The Turning

[Niceandbrutal]

Thread now closed for DeliciousMaiden

Benoît scoped the scene before him. It was 9:30 PM and Club Vlad was open for business. Catering to the tastes and whims of the goth scene of this provincial city, the owner, namely himself, had chosen a name that was sure to strike a chord with fans of gothic horror. Club Vlad. 'Subtle' indeed. Nevertheless, the club served its purpose well as Benoît's feeding ground. As similar clubs had done over the centuries.

The times changed, the clientele stayed the same: Innocents thinking themselves edgy for their makeup and attire, decadents with a hunger for new sensations and stimuli, and the select few with a deathwish that felt the siren call of the undead. By far the easiest prey were the innocents. They were all too easy to mesmerize and lure away for a feeding tryst. The decadents felt they were let in on a delicious secret when he fed on them and made love to them. The ones heeding 'the call', as Benoît and his fellow vampires called it... Ah, such sweet surrender. Such passion.

Paradoxically, they were also the ones to fight hardest before surrendering. This had puzzled the undead society since the dawn of time. Attraction-rejection-surrender. It seemed like a set pattern. The ones heeding the call, or simply "The Called" were often the ones to be turned into vampires themselves. That's how Benoît came to be a vampire. A mysterious woman at the court of Louis XIV had lured him to Versailles and seduced him. He'd been her lover and she'd fed off him repeatedly before he finally begged her to turn him, arresting his physical development and rendering him forever with the appearance of a 26 year old noble.

Through the centuries, Benoît had seen nations rise and crumble, he'd watched Mozart conduct at his premieres, he'd fed off people from all over the world during the coloniaztions, he'd witnessed the only sacking of Washington DC in history, the birth of cinema, the horror of world wars and more besides.

Benoît, like most vampires, kept on the fringes of polite society lest his nocturnal habits became something to be questioned. They'd found their home with the bohemians and artists where the cycle of the vampire was the norm, not the exception. Lately, the goth scene also served their purpose with their all-too-willing suburbanites dressed in black and putting on decadent and mysterious airs.

Benoît fed without remorse. The choice between feeding and starving was easy. To save his victims after he fed, he'd have to mount and enter them to close the wounds. He'd so far never turned anyone, as he'd never seen the use for a companion. Right before she was beheaded in the reign of terror, his creator had shouted to him "The day will come when the call beckons you as well as your victim. Then beware Benoît, for you shall truly be lost!" She was crazy, of course

Benoît's reverie came to an end with a start. He'd been standing motionless for the best part of an hour, contemplating and using his senses to pick up clues for the evening. Dressed in a dark red shirt and black suit, he was almost impossible to spot, even though he was in human form. Slender and tall, with jet black hair and black eyes, Benoît struck an intimidating figure.

Something was off this evening. He felt something he hadn't felt since Berlin in the late 1920's. What could it be? Then it struck him like a delicious wave of comprehension and expectation: someone felt called to him!

He entered his club, where the darkness was almost complete (though that didn't bother Benoît much) and he scanned the room. The absinthe fountain in the bar did a brisk business as usual, young people clad in black tried to outdo each other in world-weariness and- THERE! Almost bursting with vitality a mesmerizing woman danced alone, swaying and turning half to the music's rhythm and half to her own, lost to the music and herself.

"And so it begins" Benoît thought, stunned by the sight of the most captivating woman he'd ever seen. He leveled his gaze at her, willing her to see him.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Natasha

Natasha had not even been aware of the club before that evening. True she had passed by the building during the day, but then the façade was as good as boarded up; the entrances barred and the place lifeless. There were small posters adorning the lamp posts and the walls around the club, but Natasha had only noticed them in passing … or so she thought.

It was a Friday night and she had agreed to meet with a group of friends in a local wine bar. The plan was to meet at 8 pm and then go on somewhere for something to eat, a timetable that though not quite routine, was not an unfamiliar plan for a Friday evening. She had started getting ready at 7 pm. Clothes were set out, a hot shower refreshing her, the time checked, knowing that she had only a 15 minute walk to the chosen destination. Yet the smart black slacks and cream blouse remained on the bed. Instead, Natasha found herself searching though her wardrobe and putting on an entirely different outfit altogether!

At 8:15 her mobile rang as she was leaving her home.
She let it go to message then listened to her voice mail:

”Tasha, where are you? Did you fall asleep? Get a better offer? Call us and let us know you’re ok. If we haven’t heard by half 8, one of us will be round, so get your ass in gear… “

The message was simply deleted and not responded to.

By the time one of her friends was ringing her doorbell at 8:45, Natasha was arriving at the club, which in comparison to the day time was vibrantly lit outside, the faint beat of music escaping out of the entrance which was populated by a cross section of black-clad individuals. For long moments she hovered outside, a rare moment of clarity as she realised that she was dressed in only her red corset top and long black skirt flaring out at the waist and finished off with strappy heeled sandals. She had a small clutch sized bag securely over one shoulder and one of her more elaborate necklaces about her neck. As she found herself walking towards the entrance, she caught her reflection and noted the uncharacteristically strong make up highlighted by blood red nails and lips. Her hair hung loose and slick and black. This wasn’t her; this wasn’t where she should be. Instinctively she froze knowing somehow that once she entered, there would be no going back.

