Shhh! It's a secret

Eric Drake.

Eric couldn't help but scowl as Chantelle was already seeking to leave. He shifted in his seat as Maxine got up and went to help her, although she didn't really seem as though she needed it. He understood what Maxine was trying to do, convince her to stay, at least until they could get a workable plan with which to go from.

He caught Maxine's signal and nodded. "Yeah, don't you think it would be better if you just stuck around? I mean, its safer, isn't it? Its unlikely this guy even knows where you are, and even if he did, Max and I are here, so what's he gonna do? Attack all three of us?" Eric grinned and it gave the distinct impression that he hoped that the guy did indeed show up, just so he could get his hands on him.

Looking down, Eric noticed the way Maxine gently stroked Chantelle's hand. He tilted his head ever so slightly as he looked back up at her while she 'asked' him to go get Chantelle a drink. "Yeah, sure..." He muttered with a suspicious glance between the two of them.

Eric shrugged as he stood up, shaking his head as he passed under Maxine's harsh glare. He was sure to give the two of them ample time before he returned, not only with a drink for Chantelle, but a refreshment for both his own and Maxine's as well.
 
Jackson.

"People, I saw people."

"Yes?" Jackson replied, unimpressed.

"Women, beautiful women."

"Yesss?" He hissed, his interest pequed.

"Laughing with men."

"Hmph, yes?" He seemed to lose some of his interest.

"Lying with men."

"Oh? Yes, and?" He asked, the back of his hand caressing the smoothness of her throat.

What she said next stole his breath away, and he remained silent for the duration. Even when she had trailed off, shivering and shuddering, he remained silent for an unnerving length of time.

"Marie?" Jackson asked of Kayla with a hint of hopefulness in his voice. He touched his fingers gently to her lips, drawing near her, his breath upon her cheek. She flinched away, whimpering, begining to pant in fear. Jackson growled inarticulately and gutterally in her ear as he grasped her firmly under the jaw and turned her face back toward his. "Bring her back!" He demanded. "Let her speak!" He shouted in apparent frustration.
 
Jackson

Jackson listened in stunned silence to the whispering voice that came from Kayla's lips. He recognized the words as Welsh, but understood only some of it. Blood and God...

As the voice faded and Kayla fell against him, Jackson rested his hand upon her shoulder. He whispered back. "You will be all right for what I have told you." He layed Kayla down upon the bed and came atop her, pressing the firmness of his manhood agaisnt the tenderness of her sex through their cloths.

He began to kiss her, passionately, hotly along her jaw and down her neck. Taking a hand full of her hair he drew her head back so that her throat was bared. His mouth and tongue danced upon her flesh the threat of his teeth drew close to her skin as he forced his free hand under her cloths and between her legs to fondle her sex lewdly, to make her ready for penetration.
 
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Chantelle realized her predicament was worse than she’d originally anticipated, she slid onto the sofa with Maxine’s assistance and after listening to both her and Eric; things became quite clear. These two strangers weren’t just being polite and friendly; they actually cared about her! That was the last thing Chantelle wanted because it made it about a million times more difficult to just slip away.

She looked on as Maxine asked Eric to get a drink for her and her eyes dropped to the other woman’s hand on her’s.

“Thank you…” Chantelle murmured, “But really, I’ll be fine…”

Chantelle sighed and made a snap second decision to lie through her teeth even though it meant degrading herself in front of these people. She took her hand back from Maxine slowly and shifted slightly so her back was to the woman. Her hands slid to the hem of the oversized shirt and she lifted it to bare her lower back.

“Now do you see?” She asked softly, her face flushed crimson and Chantelle muttered, “The ‘J’ stands for Jackson…he’s my…he’s ah…my pimp.”

She swallowed hard as she realized that in some backward way; she had just lowered herself to a great stage of shame and confessed herself to be a prostitute. Her lower back revealed a large burn mark in the shape of a ‘J’. It had long since scarred over and was covered in criss-crossing lines that were indicative of a whip. It was however quite clear that Chantelle Brannigan had been branded as though she were cattle.
 
Eric Drake

"Bullshit..." Eric muttered under his breath as Chantelle lied, so lightly that only one with keen hearing could have caught his words. He instantly knew it for a lie from the subtle inflections in her voice that were at odds with her demeanor. She may have been beaten by one stronger than her, but her spirit was not broken as she wanted them to believe.

Max seemed taken in by her though as she touched the burn mark on Chantelle's back. Eric turned his head away and rolled his eyes, sneering. He kept silent though, something about Max still put him off. He was playing his cards close, until he understood her.

