#annihilators

“Don’t, we’ve discussed this, many a times.” Biting his own bottom lip till it bled, restraining the quiver that the blond would seek out. Hargrove was drunk off Harrington, refused to be forthright of course. At times ending their evenings together in lovers quarrels, for as much as Billy was — enthralled by Steve, another thrill he enjoyed just as much was inflicting punishment. Be it not prepping Steve enough, or stopping when Harrington said so (which never happened), sating his brute, striking him out of “anger and masked hurt”.

Yet.. he kept coming for more, why? For the little game? Events that have yet to transpire and preparing? Have they grown tired of him? Did it mean more in his treacherous dare he say heart than he’d assumed, was he presumptuous?

This particular tryst—exceedingly the longest, not that Steve had any qualms, as stated, sought pleasure of what new found kinks others excavated, the pain was temporary, bruises fade, the way he processed it.

Everyone gets used or hurt, all pay a small price when it’s—required. He’ll reframe from admitting, when Billy was cruel, the more “pain” he painted onto the canvas that is Steve’s form, the rougher, more sadistic he was, the more intense the orgasm overtook.

“Say you’ll be mine — only mine, no more bullshit. Say it! SAY IT my little boy.” with his arms bound behind his back, Hargrove had him pinned against the door he was about to cross, grinding into Steve with sadistic precision. Found his body turning on him, his back arching for more. Unwilling to speak the words Billy demanded. Freeing him from his grasp.

“You enjoy seeing me like this then? DESPERATE—for you?”

“Of course not, you’re far from desperate Billy. You have someone waiting for you back home. Don’t act as if I’m stringing you along, be more grown ab..”

His last word abruptly cut off when the wind’s clobbered out of him, the impact has him keel over. Gasping for air, one hand planted on the wooden floor to steady himself, the other clutching his midsection. Doe eyes pinched shut, fighting the crimsons appearance, this night would end the worse, he should’ve just lied.

His legs cave, loses all control over his body after a blow lands to the back of his head, a horrid ringing in his ears, vision split. It all eclipses..

When he regains conscious, his wrist—bound together above his head, feet barely touching ground. Fighting to regain composure, grunts and groans echo when Billy reemerges, beautiful and heinous as ever.

“You’re awake, finally—I wasn’t sure..if, I hit you too hard? Knew you’d wake up my little boy, you can handle it.” Steve can make out Hargrove gripping a blade in one hand as he nears. Finds use in cutting off the fabric that kept him from seeing all of his Steve, at times purposely cutting too deep, nicked flesh. How Steve bled so beautifully.

The sounds Steve suppresses, yet still manage to escape, come out — although cracked was music to Billy’s soul, the urge to be one with Harrington.

“Before—I asked, now I claim. Not letting you go, not accepting a no. I’ll speak slowly so that your pretty little dumb self can understand! You are mine. Damned the being you went home and lie that you don’t go gumby for me, taking it any which way I choose.”

“Listen-to me. You’re making a HUGE..” his eyes cross momentarily, heat mixed with pain radiates across his face from the slap. With a finger pointed at him, once he opens his eyes.

“No speaking unless.. I SAY SO! You’ve been walking around like you—own me! I allowed your insolence long enough.”

Hargrove speaks as he hikes one of Harringtons legs up, granting a clear entry way, and the view was grand fucking-tastic.

“I—wouldn’t hurt you if I wasn’t sure you didn’t like it little boy, damn do you get off dontcha? Feel it… already, how much you like to be hurt. No one knows you better than I.”

His hand reached down, stroking his stiffening length. Steve loathed how he was enjoying it, how he knew his body, what it asked for. The salacious need to be—taken in horrid manners, how troublesome.

Billy doesn’t allow rest or sleep, using his body as he deems fit—for as long as he pleases. Harrington passes out, can’t—won’t help it when he cries out for more, goes as far as wrapping his legs around the blonds waist. Steve’s so far gone for this insatiable desire.

Hargrove will mutter how much he loves him, swear he’ll be better for Steve. Hypocrite, offers mock laughs, he’s fucked him dry, abbrasviely, thinks he tore him somewhere, a nerve perhaps? Yet—loves him?