But enter she did. Carried along by a group who initially bumped into her, then stepped aside to allow her to precede them through the doors, she had no choice but to enter and let that instinct which urged her to flight be subdued by the ambience of the place. The club was dark and seemed to pulse with a life that went beyond that of the music. She was surrounded by people and yet, she was alone amongst that throng. By virtue of her red attire she stood out and yet she did so for reasons she was not even aware of. If anyone around her paid her any attention, Natasha did not notice. Instead she focused upon picking her way through the rooms, through those who gathered in groups; she had no destination in mind, yet when she reached a smaller room with a bar and a tiny dance floor she knew that she had found a place to linger …

In the darkness, it seemed that her other senses took over, her surroundings were mere shapes, the music a rhythm that seemed to beat as if from within her. Logically she should have felt out of place and paranoid as this ‘scene’ was not something she had sought out before, yet almost as if a spell were cast upon her, she found her body swaying subtly, then more deliberately to the beat as she stepped unselfconsciously into a space beyond the dance floor and found herself caught up in a dance that seemed beyond her own making …

How long she lost herself in those sensual undulations she had no idea for she remained oblivious to everyone and everything around her. The awareness of being watched came suddenly and was so intense that she froze and turned her head, scanning the darkness, not even knowing who or what she sought out. Yet as her gaze settled upon the tall dark figure, who like her had a flash of red to break up the sombreness of his clothing, she knew that it was he who had been watching her. Inexplicably her pulses began to race, her chest rising and falling against her corset. Again she had a brief moment of lucidity when she became aware of the incongruity of her presence in this place and an instinct to flee almost overpowered her… and then he moved. Perhaps it was an inclination of the head, a slight turning of the body, or maybe even as subtle as a redirection of his gaze, but it was sufficient to quash those instincts and prompted her to take a single step towards him without understanding why.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

He took her in with his eyes.

Here was a creature of rare beauty and refinement, yet with an almost feral quality about her. He felt his gaze waver as he was overcome with a longing so strong it made his head swim. She stood there before him, her outfit mirroring his own, her makeup accentuating sensuous features full of promise, her chest heaving and pressing against the corset as she stood there after her lonely entrancing dance.

Not uttering a word, Benoît reached for, no, demanded her hand. Equally silent she held her hand out, offering it to him. Their eyes never broke contact as they started their dance. He held her firmly in his arms while he guided her in a series of controlled and measured moves that she followed instinctively and unquestioningly. The club with its noise faded away as their movements took on a life of their own, oblivious to the music of mere mortals. They were one to the beat of each other. As the dance progressed he felt her slipping from his control, trying to assert herself and demand equal control.

Her eyes grew wider, her breath came in short, almost panicked, bursts and her moves took on an urgent nature as she changed the rhythm on her own. Benoît tried leading her, but found it difficult to match her rhythm as her pace quickened. When he thought he matched her movements she changed again leaving him to catch up with her anew. She seemed lost and confused. Benoît felt hurt, then fury seized him as he again demanded control of her.

Eyes glowing, he took her and held her to stop her madcap dance. Her pace slowed down, but she still demanded equal control of their dance. Benoît finally relinquished and she again relaxed in his arms, all signs of struggle gone, her beautiful features at peace with him. The dance ended in a silent embrace. The club was quiet. They were alone.

He gently relinquished his grip on her and held her at arms length. He seized her right hand with his, icy cold to the touch, and kissed it, revelling in the warmth and smell of the vibrant woman before him.

"That was exquisite. Come with me. But allow me to introduce myself first. I am Benoît. Enchanté, Mademoiselle."

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Natasha - the dance

The gap between them closed somehow. The two had moved for they found themselves conspicuously on the dance floor, yet their surroundings meant nothing. He opened his hand towards her and she accordingly placed her own warm hand into the coolness of his. Even in her heels, his stature made it necessary for her to lift her eyes to meet his and once that visual contact had been made she found it impossible to look away.

His arms were around her, guiding her with firm confidence. Somehow her body mirrored his, following his lead, as if responding to a beat as familiar as that of the pounding of her own pulses. They were as one and she found herself drawn helplessly towards him, their moves parallel as they wove one around the other until her body finally pressed against his, that contact jolting her mind and body with an intensity she did not understand and prompting an irrational panic as she knew she had to pull away.

And so she tried to evade him. Rather than the symbiotic sway, it seemed that he were circling her as if she were his prey. Wherever she moved, he checked her advance or retreat. He attempted time and again to draw her towards him, yet she evaded that grasp, spinning away from him, or twisting just out of reach. The dance became a battle, a battle of wits and wills as time and again she remained elusive, her body just out of his reach as she resisted submitting to the illogical intensity between them.