He nodded with a knowing smirk as she turned to smile at him.

"Wha?" Eric muttered as Maxine expressed something about gratitude, togetherness and of all things, marriage. Then... His name...

"I... Uh... Of course, my love I could not live without you, after tonight!" He reached a hand in her direction as though he would soon die without her touch.
 
Jackson

Jackson stabbed his thick fingers sharply within Kayla's body just as he felt the first trickle of her fluid juices under his probing finger tips. Kayla began to cough as though comming too. Jackson struck her back sharply, instantly waking and sobering her from whatever nether-dream she had been in. The sting and discomfort in her was sobering. "Can't have a pretty girl like you choking to death, can we?" Jackson said, his voice lilting with old culture.

He thurst and ground his fingers into her depths, as she looked about, gasping in a daze. "Wetnesss." Jackson hissed as he felt the milkiness of her sex coat his fingers. Drawing them out, he grasped Kayla by her hips and drew her back against the ridged sharpness of his cock, penetrating her. The betrayal of her bodies moisture permitting his invasion.
 
Chantelle frowned and dropped her shirt, turning in surprise at the sound of their announcement. This was certainly not the reaction she’d expected and it had the very definite sensation of a plan backfiring on her. She shifted uneasily in her seat as Maxine took her hands and then blew Eric a kiss.

She couldn’t be certain but Eric seemed mildly surprised by Maxine’s actions and stumbled over his words. Chantelle’s eyes narrowed as she suspected a lie in her midst but the proof was nonexistent and her expression cleared with that realization. She couldn’t accuse them of lying about falling madly in love in just a few hours without any evidence to support it. Still she was just a stranger to them and they were the same to her...and each other...

She pasted a look of sudden surprise on her face and smiled in a way that made her seem like a near perfect plastic Barbie doll, “Oh I uh...I...I’m flattered...con-congratulations, I had no idea. But uh really, it was nothing...” She blushed bright red as though embarrassed but really her mind was whirring hopelessly with a way out of here before Jackson took her choices away entirely.

She did not want to leave them so suspiciously but even now she was feeling the pull growing stronger and Chantelle’s worry was starting to show on her face.

“I would truly love to attend your wedding ceremony but I do have work tonight, I ah have to make a living...” At least she was being honest about that much, Chantelle may not have been up front about her occupation but she did work.

“I could always come to your ceremony tomorrow...if you tell me where you’re going to have it?” She asked with the slightest tinge of desperation in her tone, she knew there was no way in hell she’d be leaving the house once Jackson was through with her though thankfully he’d never scarred her face...yet.
 
Eric Drake

Eric blinked in surprise over Maxine's boldness in slipping him the tongue. "Welp, might as well give her a run for her money while we're at it." He thought to himself as he drew her in agaisnt his body, pressing the firm bulge of his manhood against her slender belly, with one hand cupping and then squeezing the supple curve of her behind. He peered passed her, at Chantelle to read her reaction just as he felt the subtle warmth come from Maxine. "Oh yeah, I'm good." He thought with egotistical pride.
 
Jackson

Kayla's struggle between mind and body were no secret to Jackson. Her groan was not one of pleasure but revulsion even as she spread her thighs to accept him in between. It amused him, feeling how readily her flesh took him in while her heart and soul keened for him to stop. He laughed cruelly in her ear as she grunted in pain. Her whimpers were like a song to him.

So when she finally gave herself over to him, his frustration grew. He wanted, needed her to resist, her struggle was his pleasure. To have her want what he gave her angered him. He raked at her breasts, pinched at her nipples, drew her warm blood, wanting her to resist. He tasted the line of crimson he had left on one of her breasts, leaving it stinging from the heat of his tongue. Then he kissed her, making her taste the tang of her own blood upon his tongue.

The shudders of her impending climax started deep within her as she arched and writhed beneath Jackson. The milky white froth of their mingling spendings ringed Kayla's painfully stretched entrance as Jackson plunged his thickness into her again and again, faster and faster.

Jackson could feel the quivering spasms of Kayla's orgasmic release throbbing and milking around his thrusting cock. He lifted up on his arms as he thrust sharply and deeply into her flexing quim. It did nothing to move him to orgasm though. The white gleam of her teeth, the hungry animal snarl on her lips and the horrible, trembling screams that came tearing in such exquisite pitch from her slender throat... That sent him into extacy.
 