“You have a twisted—fucked up state of declaring love there..Billy-Willy-Nilly.”

And see that’s where he should’ve just kept quiet, for now. Hargrove would commence the infliction of said love.

“Why can’t you ever just—be a good little bitch and SHUT..the FUCK ..up?!”

“I’m not bred that way, never have, never will. That’s why—I tend to..always be in..these situations where..”

“Your mouth bit off more than you can chew?”

“No—where I’m caught between undulating pleasure or.. keeping them at bay.”

Billy will tilt his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, then clicks.

“They? So—there’s more than 1 other and myself you’re…whoring yourself to Harrington?”

“ma chérie, who’s got the dumb pretty face now?! You actually thought yourself special..that—you were enough? Aww..that’s actually really endearing.”

In all fairness he was forewarned of Billy’s temper, all there in HUGE neon red lights for all to see—it’s when he hit a degree of psycho, Steve just never..pushed enough to actually—experience it, that was—until now. Wanted to poke the bear, fuck around and find out..

“You fucking little…who do you think you are mes..”

“For crying out loud! It’s YOU’RE William! Not you are! Don’t fit the bill of pretty yet thick as two short planks!”

Oh, he sees it—Billy goes quiet, stupid even. Processes, then.. it comes quick, if Steve wasn’t waiting for it..would’ve come as a surprise, mewling out “Beelzebub”, he shouldn’t show how enthralled he is with having Hargrove inflict damage, alas..it’s such a sight, purest of sensations, willingly surrenders to it. His vision becoming distorted with the crimson that flows down, the heat he feels is something he’s not felt in a very long while, say a milenia.

Billy made a beautiful scarlet mess all over Harrington’s glorious features, he drops to his knees—catching his breath while lapping at Steve’s feet when the room suddenly, yet slowly shifts, dimming, colder, quieter—all sound-cheer gone.

Hargrove seeing the condensation of his breath, Steve witnesses, knows their time is coming to a close. Glancing down at the blond, offering a beautiful bloodied smile that even the gods would worship.

“I guess—our time’s up, I liked you Billy. You’re unlike any other I’ve come across.”

Hargrove offering only that dumb look that spread across his face, how Steve would miss it. With a slight head tilt he’s about to speak when out of the darkness a male appeared looming behind Steve, he could make out they were not as tall, blond like him, medium build. Preppy outfit, not menacing at all. Though, there was something about.. As he finally stepped out of the shadows, as if he were the one to have changed the ambiance of the room, convincing himself there was no way.

“Your fun ends now. Doubt he’ll be pleased seeing his “little flower” in..such manner.” The male dragged a finger along Steve’s bloodied neck. Bringing it to his mouth, siphoning it clean, gets even closer. Tongue slithered out, taking a swipe across Steve’s cheek.

“What…the…fu…ck?!” Billy mumbled, falling on his ass, kicking away with his hands and feet. The young blond deflects his attention from Steve to take a look over at Billy, letting out a maniacal laugh. Hand flails mockingly.

“This—kept your…fancy?”

“Jacques, I recall a certain dull strawberry blonde that struck your fancy 20 years ago give or take. Your disappearance for that month was felt, temperance was not easier. Alas..I never judged did I?”

“Stéphane must we dig up the past? Guess we all have our—moments of human-frailty.” Once more his attention fully on Billy with such distaste and curiosity.

“What—the.. St..eve, you know him?”

“Billy this is my..consort, you may refer to him as..Jason.”

“Yes—charmed I’m sure.” Jason spoke snidely, Billy watched Steve free himself of his bindings with ease. As if—he could’ve done so at any time yet..chose not to.

“Cover up, I’m to escort you back.”

“The HELL you are!” Billy foolishly spat, knowing he was well over his head. Whatever the hell this..Jason was, he wasn’t, which meant—neither was Steve.

“Pardon? Were you speaking to me in such a manner? I must be..”

“Fuck you J-A-S-O-N! He’s mine! He’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Oh this one’s got fight, how I shall enjoy this.”

Steve walked over to Billy offering a hand, assisting him to a stand he brings his other hand to stroke his cheek.