When he finally caught her, she could feel the anger in his body. His hands held her still, their strength pressing into her upper arms, finger marks unheeded on her pale skin. His eyes seemed to flash, causing her to catch her breath, both attracted and fearful of him, yet totally mesmerised by both emotions. Slowly, she began to sway once more, this time within arm’s length, an offer of a compromise to which he reacted by releasing his hold. Accordingly, she danced opposite him, this time face to face, her body close, though not touching as they swayed subtly. Again it seemed as if the two were drawn into sharing that slow rhythm, neither one nor the other seeming to close that small distance between them, yet somehow she found herself in his arms. This time as that brief panic flared, he held her gently, stilling that instinct to struggle and flee. That impulse quashed, Natasha was overwhelmed by a feeling of peace, of belonging as she sighed into his embrace…

They stood silent and immobile for long moments. It was he who drew her way from him, though only at arm’s length as he took her hand and kissed it, the cool touch a stark contrast to the heat of their dance.

"That was exquisite. Come with me. But allow me to introduce myself first.
I am Benoît. Enchanté, Mademoiselle."

She took a steadying breath.

”Benoit … “

She echoed, trying out his name on her lips.

”I’m Natasha … “

She told him breathlessly offering no resistance as he drew her away from the dance floor. It never entered her mind not to go with him …

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Natasha...

Benoît's head was tumultuous. He hadn't stepped out of time (as he called it) with a dance since he'd danced with Madeléine, his sire and mentor. The memory and its associated emotions gave him some pause as he remembered ...her lithe form, dancing in the moonlight in the gardens of Versailles. She led him on, letting him chase her and in turn chasing him until they let themselves be caught. She approached him and held him, surprisingly strong for such a small and seemingly frail creature. Then she leaned in and kissed him, and...
He snapped out of it. He'd stopped halfway up the stairs with Natasha close behind him. He could smell her trepidation as he led her into his private chamber.

The windows were securely shuttered and sparse indirect lighting lent the room a calming effect. The walls were white, as was the ceiling. The floor was a dark wood panel. The room was sparingly furnished. There was a large black bed with white drapes and linens. A black couch and living room table opposite the bed, with a black bookshelf nearby. Along the wall all around the room were ornamental shelves. The main theme of the room was subdued monochromatism, which suited Benoît just fine.

On the shelves and hanging on the walls were mementos from the centuries past with special significance to Benoît. Museums would be thrilled to get their hands on some of the pieces contained here, and Benoît had on occasion sold lesser mementos to keep him in money. The only flash of color in the room was a small laquered dark wooden box with a rose formed by inlaid mother of pearl. It sat on a pedestal with a discrete spotlight fixed on it, the only object Benoît wouldn't part with.

"And here we are, my Natasha" Benoît said. He turned and looked at her, again enjoying the view, the smell and the surrender of Natasha. He stepped toward her, asking for her hand again. "Let me tell you of my life and what I am, for I want to share it with you. I desire you, Natasha."

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Natasha was unaware of the rooms they moved through, whether any one noticed their progress through the assembled throng. Silently he drew her to a staircase preceding her as they mounted step after step. Somehow she knew that she was being led to his quarters, and though she was willing, she felt as if she were entering a hunter's lair, a place where escape would be impossible. Yet why did she think of escape when she followed him freely and entered the room before him, halting just within the doorway, her eyes taking in the room as he entered and closed the door behind her.

Like the club, the room was dark. Natural light was blocked out by shutters and no direct beams of artificial light shone, save one which spotlighted a dark box, mounted upon a pedestal. Slowly she stepped forward and turned slowly looking round. All was black, save for white walls and a few white accents. The seemed a combination of a living room and bedroom with both bed and couch present. The whole effect was as of a room locked in time, somehow set apart from the present surroundings, even that of the club downstairs, given that there was absolute silence surrounding them.

"And here we are, my Natasha"

His possessive words made her pulses race, yet once again, she put her hand in his.

"Let me tell you of my life and what I am, for I want to share it with you.
I desire you, Natasha."

The directness of his words shocked her.

" ..wh-what are you ...?"

She questioned breathlessly, her eyes searching his, her eyes moving to take in his appearance truly for the first time.

" ... why ... ?"

The single word escaped her.
Why did he seek to share everything with her?
Why had he sought her out, or indeed why had she even come here this evening?
Why did she feel such strong emotions around him?
Why did she both desire and fear him?

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Benoît suddenly became selfconscious, of all things! There was no way he could utter the phrase "I am a vampire" without sounding cheesy. She'd laugh it off, the spell would be broken and he'd have to hurt her to get his way. The thought of that revolted him. The sharing of blood was the most intimate of acts, even more so than copulation. The idea of forcing it upon someone was tantamount to rape.

So he decided to show her. But first, a warning. "Do not fear me my dear Natasha, for I have no intention of harming you. With me, please. I need you to understand."

