian.
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~ 1941: New York:
Night: Of course it was night. Everything that Cillian did was done in the night time. He’d gotten away from those American Military soldiers with ease. That was at Night.
Now he was living the life, at night. All the people weren’t just, captive. They were all around, a sure hunt. Not captive like when he was hanging around in Auschwitz before.
All the world to him. Everlasting feeding ground, and while he was New York he’d hunt down his next slayer. Go to her.
But that wasn’t top on his priority list. He’d been stocking a young girl, she was 17yr. Old and had 7 brother and 2 sisters.
They lived South of the city of New York. They lived south enough to have a large farm. Lovely farm house and hardly any contact with the city.
The poor girl was sick. She’d die. Cillian watched her all the time. Knew everything back her. Not her name though.
She was dizzy all the time. Couldn’t eat. This sickness whatever it was, was sudden. She would look sickly by the end of that week.
Cillian watched her through her window, her family was out of the house, all of them. She stood at the kitchen table in her night gown coughing, trying to get a glass of water. It was rather hard.
Suddenly Cillian stood behind her. Poor British girl come over with family to live better life, ended up getting fatally sick.
She didn’t know he was there. He went to touch her long blonde hair, just letting his hand hover over the hair. Not touching it.
The girl sensed his presence, she stopped coughing. Slowly she turned around. Cillian pulled away faster than she turned around. She looked at him with surprised.
“Poor girl,” said Cillian standing above her, towering, handsome to her. But she was more about the fact there was a man in the house.
“Get, out,” she trembled, feeling the cough come, sweat going down her face.
Cillian looked down in her blue eyes, he raised his hand slowly to her cheek, to caress it. He spoke: “Come here from Britain, make a new life. Poor girl, got so sick.”
She was shaking, more than the chills made her. He placed his hand on her cheek, cold, moist. Cillian didn’t care, “Got so sick.”
“Leave, my father-”
“Won’t come to you know,” Cillian said. The poor girl shook her head no, not believing them dead, “No, no, they’re alive. Completely, you’re the only sick one. One on the edge of death,” he edged ever so close to her. Spoke: “In days your beauty will be gone, lack of eating, drinking. You’ll just die.”
“Leave.”
He brushed her golden curls from the side of her face over her shoulder, “But I can give you more. More life. Future. Eternal life, Immortality.” She didn’t speak, just looked at him.
Cillian pushed her gown away from her neck. Pushed her hair out of the way. His face, vamped out.
The girl didn’t do a thing, she just stood there looking into his now yellow eyes. Fearful, but those thoughts never going through her head. She just looked at him.
He leaned into her throat and bit into her skin. She moaned from the pain, and he closed his eyes. She closed her eyes.
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“And he did something you don’t like?” asked Giles.
“Of course,” answered Adrian, “Turned me, gave me the name Adrian.”
“You hate him and you still kept the name?” asked Giles.
“Yes. Of course I thought it was a lot better than Sidney,” stated Adrian.
“I see.”
“He wanted a mate to follow him. Be at his side when he wanted, turned out he didn’t enjoy raping more than he needed to,” said Adrian distastefully. “Stopped with me around.” She smiled, “We were in love, or at least he was with me. I loved him enough.”
“Well, no matter how enthralling your little love story is, you said you wanted to kill him,” replied Giles.
“HELL yeah,” answered Adrian with enthusiasm.
“I find that he’s a major threat against-”
“Anyone, and everyone, human and pure. Like I bleeding don’t know?” stated Adrian. “I’m a threat against that too. You can be.”
“I’m not evil,” assured Giles.
“I’m not going to corrupt you. Probably won’t eat you when I’m done killing that egotistic, jealous, bastard.”
“He’s killed many slayers-”
“Not the tale I haven’t heard already, read about. I’ve tried to kill him twice, this’ll be the third. And as they all say, ‘Third time’s the charm,’” she folded her arms across her chest.
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~1941: New York, NY
The room was cold. Adrian was confused. She laid in a bed, of soft, soft sheets against her skin. Her eyes closed listening to everything around her.
There wasn’t any noises, she was thirsty. She didn’t know what for. What she craved, didn’t know what that was. Cold feeling that she didn’t quite understand.
“Are you awake my darling?” questioned that handsome Scottish voice. Cillian.
Adrian opened her eyes slowly. Saw him standing over her. He leaned in towards hr slowly. Sat on the side of that strange soft bed to her left.
Cillian leaned over her, laying on the bed somewhat. Adrian just looked up into his eyes, laying there, unsure everything going on around her. her silky curls of her hair laying out around her.
He lay his white hand against he cheek. Slowly moved it into her hair, “No more death for you,” his voice was like a cold rush. “I name, you Adrian.”
