His hunger was growing like a little ball, the more blood spilled the sicker and sicker he felt like a fever taking over the child's body as he began to shake and tremble. No. no. no. no. Please no. Kill the voice whispers to him from deep in the abyss. Let go, child. Take them in your mouth as they took you and swallow
consume the worms at your feet F E E D His mouth had become a water fountain, drooling over his fine leather clothes. Over the buckles and loops of steal weaved between black and crimson strips of tanned hide. Dyed and cured, nothing but the best for the Prince. Gavin had given him these fine things to wear not more than a year back, the passage of time something that always slipped away from him. His shirt had been burned, and he had wished the memories of how it earned it's stains, would have burned as well. The reek of burning...blood ..so much blood... and maybe because of that, the over powering odder of food that he caught it. Like moss... and dirt. His nose twitched through the madness engulfing his mind. Somewhere...in the distance he could hear a creek.... the sound of water gently falling over stone again and again. The world was spinning, swirling around him red and pinks and- orange.
hmm he nuzzled the ground absentmindly, leaves....he could smell them, their rot and the new life it would bring... he wanted to fall deep into it, let the woods take in home. He had understood there. Killing a baby bird was not cruel when you were hardly old enough to walk. But slowly playing with it for years... upon years till the light went out and the body was cold. That was cruelty, he learned it from them. The men. The storm that froze his bones did not hate him, the hail upon his skin held no malice. But man did. The pain he was given from man was incomparable.
But now he could feel the ferns against his cheek, the light wind pushing through the tops of the trees shaking them just enough for a cascade of shadows to dance before his closed eyelids. The touch was so gentle, he craved it - craved tenderness to be carved into himself. The stigma hummed a broken sound in his throat as he leaned more into the hand, his nose leading him as he chased the faint scent still. It had been here, so strong and clear. Calling him, pulling him. Coming back for him, his loving forest. The cold and cruel wildness as tender as any touch for the boy. He whined softly a sad little sound as he nudged his nose again to the hand, dont go, dont leave me. almost hoping he could gently headbutt it into producing more-
.... Hand? The stigma blinked open dazed and glossy eyes.
At the boy's response, at long last, Nick allowed the air in his lungs to loosen and the sigh to come out, his eyes briefly closing. He felt so weak, but he couldn't just pass out with the clueless thing all lost and confused. The older man rolling on his side so he could at least look up at him better, the bloodied thumb gently brushing against that sunken cheek, smearing it on his face.
They had the same glassy, dead eyes. All the life that was concentrated in Lucifer's pupils faded and dulled out as if the eyes were worn from over-use. Nick was just that, after all. A shell of his former self, nothing more but a body for his partner to wear like a coat as he headed out into the world. He had a soul, somewhere. That much he was aware of. Or else he wouldn't be capable of ditching this old piece of flesh behind and retreat to where he had the ability to hold Satan in his arms.
But it didn't feel like it. When Lucifer was gone he was a puppet with all but one of its strings cut. Dragging itself by that one thread hoping that its master would find and fix it, tie new strings and make it dance again with his delicate touch. Nick exhaled again, opening his eyes to look at the boy, seeing the obvious signs of hunger on him.
"You like blood?" He asked, sliding the pillow of his palm towards the boy's lips. Nick still had no idea what he was exactly, and where he had landed. But if this kid was a vampire their life was about to get much easier.
His lips curled instinctively as a growl built up inside, dying off jus as quick as it had come. Only to be followed by a anxious lip of his own lips golden mist illuminating the soft skin, offered up like a lamb on the alter. Finally he looked up to the stranger, brows knit tight in a knot of panic. He didnt know what was happening, where he was- why it felt so peaceful when the other had taken him in his arms briefly. He had rocked in and out of consciousness, bobbing like a boat as his eyes fluttered open and closed.
he was stolen. By a enemy of Gastark? A stigma? The thought while brief was enough to bring a second snarl, showing the tips of surprisingly clean white teeth. He smelled human, looked human- sounded human. "hwat do youh whant me?" the words were shaky like a toddler babbling out sounds in between random syllables as he tried to make speech. He holds very still for the other man, head bent low not moved from where it had been. His nose only twitching once or twice as he swallowed down the pooling drool. Hungry. "hwat whant?"
