Le Roi Du Sang

by Tiana Laveen

  “Just like I said! You’re a fuckin’ coward!” Alexandre screamed at the top of his lungs as he stomped through bloody puddles on the ground amongst the maze of carcasses. “Quit sending your cronies after me and fight like a fuckin’ man!”

  Suddenly, he was surrounded by five cloaked entities, blackness instead of faces, their eyes glowing bright red. Heat like he’d never felt rushed through his body. “Oh… you motherfuckers wanna play?” He smirked. “My brother sent you. You’ve come for the king’s head.”

  One of them moved ever so slightly, a buzzing sound emitting from its nonexistent mouth. The noise grew louder when all of them were doing it simultaneously. The ringing burned his senses and he began to spin about, covering his sensitive ears with his free hand while holding tight to his sword in the other.

  The deafening noise pieced through him like miniature swords, jabbing until he completely lost his mind. He yelled out in agony and stumbled about, trying to keep his composure. His mind turned to a fog and he felt as if he were revolving like the Earth, seeing only a dizzying display of reddened eyes, black capes, and leaping, angry flames. A sudden searing heat radiated along his leg. He looked down and took notice of a fiery skeletal hand clutched to his knee, slowly climbing higher. One of the cloaked fuckers was holding onto him, trying to debilitate his ability to move altogether. Alexandre took in a deep breath, mustering all of his strength to snap out of the extraordinary, incapacitating trance they’d put him in.

  “Ahhhh!” he yelled out as he did a hard roundhouse kick and knocked the bastard off him then flew like a phoenix up into the air, his head inches away from the ceiling. “All of you will die!”

  Opening his mouth, he breathed out a cold breeze that surrounded the demons, silencing them. Flying back down, he cut the air with his sword and removed all of their heads in one swoop. Their bodies tumbled to the ground, but when he landed and kicked their cloaks open, there was nothing but broken bits of bone and heaps of gray ash. The hooded heads no longer had eyes, only smoke billowing from the black cloth.

  “VIIIICTOR!” Sweat dribbled down his bare chest as he stomped around the place, smiling wickedly, his mind broken and scattered like fallen puzzle pieces. Adrenaline rushed through him in full drive, his heart pumping fast and hard. Nostrils flared… he was not leaving without his pound of flesh, even if he had to pay with his own life, too. “Don’t you think we’re a bit too old to still be playing Hide and Go Fuck Yourself? Come out, come out, wherever the hell you are!”

  Alexandre entered a small enclosure with mirrors for walls. He took a breath, and then another.

  He’s so close…

  A purple and gold jewelry box sat on the floor in the center of the small chamber. The notes of ‘Candle in the Wind’ by Elton John, played and a tiny, black ballerina moved around and around—only she was upside down, her legs extended in the air and a strange, off-putting expression on her tiny, painted face. Alexandre reached into his pants pocket and attached one of Zhang Wei’s throwing stars onto the tip of the blade, securing it with the bloodied bullet that had been inside his arm. He blew heat upon the ammunition, making it pliable, like gunmetal colored clay, then blew cool air to make it hard once again.

  “That’s what has come between us…” Victor’s voice boomed. “A pretty little upside down, wicked monstrosity… a thing.” His brother’s image appeared in a mirror, and then another, and another. The man was dressed in black from head to toe, a ruby inverted cross hanging from his neck. “I will never forgive our mother for creating her… and I will never forgive you for nurturing her degeneracy, making her stronger, then turning your back on the Coven, deserting Paris. You’ve shamed the throne.”

  “Oh, Victor.” Alexandre groaned. “We both know this has little to do with the Coven, Mother, Paris, or Venus… My Bloodmate was just a tool, a matter of contention for you to get yourself a way in. You played upon that. She was a ticket to ride, something you could abuse to try and get your way.”