He showed her a picture of a famous movie starlet from the 1950's. She had led a tragic life despite her fame and she had died young. The picture was from the opening of a New York nightclub in 1955, long since closed. In the picture she wore her trademark smile under her blonde tresses and bright shiny eyes. Back and to the right of her stood Benoît.
"This, Natasha, is me in 1955."

Another picture. Benoît was clearly visible standing next to Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht. It was the party after their "Threepenny Opera" premiere, the date on the picture read 31 August, 1928. "Kurt, Bertolt and myself. When they made absinthe as it should be. Enjoyment without the hint of danger is not worth pursuing, was their motto. And some of this set lived up to it. The Weimar Republic was a thing of decadent beauty. And then that annoying little austrian with that tacky mustache... well, you know the rest of that unpleasant story, I'm sure."

He showed her a letter adressed to himself written by Richard Wagner who'd called him "his greatest and most terrible muse".

He steered her clear of the little wooden box, not certain she was ready for the truth about that just yet. He showed her several more of his keepsakes from his long and eventful life, going further and further back in time, each thing with its own story or anecdote directly involving Benoît. He looked at her.

Did she comprehend what he was and what he wanted to offer her?
He looked at her, a silent prayer in his heart.

Be mine, Natasha. Be mine forever.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"Do not fear me my dear Natasha, for I have no intention of harming you.
With me, please. I need you to understand."

She didn't understand and his words had not answered any of her questions.
She walked to him looking at the picture he showed her. She recognised the picture as being of an actress, long gone.

"This, Natasha, is me in 1955."

She looked at him, ready to laugh, but he was deadly serious.
She frowned, confused and looked at the next picture he showed her. This was dated, 31 August, 1928 and again Benoit seemed to be in the picture.

"Kurt, Bertolt and myself. When they made absinthe as it should be. Enjoyment without the hint of danger is not worth pursuing, was their motto. And some of this set lived up to it. The Weimar Republic was a thing of decadent beauty. And then that annoying little austrian with that tacky mustache... well, you know the rest of that unpleasant story, I'm sure."

He spoke as if he'd been there. But that was impossible.

More followed, a letter, an aged artefact, another photo, his name in an entry recorded way before he could even have been alive.

"It's ... impossible ... are you ... "

Her mind struggled for an explanation.

" ... some type of ... time traveller...?"

Was it that he wanted her to travel with him?

 

[Niceandbrutal]

"No my sweet Natasha, not a time traveller."
He had to smile at that. She was willing to believe an impossibility in physics, but not able to grasp what was right in front of her. Very well.

"I was turned by a noblewoman at Louis the 14th's court in Versailles. It was August, 1684, two years after the Sun King officially moved into the castle. She shared her blood with me and I drank of her as she drank of me. To seal the pact, we mated. I felt compelled to come to her, as I know you've had the compulsion to come to me this night.

My existence after they beheaded Madeleine in the Reign of Terror has been a hollow one. I traveled the earth, searching for something, I knew not what. I saw wars unfold and peter out on all continents. I found myself not wanting to have anything to do with such displays of barbarism, my training with my sword being something one demanded of french noblemen in the 17th century.

I sought to inspire and be inspired by the arts, the pinnacle in my opinion of human civilization. You've seen but a small collection of the famous persons I've met and inspired down the centuries.

My kind entered the arts with Byron and Polidori, and came to a fore with that irishman's novel about a transylvanian. There have been countless movies about us as well as plays, comics and TV-series."

He cringed inwardly as that most terribly clichéed of lines slipped past his lips.

"Yes Natasha. I am a vampire. And since Madeleine died until I met you, my life has been empty. Join me."

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"No my sweet Natasha, not a time traveller."

Still she was none the wiser.

"I was turned by a noblewoman at Louis the 14th's court in Versailles.
It was August, 1684, two years after the Sun King officially moved into the castle. She shared her blood with me and I drank of her as she drank of me."

Unconsciously Natasha shook her head as if to deny what he was telling her, unwilling to accept what deep down she knew was true.

"To seal the pact, we mated. I felt compelled to come to her, as I know you've had the compulsion to come to me this night."

The 'compulsion', those emotions that had no part in her reality had indeed drawn her here quite irrationally.

"My existence after they beheaded Madeleine in the Reign of Terror has been a hollow one. I traveled the earth, searching for something, I knew not what.
I saw wars unfold and peter out on all continents. I found myself not wanting to have anything to do with such displays of barbarism, my training with my sword being something one demanded of french noblemen in the 17th century."

There was something about him not only of another life, but another time.

"I sought to inspire and be inspired by the arts, the pinnacle in my opinion of human civilization. You've seen but a small collection of the famous persons I've met and inspired down the centuries.

My kind entered the arts with Byron and Polidori, and came to a fore with that irishman's novel about a transylvanian. There have been countless movies about us as well as plays, comics and TV-series."

