#florenceposting

With shaky hands, Amoré began reciting the ritual chant. Red sat on his knees perfectly still. His eyes were closed and he almost looked at peace aside from how tightly he balled his fists. It was time to draw the sigil. Amoré grabbed his small dagger from his pocket and pricked two of his fingers. Upon Red’s forehead, Amoré began to draw a mess of curling lines that formed the face of a bat. “N-now. It’s time for your first drop of blood in over fifty years,” Amoré said and put his hand near Red’s mouth. The younger shook his head. “I can’t go through with it anymore!” He cried. Hid brother exhaled with relief. “Thank the gods! You have a family Junior, I can’t take that from you!”

“Y-you’re not mad? You’re okay that we cam this far and I backed out?” Red asked. Amoré nodded. “I wouldn’t force you to do anything like this even if I were mad, Junior! Let’s wipe this off before we attract beasts.” Red sighed and licked a drop of blood that trickled down his face and onto his lips. He felt a sudden warmth, and Amoré noticed his brother’s eyes had gone from violet to a deep shade of red.

Amoré stared at Red and Red stared back, both equally confused at what the other was gawking at. “W-why are you staring at me like that?” Red asked as Amoré helped him back to his feet. Amoré kept wordlessly staring, slowly pointing to the drop of blood that fell into Red’s mouth. “W-we didn’t. We didn’t stop the ritual, Junior.” Red licked the streak of blood from his lips again, then froze. His eyes grew wide as he looked down at his hands to see his nails growing long then back at Amoré. “Oh,” was the last thing he whispered before the pain set in. The color came back to his hair, as it became its bright red again. He started laughing. “It’s working!” He chirped. His mistwalker tattoos returned to his arms and the white marks of the Moon returned to his face. “Amoré I’m—“he held his chest and fell against a tree. His arms and legs contorted inward and back out with a sickening crack.. His skin stretched as his muscle mass began to return. He buckled over into the ground and screamed out in agony, scratching at his mouth as his fangs broke through his gums, blood dripping down his face.

Amore watched in …mild discomfort, as the man violently transformed. “Are you done yet?” He called out. Red’s voice deepened and became growls in his throat as his vocal chords began to warp. “I-Is this an inconvenience for you?” he strained out. Amore rolls his eyes. “I didn’t want to go through this! So yes, I’m inconvenienced. How can we speed this up?”

“Get me blood. I need blood before I turn into the thing!” he shouted. Amore raised an eyebrow. “What, you’re going to get worse?! Are you telling me this isn’t the thing?” Red growled at him, and Amore backed up. “I’ll grab you a squirrel or something,” Amore said hurriedly. “J-just don’t get any more… ugly.” He turned away and fell to the ground as Red tackled him. “Why can’t I drink from you, you’re right here!”

“If you fucking bite me I’ll kill you!” Amore snapped and kicked the man off. Red hit the ground and rolled back onto his hands and feet. He stood up and smiled. “You’ll give me a bite or I’ll tell Mom what you did to me. How you turned her baby boy back into a monster. Imagine Papa’s disgust!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Amoré screamed. Red tackled him again. “Give me a sip, goddamn you!” He wrestled Amore to the ground and pulled his arm to his mouth. Amoré pulled it back and headbutted him in the chin. “It’s my blood, Junior!”

“Why the hell are you so strong?” Red growled. Amoré ripped into his arm and shoved it in Red’s mouth. The man bit down and lapped at the blood until Amore felt dizzy. He knocked the other off and held his wound.

Red wiped his mouth, the craze leaving his eyes. “I… I’m better now,” he huffed. He slapped Amore’s back. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

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Red stared at the door to his home and looked back at Amoré expectantly. Amoré looked up from his wound and stuck out his tongue. “Can I heal up from the this bite first?” He whined. Red shook his head. “It’s not that… H-how do I do it?” He asked. Amoré tilted his head at him, squinting. “Do what? Use a door?”

“Go inside!” He snapped. “Don’t know if you were paying attention but when I left an hour ago, I was BARELY 5 FT TALL!” Amoré rolled his eyes. “By the gods,You’re so dramatic! Just duck when you go in. Flounder or whatever his name is probably isn’t even awake.”

“Florence,” Red spat back. He took a deep breath and opened the door, pulling it right off the hinge. He silently screamed and looked at his brother who was desperately trying to keep from laughing. Red slammed the door into Amoré who fell over onto the dirt path, still struggling to contain his cackle. Red looked around, perhaps Florence was sleep. He crept into the house, careful to avoid anything that would make sound. He walked past the dining table and knocked over the salt. He froze, hearing Florence stir in his sleep. When the man didn’t appear from the doorway, he sighed and continued to the corner of the kitchen. He lifted the floorboard and found his it. It was a large black trunk with the Inferi insignia carved into it and painted red. He saw his old locked chest and felt something within him catch fire.

He reached down and grabbed it, a smile growing wider and wider on his face. He pricked his finger on his canine and let blood drip inti the sig, causing the chains to fall off. Slowly, he took the chest and rested it on the dining table. He flipped the latch and opened it up to see his scarf and assassin’s uniform still neatly tucked folded. He ran his fingers over the scarf, his fingers stinging from its magic.

“Red…?” He heard a voice call from behind him. He whipped his head around to see Florence clutching his ax in one hand and holding a lantern in the other. Red felt every ounce of excitement he once had be ripped from his body as he saw the fear in his husband’s bright blue eyes. They were glowing, even if he did clean up his appearance, nothing could get past his Hunter’s Instincts. “R… Red, what happened to you?” He whispered and hung the lantern on the coat rack.

He slowly approached the elf, who backed away with every step he took until Red found himself backed into a wall. Florence wouldn’t say the emotion he felt upon seeing the man was fear, but he would prefer to say that then what he was truly feeling. The man that bore his husband’s face was about two feet taller with a mop of long, shaggy red hair. His fearful eyes were bright red, like the day they met. Florence tried to hide his delight as he gently touched the man’s face, stretching his mouth to see his fangs. He moved his hand down to Red’s chest, unable to hide his smile, then grabbed his arms. Red’s face became bright purple, and he gently pushed him away. “Flo, it’s awfully late don’t you think? Go back to bed,” he said sternly. The man broke from his stupor. “I… hold on, wait a minute!” He wiped the drool from his mouth and put the ax to Red’s neck. “What do you think you’re doing?!”