|Blogs > rm_TezriansKill > Tezrian's Rantings|
All right I feel like posting a story I wrote. Hope you like it, it not one of my best but I still like it. Enjoy!
The shrouded figure walked along the shadowy rooftops, unobserved by the sparse few below. Coming to a halt near the corner of the building the shadow allowed the wind to blow the hood away, revealing a beautiful face beneath. The nineteen year old woman stared down the street, bluish grey eyes cold and calculating as she heard the voices in her head begin anew, the memories of the day before.
“This is your target.” The man’s voice was older, time worn by the seventy years he had been alive. She remembered taking the folder and flipping through its contents.
“To all those around him he is known as Asmodeus and he is the Silver Killer.” She recalled how anger and hatred welled up from deep inside her; she had seen many of her friends die by his hand and would see him stopped. “He is from a long lineage of Hunters and he has stumbled upon a new way to eradicate his enemy. He has come to understand that the legend about silver is true, if he learns of anymore secrets more will die and at more regular intervals.” The voice faded as more memories, like movies, bombarded her vision.
“Ya know it’s kinda funny?” Another woman the same age lounged in a comfy chair, russet eyes fixed on the other girl.
“What is?” She sighed while she paced the length of the elongated room.
“How similar the two of your names are.” As she lounged she fiddled with her long auburn braid, tossing the lengthy rope of hair back and forth between her hands. “I mean Asmodeus and Ashtaroth, pretty similar, and both have similar pasts too. Asmodeus was a god of lust and Ashtaroth was a goddess of lust...” The girl was about to add something when Ashtaroth stopped her.
“Tezrian…” The growl that trickled from her lips was not human. Tezrian stopped.
“Sorry… You know what happens whe-“She was cut off yet again.
“I know, now shut up.” Ash ran a hand through her short blond hair, she needed another hair cut, it was getting too long to spike. A sharp bell rang and Tezrian slinked out of the chair with grace.
“Well that means I’ve got something else to do. See ya around Ash, and be careful, who else is gonna keep me in check?” The girl walked down the hall, long hair swaying as she waked, hitting the back of her knees.
Ashtaroth came back to reality when she heard a fight erupt beneath her.
“I will have vengeance for all those that have been slaughtered; their souls will rest in peace once his blood has coated my blades and his heart no longer beats.” Ash’s hand curled into a fist, the black leather surrounding it protested at the sudden violent movement.
Rocking back once she leaped across the large gap between the buildings. She landed with near silence with the grace of an animal as if she had been born to do it. She had 10 minutes to get to the club where Asmodeus was and only a little more time to execute her well thought up plan. She hated costume parties especially when she was forbidden to use the costume she would have used on any other occasion.
Walking the rest of the way she touched her hidden knives for reassurance and thought of the days past, all of the murders that had taken place and why their leaders had chosen her to take on this plan.
“Why aren’t you coming with me this time?” Ash looked confused as she searched though her closet, Tezrian sat on the large bed, sharpening a knife.
“I’m going out of town, remember?” Tezrian had lost her giddiness and was back to being her usual self.
“But why now? Why not do it after this mission. We’ve always completed our missions together.” Ashtaroth glared at her clothes as if they had done something wrong. “Besides, you’re better at these kinds of parties, theirs always too many people in such a small space. Taking people out from a distance is more my style.” She glanced at her custom crossbow and set of throwing knives. Most of her weapons were on her extensive rack on the wall, only a few were not and they were kept well hidden.
“Maybe the council thought that since you swore vengeance against him that you would want to do it, or maybe because he slaughtered Blyth and Ronan that it would be just that you took his life.” With the mention of her brother and her beloved she punched the wall. A crack appeared in the thick wood and Tezrian almost stopped talking.
“That is probably why they are sending you. It could even be some stupid reason, I don’t know, I’m not in their high and mighty circle.” The hair on Tezrians neck stood on end, she was ready for a fight if Ashtaroth wanted it.
“Whatever, just help me pick out something to wear.” With that the tension in the room drained as they readied Ashtaroth for the kill of a lifetime.