She knew then, as she had known at the mention of blood what he claimed he was. Those media he mentioned were her only point of reference and it wasn't even a genre she had ever been interested in.

"Yes Natasha. I am a vampire."

She stood frozen as he made that simple statement.
A fact, not a claim, she knew instinctively.

"And since Madeleine died until I met you, my life has been empty.
Join me."

His words drew her and yet, how could she ... ?

"Benoit ... I ... "

Her eyes were wide, fearful as she struggled to understand, yet she took a step towards him and reached out a hand to touch his face and stroke his face. He seemed so ... human ... especially in this gothic setting. And he had lived throughout centuries. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to do so.

"I'm frightened."

She told him breathlessly, compelled to be honest with him.

"After so long ... how can I be the companion you seek?"

 

[Niceandbrutal]

He felt a pang of pity for her then. He remembered all too well when...
He felt obliged to tell her.

"I was afraid as well when I realised what Madeleine was about to do. Mortally so. She flirted with me and led me on a merry chase through the gardens of Versailles. Suddenly I got scared of her and tried to flee." He did not tell her about how her face and demeanor had changed, becoming a ravenous beast and pouncing on him, knocking him over.

"She caught up with me and bit into my artery. And she fed. She drank off me like a wanderer in a desert drinks of an oasis, like she'd never drunk blood before and never again would. Oh, but when she bit me and drank I felt more alive than ever as my life ebbed out of me. It was pain and extacy combined. And then she bade me drink of her. I refused, wanting only to lie down and go to sleep. But she managed, strong as she was, to hold on to me and latch me onto her neck. I drank and gained life eternal."

"As for the 'why' of The Calling, I do not know. It just is. I probably would have succumbed to it, but her hunger was feral and she couldn't wait."

He laughed, a short chuckling laugh. "Do you know, you're the first person I've told this."

Looking at her, he wondered if it had been a bad move.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"I was afraid as well when I realised what Madeleine was about to do..."

If he thought to put her at her ease, then he was mistaken.
She listened with increasing horror as he told of the way he had been pursued and fed from.
She had hoped somehow that the tales of fiction she was aware of were false.
He had spoken of art and music and higher things and now ... she could not tell if he too were feral and unable to wait.

"Do you know, you're the first person I've told this."

She paled, already backing slowly away from him,

"... is ... that because you're going to do ... that ... to me ... whether I want to or not...?"

She asked, the fear evident in her question.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Swifter and stronger than her, Benoît swerved around her and blocked the exit. He understood now how Madeleine had felt when he'd fled. He had been such a weakl- NO! He would not make the same mistake! Natasha had to want this, and he had scared her. He tried calming himself as he looked at her beautiful face, now filled with fear. His voice remained calm but there was a fire in his eyes.

"Please do not flee from me, Natasha. You feel the calling as well as I do. It is meant to be. I know this. Do not fight it. The Turning can be wonderful if you just give in and let me steer you safe."

He had never wanted anything stronger than have her as his partner. He longed for a companion more than anything in the world. She'd felt it, why couldn't she just give in? He pounded his fist against the wall, his visage becoming feral.
"Why do you resist me!?"

Eyes glowing red, he started toward Natasha, then checked himself. He slumped, realization hitting him like a slap. He was about to repeat Madeleine's mistake. Natasha had to be scared out of her mind and he was the cause of it. The thought wracked him as he stood there, indecisive.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

It seemed he would not let her go. Somehow he got behind her and blocked off her exit. He was still controlled, but that same anger she had seen on the dance floor was obvious in his eyes as he stood before her.

"Please do not flee from me, Natasha. You feel the calling as well as I do. It is meant to be. I know this. Do not fight it. The Turning can be wonderful if you just give in and let me steer you safe."

She had felt drawn to him, but now ... the prospect of being his victim had nothing to do with the partnership she had thought he had tempted her with.
She flinched visibly drawing further away from him, back into the room as his fist hit the wall.

"Why do you resist me!?"

She let out a half cry, half sob of fright and moved around the sofa putting it between them as he advanced upon her. If he was to force her, she would fight him all the way.

All of a sudden he stopped and seemed to change in demeanour as she watched him, tense and ready for flight.

"Benoit, please don't do this ... "

She pleaded with him.

" ... not like this ... "

She shook her head.
A 'turning' such as he had described sounded like a nightmare.

"You said you've searched for years ... why the rush ... why this minute?"

She didn't know if her words would anger him or if he could be persuaded to consider her feelings.

" ... You say this could be a wonderful experience. How would you know?
You were hunted, tricked. Is that what you want for me, for us?"

She stood fearful, but firm in her words.

" ... you can take me, you can control me, but I'll never be your partner if you force me like this ...
Even in your world surely a bond is so much firmer when a choice is freely made ... ?"

She took a hesitant step nearer to him.

"If this is for ever, then forever is a long time for regrets, Benoit ... "

 

[Niceandbrutal]

"...not like this."