Chantelle knew it shouldn’t bother her like this but watching the two of them kissing and Eric’s hands trailing over Maxine’s body truly hurt her. Jackson would never be tender to her; he never loved her and he never would. She was a plaything to him but she was his alone and for her to touch another man or woman in such a way would only give him more reason to hurt her. It made her a whore in his eyes the first night he met her…

She shook her head and then turned back to Maxine, clearing her throat and trying to be polite. Once she had successfully gotten their attention; she gave them both a bright if not uncomfortable and tentative smile.

“I’d love to come to your wedding…but isn’t tomorrow a little fast?…” In truth she didn’t care, she wouldn’t be able to move once Jackson was finished and attending a wedding would be the last thing on her mind.

She was just thankful they were allowing her to leave at last without too much fuss, her feet were tingling now and reminding her of what would happen if she tried to disobey a direct command from Jackson. She sipped the last of her drink and lifted her shirt up, the bandaging was wet indeed. She dropped it and looked over at the pair of them again.

“Yeah, my bandage is wet…you wouldn’t mind would you? I’d hate for it to get infected or anything and I don’t really know much first aid beyond ‘apply pressure’ and ‘CPR.” Chantelle gave an embarrassed smile and wondered why Eric was sticking around if the two of them were just acting.
 
Jackson

Jackson was oblivious to Kayla's supernatural epiphany as he withdrew from her and slipped from the bed. He worked it so he would be aware any time she communed with Marie. He looked down at Kayla as she let herself slip into unconsciousness and sniffed derisively at her weakness of will.

Stretching and scratching himself Jackson walked away, leaving Kayla on the bed. A few minutes later, he returned with an easel and all the accoutrements he would need to begin painting her. Just as he became aware of Marie's presense, he began playing his brush to the canvas.

The image Jackson painted began with a clinging fog about the edges, like a memory comming into focus. Then the pervading essence of cheap and unfullfilling sex. Approaching the core of the canvas, Jackson saw that he painted hands, dainty things seeking and probing through a close and personal darkness, glistening with moisture.

He stepped back and pondered what he had painted then shifted his eyes toward Kayla's form on his bed. She was stirring as if aroused. Was this Marie's game? To steal away the eyes he had so carefully and meticulously crafted? He sneered as he rounded the canvas and reached out for Kayla's hair. He would not lose her to a dead woman, to be sure. "Get back here, you whore, tell me what she is saying! Tell me what Marie is saying to you!" Jackson demanded. Her sobbing did nothing to soften his volatile anger. "Were you fucking her? Don't you know... Don't you know that she is dead!?"
 
Eric Drake

Eric saw how Chantelle looked looked at them while they kissed and abruptly ended the kiss, feeling oddly guilty, having enjoyed it more then he thought he would. He turned away and took a drink from one of the glasses he'd made. "I sure hope you know what you're doing Max, because I don't." He whispered under his breath.
 
Chantelle obliged and followed Maxine to the treatment room, she was more than worried and tried not to seem like she was rushing. She sat down and nodded in understanding as Maxine described what she was about to rub into Chantelle’s skin. Unfortunately she had to agree that what had been a beautiful blue halter dress was now ruined beyond repair.

She followed Maxine to her bedroom and she shook her head, she was feeling a bit light headed by now. She chose some clothing and waited until Maxine went to wash her hands before she changed into them; they certainly fit her a lot better. A tight red tank top and a better fitting pair of black track pants. Suddenly she was hit by a wave of dizziness as she straightened up and practically fell onto the bed into a sitting position.

Her breathing slowed and her eyes slowly went out of focus, she barely realized Maxine had re-entered the room and laid her down. Chantelle was in a clear space, the unknown and her mind couldn’t even tell her that anything was wrong. She tried to lift her arm and it refused to comply, her mind told her it didn’t exist…nothing existed now except what her ears decided to tell her was there…
 
"Ahmph!" Eric responded to Maxine's touch, his bluff called. When she turned away, so did he, hiding his red face behind the glass of his drink. He had nearly finished it in a couple of stout gulps when Maxine and Chantelle passed through and Max instructed him to make them all sandwitches. "But..." He began, they had already passed by.

He'd gotten to the point of chosing condiments when Maxine returned once more. Looking up he grinned as he displayed a jar of Vegemite and a container of Branston Pickle. "What's your poison?" He asked teasingly, having chosen them for their american obscurity.