“What am I?” se asked softly.
“Vampire,” he relied, soft voice like hers was, “My family.”
“I’m hungry,” she stated softly.
Leaning over her, respectfully he held himself up instead of laying on top of her. He put ran his left hand down her nightgown going to her back and pulled her up to him, “Of course.”
She sat up on her elbows. “I’ll teach you everything,” assured Cillian. “My Angel. Lover.”
“What if I don’t want to love you?” asked Adrian softly.
“That won’t happen,” stated Cillian, “I made you, gave you this. And I could take it all away.” That final part he hissed slightly.
Adrian just looked up at her, “I’m condemned.”
“Yes,” smiled Cillian.
“Alive?”
“No. You’re the living dead,” he slowly kissed her naked shoulder, he slowly kissed her throat.
Adrian leaned back onto the bed, looking up at him. He smiled down at her. “I don’t choose.”
“I picked you. Should be happy.”
She just looked up at him. The hunger hurt inside her. Cillian leaned down and kissed her on the lips, she didn’t say no and held his head as he pulled up. Pulled him back down to kiss her again.
Adrian put her hands on his shoulders kissing him. He pulled away slightly, “You’re a beautiful creature,” he hissed.
She kissed him harder on the lips, “I’m,” she kissed him again hard, “hungry.”
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Cillian went through his new Hotel room and slammed the door closed. His sleeve from the arm that hit that wall was torn and blood was drying on his arm. Same with his fist. He stood there passing the main table, passing the bed. He pulled his shirt off.
His skin hurt, it had just sizzled a little in the sun. Redness. It’d heal in the hour.
He went towards the bathroom kicking his boots off. He took his belt off and turned on the shower.
Looked in the mirror while he was taking his belt off. Cocked his head to the side. Under his hair, on the right side of neck was a very large bruise. Down his chest were bruises as well. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.
Stepped into the hot water, no thought passing through his mind. A blankness. He moved his head through the warm water getting all his hair wet. He wiped his arm, the blood coming off, it bled a little. He pushed his wet hair off his face and examined his knuckles.
The water felt good on his naked flesh. He turned away from the shower, the water running down his back, down the back of his head. Over his back down his chest. He took to looking at the tiles with his big eyes.
Who would catch me on fire besides Rupes? Who’d dare do such? Vamps, or humans alike?
Vamps know I don’t care what they are, I’ll kill them anyway. I’ve made a lot of enemies haven’t I?
I’ll kill them too. No one can stop me. I get whatever I want. Anyone I want.
Women, Fancy hotel. Hell, maybe I’ll get a motorcycle. Anything I want, if I wanted velvet carpets and flowers on the table of the in my Hotel room, I could get them.
He looked up from the tile of the bathroom. He swallowed, his eyes looking around him. Thinking about something.
Pretty much clean he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried off, threw the towel into the bathtub. Some blood on it from his arm wounds.
He put his pants on and walked into the main room going over to the table and picking up a piece of paper sitting there that said Cillian in fancy woman writing. Cillian opened it.
Cillian,
My love. My enemy. I’ve noticed that you got away from your little American friends in the Pokey.
No, you didn’t find me. I found you. Keeping tabs, looking beautiful. Not you, me looking beautiful.
I remember our last days together completely. Even when I tried to kill you. Multiple times.
Can’t wait to see you love. I hope you are as good looking as you used to be, don’t mind killing pretty people.
Adrian
Cillian didn’t faze a bit from the letter, put it down on the table. Didn’t think a bit about it, besides the act of putting down that piece paper.
“She can’t kill me either,” he said out loud to himself.
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~ 1941: New York:
Night: Cillian sat in a chair in the lovely hotel room that he’d gotten with his lovely Adrian. He sat there drinking some scotch, sat there like he was waiting for something.
The door to the room opened and Adrian walked in, her long hair up on the top of her head. Dressed lovely like. She wore a very nice red dress, like the ones that everyone else wore.
“Cillian,” she smiled, “Were you waiting for me?”
“What do you think?” he sneered standing up.
“I think you were, why?” asked Adrian going towards him.
“Where were you?” he hissed, scotch on his breath.
“I was out,” she sat putting her red bag down and kicking off her high heels.
“I know you’re lying, you were somewhere. Logic Love. Now where were you?” demanded Cillian grabbed her by the arm and slamming her down on the floor with ease.
“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!!” she roared.
“It’s completely my business,” he spat, “I’m your sire, I made you. Tell me!”
“Did you have to tell your sire everywhere you went,” she snapped back standing up.
Cillian just looked at her. Didn’t answer, didn’t like thinking of that Anton. And his advancements.
“Did you?” she asked going up to him.