“This is why I found you so…unlike others, a brute yes, animalistic behavior, of course. But such a posessive nature that I..find endearing, needed, I .. guess this is farewell.”

In a moment of desperation he grabs Steve by his arm, turns him over, revealing a knife that’s right at Harrington’s jugular. Steve gasped with delight, Jason remained unamused by the entire play.

“Bored—shall you or will I?”

“I’ll kill him! Rather that than you take him from me!”

Billy mumbled while the hand that held the knife trembled—digging into Steve’s flesh. Jason observes closely, slithering tongue swiping over his lips. Eyes beamed with excitement, as though he—wanted this to happen.

“Oh please do so, make it entertaining. For we haven’t seen him in such a rampageous manner.”

“Wha..you two are..fucking nuts! I’ll kill you bo..”

In a nano second, Billy’s back is slammed into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Taking the blond a few seconds to comprehend what just occurred. Something had a firm grip around his throat by their thenar space.

No man—could..Billy stared bewildered as he’s brought down, eye to..eye with pitch black smoking orbs. The other two men beam with euphoric glee, while Hargrove trembled with horror, never has any man brought him to this level of submission, realizing he’s no match for this is NO man.

This—is..pure evil; can—sense it, feel it, taste it. It’s seeping into his flesh down to his bones. For starters there’s no fucking way a man would be born with such..ethereal beauty. Jason and Steve were beautiful but in comparison, this male, was beauty incarnate

“Our Malin, meaningless words by an insignificant mortal.” Jason spoke nonchalantly, floating over to a still nude Steve, once beside him, he laps a strip of blood off his shoulder, the two lost in one another for the briefest of seconds before Billy released a gasp. Steve’s the first to come up from behind, placing a hand over this one’s shoulder.

Appearing to tower in height, the hold never loosening. He turns his head, neck craned abnormally to gaze upon Steve who holds it’s undivided focus.

“Amor Aeternus, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence.”

The soot haired one speaks a language Billy is unfamiliar with, yet his tone is soft, gentle, oozes unwavering charisma with demand.

“As much as I know my two can fend for themselves, I dare not assume you need my assistance. I will admit, you were missing from us my petite fleur. You know how I worry you wandering up here.”

Jason comes up to his other side, lips press against his clothed shoulder. Hargrove can only observe what transpires before him, two heads?! The other focuses on the younger blond, gazing at him in the same manner he—it—the other head was at Steve.

“Mi sol, you’re not yet at full strength.”

“I-am not feeble!” The blond pouted angrily, like a child throwing a tantrum, he scoffs—arms crossed. It has the older male let out a moan that quickly follows a small sigh, caving to his whim.

“Allow me to rephrase, if any harm should (have) come upon you by not keeping a proper eye on the, I wouldn’t …bare well.”

“I missed Steve, he’d been—gone and..you, get busy. I just—didn’t want to be lonely anymore.”

“You’re never alone—no matter where I am or Steve, you call..we appear. You matter, you’re a part of us as we are of you.”

“A kiss—our Malin.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need not ask for what’s yours to take mi..” Billy watches Jason throw himself into the male, mouth latching onto his. His tongue plunging the others, savoring him greedily, as if his touch were salvation. The two kiss as if they’re fucking, mouths salaciously delving the others in such a manner, if he wasn’t in his predicament he’d take hold of himself until violently finding release.

Meanwhile the other head that stares longingly at Steve seems more—disenchanted, it’s evident when Steve’s lip quivers. A small crimson tear leaks from his eye.

“I overindulged—with the mortal. I—didn’t..”

“I know you beyond what you may assume my petite fleur, you wanted this. Me, here. Although I find delight in your ploys of—entertainment we have a little one to look after.”

“Is that why you? Came? Only for your..our sol?”

“I came because this insufferable stain of a mortal threatened you before our..”

That’s when he’s one once more, the small blond held to his chest. Steve’s head leaned on his shoulder.

“It’s your turn William Hargrove for torment, not for the things you’ve done to others, I could give two fucks for these trivial humans, no..for having the sheer dumb luck of laying your sight upon my petite fleur, grabbing his attention, experiencing his touch, most of all you dare threatened to..keep him? If I heard correctly—and I quote “You are mine.”