"Hurryup? I've never heard of it... Oh!" He joked lamely as he came around the kitchen island to follow her, only to freeze with a kitchen knife in hand at the mention of something that sounded an aweful lot like magical compulsion to him. "I knew it! You're some sort of witch! Castin spells and stuff! Don't go running naked under the moon, too, do you?" He let out a sigh and shot back "What, not high enough level to cast 'stop time' yet?" at her sharpness but followed her reguardless.
 
Jackson.

"No..." Jackson whispered, barely audibly as he painted Kayla's thoughts. The dark haired, dark eyed beauty taking form on the canvas was unmistakeable, and yet he denighed it. "It cannot be..." He muttered as he ran another stroking line of black along the canvas even though he knew it was. Who it was... He had seen her face only once, but it had ever been etched upon his mind.

"She seemed so perfect, so ripe, so ready to be plucked..." He continued, to himself, to Kayla, to whatever ears would listen. "How was I to know... Forgive me... How was I to KNOW!" He went from a weak and faltering voice to the cracking shout of a madman as he struck the easel and canvas, shattering it appart. For several minutes all that could be heard was the uneven breaths of Jackson's rage, panic, and fear filled lungs.
 
Chantelle felt like she was floating around in the ether, she wasn’t really here or there…she just was. Voices were whispering things she couldn’t understand, were they speaking another language? It felt like she wasn’t meant to be in this place; she had somewhere to go…but where? Chantelle couldn’t remember, this smoky scenario was clouding and twisting her every thought and while the voices and the incorporeal ghosts were shifting position and constantly moving; she was standing still.

Chantelle shook her head and her lips parted, the air wasn’t even air here; it was inconsistent and filled with pollution; impure to her. She called in silence through the haze and the only response was the voices whispering louder in garbled English.

“I don’t understand you, what are you saying?!” Chantelle yelled out, her left foot moving forward and her abdomen arching back as one of the translucent forms rushed forward and stepped right into her comfort zone.

The being solidified then and finally Chantelle could identify it as a woman, she wore an old dirty and tattered gown. Chantelle was certain she could walk right through her but was far too scared to. The ghostly woman stretched her hand out to almost caress Chantelle’s cheek but her fingers passed straight through Chantelle and gave her a very icy sensation in this room that seemed to have no discernable temperature; it wasn’t hot or cold…it just was.

The woman started whispering then, in that same confusing language and Chantelle said in a meek voice, “Please, I don’t understand what you’re saying…”

The ghostly aberration ceased in mid sentence and all the voices fell silent. The room was frozen for a moment as the woman leaned in closer to whisper in Chantelle’s ear, “He will kill them…and he will come for you…he has you, owns you…more than you know…”

Her voice was harsh and just as every bad horror movie she had ever seen had predicted but then the ghost woman vanished and the voices began their garbled whispering all over again…
 
Eric grinned as Maxine reappeared, a grin that noted full well he had begun to get under her skin. "I was begining to wonder why we were standing her talking about condoments and not going to see about Chantelle..." He said dryly as she steered the conversation back to the issue at hand. "I am curious though..." Eric began as he motioned Maxine on and made to follow her. "Why is it she will only respond to my voice, and not yours?"

He noticed her shiver as she looked back at him, seeming so vulnerable, he reached out to brush a lock of hair from her eyes, letting it fall behind one ear. As he drew his hand away, he found himself gently draw the back of his hand along her soft pale cheek. Catching himself he coughed and looked away before following her back to where Chantelle lay.

The moment he entered the room he felt a sudden unease, as if someone were watching from the shadows, but kept the feeling to himself.
 
Jackson

Jackson sat and stared upon Kayla as she lay still in his bed for some time ignorant to the thoughts passing through her mind as he had since left off his painting. There came a gasp from her lips then, one of revelation, she no doubt had come to guess the method by which he had been able to spy into her minds eye.

Through the cold, silent room, Jackson drifted back to Kayla's side, caressing her naked breast in his hand, evoking a groan from her lips. He laughed shrilly at her unbidden reaction to his touch. Her submission was nearly as satisfying to him as the revoltion he knew she felt for herself, knowing that she wanted death rather than endure the sick gratification he gave her.

Tormenting her, keeping her at the edge of release, he took her slick juices and painted her breasts with them, coaxed her lips to part at the tast of it, even tortured her with the wet slurching sound of her own agonizingly aroused nether-lips. He pinched and strummed the rosey red nub of her clit until she showed any sign of anticipation, only to leave off until she'd calmed ever so slightly. It was clear he would continue this way if she gave any outward sign of her closeness, forcing her to play his sick game.
 
