Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Immortal Quench ❯ A Marked Grave ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer : I do not own Gundam Wing or any of their luscious characters. But I do own the vampires! ............ok yeah. That was lame. sigh I got my idea from IW! Woot!

AU : Vampire Fiction

Immortal Quench

Chapter 1 : A marked Grave

I am the Vampire Trowa le Dafent. To others it's just Trowa. I'm twenty one and immortal. There's a saying about true vampires, "Born a Vampire, grow a Vampire, until your twenty first year and then live forever young."

Shall I begin like David Copperfield, I'm born, I grew up? Or shall I begin where I awoken a mortal sole to an immortal one? That is where I think I shall begin. The year was 1879. More or less the light of the sun, the sustained heat of the intense fire, lose of blood, and the light from the burning sun, were are all things that can kill an immortal sole, such as myself. I hide in darkness and have all my life. I've never seen the light of day. I've been an true vampire by blood since I was born. I never had the choice or the free will to choose as I wanted. Non of that matters now. I am who I am, and always will be Trowa.

My face is pale, my veins exposing themselves though my skin. It would usually only get like that when I didn't eat enough. My face always stayed that off white. Blood was my entire existence. I fed off of rats, mice, doves and any other small rodents or birds. But, once every two weeks I was allowed to feed upon the living mortals. As much as I wanted to feed every night on their beautiful, rich, yet succulent blood, I could not. Mortals would catch on and soon me, and my kind would be hunted down and killed. I couldn't take that chance.

My body grows weak when I have nothing to feed on. I get slow and helpless, and lusting for the taste of that sweet liquid. My body was dead long ago, and the more blood I consume, the stronger I get, and the stronger I feel. My face begins to get back it's color and strength. Human Mortal blood gave me that which I needed. It was so rich and tender.

So that one day out of two weeks I looked forward to.

I lived in a small mansion, alone. I moved from Paris about one hundred years ago to this day. Later that same year I moved, my family and siblings were murdered as they were found out by the local villagers. Now usually a vampire could escape. But their raid was done during the morning light, where we would be slumbering inside our coffins. They set the castle on fire and my family was burnt to ashes, trapped inside the basement. I was now the new heir to my family's estate. Not the one which was burnt, but the one on the other side of Paris, a small castle which was never known or touched by anyone. I often wondered what happened to that place, as my elder brother Arnome was to take it's heir after my crippled and blind father. It was now mine and I never touched foot inside it. I never really understood why.

The years got to me, and soon it wasn't long before I felt lonely. I, being a true vampire, had the power which a lot of them longed for. The power to give birth to our kind. This was simply done by feeding a mortal our blood, but in a certain manner. That's why only a few true vampires had this ability, as many misused it's terrible yet beautiful powers. I had this gift. The gift to create our own. It had rules, and rules which must be followed and never broken. Never bite a youth under the human age of fifteen, for the young will grow old within the child's corpse. But along with that, the youth may become uncontrollable. Where as anyone over that age group will be easier to control by their master. The old and crippled shall not be bitten as well, for obvious reasons.

I had been keeping my eye out for the perfect suspect. The perfect being which I would transform into a beautiful beast. I would usually wait down the dark ally's, deep in the belly of SanFransisco. Candle light was all that filled the streets. Horses moved a long the stone roads, and whores moved themselves up and down the streets. Their long dresses, silky white. But my lips would never touch their necks, or taste their contaminated blood. They were the only thing that I didn't touch. They were just to dirty for an aristocrat like myself. I had my tastes set higher.

Now remember this was the time of the eighteenth century, the time where white-wigged aristocrats tip-toed around in high heel boots and had their nose pointed towards the heavens. It was a real sight actually. The car was not invented, as it is now, and there was no artificial light. Only that from candles. Horses were our transportation, and chandelier's were are treasure.

Candle light did not effect me, it just showed the mortals as to what I really was. And if they were dense enough, they just thought I was sick. The veins pulsing out of head like a mad man. A real horror. So I made sure that I was up to par and I would go out at night, feast on a mortal and then regain the color in my face. To then, I would walk around in the darkness, trying my best to avoid the light. Keep in mind that the candle lights are much less dim then the fake lights you mortals have now. My fingernails were probably the most obvious that I was not human. They were some what long, and they looked just like glass. If you have any knowledge of vampires you would know that we cannot altar our appearances, such as cut our hair. It just grows back to the way it was on our twenty first year. Now with the mortals who were changed into one of us, same goes for them. But as they change, their hair usually curls a bit more. My hair surprisingly wasn't long like the others of this time. It was short, and spiked over my left eye. I somehow had this idea that if I cut it, and then stayed like this, I would be able to walk where ever and do as I pleased. But unfortunately that wasn't the case. My mother had warned me of this, but I was to stubborn to listen to her. Now It seems as if I am the only one with this short hair like style. But I knew that it would soon become popular as the centuries passed.