As she reached the last building she could be on Ash glared at the building and then looked toward the sky, finding where the new moon was veiled in darkness, it called to her strongly that night.
“Diana, goddess of the moon, help guide my blade tonight, keep me in check.” The whispered request was made as she jumped from the building to the cracked pavement below. No one had seen her, the alleyway was completely vacant.
The hunter knew one of their secrets; silver was their enemy and would cause damage to all who touched it. She hoped he didn’t know another, one that would disprove one legend about them. She was tied to the moon but not when they thought, the new moon was their bane.
“ID?” The large bouncer looked the cloaked figure over, wishing he could see all of her. Ash pulled her new ID out without a word and showed it to him along with her pass for the night. “Welcome to the Snake Pit, Miss Mauve.” Without looking back Ash walked in.
The music was loud and blaring and the flashing lights bothered her sensitive eyes. Grumbling internally she walked over to the coat girl and pulled off her obsidian cloak. A few of the men that walked by stopped and looked at her, she had defiantly not picked out the costume, she owed Tezrian something in return when she was done.
The little she was wearing drew attention to all the men around her. Tezrian had found a costume that was almost exactly like the vampire Akasha minus her hair piece and it covered a bit more of her chest. Her wrist sheaths were visible but many would believe it part of the costume, while more knives were beneath the skirt, just waiting to be used. The only part of the costume she really complained about was her tattoo was exposed, Ashtaroth always kept her tattoo covered.
Between her shoulder blades was a large wolf. Looking straight at it, the beast seemed to rip through her skin. Pure black fur looked touchable and soft while its bright blue eyes promised pain and vengeance. Jaws open in a snarl and blood coating its paws, the creature seemed alive, ready to protect its wearer if anyone came close enough, she kept it covered for a reason. Dealing with the anger she weaved her way through the crowd, searching for Asmodeus.
Stopping near the edge of the floor she felt frustrated, she couldn’t find him. The man next to her turned around and she met his multi colored exotic eyes with her own. She recognized the strange eyes from the picture she had seen and looked him over, checking to see if it wasn’t some other with the same eyes. She was wrong, it was Asmodeus.
His build reminded her of an elf, a very sexy elf. His shoulders weren’t too broad and his slender body was perfect for his costume, a dark elf, even had a bow and arrows strapped to his back. His long silky ebony hair was free to sway as he moved. While she watched he tucked the strands behind his fake pointed ears and smiled at her.
“I haven’t seen you around here before, beautiful.” The smile he gave her could melt even the coldest heart. She didn’t dare speak; too many strange emotions would bring on parts of the change. She was a master but compared to all of her other enemies he was an enigma, he didn’t even smell completely human.
“My friends call me Asmodeus.” He came closer, pulling her in to dance.
“Then what do your enemies call you?” A dark glimmer flashed in her eyes as they slowly turned bluer and bluer as she looked up at him.
“Nothing, anyone who becomes my enemy always ends up not being able to speak.” To him it was a strange question but he ignored it, he was too engrossed in figuring out the tantalizing seductress in front of him.
“Is that so?” Inside she was ready to kill him, pictures of her beloved Ronan and her brother Blyth flitted through her mind, reminding her of why she was there.
“Oh yes, I never play around with my enemies.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” She licked her lips slowly, drawing his attention.
“So what can I call you, or should I just keep it as beautiful?” He leaned closer, his breath played across her face.
“You can call me Ash.” She said in such a way to give the illusion that only he could call her that, she was good.
“Ash, strange, but beautiful, what is it short for?” He was engrossed in her, wanting to know everything possible about her, unable to turn away.
“Ashtaroth.” She said it low, making it sound lust filled to his ears.
“Now that is better, so exotic and unusual, it suits you perfectly.” He slowly led her towards the edge of the dance floor, full intent on seducing her.
“Similar to yours.” Biting back the initial disgust she ran a hand down his chest. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, there was something strange about him that she could not place. She needed to ferret out his secrets before he was killed.
