Control

by James D. Horton

  As I enter the open space of the garden the moon appears from behind some clouds, shining down so I look up and my thoughts turn to Wolf. It is getting easier to push him out of my mind probably because I am more consumed by the pain I am constantly in. Thinking of him makes an ache bloom in my stomach. I had him once, I want him still, at least with Wolf I never feel like there’s a hidden agenda, his simple cave man ways hold an appeal that pulls at me.

  I sigh and push the thoughts away. It hits me how weak I feel, walking is a definite effort, I have to push myself to move. Every joint aches deep inside in a way I’ve never experienced. I feel lethargic, I have a complete lack of energy and every motion takes a concentrated effort of will. At first I felt so powerful, every motion was magical. I could move with speed that was blinding to mortal eyes and I had a grace that any dancer would envy. Now I plod and my body feels heavy, like a massive weight holds me here in the now and all I really want is to let it go and move on to whatever is next.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say it out loud to make it real, not expecting to be heard.

  “What doesn’t matter young Lynx?” Griogar’s voice drifts across the garden insinuating itself into my senses.

  I feel the urge to be startled but it really would just take too much effort to be bothered with doing it. Moving through the bushes I find him standing where he had been the night before. On the stone table in front of him is a large form covered over by a white cloth. Griogar is smiling that damnable smile of his which must be sewn in place. “Oh my, you look like hell.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I snap, anger coming easily. Anger is the beast, it likes that, it leaps at anger almost feeling alive again.

  “It’s not a compliment but a testament to how far we must be willing to go. I have taken on your education; you have no idea the harm it would do my reputation if I were to fail in such a task. Why, no one would be willing to attend my parties I’m sure!”

  I just stare at him. I attended one of his ‘parties’ when I was still human with Wolf. It had consisted of dozens of humans copulating in various pairings while vampires went around feeding on them at their whim. It was like an orgy combined with Dante’s Inferno. Definitely not my idea of a good time, even remembering it now turns my stomach.

  “Can we just get this going?” I challenge.

  “Well, first and foremost in learning to control is learning to feed. No food, no energy. No energy, no control. Simple, yes?” He smiles and flourishes his arms as he speaks.

  I nod along, encouraging him to keep talking and maybe eventually get to a point.

  “So, food chain, you understand this?”

  “Yeah, got it,” I say only because my nod doesn’t seem to satisfy him. I sense his disappointment growing, he is a showman and I’m not an active audience appreciating his efforts.

  “Well, let us carry on then. Simple concepts laid out, you need stronger sustenance. A body builder cannot survive on a meager diet, a stronger vampire cannot survive on lower life forms. So you need to at least supplement your regular diet with this!”

  He pulls the cloth back with a flourish. I take a step back as I see that Aiver lies there. He trembles all trussed up and gagged like a turkey on thanksgiving.

  “Son of a bitch,” I whisper.

  Griogar smiles at my reaction. “Oh my my, yes, yes indeed!” His excitement shows. “I thought this one might be of particular satisfaction to you.”

  I feel the beast inside coming to life, it is lethargic but more active than it has been. It wants to do this, it wants to dominate Aiver, to feed on him and show its power over him.

  “Now I know, you are thinking I have to feed on this creature?” Griogar interrupts my thoughts and I look up at him, licking my lips involuntarily. He chuckles, “Not just feed though, this is about control. Your darkness is a monster, it wants to show its power, it wants to dominate. You have to feed that aspect of it as well you see, my dear. Not just sustenance, dominance.”

  I cock my head at Griogar but oddly his words make sense. I understand the nature of the beast in each of us better than most I think. My unique ability gives me a degree of insight that others are not going to have. It reacts in two ways, fight or flight. If it feels stronger it fights, if it feels weaker it flees. It wants to express dominance; it wants to be the strongest. Finally I feel like I’m getting close to a true answer.

  “So,” Griogar continues. “We are going to ... allow you to express your ability to dominate.”

