Of Gods and Monsters

Puppet On A String

"The truth is always an abyss. One must — as in a swimming pool — dare to dive from the quivering springboard of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order to later rise again —laughing and fighting for breath — to the now doubly illuminated surface of things."

- Franz Kafka

Despite the strange changes that Elek's body had gone through thus far, he had somehow (begrudgingly) managed to keep his anxious personality. As they descended the stairs, he felt himself begin to perspire and his body begin to quake. He knew what was expected of him, the part that Ambrus wanted and needed him to play, but he wasn't sure he could give him what he wanted. Elek had always lacked confidence, even in his mortality, and if anything his vampiric form just exacerbated it.

The long staircase was lit here and there by candlelit sconces, giving the entire thing an eerie sort of vibe. His newfound abilities were giving him more perception, or so he presumed. He almost immediately got the strong impression that the atmosphere had gotten to their company, smelling a tinge of fear lace the air. If any of them were actually fearful, Elek couldn't tell. Outwardly, they remained chatty and giggling, completely taken by Ambrus. Elek wondered if perhaps vampire's had a sort of spell about them, magic. A magic that caused mortals to abandon their instincts, perhaps somehow numb their fear, maybe even make them seem irresistible. In any event, they carried on without so much as a hiccup.

Emilia hung closely by Elek, without touching him, which he again was grateful for. If she had to die, he at least wanted her ignorant of it until the bitter end. Touching him now would cause her suspicions to rise. Glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, he marveled at the way the light danced off her features. They were small where they needed to be, and bigger in the same respect. Her eyes, doe-like and large, her eyelashes equally as long. Her nose, small, like a button. Her mouth, drawn and plump, and red. Red.

He glanced at her neck noticing the way his new eyes could pick up on every movement of her pulse. He could see it bulge with the intake of blood, pumping it in vast quantities, to her delicate heart. He could almost see the organ beneath her clothes and chest, rasping lightly like a drum. Leaning a bit closer and breathing in, he could smell the coopery tinge of her, which sent his sense into overdrive.

His fangs pricked at his bottom lip painfully in response then, pulling him back to his senses. He gulped, retreating from the slight inch he'd pressed forward, which had gone completely unnoticed by his prey. Just then Ambrus's eye met his, very briefly, but gave a knowing smile and then carried on. Elek blanched, horrified. Horrified at the discovery of his own blatant lust.

Finally, they reached the lower portion of Ambrus's home. It wasn't quite the "dungeon" Elek had been imagining when Ambrus had brought him down there originally. Back when he was merely straddling the living and undead, he thought bitterly. The room was nicely lit, giving off a faint warm glow. The floor was marble like above, with a grand fur rug spreading across it. There were chairs and couches, still the same red, and paintings hanging the wallpaper. (All of which, seemed to feature Ambrus himself, and what Elek presumed to be his friends.) The ladies took their seats respectively, looking at Elek now in expectation.

Elek shifted uncomfortably and felt someone nudge him. To his left, Ambrus held out a violin case, gesturing for Elek to take what was inside. Giving what Elek felt was an audibly gulp, he reached inside the case, retrieving the item in question.

"I believe we promised our friends here a show."

Ambrus drawled, taking his place among their guests with leisure. Elek merely glanced at it for a moment, momentarily forgetting how to play in his anxiety. However, after a moments pause, he put the instrument to his chin and drew the bow.

Playing an instrument was truly the highest form of escape Elek had ever managed to achieve. Nothing had quite come close. He'd tried drawing (never been too good at it) and writing, but it felt restrictive (and too sedentary, for his liking). He could never quite free himself in either of those activities. During his days at his parents' manor, young and under considerable pressure, playing violin had been his own private expression. Free from the chains of nearly everyone, he could create or reproduce any piece of music he desired. As long as he was practicing in some form, he was let be.

However, in this exact moment, he felt the complete opposite. Like he was a puppet, and Ambrus pulling the strings. The music he composed, unwittingly, produced the emotion he hadn't meant to convey. Unapologetically, the music was sorrowful and somewhat strained. Elek closed his eyes then, engrossed by the music, which flooded all of his overly attentive senses. He lost himself, despite the circumstance, and became blind and deaf to everything around him.

Perhaps Ambrus knew this about Elek. It hadn't escaped him that Ambrus definitely had been watching him and keeping tabs on him for some time before their fateful encounter. But, perhaps it was simply a mistaken sense of affection on Elek's part. Regardless, the result was the same. When Elek finally finished his piece, he became aware of the smell of blood, and the sound of several screams.

His eyes burst open, dropping the violin with an awkward clang on the ground. The two women who had come with Emilia were draped across the couch, each missing a substantial amount of their necks, dripping buckets of blood onto the previously white fur rug. Ambrus held Emilia who was desperately trying to get away from his iron grip, screaming her head off, blood dripping from Ambrus's chin.

"Ah, finally came out of your stupor have we? Come, it's time to feed."

Emilia ceased screaming and began to hyperventilate, her small chest heaving in an inhuman way, clawing at Ambrus's hands for release. For some reason, Elek didn't feel faint or sick. Instead, he felt a shameful feeling of lust begin to wash over him again. It made his throat tighten and his fangs itch behind his closed mouth.

"What're you waiting for Elek, kill her."

Ambrus pestered, a look of annoyance crossing his face. Elek stood, stunned and fighting himself on what to do next. He looked rapidly between the girl and Ambrus, clenching and unclenching his fists. Ambrus gave him a cross look, then threw the girl at Elek.

"For gods sake."

Elek caught her, ignoring Ambrus's words, holding her in his own iron grip. He looked at her pleading face, now quite white from fear. He looked further, at the juncture between her head and her shoulders, with lust driven eyes. His brain was yelling at him to taste her, the smell of the others blood sending waves of pleasure and haziness to his head.

"Kill her!"

Ambrus's voice penetrated the haze, making Elek look Emilia in the eye. He couldn't resist what he was anymore.

"I'm so sorry."

He choked, before his nature got the best of him, and he tore into her delicate throat.