He kept his cool, “I see it.”
“What?” she sneered. He didn’t reply, “Fine, if you’d like to stop this fight now. Because it is pointless. We were living a very good life. She unbuttoned her collar, Cillian looked at her neck, looking down towards her bosom.
She let her long silky hair down, “See, everything is fine now. You don’t need to know anything, and neither want to consider it.” While she spoke she held his hand playing with his fingers, laying his on her chest.
Cillian looked at her, “I know what are doing.”
Adrian leaned in like she was going to kiss him, smiled, “Really? You know, that I’m trying to seduce you,” she kissed him in the reply, he didn’t move his lips in the kiss, she pulled away slightly, “Cause…” she unbuttoned his shirt slowly, half way down, kissing his throat, “I love you.”
He jerked her hands away from him and in the process she got slammed into the table where her purse was. She held herself there, trying not to fall from the throw. Braced herself on the table.
“Lies. You don’t love me. You’re infatuated with that mortal!!! A mortal, scum. Only good for eating unless they shouldn’t be human, and just turned! Never lie to me!!”
“I’m not infatuated-”
“You are, I won’t allow it. You follow him all you want, but he will die and go straight to heaven or hell!!. Not to us. Never to us!!! You are mines!”
“I’m not yours,” she hissed going towards him, “Never, yours. I want to turn that mortal. Love him, cause I could never love you.”
Cillian looked at her about ready to sneer. He did: “I gave you everything,” his sneered turned to an angry trembled. “I made you perfect. You repay me with this rot. Tell me of a love that doesn’t exist.”
“It exist completely. Stronger than yours ever was.”
He looked at her hurt, “A love you find from your eyes. Like I did with you, he want love you if you don’t even love me-”
“But he does love me. We’ve already shared his bed, Luv,” answered Adrian.
“You tell me this,” he snarled. “Make me angry? For what. Why don’t you love me? I loved you, gave you everything. Immortality, pretty dresses,” he was fed up at her. “I haven’t looked at woman, touched one, besides you. Besides for drinking them. Never. I do that-”
“Luv, it’s part of your personality,” assured Adrian.
So fed up, “I’m an evil soulless thing!” hissed Cillian, stepped towards her, “I cause trouble, havoc. I’m-”
“Big headed,” stated Adrian.
Cillian hit her in the face. She fell back on the bed, held her mouth from the blow. He kept talking, “But I loved you. Treated you well, and you go and share yourself with him, scum,” he stepped towards her as she stood up, “I ought to kill you.”
“You can’t,” she answered.
“You get me wrong there girl. Read the stories, I can’t be killed by even a slayer.”
“Just haven’t met the right one.”
“I treated you well, the best. I was good to you,” he hissed.
“I guess your not better than a mortal,” she got in his face.
He slammed her down on the bed against the head board and grabbed her by the hair with vampire speed and strength, “Don’t talk to me like that.”
Cillian kissed her hard on the mouth. She pushed him off her. He looked at her angrily. Her hands against his chest trying to pushed him away.
With his vampire speed his grabbed them. Strength slammed his hands against the head board and held them there. He kissed her hard again, and sat on top of her.
“I treated you well,” his final hiss.
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“So, have you seen her around?” asked Cillian standing next to a man at the bar, demon man.
“I don’t know, you haven’t shown me a picture,” stated the guy.
“I don’t have a bleedin’ picture,” spat Cillian, “For heaven’s sake, she’s from 1941, not many of my type are smart enough to make it that long. She’s noticeable.”
“Sorry, dude, can’t help you then,” assured the demon.
Cillian let out a low sigh, angry. He slammed his fist into the demon’s face and the beast flew back off the stool. Cillian grabbed the demon by it’s leather jacket and slid him down the bar, all the was down the counter. Making other demons angry.
He stood there. Slouched. Adjusted the sleeves on his suede coat, they went over his hand. Some demons stood up to him, “Wanna fight me?” he asked, “I’ve killed, 7 slayers, back down.”
All the demons that were standing sat down. They all got really quiet.
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~ 1941
Cillian stepped out of the Dinning room and closed the door behind him. He went over to the trash bin and dropped his bloody handkerchief into it. Licked his lips, he looked up at the ceiling, brushing his hair back off his face. It dangled down his shoulders.
Adrian walked into the room through the main parlor door. She was dressed in a red pock dotted white dress of silk with ruffles. Her hair was up in a bun, beautiful long curls dangling down from it.
“Where were you?” asked Cillian, relaxed, looking towards her.
“Fixing the problem,” she said putting her black bag she was carrying, putting it on the table, “I killed him. Drank him, dry. Just for you. Said good bye to my sweet Robert.”