The pleading in her voice checked him. She was obviously scared, but was there also a trace of disappointment?

"...why this minute?"

He'd been so eager for companionship that he'd walked right into the same mistake Madeleine did.

As he listened to her reasoning, his features again softened. She was right of course. Eternity was a long time for regrets, and he wanted to spend eternity with this woman. His longing soared again, this time tinged with sadness. He was trapped. If he forced himself on her, their life would be a sham. Benoît had used the better part of 20 years forgiving Madeleine as he looked from afar on his grieving family.

A sigh.

"You are right of course, sweet Natasha. I must apologise. I myself didn't forgive my sire for a long time, but I grew to like her nevertheless. Not that I had much choice in the matter. I was about to take that very same choice away from you and it grieves me that I came so close to doing Madeleine's mistake."

He approached her slowly, the burning no longer in his eyes, his fangs again retracted. He sat down on the couch she used to shield herself.

"If you wish to leave you are free to go. I do not wish to force upon you what I at the time resented having forced on me."

He looked at her as a new wave of longing and regret washed over him.

"But I do wish you'd stay, dear Natasha. We could travel the world together. We could hunt for our food and share tales of our conquests. We could inspire great minds like I have before. You see, the reason I came to forgive Madeleine was because I realised she'd bestowed a great gift upon me. It is a gift, Natasha. You will never die unless you yourself want to end it. But you will be dead to your family and friends. The choice is not an easy one.
I never got to make it and I watched my family grieve because of it. You have that choice now."

All fight had gone out of him. He slumped in his couch and closed his eyes, certain he'd hear her footsteps as she left him. He had but one comforting thought. In the end I proved to be a better person than Madeleine.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

She held her breath as her words hung in the air between them.

"You are right of course, sweet Natasha. I must apologise."

She exhaled slowly, listening as he continued.

"I myself didn't forgive my sire for a long time, but I grew to like her nevertheless. Not that I had much choice in the matter. I was about to take that very same choice away from you and it grieves me that I came so close to doing Madeleine's mistake."

He took several steps towards her, but Natasha managed to bravely stand her ground watching as his face became more human once more. She watched him sit upon the sofa, as if the fight had gone from him.

"If you wish to leave you are free to go.
I do not wish to force upon you what I at the time resented having forced on me."

She saw his expression as his eyes locked with hers. She felt his emotion, rather than just observing it.

"But I do wish you'd stay, dear Natasha. We could travel the world together.
We could hunt for our food and share tales of our conquests. We could inspire great minds like I have before. "

He painted a strange future, but one that tempted her nonetheless.

"You see, the reason I came to forgive Madeleine was because I realised she'd bestowed a great gift upon me. It is a gift, Natasha. You will never die unless you yourself want to end it. But you will be dead to your family and friends. The choice is not an easy one. "

Again something else she had not realised.

"I never got to make it and I watched my family grieve because of it.
You have that choice now."

He didn't try to persuade her further in words, or actions. For long moments she watched him as he sat, knowing that she should flee, that she should save her life, that she should return to the life she knew and its safe predictability.
Yet something prevented her from leaving...

Moments later, she eased onto the sofa beside him, still hesitant, still wary, but unable to leave him like this.

"What do you mean I'll be dead to my family. How ... how does it work?"

She asked.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

She didn't flee! Benoît's mind raced once more.
He needed to choose his words with care now, to control his expressions.
He'd scared her once. One more display like that and he sensed he'd lose her forever. He sighed.

"I'm speaking from experience, my sweet. I tried to resume a normal life with my family but they could not have me under their roof, knowing what I was, knowing what I had to do to survive. My mother especially took umbrage to my 'life of promiscuity' as she called it. My mother was a very religious woman, bless her shriveled soul. She could not tolerate that I drank blood to survive and then copulated with my victims so as not to kill them. To this day I'm not sure what bothered her the most, my drinking of blood or my lifesaving copulations."

With a hint of pride, he added: "In all my years as a vampire I have never killed anyone with a feeding."

"But do you really think your family and friends would accept what you would become? Not even in this day and age do I think that possible, especially now that the old superstitions again are gaining power over feeble minds."

"You must also know this: there are very few things that can kill us. Stake through our heart, but that would kill anyone. Same with decapitation. Fire of course." - He shuddered visibly at that, a memory haunting him - "The sun will deteriorate us over time, but we can spend a few hours in the sun if we so desire. I prefer to keep in the darkness as I have come to enjoy living through centuries, seeing what unfolds. I know of some that couldn't live without the sun. As time passed by, they shriveled into dust and died."

He looked at her again, directly into her eyes. "Knowing all that you know now, would you turn?"

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"I'm speaking from experience, my sweet. I tried to resume a normal life with my family but they could not have me under their roof, knowing what I was, knowing what I had to do to survive. My mother especially took umbrage to my 'life of promiscuity' as she called it. My mother was a very religious woman, bless her shriveled soul. She could not tolerate that I drank blood to survive and then copulated with my victims so as not to kill them. To this day I'm not sure what bothered her the most, my drinking of blood or my lifesaving copulations."
Natasha listened, considering what she would do in his place.