  He threw up his free hand. “But you failed. You’ve created an insane, nightmarish Disney World of sorts here, but I suppose even this simply wasn’t enough.” Alexandre looked about the place and grimaced. “No, you needed the real thing… the realistic sex dolls with wet, tight, plastic pussies, the nonstop hand jobs, masturbating yourself to unconsciousness weren’t doing the trick. The vibrating, battery-operated silicon mouths were no longer doing the job, either.” Victor stepped slowly around and around, as if moving up and down on a carousel. Where was he? “No, dear brother… you’d grown bored. You needed a woman of your very own… a powerful one. Dominance is infectious and addictive all at once. Power is definitely female. We crave it like blood, the fearful, choppy breathing of prey, and the last thump of a strong heartbeat coming to an end.” Alexandre slicked his tongue into the air, tasting it. Anger and fear from a fellow vampire were salty… like human tears.

  “After your death tonight, Alexandre, I will endure a grueling hearing. My alibi will prove that I was thousands of miles away. I will tell the Council how wrought with grief I am over your death, especially since we’d ended our relationship on such tumultuous terms.”

  “Your delusions are always rather entertaining, Victor. Where’d you get such a creative, twisted mind? Perhaps instead of living off your inheritance, you should have become a magician? You keep tricking yourself after all… perpetual sleight of hand and mind.”

  “Oh no, I can see things quite clearly, big brother. I understand that your wedding is being planned, the final steps, as we speak. In fact, you’re due to be married in the next few days, right here on Parisian soil. What a pity that Venus will lose her lover, and what a sad realization will come upon her when she understands that it will be I, who is next in line, to make her my sex slave and fuck her ruthlessly, relentlessly, mercilessly, until she perishes from the pleasure and unimaginable agony….”

  “AHHH!” Alexandre moved back as a large, shiny black sword swiped by his head. Victor came after him with his sword drawn, but only in the mirrors… he was fighting a mere ghost. Alexandre wielded his weapon, swinging it wildly to the left, then the right. He winced when he felt moisture. Blood trickled down the right side of his face. He reached up to catch bits of black glass that were stuck along his cheek and temple, scraping and cutting, no idea where they’d come from.

  The flickering shadow of something fluttering about could be seen out the corner of his eye. He could hear a heart thumping like ancient drums within the chest cavity of the depraved entity better known as Victor. Shards of glass burst from one of the mirror panels as his brother leapt from it, slicing him across his chest. A perfectly formed cut started to bleed, dripping and pooling with red essence. Victor’s nostrils flared as he cut the air again and again. In a flurry of motion, Alexandre dropped to the floor and rolled a safe distance away.

  Victor levitated off the ground as if in slow motion then swooped down like a famished eagle after juicy prey. The tip of the blade almost jammed in Alexandre’s stomach as he rolled to and fro, kicking and sliding, trying to get back onto his feet. Propping his shoulder against a corner, he quickly propelled himself upward, making a mad dash towards the other side of the area. His brother chased him about, lunacy in his eyes.

  “I’m better than you, Alexandre!” Victor roared as he paraded back and forth like a snow leopard in a cage. “We could’ve been a team! BUT NO! You had to go and ruin it!”

  “You’ve come undone… you’re fuckin’ insane!” Alexandre breathed slow and hard, mentally measuring the distance between him and the man, calculating his next move.

  “I am a genius! I had the brains, you had the looks and appeal. We could’ve ruled the woooorld! But no… Everything is gone now, but I will gain it back!”

  “You want to be king, Victor? You can’t even run this crazy municipality you’ve created, let alone an entire country. Definitely not the world!”

  Victor burst out laughing.

  “You idiot! I was born to be
king. I am not so consumed with fables from a whacky wizard assigned during my youth, who died centuries ago, predicting that I would forsake my Coven and my country in the future. You think I’m not personable, you believe no one likes me? That’s ironic!” He laughed, a loud, harsh sound. “The people you trust, the very ones you hold dear, now despise you!”

  “Hmmm, really?” Alexandre grinned as he slid a cigarette he’d been holding onto for Whiskey out of his pants pocket, and lit it with his fingertip. “Like who? Since you believe the jig is up for me, maybe you can, uh, ya know, humor me… tell me as my last dying wish.”