Steve stood there raking a long black nail along his arm, cutting thin little lines around the fabric while mouthing “I’m sorry” towards Billy. Ever the cunt, Steve knew all along what he was doing, feigned… how could Billy have fallen so willingly.

“Edouard mon trésor, how about we allow Jason to play?!” Only for his two, Jason was all smiles, radiated joy. Offered puppy dog eyes once Edouard turned to his direction.

“What do you say notre soleil?”

The enthusiastic nod was the response, Billy’s body falls to the ground with a loud thud, landing on his knees, coughing, hacking; he devises a plan, his knife is right there. Just needs to be close enough. Fuck them, they’ve been all talk. Yeah—the shit he saw was..eerie, chalks it up to lack of oxygen. As soon as the younger one nears, he’ll take him out—first, if not only.

Jason steps away from the older males, the demeanor only for two fades. Now he’s stern, calculating, features lacking any sympathy or humanity. Releasing a small cackle, he speaks just as Billy makes his move. Quickly on his feet, knife in hand he lunges forward, knife plunging into the young blond’s chest.

“Excarnate..” intonation before clutching his chest. Hargrove pleased with himself when a small splatter of blood adorns his face, he goes from an attack stance to up when he feels the build, heat that radiates all over. A tingle that instantly transforms to searing agony, the blood curdling scream he lets out is music to their ears as his flesh is stripped from his body all at once.

Falling to his knees, taking his last few agonizing breaths the one named Edouard steps forward, inspects Jason then snaps his fingers. As if it never happened Billy no longer in agonizing pain, he’s—back to normal. Mind games? Some witchy shit? He looks to Steve for help, gets none.

“I have a better resolution, mi sol. How would you like an.. animale domestico? It’ll be yours to do as you please, train to obey, protect? A companion when we’re not around? Hmm..”

Jason’s hallow eyes turn the most glacial blue Hargrove has ever seen, looks-human once more. Glancing over to Steve for approval, receiving it by a single nod.

“You—think, I’m ready Malin?”

“I think you’re capable of anything you put your mind to mi sol.”

“You’ll have to clean up after his messes, feed him, walk him? You up for that responsibility?” Steve added, arms draped around Edouards waist from behind.

“He’ll be my responsibility, I’ll have him trained well. You’ll see! I’m ready! For my own.”

Out of the three, it was obvious Jason was—the youngest? Steve was, second in command or..the mother, while Edouard was clearly the head of this - whatever they were.

“FUCK YOU! I’m not some…animal!” Billy spat, standing once more. A sudden coldness succumbs him, hands reach up to feel something…foreign around his.

“You put a COL….” An immense jolt brings him to his knees once more, he’s screaming in agony. Nails tearing at the collar that’s—embedded into him. He cries out.

“Pleeeeeeeeaaaase…just, kill me.”

“And hurt mi sol? I’d rather meet the vrai death! You William Hargrove are now Jason’s cachorro. As such, you will do as told or suffer. That collar is embedded into your flesh, anytime you have a negative thought, a slight inclination of harming him or any of us, that collar will remind you—of your stature in our—congrega. I suggest you come to terms with this now being the rest of your eternity, until he deems to end it or..release you.”

“Who—are you?” All while Jason walked over, began stroking Billy’s blond locks tenderly, completely the opposite from moments ago. He begins tapping his thigh beckoning to follow, Hargrove pinched his eyes closed. Happy thoughts for now Billy, following his new “master”. Jason goes to sit, as if he understood him, he curls up next to him as much he could, knowing being near Jason meant -safety. How quickly he’s learned his new role.

“Me? Why I’m Edouard, Malin to my eternal Stéphane and our bien-aimé Jacques. To you, call me… my lord.”

In the century Hargrove lives as Jason’s pet, the youngling grew fond of Hargrove and his ways, Edouard will never see past what he foolishly thought he could “seize” from him. It’s Jason who grows a bond with his cachorro, their time together spent training, bonding that formed into loving him as much as he could, it goes a long way.

Molding Billy into a lethal killer, truthfully-he already had that instinct in him, now immortality suites the blond for these sorts of—hunts.

