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Cold Comfort by Black Raven

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Story Notes:

This story is very dark and contains descriptions of torture and gore. Read at your own risk. Also has character death.

 I have edited and added on to this story slightly. I haven't been feeling well which is why I've been adding to it in bits and pieces over the past week or so. It's finished, unless I spot anything else that needs to be added or changed.

Sharp pain stabbed through his chest. Where was he? He panicked as he reached for the mental bond that tied he and his brothers together. They were not there. The bond was severed. There was only one reason.... It came crashing back to him as he struggled to sit up. The Emersons, Marko, the grief that caused them to attack without thought. He cried out. He was alone. The others were dead. Why was he not? He looked around and through his tears saw that he was in a shallow pit. He recognized the area as the horse pastures outside of Emerson's house. He felt dawn approach. They had intended to let the sun finish him off. He touched his chest and the new scar there. They had failed. They would not be given a second chance. He fought to stand, stumbling with unconstrained horror over the bodies of his brothers. Even Marko was there. They must have gone back to the cave-. He took to the air and flew as fast as he could from the gruesome spectacle.

A shadow sneaked up on the colorfully dressed figure dancing down the hallway. It was out for blood as he swiftly closed the distance and jerked the figure around to face him. David lunged at Sam with a snarl. He killed Dwayne. David would kill him. Sam screamed in terror at the vice like grip slowly cutting off his air supply. His fingers clawed frantically at David's wrist but he would not be deterred. Sam's struggles weakened with ever second of stolen breath. David took great pleasure in slowly tightening his fist until he felt the flimsy bone and cartilage snap. Sam went limp. Such an easy kill. It was disappointing.

David closed his eyes and drew in a long sigh. A shiver of pleasure ran through him as he felt Sam's soul escape his broken body. It was always a special event when it was the death of an enemy. He did not know Sam past that he had helped murder David's brothers. That was enough. He lamented not being able to torture him first. He had other more important adversaries to face. Michael was next. Star's corpse was already decomposing at the bottom of the cliffs. She deserved no better for her treachery. The Frogs likewise hung from th rafters of their shop by their own intestines.

He found Michael upstairs with Laddie. They both had headphones covering their ears. No wonder they did not hear Sam's screams. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of Laddie. The child reminded him of Paul and Dwayne. Laddie was brought into the pack solely to lure people to them for food and entertainment. Eventually they all had started thinking of him as pack. Michael saw him first and David relished the look of shock and the scent of fear that immediately permeated the room. He did not give the boy a chance to catch his bearings.

David flew into the room with the fury of a thousand storms, ramming into Michael and sending him sprawling back into the wall. His head connected with the wall sharply and immediately David could smell the blood. His grin was feral as he planted his boots on the floor and stalked forward. Michael bested him before because David underestimated the strength of a half vampire. Michael was human now.

Seeing that Michael would not be getting back up so soon, David turned his attention to the crying huddled figure in the corner of the room. He stepped lightly and crouched down in front of the little boy. His eyes were sad as Laddie launched himself at David and clung to him, shaking uncontrollably. He sat back on his heels and ran his hands down the boy's back soothingly. He could sense that Laddie was still fully connected to him as pack. It was the price of sharing blood with one so young. The connection, once made, was there to stay, unlike with teens or adults.

He nearly lost composure at the thought of what he would have to do. He and Laddie were still connected. He could not subject the child to the pain and grief of having the connection broken. David knew what he had to do. However he hesitated, hand lightly stroking Laddie's hair as the boy cried into his shoulder.

"Laddie. Laddie, look at me."

His voice was gentle and soothing, caring. Nothing like his normal tone. He was not sure whether to be relieved or pained that Laddie complied without question or pause. He gazed into those wide, teary eyes filled with love and loyalty and felt his unbeating heart shatter. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. He tried to imagine those eyes, grief stricken and oh so old. No doubt Laddie would go insane from the backlash..... It was like a wave of ice coursed through him, hardening him to his human-like emotions. The hand carding through Laddie's hair stilled.

"Close your eyes."

He could not bear to do this with those eyes so trusting gazing at him so. He swallowed hard as he dropped his hand to rest on the boy's neck and brought his other up to grip his shoulder in a type of hug. It was a simple matter to snap the seven year old's neck. Painless. Quick. He clenched his eyes shut and held Laddie's body, keeping it from falling to the floor. He sternly told himself that Laddie was just another human. He did not believe himself. Slowly he let Laddie slide to the floor, taking a moment to be sure he was not laid awkwardly.