  “Right now, I have your very own Fawn at my fingertips. She’ll do as I wish!”

  Alexandre leaned against the wall and drew on the cigarette, smiling from ear to ear. Victor’s smile faded ever so slightly, but it was more than apparent that he was determined to hide his confusion at such a reaction.

  “Do you know what traitor pussy smells like, Vic?” Alexandre swallowed the cigarette whole and began to toss his sword in the air, catching it like a ball going up and down. “It’s piquant… it’s intoxicating. It’s a flavor you never forget. See, it’s usually attached to a temptress, the kind of bitch that most men, vampires, wolves, you name it, would go loco over. I met Fawn in a bar one night. She worked there, barely making ends meet. She was only a couple decades old in her Turned life… fresh, so very young, and ripe with desire. On the side, she stripped. I’m sure you know that part, though. You make sure to find out weaknesses. She was a black hearted, cold blooded slaughterer… fed her hunger like no other, with not an ounce of remorse. She was amazing… you know, the kind of woman we like.

  “I knew immediately that a lot of guys would love her, take to her. She was smart. She was beautiful. But I never trusted her. Yet, being the man I am, with the way my mind works, I knew that she’d be a perfect addition to my law firm. You know the old adage, ‘How do you know when a lawyer is telling the truth? He stops talking.’.” Alexandre chuckled loudly, then turned in a flash. He quickly karate chopped an attacking guard in the neck, then tossed one of the extra throwing stars into the bastard’s skull. The fool slumped against the wall then fell to the ground. He casually turned back to his brother who was still pacing, his sword high, his eyes dark.

  “I hope you don’t mind… I’m just gonna let him bleed out for a sec, then I’ll finish him off in just a little bit.” There’s a special poison on this blade from this star now, but what’s in it is an ancient Chinese secret.” He winked at his brother and grinned. “It focuses on the brain… what little you have left that hasn’t been devoured by madness. Shhh… you hear that? He’s gasping for air. I like the sound of his suffering… it calms me. Anyway.” He coughed back up the cigarette he’d swallowed earlier and puffed it a few good times. “As I was saying. Fawn was bought and purchased with the intent that she’d do all that she’s done and more. You fell right into my trap. If someone is going to use a deterrent against me, I prefer to be the inventor of that weapon. Congratulations! You win the, ‘I fucked myself up’ award!”

  Victor lessened the distance between them, his black sword still drawn.

  “Lies. This is what you do. You’re a lawyer by trade. You’re a mind fucker, but I know you well, brother. I’m not falling for it, Alexandre.” Victor’s fangs gleamed from beneath the curled lips of a wicked smile. The bastard wore a proud expression, held his head high.

  “Oh really? I’m full of shit? Where is she at then, Victor?” His brother’s smile faded. “You asked her to do something, right? Yet, she isn’t where she is supposed to be. She left you to handle it all by your damn self. Again. She will never come directly after me. She still sees me as the prize. You honestly think she ever wanted you?! You can’t use my own bitch against me. I made her.”

  “I… I don’t believe you! You’d never have anyone in your midst that you didn’t trust… you’re far too paranoid.”

  “Oh, I trust her… I trust her to do just as she did. Stab me in the back!” They raced towards one another at full speed, and yet it felt like everything was quiet… still… barely moving. Alexandre held his sword high, aiming for the bastard’s head. Victor mimicked his stance. The slicing pain of the black blade ran the length of his body. He hollered out, the moans of his ancestors echoing in his mind. Black feathers and bits of shiny glass fell from nowhere; the heavens rained hell upon their heads. A roaring call, a whiny moan, and an ungodly heat surrounded him. His body shook as he looked down at the black knife embedded deeply into his chest.

  He slowed down, the radiating pain stealing his breath, his chest dripping and draining like a sink faucet. His brother laughed, his voice echoing throughout the abysmal, funhouse-like chambers.