I wore black pants, and a white blouse-like shirt. Frills around my wrists, and it open at my neck. I had black high-heeled boots, blending in nicely with my ebony slacks. This is what I wore inside my mansion, but when I wanted to make an appearance outside of my estate, I would slip on my tight dark navy blue and gold lined vest. Clasping it's self around me. It buttoned up at the back, which I was quiet capable of doing myself. My lips were a nice dark succulent pink, and my eyes were a beautiful feline emerald green. My eyes were different from a mortal's as well. They were streaked with black. This just allowed my to see in the darkness. I usually saw color in shades of greens. But that was only when I am starved for blood. Once I regain my strength my sense of color comes back full force and I am able to see with all the hughs.

Being around of the last two-hundred years, I worked on my skills. All vampires have the gift to seduce their victim while feeding on them at the same time. If you were able to do this, then your victim would not scream, they would not scare and they would not feel. Doing this allowed you to feed, feel satisfied at the same time. Now I consider myself a professional at this. I can do it with ease. But, if you loose your concentration, which has only happened once; as I was trying to prove a point, the mortal will feel the pain and scream into the night. Un-experienced vampires, such as those which are created, just feed. They don't think of the consequences of their actions. I've seen this a million times. I just felt the need now, to create a brother, to give to him this power that I have, to show him what life I really like. It takes years and years of practice to seduce your victim. But, if you are with one which has experience, such as myself, you do not need to worry.

I have a pet peeve. I use my teeth, but I've always thought of myself as to sophisticated to do such. Now, if I was starved for blood, yes I would, but that was something all together different. I made myself a metal thumb pick, with a sharp, sharp spike on the end, enabling me to Pierce any vein or artery. I would often use this tool, as I could seduce with my face, my body, and strike with my hand.

I was always taught, never drink from the dead, and never drink until the victims heart stops. Always leave it beating. You could the odd time, let the person live. That was only if your were keen enough to bite, drink and be gone before they knew what had happened to them.

Vampires are not bad creatures, as that seems to be the case on how I'm telling you. We are not murders, we are not killers. Yes, we take lives, but we do it to survive. Personally, I never liked to kill. But the more I aged, the older I became, the more I grew to love it. It's weird, but I did. It was all just a game to me. Hide and seek if you will. We are innocent, but at the same time we are damned to Hell by every living thing. We are smart, and we are passionate. I love who I am. I learned to love myself and all it's glory of being who, and what I was. A vampire.

It was late August in New Orlene's. The water already cold, and your breath seeming to be visible, yet not at the same time. Winter was on it's way. I loved winter, shorter days meant longer nights. I got myself dressed to move outward, into the festables which were being held by the villagers and their slaves.

I sat at a table, one candle sat upon the stained cloth. The light just visible on my drained face. I searched with my eyes. Looking for him. The mortal's moved around the stage in frilly dress's and full faced make-up. A play of love. Seven actors moved about, speaking their lines, their sentences. Making the crowd laugh. Drums banged, and people sang. I was in the center of the fest, searching still.

My black hat covered my face, as I bent it down staring at the earth below me. Rat's and insects would come to me, follow me and squirm up from deep within the soil from which they came. The maggots and centipede's crawled upon my black boots, while the worms just squirmed beside them. My black coat was done up around my body, frills hanging out from my cuff's. My eyes gleamed though the darkness, the candle light half upon my famished face. My skin was cold. I needed to feed. Once I did my blood would warm and I would be myself again. If I'm on a role, I would usually take two or three victims a night. That was only if I were good enough to do so. It was all about seduction and my capability. My hand lay upon a silver decaled cup, full of red wine as my eyes scanned the beings which moved in front of me. Their scent strong, and when they spoke, the thickest walls could not prevent me from hearing their words. I heard their thoughts, as they all came to me in a blast of words. Unhappiness, misery, lust, happiness. They were all currents in the cold dry air of New Orlene's. But not all of us are capable of doing such, as each of us are uniquely ourselves. Thoughts came to me by words. Sometimes only one. But one was all I needed. I listened intensively, trying to find their deepest and darkest secrets. My mind dashing forward from human to human.

'I killed my husband'

'I had an affair'

'Dying'

'Marstil is going to kill my wife'

'Which Craft'

'Love'

'Hate'

'Friendship'

'Suicide..'
My eyes opened. The last thought I heard. That word. That single thought. He was the one. He was simply begging for another life. I closed my bright eyes again, concentrating on him. His thoughts and soon, his life. He seemed to be exactly what I wanted, graceful and fastidious of manner, who seemed in his cynicism and self destructiveness the very twin of my former lover. I lifted the silver cup towards my soft, dark pink lips, drinking the last of the wine. my fangs rested upon my lower lip as I grinned. I moved the cup upside down, and moved it slowly over the candle. "And then the light was no more." I whispered. The tiny flame burnt out as I removed myself from the table.

I could feel him. He was by the docks. I walked towards them, keeping my keen eyes about me. My boot's crossed the old wooden planks. They creaked as I stepped upon them. As I got closer to him, I could feel his anger, his rage, his sorrow. I grinned widely, he was what I wanted, what I needed. I stopped dead. The water's wind passing over my clothes. There he was, sitting by a crate. Arms folded around his knee's. A knife at his side. He was dressed in all black, long chestnut hair tied back. His boots, black, and his ivory socks went up to his knee's, his pants tucked in around them. The style of this century was by far the best. He looked drained as he sat there. His thoughts merged with my own, creating a vision. I was around the corner in the black of night. Hidden from him. I communicated with him, though my mouth did not move.

'Once cut, the light will fade.....' I whispered it long and low in his mind. The boy jumped up fast. Eye's wide. I could hear his soft heart beating from where I was standing. I licked my lips. I could see him whole now. He looked about my age. Maybe younger. But I couldn't tell off hand. He looked around, frightened almost. I spoke to him again. 'Is death what you really desire?' I now stood in front of him. He fell backward, staring up at me with his wide cobalt eyes. He looked up into my dark emerald ones shinning within the darkness. I moved in quick for his neck. I lunged forward. I could see the artery pumping his sweet blood. It forked out and I opened my mouth, piercing the skin. He tensed up, digging his nails into my sides. His feet kicked, but not a word escaped his dry mouth. I pushed my fangs in deeper. I felt the blood run past my teeth, I removed my fangs and bit into him twice more. Six sets of teeth marks were scard on his neck. The blood moved down his neck slowly. I moved my tongue around the open wound, pulling and sucking the sweet liquid in. My mouth watered as I felt it fill my mouth. I was at peace, a great noise echoing all around me, enveloping me, it's sound washing through me so that I felt the most extraordinary pleasure through all of my limbs. The boy's head was arched back by now, breathing heavy as I drained him. He now, no longer felt pain, but pleasure. It coursed though him as it did though me. I was at peace every time I killed, and I was in love with my immortal nature. His blood was so sweet and tender. It took me all my will to remove my lips and fangs from his pierced and bloody neck.

He lay on his back, the wooden boards beneath him. The thick red blood dripped from my chin in long thick strands. It stained my teeth for the time being. I grinned as he lay there, helpless and almost immobile. His breathing was getting more shallow with every breath. His eyes half shut, staring at me. Looking at me as if asking why. I laughed and bent my head down beside his ear, he flinched.

"Do you still want death?" I whispered, my body almost parallel to his own. "Or have you tasted it enough?" I moved my hand over his face, caressing it slightly. He said nothing. Just a look of panic upon his dying face. My flesh became warm once more, my face and nice shade of peach. "Life has no meaning anymore, does it?" he tried to move backward, afraid of what I might do. I leaned up off him. "What if I could give it back to you? Pluck out the pain, and give you another life. One you could never imagine." I moved a bit closer, "It would be for all time, and sickness and death could never touch you again."

He tried to move and speak. But, was unable to, his eyes closed and he passed out. I rolled my eyes. He wasn't dead. It would take a lot longer to do so. The holes in his neck were no longer pouring blood, they clogged up fast. Our saliva helps with this process. My grin was gone, and soon I just picked him up. Blood stained upon the wood. I rose him up, and walked back to my mansion. The dark road I took, slow and meaning full. Instantly, I felt a sense of peace come over me. I felt for this mortal, and soon we could share our lives together.

A whole day had passed before he awoken. He could not of had better timing. The sun had just set, the darkness consuming the light. I awoken from my coffin as soon as the light of day had ended. I moved myself upstairs, toward the guest bedroom. There he was, sleeping still. The bed had large frills like curtains, which hung over the bed like a screen. I stayed there for a while before his eyes eventually opened.