  His eyes are half lidded as he says this, his voice sultry with a silken quality and I feel my beast leap up at the idea. I want this; I want to put this man in his place. I want to take my revenge against him, the revenge that this stupid Society has blocked me from taking. Aiver was behind the gang that tried to rape me which ultimately led to my death. He was using me to get to Wolf, but he was a smart vampire, not doing the dirty work himself. He hired another vampire called Stones. Stones I had killed, now, at long last, Aiver is in my grasp. Warmth floods through me and oddly I feel aroused. Yes, this is exactly what I need. I have done nothing yet and already the pain is receding, the ache easing at the mere promise of relief.

  Griogar grabs up Aiver, tossing him easily over his shoulder. Aiver is not a big man, but neither is Griogar, it is an impressive display of strength if you don’t know the nature of a vampire and the strength that comes along with our condition. I follow behind Griogar as he carries Aiver into the house. A servant meets him at the door and Griogar hands Aiver to him whispering something. The servant nods before disappearing with Aiver.

  “Now, we must prepare you,” he turns towards me and smiles. “You are going to learn to contain the darkness. The way you do this is to let it out sometimes, but in controlled circumstances. You let it dominate and then you can dominate it. Simple.”

  I nod feeling truth in his words. “Sure,” I say. “What now though?”

  “You need to be properly attired it’s part of the show, the attraction. This,” he waves his hands up and down me, “homeless house elf attire just won’t do. No inspiration there.”

  I look down at my outfit, it is actually better than what I used to wear, the jeans are designer now so is the hoodie. Athene prefers me to dress as a debutante but yielded to me having some comfortable clothes only if I let her acquire the absolute best that money can buy. Griogar grabs my hand and pulls me along, I allow him to lead as it is easier than resisting and there is no point because after all I want this, I need this, whatever this is.

  He leads the way through his house winding through the mansion until we arrive in a room that is apparently a massive closet. There are innumerable outfits hanging, shelves displaying boots and shoes, drawers, lights, mirrors, the entire arrangement is almost the size of my room at Athene’s. My eyes widen as I look at the assemblage of leather and shiny outfits. I recognize where Katherine must have gotten what she was dressed in when I saw her here.

  “Now,” he eyes me up and down. “A lot of this is not going to fit you well, it is largely designed for a build more,” he pauses his eyes resting on my chest. “Busty,” he says at last. “I will, assuming this goes well, acquire things better fitted to your unique build.”

  He smiles broadly at me but I just frown. Do I want to be back here that often?

  “This area here,” he indicates a section of the wardrobe, “should do very nicely.” He turns as he walks out, “I will send someone to help you dress.”

  I start thumbing through the hanging outfits; I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much leather in all my life. I pull out a piece and inspect it. Leather like most everything seems to be, it is based around a corset with lots of laces to pull it tight but it seems designed to cup under the chest leaving it exposed. I shake my head.

  “What am I doing?” I ask the empty room. I feel empty, lost without a rudder. The beast rumbles pushing back; it is hard to distinguish its thoughts from my own. I want revenge, but revenge in Wolf’s world is to walk up and kill a man
clean. You don’t play with prey; you kill it and then move on.

  I shake my head and look at yet another outfit, this one red leather, at least it seems designed to cover my tits. I can’t figure wanting to kill a man with my ta-ta’s dancing in the wind.

  Kill the prey, don’t play with the prey. “Oh Wolf,” it sounds breathy as I say it, the sane part of me on top for the moment. I ache with my desire for him and the loneliness I feel because of him. I pull out another outfit and this one I imagine wearing for his pleasure and the thought causes desire to flood me. The beast latches on to that moment of weakness. A tingle runs down my spine and I feel my nipples hardening, I become wet at the memory of him entering me, pressing me against the rough wall of the alley. I ride along with that memory, feeling those sensations again, that sense of being filled but more than that of being needed and wanted as much as I needed and wanted him.