"In all my years as a vampire I have never killed anyone with a feeding."

The words were a relief. Having had sight of him in 'feral' form, she knew that he was more than capable of killing and reassured that he chose not to.

"But do you really think your family and friends would accept what you would become? Not even in this day and age do I think that possible, especially now that the old superstitions again are gaining power over feeble minds."

She laughed at his words. She doubted that her family would even notice.

"You must also know this: there are very few things that can kill us.
Stake through our heart, but that would kill anyone. Same with decapitation.
Fire of course ... The sun will deteriorate us over time, but we can spend a few hours in the sun if we so desire."

The reality it seemed was not too far removed from the stories.

"I prefer to keep in the darkness as I have come to enjoy living through centuries, seeing what unfolds. I know of some that couldn't live without the sun. As time passed by, they shriveled into dust and died."

Even as she sat and listened to him talk, she marvelled that she could do so as if this were just a normal conversation.

"Knowing all that you know now, would you turn?"

His eyes captured hers, his gaze direct, the question making her reflect and try to assess her own tumultuous emotions as she grew in comprehension of what he was and the 'life' he offered her.

"I don't know ... perhaps ... "

She told him.

"Are you able to feed from one you intend to turn, or is it an either/or situation?"

Her question in truth was, could he feed from her without killing her as a first step into his world?

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Are you able to feed from one you intend to turn, or is it an either/or situation?

Benoît's heart (such as it were) leaped. Not only did she not leave, she seemed to be willing to try.

"In truth, it can make the turning more dangerous. From a regular feeding I draw about a pint of blood. The victim I choose I will not touch again for at least a couple of weeks. Although truth be told, some of them are less worried about their safety than I am. If I fed from you now I would prefer to wait with the turning until at least a couple of weeks. Your body must build up again what it's lost."

He leaned back in the couch, tentatively placing and arm across her back but not holding her. He'd decided she would have the choice he never had and he stood by it. She should not in any way feel threatened by him. He'd done enough damage as it was.

"So what do you think, Natasha? Do you need time to mull it over? I'd understand if you do. The feeding itself is exquisite, I'm told. The turning is more intense, but ultimatelt more rewarding. As I haven't been used only as fodder myself, I have to go by the words of those I've fed off."

She had a lifechanging decision to make. He went silent to let her think.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"In truth, it can make the turning more dangerous. From a regular feeding I draw about a pint of blood. The victim I choose I will not touch again for at least a couple of weeks. Although truth be told, some of them are less worried about their safety than I am. If I fed from you now I would prefer to wait with the turning until at least a couple of weeks. Your body must build up again what it's lost."

She nodded, considering her options.

"So what do you think, Natasha? Do you need time to mull it over? I'd understand if you do. The feeding itself is exquisite, I'm told. The turning is more intense, but ultimatelt more rewarding. As I haven't been used only as fodder myself, I have to go by the words of those I've fed off."

She felt a frisson go through her at his words. She was fearful and yet there was something else there, something despite herself that drew her towards the forbidden experiences he described.

"Perhaps the question is, could you wait? Could you wait for two weeks without turning me? And once I've offered myself to you as ... fodder ... how do you know you won't drink me dry and turn me anyway....?"

She asked calmly.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

"I've waited centuries. What are two more weeks? As for me not killing you, the safest way to feed from you and keep you alive is to enter you right after I bite you. My fangs will retract as the skin slowly closes and they function as partial stoppers to the stream of blood. I drink what I can. Afterwards you will be dizzy and you will have a hangover the day after. Like you've been on a bender, no?"

His smile crept back into his voice and face.

"And do not fear me emptying you, my sweet. If I empty you without letting you drink of my blood, you will die. A corpse cannot drink. No, the blood must flow from you to me and me to you simultaneously, less the turning fail."

He was relieved they were having this conversation.

"It is good that you ask of these things, Natasha. It gives me the opportunity to let you have a real choice. I'd never thought of telling you these things, as they now are second nature to me, instinct. One does not ponder instinct unless one is forced to do so. For this, you have my most profound thanks."

A slight bow, an almost shy smile.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"I've waited centuries. What are two more weeks?"

Natasha smiled warmly at his words, instinctively trusting that he spoke the truth.

"As for me not killing you, the safest way to feed from you and keep you alive is to enter you right after I bite you."

She felt her body flush at the prospect of the 'coupling' he had spoken of which was necessary for him to feed without harming.

"My fangs will retract as the skin slowly closes and they function as partial stoppers to the stream of blood. I drink what I can. Afterwards you will be dizzy and you will have a hangover the day after. Like you've been on a bender, no?"

She chuckled. The irony was that she had had nothing alcoholic to drink that day!

