The Vampire's Court

Chapter 12- The Darkness Within

TW: Blood, death, body horror, mentions of SA.

Dimitri's fangs sank deep into the man's neck, the metallic taste of blood exploding in his mouth as he pinned him to the velvet-draped wall of his bedchamber. He closed his eyes, savoring the rush of power and satisfaction as the man's life force ebbed away.

The man thrashed, and screamed, and pushed Dimitri's face away. "Stop fighting me, you filthy swine!" Dimitri snarled, his voice low and menacing. "You'll only make it worse."

The man's struggles grew weaker, but his body continued thrashing against Dimitri's hold as he tried to break free. Dimitri's grip tightened, his anger boiling over as he remembered the scene he'd interrupted in the city streets.

"You were enjoying it, weren't you?" Dimitri said, his voice seething with revulsion. "Ripping her clothes, tearing her flesh...the sound of her screams still echoes in my mind. How does it feel, huh? How does it feel to be just as scared?"

The man's eyes bulged, his face contorted in agony, as Dimitri's fangs tore through his veins. The sound of flesh squelching, the gurgle of blood, and the stench of fear filled the air. Dimitri's chest heaved with exertion, his heart pounding in his chest. The man reached up and tried to force his thumb in Dimitri's eye.

"Damn you!" Dimitri cursed, his voice rising.

Dimitri once again sank his fangs into the man's neck. The man's body began to convulse, his limbs flailing wildly as Dimitri drank deeper. The sound of his own heartbeat grew fainter, until finally, he went still.

Dimitri withdrew his fangs, his chest heaving with exertion. He gazed upon the now lifeless body, rage filling him again. With a snarl, he began to kick and stomp the body repeatedly, bones cracking beneath his feet.

Withers arrived at the door, his voice hesitant. "Your Grace, Ms. Effie has arrived at Wellshire Manor..."

His words trailed off as he watched in shock as Dimitri lost his composure, his eyes blazing with fury. The sound of cracking bones and Dimitri's labored breathing filled the air, a gruesome symphony.

Withers took a step back, his eyes wide with alarm. "Your Grace, perhaps you should—"

But Dimitri didn't seem to hear him, lost in his rage, his darkness consuming him whole.

Withers' voice cracked with urgency as he grasped Dimitri's chest, holding him firm from behind. "Dimitri, my dear fellow, cease this instant!" He rarely used Dimitri's given name, reserving it for moments of utmost gravity.

Dimitri's eyes blazed with a feral intensity, his face twisted in a snarl, the growls coming from him truly animal. He kicked the lifeless body with abandon, his boots thudding against the floorboards. "Damn you, you wretched fuck!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the chamber walls. "I hope your soul rots in eternal torment!"

Withers tightened his grip, his fingers digging into Dimitri's chest. "Dimitri, STOP!" he thundered, his voice piercing the din of Dimitri's rage. "This will not ease your pain, nor quell your darkness!"

Dimitri's struggles grew more frenzied, his limbs flailing against Withers' hold. His eyes flashed with a maddening light, his pupils constricted to pinpricks. "Let me go, Withers!" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I'll show this bastard the true meaning of agony!"

Withers held firm, his face set in a resolute mask. "He's not going to be anymore dead than he is now, Dimitri," he declared, his voice unwavering. "You are better than this. You are a gentleman, a noble, a Duke, not some common brute driven by base instincts!"

Dimitri's curses faltered, his chest heaving with exertion. For an instant, a glimmer of recognition flickered in his eyes, and Withers seized upon it. "Dimitri, come back to me, lad," he urged, his voice softening. "Let the darkness recede. You are not its slave, not yet."