  The memory clears and I’m dressed in black leather. I look around and up and down myself, unsure when this happened. I play the last few minutes over in my mind and there, I can see it happening. There are two memories there, me remembering my time with Wolf and the beast running the body while I’m distracted. A cold chill causes me to shiver. How far can this go? I have to get this under control!

  The outfit does look nice on me, it has a tight corset but the strings are still undone, the leather pants do a decent job of hugging my hips and accenting my legs. I’m wearing leather boots that come mid-calf and black cuffs on my wrists, all of it fits well enough. I hear a door open and turn to see a young girl walk in; I hear her heart beating which lets me know she is a mortal. She has mousy brown hair that hides her face as she walks up to me. She is wearing a simple white dress, plain loafer style shoes and she keeps her eyes on the ground not looking directly at me.

  “May I be of service?” her voice is so soft I’m sure I would not have heard it if I did not have enhanced hearing.

  She starts tightening the corset without being asked so I turn and allow her to work it over. Luckily, I no longer need to breathe as she pulls it tighter. My small chest becomes more prounounced as she does so, pushing up and out, my waist becoming a better hourglass until she is done tugging and pulling up and down the outfit.

  “Is there anything else, Mistress?” she asks as I look the results over in a mirror.

  That sane part of me is screaming again but really this is the answer, the distance between the pain and myself makes it obvious that this is the way to handle things. It is, after all, only right. I am the superior predator. Aiver tried to turn me into prey, so I will show him what happens when the predator becomes the prey. A wolfish grin smiles back at me from the mirror, I barely recognize myself but I embrace it.

  “That will be all,” I say with an air of absolute authority.

  She walks over to one of the mirrors, her hand slides down the side of it and I hear a click. The mirror swings open revealing a stone room behind it. I walk to the door and enter the room, embracing the new me.

  GRIOGAR’S WAY PART FOUR

  Lily

  THE ROOM I’M WALKING INTO IS OBVIOUSLY a dungeon. It has stone walls that are painted dark gray with various devices, tables, and contraptions I’ve never seen before arranged around the space. The center of the room is dominated by a large wooden X standing upright, constructed of massive timbers which are stained a dark color. Chains are attached to the top and bottom of the X and in these chains, stripped of his shirt is Aiver.

  He still shakes and quivers but says nothing, his eyes are shiny and dart around the room widening when he sees me walk in. His lower lip trembles and I feel elated at what I am about to do. Griogar enters the room from another entrance and smiles at me, nodding appreciatively at my new attire.

  “Mmmm,” he leers, “are you not a sight for sore eyes!” Griogar slowly looks me over, lingering too long on the exposed parts of my flesh. I feel my excitement drain away almost immediately to be replaced by disgust. I really can’t stand Griogar; he is slimy like a used car salesman who you know is selling you a lemon. Unfortunately I have no choice but to work with him and he is helping.

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  Keep it short, don’t interact with him, learn from him, and don’t engage with him more than I have to. I put most of my attention back on Aiver as the demon inside sends out waves of desire which helps me mentally escape from Griogar’s presence. Aiver, for his part, has his attention fully on me, though oddly he still doesn’t make a sound. A slow smile forms on my face, I can’t tell in this moment how much of my need for revenge is mine and how much is the monster. I don’t care. When I get within a few feet of him I study the table that is set up within easy reach, the top of it is covered with items I’ve only seen in bad porn magazines. Whips, chains, metal objects, leather objects, paddles, and more things that I have no idea what they are or how they are intended to be used. My eyes lock onto a whip, the thing has a lot of leather strands on it and I like the look of it. I feel the beast humming as my attention focuses on this one item. I pick it up feeling its weight, the handle is wrapped in soft leather and it’s heavier than I would have guessed, the leather strips each end in a metal bur about quarter of an inch across with spikes sticking off of it in every which direction. My smile widens and I look over at Aiver.