"And do not fear me emptying you, my sweet. If I empty you without letting you drink of my blood, you will die. A corpse cannot drink. No, the blood must flow from you to me and me to you simultaneously, less the turning fail."

She understood now, more of the 'turning' that the horrific description he had given of his own experience.

"It is good that you ask of these things, Natasha. It gives me the opportunity to let you have a real choice. I'd never thought of telling you these things, as they now are second nature to me, instinct. One does not ponder instinct unless one is forced to do so. For this, you have my most profound thanks."

The mannerisms of the French courtier came through, one of the many facets of his nature that she found herself attracted to.

" ... it is I who should thank you, Benoit. For being patient with me, for giving me the choice I asked for."

She leaned forward and kissed his cool cheek shyly.

" ... two weeks would enable me to ... consider my options ... make arrangements ... and it will be good to make sure that you are certain Benoit."

The attraction between them was intense, primal somehow, but would it be sustained? Would it last throughout the years, the decades, the centuries?

"So many years, so many ladies ... before I give up everything, we must be sure this 'calling' is indeed what is meant to be and that no stronger call awaits us with other people... "

 

[Niceandbrutal]

He couldn't help but smile at her words. And then she kissed him!
His smile grew wider still. He was practically beaming.

"As I much too forcefully tried to convey, I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am now, dearest. But you shall have your two weeks to make up your mind and set your affairs in order."

He gently clasped her hand, ready to let go if she protested.

"As for the future, who can say? I cannot guarantee that you will not get a stronger calling, but as for me, I have waited more than three hundred years for this. My feelings for you are, I think, stronger than they were for Madeleine. This frightens me. What if you grow tired of me? What if you regret it if you turn? But let me assure you of this, Natasha: after Madeleine was killed I never felt love for anyone. I was once or twice" - a quick glance at the photo of the Hollywood starlet - "captivated by beauty, mistaking it for love. But love is more than an infatuation with looks. Love is a bond, a connection.
Love isn't assured even among mortals with the short lives they lead. And that, my dear, is the best answer I can give. There are no certainties, yet I've never been more certain in anything than this love I feel for you."

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"As I much too forcefully tried to convey, I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am now, dearest. But you shall have your two weeks to make up your mind and set your affairs in order."

She smiled as he took her hand, the relaxed intimacy between them enabling that attraction she felt for him to strengthen as she felt that primal pull towards him.

"As for the future, who can say? I cannot guarantee that you will not get a stronger calling, but as for me, I have waited more than three hundred years for this. My feelings for you are, I think, stronger than they were for Madeleine."

She was not jealous of the woman who had turned Benoit, but Natasha didn't like the sound of her, of what she had put Benoit through, at least in their early days. He had escaped her influence and in her company, surely he could be so much happier ... as would she ...

"This frightens me. What if you grow tired of me? What if you regret it if you turn? But let me assure you of this, Natasha: after Madeleine was killed I never felt love for anyone. I was once or twice" - captivated by beauty, mistaking it for love. But love is more than an infatuation with looks. Love is a bond, a connection."

She nodded. She had been attracted to guys in the past, but she had never been in love. She had seen what had happened to her parents' marriage and that had made her wary of relationships. To give up everything for a man, life itself for a dead man!? There was no logic in what she was considering doing!

"Love isn't assured even among mortals with the short lives they lead."

He continued, telling her what she already knew so well.

"And that, my dear, is the best answer I can give. There are no certainties, yet I've never been more certain in anything than this love I feel for you."

She smiled.

"That's answer enough. All I want from you is honesty, Benoit."

She searched his eyes.

"And you've been that from the start, brutally honest at times ... but, I wouldn't want you any other way ... "

She reassured him quickly.

"I would like to use some of those two weeks to get to know you though and for you to get to know me. After all, you know nothing of my past, my family ...
I've never been in love, never trusted a man or cared for one enough to give up anything for him. Believe me, if I do this Benoit, there will be no stronger calling for me, no regrets ... "

She moved closer, her body pressed against his now.

" ... to have a bond as you describe ... what wouldn't a girl give for that?"

She told him, realising that she was actually considering doing this, actually thinking through possible ways that she might step away from the life she was currently leading ...

 

[Niceandbrutal]

He was acutely aware of her being so close to him. He'd been close to many a woman during his life as a vampire. But never like this. Not even with Madeleine.

"I know only that my life will be emptier if you decide not to turn. Having known you only to lose you, that would be Hell. I would dearly love to know you better, and these two weeks are a good opportunity for this. You are indeed wise beyond your years Natasha. Your family and your past made you who you are today. No one is without flaw, and who would want to be flawless? Flaws and quirks, these are the spices of every personality, to distinguish one from the other. From the way you speak about the men in your life it sounds like you've been most unlucky. Never loved once? It's a sin. But every sin can be redeemed. And I very much want to be that redemption."

He turned toward her now, looking into her eyes.
Leaning towards her his lips parted slightly as for a tentative kiss.

He looked into her eyes again, an unformed question reflected in them.