Cillian looked down towards her, stepped closer to her, “Really?” His innocent relaxed look became suddenly suspicious.
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Just before Adrian had gotten back. It was finally sun down. Just turned to it so.
Cillian stood in the parlor, shirtless drinking some scotch. Didn’t mind a little every now and again. He put the glass down. Adrian was out, always out.
Of course Cillian knew why. And it wasn’t going to get to him yet. He stood there next to the table, looking at the glass. Listening to everything around him. Something wasn’t right.
Suddenly something ran at him out from under the drapes. Cillian swung around blocking the stake of the man that ran at him.
He punched the vamp in the face, kicked him in the stomach and stake went the ground. Cillian grabbed the vamp and threw him against the wall, “Who are you?”
“Robert,” hissed the vamp, “You stole her from me!!”
“Hate hurt your tender dead heart, you stole her from me,” answered Cillian upped cutting that vamp.
The vamp land on the couch and jump back up. That other vamp started circling Cillian. Everything was obvious to him, completely.
Cillian’s plain look turned to a smile, evil smile. But he wasn’t happy, “Another rooster in the hen house,” he sneered.
Robert went to punch him in the face. Cillian ducked out of the way spun around and stood 5 ft. from him. They circled each other. Robert tried to kick him.
Too late, Cillian saw it coming and grabbed his leg and spun him into the bedroom. Robert landed on the table in the bedroom and it smashed to the ground. He rolled back up quickly.
Robert’s face was still vamped out from when he entered the place. Cillian firmly walked towards Robert. He went to punch him in face. Robert grabbed his arm and acted like he was going to snap it.
Cillian jerked his arm real fast and slammed him into the bed post. Still held on he slammed him down on the floor. Grabbed him up by the back of his shirt and threw him up at the chandelier. He backed up and it fell to piece, glass rained to the floor.
Adrian’s little adulterous lover was having a hard time, blood going down his face. Cuts, his hand stung with cut as glass went into it. Lifting himself up off the floor he stood up. Pain.
Robert swung around to punch Cillian. Cillian ducked out of the way smoothly. Kicked him in the stomach. Robert hit the wall behind him and fell to his knees. More glass.
Cillian grabbed Robert by the hair and turned him around quickly. Robert just had to follow wherever his hair went. Cillian used just enough force to when he let go of the man’s head that man just went right into the wall. Not through it.
He was grabbed up behind and slammed back down in the rubble. Glass went inside his back. Cillian stood over him. Grabbed a stake off the ground and slammed it down to stake him. Robert grabbed the stake, halted him.
Cillian smiled that evil smile and with his left hand he jabbed another stake into his chest and pulled back. Robert became dust on the floor. He grabbed his shirt off the back of a chair and put it on.
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“Yes,” stated Adrian.
“I fought an Epic battle today,” answered Cillian.
“Did you kill another slayer my Luv?” she looked at him wide eyed from where she stood, like she was really interested.
“I killed Robert,” he said bluntly. Adrian didn’t say anything, Cillian continued, “Your precious Robert, he knew. About me. Angry, jealous bastard. Pure rage,” he smiled, “I put him down quick. I without a single scratch.”
Adrian swallowed.
“I knew your plan. Young, not stupid. You and Robert were going to rendezvous with him. Leave me. Know your plan. Cause your young, kinda stupid,” he stepped towards her.
“I’m not yours,” she stated, no hint of hurt, but she felt what she was hiding.
“I know,” sighed Cillian looking away, “That’s why I did what I did.”
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Cillian finished buttoning his shirt, standing in that New York Hotel room. He had plans. Killing Robert didn’t mess those plans up or anything.
He locked the door in that room and straightened up a little. No sign of battle around him. He brushed his hair off his face, soft hair. Went towards the door and would wait on his guests.
There was a knock at the door by the time Cillian looked at his grandfather clock. 9: 30. Many hours before dawn. He opened the door.
“Oh, what a beautiful home,” stated the oldest of the British women that entered.
There were 7 women. One older than 50. Two of them were in there 20s to 30s. They all had blonde hair. Then there was one with red hair, one with black and two little girls. Black hair, one a toddler.
In came 8 men, an older man. Older than the oldest woman and the rest were the brothers. This whole little family Adrian’s.
“Why thank you,” smiled Cillian closing the door behind him.
“So, where shall we dine?” asked the father, “I hope my future son in-law can vouch for a lovely dinning room.”
“Oh yes, in fact, the food isn’t ready, but I’d appreciate it if you’d sit anywhere. I have a surprise for each of you,” he smiled.
“Oh, surprises?” smiled a little girl, black haird girl being held by her daddy.
“Yes.”
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“What did you do?” questioned Adrian.
“Go into the dinning room
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