Black Widower 1.3A

 

Angelo knew alright, he was barely able to keep his tiger in its cage. He'd done this so many times but there were things about bringing a new pidgeon into the fold that he'd never get used to or tired of. The feeling of having gone through the ringer was definitely one of them.

He had nothing left of Weasel in his veins, nothing but his own blood, and that would have to be remedied damn soon. Creating new kids was draining, physically, and psychically, mostly because he had to fight his instincts and the urge to suck the pidgeon dry. Getting juiced himself added to this, and with a Sleeper, everything had been multplied ten-fold.

Weasel's greediness told Angelo that his pidgeon was going to have a tremendous appetite when the Change was complete. The first lesson Weasel would probably learn was how to get rid of his empties.

His pidgeon, of course was going through misery of his own, though he said nothing, just clung tight to Angelo as he withstood the pain of his body's rapid changes. Unfortunately, some changes wouldn't be fast enough, like his new blood. The cells were doing their job, consuming the old blood cells and creating new ones, but the enzymes that would enable him to break down and digest his first meal were not complete yet. That meant Angelo would have to mama-bird him: juicing then feeding his baby bird the broken down blood. Which meant that after that, he'd have to juice again for himself.

The tiger was now rattling its cage. As much as he liked holding Weasel, he needed to get both of them relief.

Angelo pried his pidgeon off him, picked up their clothes and handed Weasel's to him, telling him to get dressed for the company he was bringing down.

Angelo got dressed himself, then said, (I'll be back. Stay on the bed, and keep one thing in mind. You're going to have to do this through me. You'll get violently ill if you try to juice someone yourself.)

Predictably Mr. Nosy demanded to know why. Angelo didn't have the patience for this. (Vlaka! Because if you try something so stupid, the pain you feel now will be nothing compared to what you'll feel like after I'm through with you.) Angelo's voice was soft but menacing.

Weasel shut up after that. Sledgehammers worked wonders.

Angelo left the room and went up to the bar to talk to Amorette.

(You look like hell.) she remarked.

He ignored her. (See that no one bothers him.)

Amorette laughed. (You kidding? Any juicer stupid enough to walk into that tiger's den will get what they deserve, mmmm?)

Indeed.

Then Amorette told him about a girl waiting upstairs for him. One he knew well.

(What is Lilica doing here?)

(She's getting jealous, cher. She's probably figured out you're laying her and her boyfriend, and that does not make her a happy camper.)

(So you told her I'm here.)

Amorette nodded. (I figured the timing couldn't be better, oui?)

A special delivery, just for him. Very nice.

Under regular circumstances he could feel her, but now his senses were overloaded with every breather in the Nocturne and he couldn't just zero in. (Where is she?)

(By the dance floor.) Amorette giggled. (By the way, guess who else is here.)

Angelo groaned. (Not Tomas!)

(She has another boyfriend?)

Angelo swore.

(He's special to you?) she asked.

(In a way. Not special enough that I didn't jump him.)

(Vraiment? You jump almost anybody, sweet Angelo.)

(Not everybody) Angelo corrected. (Not Lilica.) He wished he did. That would've made her so much easier to find.

(Excusez-moi. Any pretty thing you don't fancy enough to make one of us. That covers a lot of ground.)

Angelo snickered. (As if you're so choosy about who you jump, dearheart.)

(We're not talking about me. And stop stalling. Your groupies await.)

Angelo shrugged. (Whatever.)

(Just one question, mon chou. Were you going to make him one of us?)

(Not anymore,) Angelo growled before phasing out.

A barely visible mist now, he floated through the floors, a short-cut he'd have to show his pidgeon, reached the main floor of the Nocturne and floated until he reached the back of the bar, where Dimitri was still tending.

Making sure no breather could see him, Angelo rematerialized, his eyes scanning the room.

Dimitri took one look at him and knew what happened. (You did it tonight?)

Angelo weakly nodded, barely having the strength to speak.

(And he's down there still?) Dimitri grinned evily. (All alone.)

Fuck that! Angelo met his eyes and somehow found the strength to speak. (Touch him and you're dead, cousin.) He gave Dimitri the equivalent of a psychic shove to emphasize the idea. (Trulydead.)