“meilleur ami, are you ready for your final test?”

Replying yes with a nod, at a stand still, awaiting Jason’s command.

“libérer” Billy grunts, his neck cracks until the collar that once contained him, bound to serve and listen, is-no more. This is it, he’s—free. His eyes dart to Edouard and Stéphane then back to Jason, who’s already staring intently, unwavering. Instantly running to the young one, lifting him off his feet, lowering him down to meet eye to eye.

“You freed me..”

“Yes-meilleur ami, you’ve earned your..freedom. I proved I am ready for my own-mate now. You will always be my greatest accomplishment. Go-unleash your wrath on all, just think of me when you do.”

Billy thinks Stockholm syndrome, for at some point, he began—growing odd emotions, could he have - feelings? The loath he held onto, plot to bide his time until this very moment, had long left. Replaced with—a deep loyalty and unrelenting love for the young blond.

Jason turns to Edouard and Stéphane, knows they would die for his love, he’s theirs and they’re his. The bond his malin and his mère have is what he’s always desired. Someone of his own, to go on murderous, rampage filled dates. Bring down their wrath on all that dare stand to them.

“What if—I want to stay, here. By your side, not as your meilleur ami?”

“What then?”

Billy cups his face, Jason has seen Billy at his worse, he beat it out of him. Enjoyed watching him inflict his sadistic nature and rewarded him in many other ways, forms of infliction. Jason accepted Billy’s damned soul or what was left of it.

“I want to-be le vôtre.” Jason teared up, a site Edouard despised. With Stéphane’s touch he seized, looking into his eternals orbs.

“He’s no longer just your sol, he’s found his-eternal. You knew this day would come, you did well as a malin.”

“What if he-hurts our, or perhaps a cunning ruse! I wouldn’t..”

“He’s of our blood, we are the strongest, oldest, wisest, deadliest of them all. With Billy by his side, we are fortifying our famille. I know you feel it, it’s palpable, his love for our sun. It’s—why..”

“You stayed as long as you did, testing.”

“You..knew?”

“My petite fleur, there is no hiding from me.”

“Malin, I choose Wilhelm as my eternal.”

“And I-Jacques as mine. I here forth vow to protect him, hunt, punish and slaughter all..in his name. The grandest mercy anyone has ever shown me was my demise as a human. Jacques saw what I could be, taught with patience, discipline, focus and hellfire.”

They embrace, made official. The two spend centuries copulating their union, Billy true to his word obliterates anything that dares speak ill or touch his Jacques, his blue eyed heathen and their ménage. They bring death to many weaker clans, all fall to their knees in order.

Wilhelm becomes Edouard’s most ruthless hand, solidifying their blood when they hunt down a vampyre lord that dared apprehended, and drink from Jaques. Taken while Billy was in battle, watched as this-leech pierced his beautiful skin, drank from his essence, their sacred bloodline! Then tossed his Jase aside as if he meant-nothing! This..would not stand.

Edouard and Billy set forth, unleashing their fury, stalking, attacking and bringing the leech before its followers.

“Mercy is for the weak! Treachery will not go without retribution.” Edouard spoke, daring them to attack, handing the honor over to Billy.

The blond rips into its throat, blood gushing, splattering when he lifts the body up, tearing it in two. Allowing it to fall to the ground like the nothing it was. Before any of the followers could get to the remains, maybe salvage their lord, Eddie sets it a blaze with thought. FUOCO

It’s as Edouard spoke, mercy is weak. Offering no sympathy nor surrender when he obliterates the entire linage.

“I—failed him, I deserve no mercy.” Billy kneeled before Edouard, who instantly lifted him off his feet.

“You saved our sol, any other attack like the one he-sustained should’ve brought forth his..demise, he fought, held on because of you.”

Eddie clasped Billy by his cheek, the alabaster hand held with a fragile touch. His malin offers gratitude, Billy returns the gesture with a kiss.

“I’d die for him—for you, for Stéphane. You’re my famille.”

“My sun couldn’t have chosen a better eternal than thy.”

“My malin…” Wilhelm whimpered out with crimson tears. Edouard finally accepted him, wiping away his blood tears.

“My colère.”