  “I think this looks nice, don’t you?” I gloat though in truth I’m not really in charge now, the evilness has slid in and I don’t even feel it or fully realize it. I’m moving again, I’m doing things but it’s not me, it’s the monster; I’m just along for the ride now. My hand flicks the whip, coming within inches of Aiver but not connecting, not yet.

  “Ah the flogger, wise choice.” Griogar says from the side.

  Huh, so it’s not a whip.

  I swing softly at first, strangely enough. The beast is running the show and I would have expected it to tear through Aiver but it seems like it’s able to take its time and enjoy its kill. I look at it detached, opening my mind to try and fully understand this creature inside me. In others I see the creature so clearly as a monster that I can reach out and control. I’ve not had such an easy time with the creature in my own skin, riding right here with me. I watch it working and see in it the culmination of a life lived on the edge of society, the edge of survival, the edge of being right or wrong. I survived; it sure doesn’t mean I’m proud of what I’ve done or how I survived. I did what had to be done. Too often I let others take what they wanted from me.

  The flogger connects with a satisfying thud as the beast begins increasing the tempo and the burs tear at Aiver’s flesh. Blood sprays softly with each strike but still he doesn’t cry out. I continue my introspection, letting the devil have its fill. Wolf has changed things, Wolf told me I could be a predator, that I don’t have to be prey and that is what I am becoming isn’t it? Yet here I am being prey, prey to the darkness inside me. Struggling moment to moment, not having true control but hanging on by the tips of my fingers. What kind of life is this? Is it really any better than what I had before?

  This wildness, what is it really? I see in it all my pent up hate, my frustration, my rage, and my regrets. The things I have done, the things I know I could do, all are there pushing me to let go of reason, of what makes me human. That really seems to be the key, let go of the human, go back to primal instincts. Maybe that is what Wolf sees in it, primal base need. Hunt, kill, breed. Everything else is beyond concern. Hunt, kill, breed, and survive is all that matters. Maybe I am no better than this, what really makes me human anyway?

  Aiver still doesn’t cry out, though tears are running down his face. I find myself annoyed that he won’t scream, I want his screams; or the darkness does, are we different anymore? Is it part of me or is it separate from me?

  “Why won’t he scream!” I wail.

  Griogar chuckles. “Oh my, that is delicious! I’ve put a spell on him but if you want his screams then please, allow me,” he flourishes with his arms; man could be a damn Shakespearian actor with his love of
exaggerated gestures and showmanship.

  Once he waves his hands the room fills with Aiver’s screams. I feel an odd mix of revulsion and satisfaction. I step back and assess what I have so far as Aiver continues to scream. He is a bloody mess; shreds of his flesh hang off of him in tatters like a torn shirt. The most amazing part is that the wounds from which those shreds hang are healing; new skin is literally growing before my eyes. I look him in the eyes and he meets my gaze, I can see the defiance in him, he may be in pain but none of this is hitting home to him. Pain is temporary, especially to a vampire. My revulsion fades away in the face of his resistance.

  “I don’t think this is working,” I say looking to Griogar. “It seems to me that Aiver here needs to learn to fear me, needs to learn that I am the bigger predator in this room.”

  “Well, how would you go about that?” he licks his lips. Griogar is covered in sprays of blood and seems to absolutely love what he is creating.

  “Do you fear me Aiver?” I return my attention to Aiver and he looks to the ground.

  “Yes,” his voice is soft but I feel the lie.

  “Liar, liar,” I taunt. I look over the tools on the table, picking up various instruments of torture. “I don’t think beating is the answer with him. Pain is temporary, you know that don’t you Aiver?”

  Aiver looks up again, his eyes flash with resistance, and an internal fire in him fills me with an urge to break him. The beast growls and I let it out in my voice. I look at the tools and then an idea starts to shape in my mind. I look at Griogar and smile.

  “How much can a vampire heal?” I ask him innocently enough.

  “Varies, how much blood do they have to use, how strong are they, there are limits.”

  “Can he re-grow body parts?”

  “Oh! Well, small ones I would think yes, an eye or a finger, but an arm or a leg that is doubtful.”