(Agapi mou,) Dimitri tried to sweeten, (I was only kidding.) He knew Angelo well enough to take him seriously.

He should. Angelo never threatened. He promised.

Angelo tried again to sense Lilica. It was no use, there were just too many breathers for him to be able to distinguish any scent from another.

(Skase, Dimitri. Just tell me if you've seen Lilica around here tonight.)

(Yeah, she's been trolling the room for you.)

Wonderful. (Do me a big favor, cousin. Stall Lilica if you see her, okay?)

Dimitri leaned forward and kissed Angelo affectionately on the lips. (For you, glike mou, anything.)

(And Dimitri?)

(Yeah?)

(If you see Tomas, tell him to get the fucking hell out of here.)

(Dimitri's eyes glittered with malice. (Sure thing.)

(I mean it. Throw him out bodily if you have to.)

(If you say so.) Dimitri was all innocence. Then the look turned to true concern. (You better get something in you soon, Angelo. You don't look good.)

That was exactly what Angelo intended to do, only he was so hungry that he couldn't even smell the impurities, no way for him to tell who was toxic with drugs or drink, or who was sick with disease. The Tiger was so impatient that everybody smelled clean and so good...

(Ya chara, Dimitri.) Angelo left him and as he walked, he cursed to himself because straight ahead was the very person he wanted most to avoid.

He could feel Tomas walking towards him, tonight his long black hair was swept up into a braid, he looked very fetching, which only made Angelo's hunger rise.

He smelled so good, so enticing that Angelo involuntarily licked his lips.

Don't do this, he told himself. You don't want to do this.

But a large part of him did want to do this, and that part was quickly overpowering any part of him that didn't.

The Tiger wasn't being subtle this time, its pounding made Angelo double over in pain. He couldn't wait any longer, it wouldn't let him and frankly he didn't want to anymore.

This was not going to be pretty. Or neat.

Angelo's muscles tensed in anticipation, as Tomas drew closer. Then he sprang, taking Tomas from behind and dragged him towards the back, into the storeroom before the poor thing was even aware of what was happening.

Maybe he could compromise, just take what he needed and make it pleasurable for the both of them.
But now Tomas now saw him. Saw his drawn face, the glowing eyes, and fear radiated from him like a nuclear core. Too scared to say a word. He didn't want this fear, he wanted pleasure from Tomas but it just wasn't going to happen, and as the tang of adrenaline hit Angelo's nose his teeth ached in response. He liked, loved fear. He loved the taste, loved being high on adrenaline.

But not Tomas's.

Unfortunately what his heart wanted and his body wanted were two different things, and he just didn't feel like keeping the Tiger locked up anymore. So he let it out of its cage and went feral.

Angelo grabbed Tomas's braid and yanked his head back. Then he tore Tomas's throat out, greedily slurping all the gore that spattered, swallowing bits of flesh as well, but not enough that he couldn't digest it, then sucking him dry so that all that was left was a dried out husk.

Disgusted, Angelo threw what was left of Tomas on the storeroom floor. What the hell did he just do?
He hated messy kills, hating killing someone he cared about, especially so violently, losing control. Yet, it satisfied him more than any other kind of kill. As much as he hated doing it, he loved it too much to stop.

He eyed Tomas's still warm body, knowing there would be a very easy way to get rid of this empty...

Not in this form. And he wasn't that desperate.

That decided, Angelo carried Tomas's body out the back door of the storeroom, walking a few steps until he reached the dumpster. Normally he wouldn't be so reckless, there was nothing recognizable about Tomas now.

He went back into the storeroom, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, then licking it clean. He looked into the mirror on the wall, easy now that he juiced and now had substance. The eyes were pink now, and his face was flushed, but at least he didn't look like death warmed over.

Though in a way, that was exactly what he was.

It was at times like this, Angelo wished he was still capable of crying. But his tears had tried up too long ago for him to remember.

There was one way to assuage this pain. A way that would be extremely satisfying.

He ran his fingers through his curls and made sure his mouth and face were clean. Then he went to go find Lilica.

Black Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2004

Page Last Updated 9/11/04