Slowly they did so. And, as he did he saw me in the shadow of the room. He sat up quick reaching for his gun. "Who are you!" I could see the fear in his eyes.

I moved around the bed, my face just visible through the curtains. I stuck out my hand and pulled it back. "Trowa le Dafent." I moved closer towards his face, starring into his beautiful eyes. "You were planning on dying last night, am I right?" his eyes got serious on me and I almost frowned jokingly, "I came to your call. To put you out of your misery."

"I never asked anyone for help." He tried to move back and then winced at the pain of his neck and moved his hand towards it. His fingers felt the torn flesh. "You did this to me..."

I grinned back at him. "Indeed I did." I watched him take out his gun from the holder. "Do you remember my offer?"

He pointed the barrel at my head, "Get away from me you bastard!"

This did nothing but widen my grin. "What are you going to do? shoot me?" he pulled the trigger. The bullet pieced though my head, blood splattered everywhere. My body tingled and I felt myself regenerate. I laughed louder as he watched in horror at my resurrection. My head still in two I spoke out towards him. "Foolish boy. Bullets cannot kill me. I am immortal." My eyes moved back as my face came together like a puzzle. I felt the bullet push it's self out of my skull. My head was back to normal as I cracked it from side to side, stretching it.

He jumped back, "Fucking monster..." he seemed to whisper in disbelief to himself.

I grinned back at him and then just lunged right at his throat once more, I pulled him to my lips, digging my teeth in this time without a care of who heard. I sucked, and pulled the blood from his jugular. I felt it gush into my mouth more furious then ever. He made some noises as I pinned him there, to the bed. His arms around me, trying to push me off. Struggling with all the strength he had left to fight me off. I listened to his beat. The slowing rhythm of his heart. I stopped and moved toward his ear, pinned on top of him. The blood moved upon the cotton fibers, slowly staining each one a rich dark red. My lips touched his ear, "Do you want death?" I asked him again. I could see him coughing. Struggling to move, and gasping for air. "I've drained you to the point of death. If I leave you here, you die. Or you can be young always my friend, as you are now. But you must tell me, will you come or no?" He stared at me, with his dying blue eyes.

"Ye-" he moved his hand more to the right, still gasping, "..Yes..."

Those were the only words I need to hear. I felt my heart start to pump wildly. I lifted his face, holding it in my right hand. I lifted my left hand and gashed my own throat with my sharp clear nails. The boy's eyes opened wide, screaming from the inside. I moved closer and pressed his face to my wound. "Drink." I said. He tried to refuse, but a tiny drip of my poison blood touched his dry parted lips. He lit up, I saw the hunger and the need for more. He attached himself to my neck, disabling me from moving. His hunger grew more as I felt my self being drained. He was taking to much. "That's enough." I said, pain almost present on my face. He was taking my life, without blood I would shrivel. He grasped his arms around my head tighter. "Stop!" he did nothing of the such. I pushed back as much as I could and he released me. I fell backward and off the bed, holding my wound. It would heal in a matter of seconds. But the pain still was felt.

He screamed with pain, almost deafening me. He grunted and moaned in pain. Grabbing his stomach and throat. He gagged a couple of times as I sat breathing heavy and grinning. He puked all over the sheets, blood mixed with-in the acidic mixture.

"Your body's dying.." I grinned, "The blood is cleaning out your system, killing it if you will."

He convulsed and secured for a couple of minutes.

Then there was silence. Stillness.

I watched as his fangs grew within his dead body, his eyes still open. His corpse lying there.

A breath.

He eyes opened. What a beautiful color they were. A stunning bright blue with black which ran though them. He was mine. I created him. His face became pail, and his veins became evident. He sat up and starred directly at me. I could tell he was confused about what had just happened, if anything he forgot his past life. But I wasn't sure.

"What do you see?" I questioned him. "Now you are a creature of the night. You're eyes and ears are your guide. Your hearing will be more sensitive now."

"Where am I?" he turned to look at me.

"I gave you another life. One with immortality." I had my knee up and my arm resting on it with a wide grin, "Tell me, what is your name boy?"

"Duo." he looked around the room. "Duo Maxwell."

I smirked, "How old might your body be?"

"Twenty."

I grinned. One year younger then my living corpse. "Perfect!" I stood up. "Duo. Prepare to live a life, like no other."