"What the hell?!" Eric began as Maxine tugged him out of the room and laid a rather experienced kiss on him. This was crasy, he'd sensed something in the room, just as she had. And that gesture, she obviously knew alot more than she had let on. It was about time he simply out right confronted her.... Once their kiss was over.

Eric turned and pressed Maxine against the wall as he played his tongue agaisnt her lips. "I know..." He muttered back, against her lips. "It reads like a ghost." He took hold of her wrist and made to press his hand into hers but the lingering cold of her palm instantly drew his attention. He drew her hand up and exposed her palm even though she tried to draw away. There was a blister already forming on her skin. His brow tightened as he let her hand go and drew back from her. "I think it's about time we dropped the act, don't you?" He asked very seriously as he concentrated and let only the slightest hint of his beastial nature show. His pupils turned yellow and his finger nails grew harder and thicker, out into blunted curving points.
 
Jackson

"Pity? For the likes of you? Your kind? Your sex?" Jackson growled as he drove his fingers deep into her slick velvety hole. "You drain a man of his vitality only to disgorge your vile, blood and bile caked offspring at his feet... And you would ask for pity?" Jackson's fingers dug roughly into the walls of Kayla's sex as he thrust them in and out of her.
 
Eric Drake

Eric followed her back out to the living room and casually sat next to her when she motioned for him to join. He grinned and shifted his countenance toward her as she took a deep breath to speak. "How strange, our stories seem so similar. My 'mother' " Eric put finger quotations around the statement. "Charged my kind to do much of the same. We... They call them 'The wyrm', because they are outside the cirlce of life and therefore corrupt. Vampires?" He asked to confirm.

"And you, you smell so familiar, but something is missing, you are not a child of Gaia? You're not of egyptian liniage are you?" Something about that proposition seemed to worry Eric as he shifted down the couch, putting space between them.

"Dark angels? What dark angels? Demons? The fallen?!" This seemed to only put Eric more on edge.

"Oh, oh yes, Chantelle most certainly has been kissed by a vampire, I can smell it on her, the corruption of his... It's mouth... Hah, I can resist any mental control the leech might try as well." There was a note of pride, even superiority in Eric's voice as he said as much.

"I... I am an abomination..." Eric replied to Maxine's last question.
 
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Jackson

1880'S London, Whitechapel:

There down the alley stood the woman, her long wild raven hair flowing in a wave on an unseen breeze, beaconing him. He was drawn by her silent mystique. He wanted to open her, to see, to feel what her flesh hid from his senses. She opened her arms to him even though he held his surgical blade aloft in a threatening manner. Without even a wince, she stood as he drew the knife across her throat. The sudden slick spurt of her blood coating his fingers, familiar. What was not, was her calm, her cold, cat like eyes as she waited for his reaction.

His breath caught as he stared in awe, that this woman did not melt like the others, in pain and terror, her blood showering him, hot and wet. How, he wondered, how could she...

He was bathed in spatters of hot blood, showering him fully, and still she stood, seemingly immune to deaths embrace. "How?" He whispered through gaunt lips, as it was he who sunk to his knees, and she, with perfect flashing fangs set upon him!

Jackson awoke screaming like a terrified child, rolling away from Kayla, only to fall with a thump to the floor.
 
Eric Drake

Eric felt the warmth of Maxine's body as she drew against him, pinning him in the corner of the couch. He gave her a weary grin as she pressed his hand against her cheek. "We need each other, you and I..." She said to him, and without thinking, Eric stole a kiss from her lips.
 
Jackson

"Kaylaaaaa..." Jackson cried out pathetically as he stumbled away, feeling sickness tumble through his body. He wretched and tried to evacuate the coppery taste that filled his mouth and lungs. A pool of blackness splashed the cobble stones as he felt to his hands and knees.

"Kayla..." He croaked, desperate to be free of this horrid vision, memory. She was close behind him, mocking and teasing him for his lack of strength in the face of his desereved fate. "Witch!" He growled and spat more blackness from his mouth.

She clucked her tongue and knelt at his side, reaching out to lift his chin in the black lace palm of her gloved hand. Her eyes had the seeming of crimson moons as She looked upon him, and into him. "Now now, lurv, yerv a bit to be learnin 'fore I see ye off t' the beyond... Kayla, m'dear, take im ome, won't ye? These streets r' plenty filthy 'nough wit out th' likes o' im clutterin em up."
 
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