He stood and glanced at Michael. As expected the look of horror at witnessing what David had done was very rewarding. It even distracted David from his own mounting grief. It gave him a purpose. He would make Michael suffer.

He stalked forward and grabbed the front of Michael's shirt, hauling him up forcefully as the teen fought to get away. He was not bothered by the sound of ripping fabric. Michael let out a sharp cry as David raked his claws down his face and threw him to the bed. David did not have rope, but a pair of cuffs from that one security guard would do. He straddled the human and easily grabbed his wrists and forced them together. He held them with one hand as he threaded the cuffs through the headboard and snapped the ends around Michael's wrists.

He stayed straddling Michael for a few moments, reveling in the fear pouring off the human in waves. This would be fun. He did not bother gagging Michael as he climbed swiftly to his feet and wandered over almost absently and shut the door. He then turned out the light. The glow of a small night lamp near the door was the only thing to see by. David's eyes shined red as he peered at Michael from the shadows. He paced around Laddie's cooling body and smirked at Michael, expression ripe with the promise of pain.

He wasted no time as he snapped his hand out inhumanly fast and raked extended claws down Michael's chest, ripping the shirt away and leaving deep scratches in the flesh. The human cried out and strained against the cuffs. David brought his hand to his mouth and licked the blood from his nails. He spat it back out at Michael. The filthy traitor was too foul to drink from. He sat at the edge of the bed casually, face set as if this were a friendly Saturday get together among close friends.

Michael shrank away as David leaned their faces close together. He did not speak as he turned his face and sank his fangs into the side of Michael's jaw. His fangs did not sink in deep due to hitting bone, but it produced a satisfying scream. David laughed. He wasted little time with the preliminaries, wanting to kill Michael and be done with it, but wanting him to suffer first as well. He brought out a butterfly knife that belonged to Paul and traced it tenderly over the unmarred skin of Michael's stomach. He carelessly let the tip sink in to the soft flesh and continued dragging it over Michael's torso. It dug in deep in some places, light in others, all accompanied by cries of pain and begs for mercy. David thoroughly enjoyed himself.

He soon put the blade aside and eyed his handy work critically. The traitor's skin was a patchwork of patterns and lines without meaning. Blood pooled and beaded down Michael's heaving sides, making it all look so much worse. David planned on doing much worse.

Through out the entire process the vampire had kept his fangs dropped and claws extended, and not truly being able to force them away. He extended his index finger and brutally dug the talon into one of the shallow cuts, twisting it around and watching with glee as Michael bucked up and attempted to twist away from the source of his agony. All he succeeded in doing was making the cuffs close tighter and break the skin on his wrists.

David slowly crooked his finger and prised up a small rectangular flap of skin. He stripped it up, feeling pleased as he neatly ripped the end and held the small strip up for Michael to see. The boy was white and trembling violently. His eyes were wide and dilated and each pain filled gasp and whimper was like music to David's ears. He was disappointed that Michael had gone into shock so quickly. However he grinned, a sadistic gleam in his eyes as he slowly lowered the strip of flesh to Michael's lips.


The sun peaked through the light morning mist, highlighting the atrocities that had occurred in the dead of night. It threw into stark relief that which was still taking place.

The Emerson house on the outside appeared normal, save the mauled carcass of a dog in the horse pasture; inside was an entirely different matter. The corpse of an old man, impaled on a pair of antlers in his own hobby room. The kitchen, where a woman was pinned to the ceiling with kitchen knives and a single wooden stake through the heart keeping her up. The hallway, where poor Sam lay, slumped against a wall, the only telling tale of his death being the unnaturally loll of his head.

Upstairs in the bedroom was a scene of great carnage and gore. Blood spattered on nearly every surface. The only place truly untouched by it being a circle of floor in the middle of which was the corpse of a young boy. The bed was the worst. On it was a mass of twisted flesh and sharded bone. It was completely devoid of skin, which seemed to have been stripped off piece by piece. Even some bits of scalp and hair had been removed. Along with all of the corpse's teeth.

David was covered in blood as if he had bathed in it, as he stepped from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He made his way down the stairs, avoiding the patches of light that filtered through various windows. He came to a halt on the front porch, just out of reach of the sun's rays. He drew in a deep breath, feeling both pleased and dissatisfied with what he had just done. It made no difference. His family was still dead. Though some part of him was sated at having his revenge, it was a cold comfort. He knew what he needed to do. What he was planning on doing the second he realized all of his family was dead.

He let out another quiet sigh and stepped off the porch and into the light. Hopefully Hell would let the four room together.
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