“That is true, how would you like to go upstairs and have a drink with me?” The promise of sex was strong in his body language, scent, and eyes.
“Sure.” He extended his arm and she took it. The touch scent a shiver down her spine, her mission was going to be completed. She would have her revenge and rid the city of another Hunter.
They walked up the polished staircase and to the second floor of the expensive house. Many of the rooms were occupied with drunken guests; others were empty but were passed by without a glance. When they reached the last room in the hallway he went through the door, pulling her through.
The lights were off, and with no moon the room was dark. She could see buy had to feign blindness to seem human. Great bay windows looked out over the river that ran through the middle of the city. The clear night was perfect. The lights came on and Ashtaroth was momentarily blinded. The room was remarkable; gargoyles lined the shelves along the ceiling. An ancient gothic theme reminded her of the older rooms within their dens. The bed was covered in black silk sheets, accented with hunter green pillows and throw.
Asmodeus turned to her, his shirt open, showing several strange scars. To her sharp eyes she could see the similarity to claws, both catlike and doglike. She hoped that either her brother or lover had given him one of the scars. He walked past her and retrieved a bottle of wine that had been left to chill in a bucket full of ice. To her nose the drink smelled wonderful, and to her taste buds it was heaven. Ashtaroth had a weakness for a good drink, and what she held I her hand was to die for.
As she drank and looked out the window into the deepening night Asmodeus came up behind her and began to kiss her neck. The need to get away and kill him was so strong she thought he felt her anger inside. He continued when she did not stop him and began to unhook the intricate latch that held the metal and cloth shirt up. The bands on her arms soon followed in a heap on the floor.
She turned to him before he could undo the skirt. Framed by the darkness Ashtaroth looked unreal, a supernatural being that should not have been standing before him. His dark eye flickered to the knife sheaths along her wrists, taking them to be phony and was willing to let her keep them. He watched as the skirt fell and only two more sheaths graced her body. Her few scars that were visible but none were unique or recognizable as animal shaped. She looked completely human.
She had not noticed that his clothes were gone. Then the scent hit her, the smell of his arousal, the musky scent that told her how much he wanted her. He studied her as she stood perfectly still in the starlight. In three powerful strides he closed the gap between them and picked her up.
She felt his muscles move and ripple beneath his thin skin, his blood beckoned her senses, urging her to change and feed. Fighting those primary instincts she allowed herself to be laid down in the dark bed. The hunger in her eyes was real enough, just not the hunger that filled him.
In his haze of lust he failed to see the difference and slowly began to caress her fair skin. Hypersensitive skin magnified the feather light touches; every tiny brush against flesh brought her away from thoughts of revenge. The teasing was getting to her, making her want more, wanting him to finish what he had begun on the dance floor.
The need was intense, more then she could handle. They toying was killing her in more ways then one. Her hard earned control was slipping, she had to wait to change or else the night would end sooner then planned. She arced into his touch as his teeth grazed along her neck ever so slightly.
The first thrust sent her senses into overload along with the firm bite he had upon the junction between shoulder and neck. The sounds coming from her throat shocked even herself as her legs wrapped around him with an urgent force. The strength behind each and every push into her body was phenomenal. With her face so close to his skin, to his tasty flesh she couldn’t help but notice the strange mixture he smelled of.
All species smelled differently, he was a unique smell, one that wasn’t simple. She bit into his skin, the shoulder that was closest to her face. She managed to break through and small droplets of blood touched her lips. Her senses flared, what she had thought, what generations had thought had been wrong. Asmodeus was something different all together, something she believed to be impossible.
She was broken out of her thoughts as his teeth sunk into a tender nipple. His hands were digging into her hips; the bruises that formed were quickly healed. She watched as the mark on his neck stayed, only closing slightly.
Pounding into her she could feel his need for release. The tension in him was greater then she could imagine. Other things came into her head, impression that she received from the small amount of blood she had consumed. The need to destroy that which had been taken away what had been close to him was so thick she nearly howled. They were too similar, each had loved ones killed, and each was sworn to kill each other. It was as if fate had been cruel, she had been the only man, human or non, that sparked her interest since Ronan had died. She could feel it within him that something similar had happened to him.
She bit down again, needing to taste his addicting blood, as if it were a fine wine, one of which you could never get enough of. She could feel her eyesight sharpen slightly; the change was nearly upon her. Lust rode them to a height that few others could have achieved. Her hands were buried within his hair, digging into the scalp, moving his face where she wanted it.
Her muscles began to clench slightly, a forewarning she was near. He groaned as he felt it, even the slightest movement she made was nearly more then he could take. The deeper he went the tighter she seemed to become, but he knew it to bee an illusion of his one track mind.
Then as suddenly as he had entered her she began to ripple around him. The force was a shock to his aching cock. Nothing could have been more perfect to him, the strength of the tremors were just right to start his own release, one that rocked his body. He threw his head back and a growl passed through his throat, covering up the less human like one she uttered.
Just as she came down from her flight into heaven she watched as he rolled off and to the side, looking as though he were to fall asleep. She sprung out of bed with the grace otherworldly and stood at the window yet again. This time, the beast beat at her internally, clawing at her insides.
“Come back Ash, I promise not to bite anymore unless you tell me to.” He laid there, watching her like a hawk would prey. Her hands trembled against her thighs; she had to change before it was forced upon her.
“Did you ever think you could hide your secret?” Her voice was low, near growl, her throat had begun to change, morph into a more lupine form.
“What?” His eyes narrowed and his body tensed. She could see each muscle, each separate tendon, he was on high alert.
“That terrible affliction that has infected your body… Who was it, your mother or your father that was one of us?” Bones contorted audibly, but neither moved. Ashtaroth’s face began to elongate and fur flowed from her skin like water. Black silky fur, the color of the deepest night covered everything, but her eyes were a vivid blue, burning with the fire that drove her to that place. Pushed her to take the mission without fighting it, knowing she was too close to the killer then she realized.
He laughed something long and deep, husky in a way that warmed her to the core. Turning in her new six foot five frame she towered over the lying body in the bed. He watched her, an almost hunger in his eyes.
“Why Ash you’re the only one to recognize it in me, I’m glad it was you. Especially after this wonderful night we’ve shared.” He was hoping to put her off balance, worm his way into her thoughts and push that she had slept with, and enjoyed, the enemy. Then she saw his eyes, they were no longer multi colored, but a dark, nearly obsidian sapphire.
“Shut up Asmodeus! You killed all that I’ve held dear! You deserve what I’m going to give you!”
“I do believe I have not answered your other question. It was my father you see, he was the one who cursed me to this half life. I am a wolf you see, but am unable to become one. I was denied the pleasure of the actual animal and was stuck with only the half form which you are in now. I was raised as a hunter, to kill all those with tainted blood. That was till I learned of my sordid past.” As he lay the transformation took him. His pelt was not black as she thought it would be, but a golden color, like the rays of the morning sun.
“What now? Join with your animal brothers and sisters, or continue killing those that are more family to you then the humans that seek to destroy you?” Only an inch or so taller he stood and approached, ready to strike. She stood her ground, unable to back down from the great threat that he posed.
“The humans deceived me, tricked me into killing those that I had. I might as well get revenge upon them.” She clenched her furry fist and growled.
“You killed them... you killed Ronan. Then Blythe... they were only trying to protect the ones they loved, but you killed them anyway!” She lashed out, all the anger that had been building since the night they died put into a single blow. Her claws raked along his chest, forming lines of blood. “You bastard!”
“I stopped killing the wolves two years ago, on the day I turned 18 and transformed for the first time. Since then I have been killing any hunter that has remotely come into the area. You’ve got the wrong one, an assassin making a mistake, nearly unheard of. Let me join you, and together we shall seek vengeance upon all those that would do us and our loved ones harm.” He extended a furry hand and she took it. The smell of truth was overpowering, they would hunt together from that night on. The true hunter, however, was to be found by someone else. Their need for revenge for all the wrongs that they were done for being different turned into a legend to be told for generations, a tale of a single assassin’s mistake.