The First Kiss of Madness (The Rocky Horror Picture Show fan fiction)

Chapter Twelve: Onyx

Emilia

I lied to Emma.

I convinced her that I wasn’t phased by what she did, but I was. I wasn’t appalled by it; actually was intrigued by it. I felt drawn to her darkness, like it was calling out to me. My blood was pulsing with such fierceness and passion that I gave in. I was giving into dark pleasure. But first I wanted another taste of Frank.

I found him in the lab with my pursuer, Warren.

“Where’s Emma?” I demanded.

“Ah Emilia,” his voice was incredibly sexy, filled with a blood lust. “I’m glad you’re here. Emma’s busy.” 

“Good.” I walked over to Warren, who was strapped down to a table, and picked up a surgical knife lying next to various utensils used for dissection. Then I took notice to a small, side that had various viles on blood on it. There were three; two of which were mine and Emma’s blood, and the other was pure Transylvanian blood. 

“What the hell is Frank doing now?” I mumbled to myself.

“Emilia, darling come here. What should we do with our dear perpetrator here?”

“Kill him.” I smiled at him.

He raised his eyebrows, “kill him?”

“Well, is he really any use to us? No, not really. Get rid of him, kill him, I don’t care. It’s the most convenient, don’t you agree?” I walked over to Warren, and stood beside him with the surgical knife concealed in my right hand. He was scared speechless.

“Emilia, we could experiment with him. Imagine the possibilities! I made you and Emma true, pure-blooded Transylvanians, didn’t I? Well what could I do with him is endless. I could make him a slave, I could erase his mind, I can use his blood as an ingredient in my mission to create life, or I could clone him! And you want to dispose of him? Really, come now.” He was smirking, and shaking his head.

Clone him… what?

I looked with anger at Warren’s pale face and shrugged, “Well, if you won’t do it, then I will!” And I drove that knife into his heart as hard as I could manage. 

“Emilia, no!” Frank yelled while running towards me. But he was too late. 

The blood just pooled out onto the table and glistened. The metallic, crimson red blood was starting to coagulate. His blood was dying, and was intriguing. It covered my hand, and a good part of my arm. The blood was warm, but was cooling fast. The hairs on my arm stood up, as if I had goose bumps. It had no smell, the blood. It only just bled out of his chest, down his side, and onto the shiny, metal table. It was beginning to over flow, and dripped slowly and evenly onto the floor. The spatters seemed to crash to the floor in this eerie silence. I just watched it flow and drip, and it seemed as if it would never end.

Drip, drip, drip. Slowly. Evenly. 

Now we were true brain twins, and murderers.

“Was that a mercy killing?” He just looked blankly at me.

“The bastard needed to die.” I starred at the knife that I left in his bloody chest, and it seemed to gleam.

“And now I have yet another mess to clean up.” He just sighed.

“You certainly have a lot blood on your hands, Dr. Frank N Furter.” A smooth, yet cracky and sexy, higher-pitched, male voice said. 

We both spun around, and Frank was enraged. But I was attracted.

A beautiful man with dark hair, that hung to his shoulders and was an odd fashion with red streaks in it, and dark eyes stood starring at us. His eyes were red, but had what looked like dark makeup around his eyes. He was well built, and had funny facial markings that looked like stripes on his cheeks and chin. They looked like tattoos. His clothing was eccentric and bold! His lips were round, and plump, and also a bold red color! From what was being revealed by his clothing, he looked like he was covered in tattoos too. He had that punk rock look to him, yet something about him seemed sweet.