  “Look at the king!” Victor taunted as he scaled the wall, teasing and toying with him. “That sword in your body is one of a kind! It belonged to our great, great grandfather, King François Marseille. I found it in the abandoned ruins of our childhood home… left like trash in the dust and rubble!” the madman went on, taunting, talking, laughing… It was obvious he wished for him to die a slow, agonizing death.

  Alexandre looked about, his eyelids heavy as his energy drained. He kept his sword up, stayed on his feet… but for how long? He wouldn’t live by the sword and die by the sword; he’d simply bleed and bleed and when he was weak enough to the point where he was unable to lift a finger, he’d need to be fed… but his brother would starve him. Perhaps worse, feed from him while he was dying, taking his last bit of life… the ultimate disrespect.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Alexandre spotted the half dead guard he’d jammed one of Zhang Wei’s throwing stars into. The guy breathed harshly, gasping for breath. Alexandre took slow steps back, pretending to stumble more than he needed, until he was practically standing on top of the body. In his mind, he counted slowly as his brother screamed, telling him what a fuckup he was… how he hated him so… how he and their mother destroyed the French Pure Blood legacy.

  He counted in his head…

  3…

  2…

  1…

  “AHHHH!” He fell back onto the body until he landed face down on the guy, the guard beneath him wailed. Using the fucker as a shovel, Alexandre moved his torso against the half dead bastard, until the sword began to move, pushing outward.

  “What are you doing?!” Victor screamed out.

  Gritting his teeth, blood dribbling from his mouth down his chin, he worked the tip of the blade out of his back. He got to his feet, both blades in hand now, then knelt down and cut the guard’s neck, putting him out of his misery. Victor attacked again, screaming as he raced towards him, vengeance in his eyes. With both blades raised, Alexandre yelled and impaled his brother in the chest with the black blade from their forefather. At the same time, he drove the silver Chinese star into his forehead.

  Victor stopped in his tracks… swaying back and forth… a look of lost hope, forsakenness… and brokenness in his violet eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but only bright red blood pooled out, garbling his words.

  “K…Kill… me…” Victor uttered, his eyes filling with watery crimson tears.

  Alexandre snatched the sword out of his brother’s head, knowing it would be a short time before he succumbed to the poisons that would directly attack his brain, eating it up like ravenous worms… Raising the blade high in the air to cut off the fiend’s head, he prepared to do the deed that begged to be done until large, silky black feathers fell from all directions and a moan that rattled the world vibrated his soul. The black raven swooped low then disappeared into the shadows. Half a second later, his mother emerged from the darkness.

  Queen Geneviève…

  She slowly approached, her long black hair flowing like a boat sail behind her, her nude body covered in pieces of shimmering black glass. She floated, her bare feet not touching the ground. Long strands of thick hair covered her snow-white breasts and her pupils turned jet black right before his eyes. She took her wayward son
into her arms. Victor’s lids fluttered open and his mouth opened once more, but he was simply speechless… succumbing to his destiny. His body became limp in her grasp as she brought him close and kissed the wound on his forehead. Victor’s eyes rolled and he began to shake, the brain poison taking effect, a bit at a time…

  “My sons…” Mother’s face was now streaked in red as her bloody tears fell from her eyes. She rocked Victor against her body as she knelt to the ground with him in her arms, holding him close, like a baby. “You cursed me, and I cursed you,” she said with a smile as she looked down at him. “Your curse to me has been fulfilled. I have lost my boy… you’re dying. My curse to you begins now!”

  Mother sank her sharp, long teeth into his neck, brutally ripping and pulling at the alabaster skin. Victor’s eyes grew large as his body shook, his limbs going in all directions. Mother paused and looked at Alexandre, death and heartbreak in her eyes, the terrible pain visible. He could see it… feel it…

  Her greatest desires and fears had come true in the exact same night. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and roared in agony as she held Victor’s dead body against her own heartbeat.

  “Sometimes, a mother has to eat her young…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE