[M] Light and Dark (Car'mael/TK)

[Tenel Ka]

Rated M for possible dark themes of death, sex, and profanity.

Victor splayed his long pale fingers over the dust coating the dark hard case. The trails left by his touch revealed the faded and peeling color of the case. He froze, his stillness entrancing as it was that of stone or of death. He remained that way for what seemed an unbearable amount of time, but for a being nearly two centuries old, moments and hours and days seemed like nothing at all.

When at last Victor moved it was to pull his hand away from the thick layer of dust and to lean down to blow a great puff of air over the case. His breath scattered much of the dust, leaving behind the peeling strips of the ancient case. It looked as though it might fall apart at the light touch. But Victor didn't seem concerned by such a thought. He nimbly pressed open the clasp and lifted the lid.

The violin that rested inside the velvet lining was in immaculate condition considering its age. The wood was smooth with intricate swirls of the color still visible. The neck and the ribs were darkened with use, and the tailpiece was inlaid with delicate whorls of mother of pearl.

Victor trailed his hands over the instrument like a pair of skittish spiders, and then with a suddenness and speed that betrayed his inhuman nature, he had pulled the bow from its place in the lid of the case and he was gently brushing the resin up and down it's length, lovingly coating the real horsehair with the fine sticky powder.

The violin came out next, and without ceremony or hesitation, he placed his father's instrument under his chin and drew the bow across the strings. The clear note emerged from the f holes and rose up into the empty apartment with the deep sound of aged wood. He skillfully tuned the old violin, and then began to play.

As the music rolled out from beneath his hands, his thoughts drifted to his family, but most of all his father. Despite his affinity for the instruments, his father had never learned to play. Victor closed his eyes and allowed the music to take over his memories. He played until his mind was blank, until he felt emptied of everything that had ever happened to him. As if all of the years of his unnaturally long life were being drained away with all of the terrible things that had happened, or that he had done with his own hands could disappear forever.

The music stopped in the middle of a note, and Victor abruptly put the violin away, quickly latching the case and pressing it out of view in the back of a closet, like all of his bad memories. As if that were possible. He popped his neck, first to one side, and then to the other before adjusting his jacket and leaving the apartment.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but his eyes flashed an unsettling color of red before returning to their natural dark hazel color. There would be blood tonight.

[Car'mael]

Jasper stretched and yawned, rising from the floor of the old abandoned church where he'd been meditating, wrapped in an old blanket. Several homeless people came here to sleep, most of them alcoholics and a few druggies and prostitutes, many people who fit more than one such category. He simply blended in with his worn oversized trench coat and scuffed half-boots, fingerless gloves and a faded scarf about his lower face and neck. Few here asked questions of strangers. He himself didn't ask much either, and didn't seek food or drugs or a warm body, so he confused them. He sat with a few of the older former veterans, letting them say what they wanted to say, gently coaxing a couple towards considering finding their families again, cleaning up their ways. Even those who didn't agree with him had noticed his own gentle and cheerful demeanor, and they enjoyed his occasional singing here at the old church... and in a sense he'd been adopted by their small homeless band.

PB, they called him. Short for "Pretty Boy" really. At the advice of a grizzled man of 53 called Bubba, he had started wrapping his face to avoid trouble. More than once Bubba had grabbed a cronie or two and they'd beaten the crap out of some pimp or stranger who'd started making a move to grab Jasper for a little involuntary recreation. Only his soft request and gentle touch usually restrained Bubba and others in the band from sending such an aggressor to an early grave.

The man in question was dusting off his jeans and wrapping up against the cool night air with an old plastic poncho in military colors. The massive African American man flashed Jasper a gap-toothed grin. "Heyah, PB. You comin' t git some grub at th' Cornerhouse?"

The Cornerhouse was a soup kitchen run by the Sisters of Mercy deeper in the city, always giving plain but filling fare, offering counseling and what help they could, manned by volunteers from a Lutheran Church next door. The band usually went there for dinner but Jasper always declined. He had no need to eat, and this was his chance to wander, looking for others to save. Unbeknownst to his protectors, at times he helped physically, for not all night predators that prowled these streets were human, and he was suited to handle such.

But a Seraph never killed. Not even demons.

"No, but thank you, Bubba. I will see you back here later, though," he answered, soft voice ringing musically in the acoustics of the old church. "I... have--"

"Things ya gotta deal with, yeah, yeah, I know," Bubba grumbled, wiping at his face with a big hand and fingering his moderate beard. "Ya never come. Must be your rich boyfriend again, eh? When're you gonna hook up with 'em an' leave us, huh? This ain't the pace for ya, kiddo. Yer too pretty to last out here. Someday yer gonna be puled off the street an' then that'll be it."

"I will be fine, Bubba," Jasper reassured with a confident smile.

"I'm serious," the gristled man growled, frowning. "Ya better find yerself that rich boyfriend soon, kiddo. It ain' safe fer yer kind out here. People don' like yer kind much."

"Because I befriend you? Or because the only advice I often have is to find peace with what you believe in and yourself?" Jasper laughed.

"No." Bubba made a face, then turned to start off, the others moving to follow him. "'Cause yer all gentle-like. You'll be eaten alive one day, kiddo-we can't be helpin' ya every time."

Watching them go, Jasper sighed sadly to himself. He couldn't admit to them that he was far more than he seemed, and not nearly as helpless as they thought--merely inclined to strongly avoid violence at almost an extreme. He'd had bad experiences before he knew them, injuries and tortures at the hands of people long dead now that left a lasting sadness and the occasional burst of fear in his heart. Yet this was what he was supposed to do--try and save souls, and the occasional body with it. His gut told him that. And Seraph did not get "gut feelings"--they got "orders", vague as they were.

Shaking out his blanket, he folded it neatly and set it aside. Then Jasper walks softly to the shattered door and wriggled through the debris there to the overgrown path leading through an abandoned lot and to the nearest road with its shabby houses and barking dogs behind chain fences. Today he would try seeing the central park. It had been a while since he'd last visited there, a few years really. Perhaps that feral orange cat was still there. In any case, that was where he felt inclined tonight. His tasks found him almost as often as he sought them out. The bigger problem as usually determining what he was supposed to do for them when he did find them!

[Tenel Ka]

The elevator was too slow, so Victor started down the stairs instead. He moved with unnatural speed and grace, pausing only when there was a chance that he would be seen. He had moved into the apartment less than a year ago. He liked it, and he wasn't prepared to blow his cover by losing control so close to home. He kept his bloodlust under just enough control that the smell and sound of humans rushing over his sense only made him feel drunk with need.

He stumbled down the flight of stairs, nearly crashing into the tottering old Mrs. Beverly on his way. He mumbled a cursory apology, and dashed past her, past the front desk, and through the front door of the building onto the street. He moved with perhaps a bit more speed than was prudent given that it was an hour of relatively high traffic. But he found that he did not care.

His eyes flashed dark red again, and he blinked the thirst quickly away again, shaking his head sharply in an attempt to clear it. He hunched his shoulders and began to run. He knew that he was running faster than he should by the startled looks of the people that he brushed by. It took all of his focus to keep from sprinting at his full speed, and so it was with surprise that he realized he had entered central park. He had been working so hard to keep his thirst and his speed in check, that he hadn't payed much attention to where he was going.

After passing a fair distance into the park, Victor finally began to slow. He eased to a walk just as he reached a large fountain sporting an angel raised high above the rest. He couldn't help the faint hiss that escaped him.

His eyes flashed red, but this time they remained the dark color. There, just on the other side of the fountain, stood a young man. His dyed black hair flopped into his eyes which were smudged with dark eyeliner. He wore trip pants and a faded band t-shirt. He rubbed his arms against the breeze and stared into the rippling water of the fountain.

Victor approached, the pulse of his hunger burned in his throat, but now he was calm. The young man was fair, despite his eyeliner and pierced lip. Victor swallowed, trying to wet his throat. He stepped silently up beside the young man, causing him to start with surprise.

Victor glanced around to make sure they were alone, and miraculously, he didn't see or smell another human anywhere nearby. "Hello," Victor said in a silky smooth voice, "Come here..." Despite himself, the young man seemed drawn in by the voice, "Can you help me?" he asked, and Victor smiled, "Of course, my child." He took the young man in his arms, holding him close. His fangs slowly grew in his mouth and he carefully flicked his tongue over their sharp points.

[Car'mael]

Jasper entered the park at a casual walk, enjoying the brightness of the moon this evening. Most people had left it, knowing better than to be in a deserted area after dark in any city. Well, except if you sought drugs, sex, or danger. He could smell a faint whiff of marijuana on the soft breeze, hear some distant laughter, his empathy picking up embarrassing feelings of lust from another direction. Turning, he headed down a different path instead. Of all things he struggled with, it was dealing with sexual predators. Some of them took a turn for violence, and his own kindness was, at times, used by such to catch him at a disadvantage.

After a time, he found a park bench with an old man siting on it, the fellow's ragged clothes indicating he was another transient. Sitting beside the fellow, Jasper sang softy to the night, just a casual and popular song from the radio that didn't take much talent or effort on his part to . He felt eyed shift his way, a smile of appreciation beside him on the bench. It was a way to break the ice, turn to a conversation about what life held for this stranger.

"You sing pretty good," the hobo murmured. "Where'd you learn to sing like that?"

"You could say it is my primary income," Jasper admitted with a cheerful smile.

"You're a bar-singer? Or on the streets?" the man asked gruffly. "You're a pot-head, though, aren't you."

"No... just not.... suited for the big life," the Seraph returned hesitantly, shrugging. "You are new around here, though--I know most of the others pretty well."

The hobo shrugged and took a swing from a bottle of cheap tequila. "Passing through." He paused as the alcohol did its work swiftly, making his eyes almost cross. He sighed. "Know where to go for some grub?"

"There's the Cornerhouse on Lake and Country," Jasper said. "That is the nearest kitchen."

"How come you aren't there?" The man eyed Jasper sidelong.

"How come you are not going there as we speak?" the Seraph countered with a soft laugh.

The hobo snorted and took another drink. "Tomorrow, maybe," he muttered. "Not hungry yet."

"And if tomorrow never comes?" Jasper asked gently, quietly. "A few new friends might be good. This isn't the nicest place, but there people try to help--and mean it."

Bloodshot eyes shot him a cautious look. "Tomorrow... maybe."

Smiling, Jasper slid to his feet and waved a hand. "I'll see you around, then."

A noncommittal grunt followed him as he headed down the path again.

[Tenel Ka]

Victor could feel the young man trembling in his arms. He seemed distraught, but he didn't struggle. His entire body was tense against Victor's hold on him, and his sudden fear was potent in the vampire's nostrils, only serving to strengthen his thirst.

When the young man spoke in a desperate and frightened tone, the pale blue veins of his neck throbbed with his lifeblood, and the rushing sound of the blood filled Victor's ears so that he couldn't make out the words that the young man was saying.

Victor placed a hand gently around the back his neck, cradling his head as he lifted the young man's chin forcing him to expose his throat. He caressed the delicate skin with his tongue, savoring the faintly salty taste before he abruptly buried his fangs into the young man's neck.

The rush of the hot blood flowing down his throat was so potent that he was momentarily dizzy with the effects of it. He began to pull the blood faster and it filled his senses to the exclusion of any of his surroundings.

It didn’t even matter anymore that he was standing right out in the middle of the plaza where anyone could come upon them without him noticing. His cover, his disguise as a human could be blown because of such carelessness, but Victor just didn’t care he was so caught up in the thrill of the kill and the fresh blood. Slowly the young man in his arms began to go limp.

[Car'mael]

The air near Victor grew heavy and threatening, the shadows seeming to watch with eager and angry intensity as he fed. Something in the darkness scented blood and growled. It circled the vampire and his prey slowly, heavily, eager to attack yet uncertain considering the vampire's age. This watcher was intelligent enough to be wary.

To attack a vampire while it was feeding was to court a full-out battle. To attack one in a feeding frenzy was asking to die. A starving vampire often did not hesitate to go to any lengths to kill, some even suicidal, when so desperate to feed.

The other predator moved on silently, reluctantly, leaving an earthy, sickly-sweet smell behind...

***

Before Jasper got far, he heard a shout and a growl behind where he had just been talking to the hobo... and felt the mental presence of a dark inhuman predator, felt its hunger and anger glowing in the night. Immediately, the Seraph whirled and ran back as fast as he could, only to skid to a halt as he saw a large thick-skinned hairless bipedal creature with huge jaws and claws fling the hobo onto the grass, a shattered bottle and a puddle of tequila all around the beast, shards and droplets glistening on its head.

A night-golem. Something brought from darker planes of existence through rituals and either freed to cause mayhem by sadistic people or set to some diabolical task by whoever performed those rituals to get it. Such rites required bloody sacrifice, and these things lived off hunting and carnage, so sometimes they were "loosed" to feed themselves and spare their master expense and difficulty. Fire, silver, holy items, and severe enough wounds destroyed them, but they were thick of hide and strong, oddly quick for creatures 8 feet tall and built like a truck.

The hobo was hurt--Jasper could sense the mans pain and terror--so he immediately rushed the beast, not having time to take a deep breath to sing. It was about to strike again! The angel leapt forward, drawing his purifying energy to his hand strongly enough that his fingers glowed with the intensity of a flashlight beam in the night.

It whirled just as he reached it, his hand extended to touch, that power enough to cause the night-golem severe burns on contact. And it backhanded him with enough force to throw him into the park bench! His touch made it cry out just before Jasper hit the wood and metal of the bench, shattering it with the force of impact. Luckily his feathers were strong and soft enough to spare his wings and back from shattering, but he ended up rolling to his belly, coughing on the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, right side aching from broken ribs.

The golem stomped closer, intent on finishing off this threat to its meal, growling.

Knowing he was in danger, Jasper struggled up to hands and knees and shook his head, long golden hair falling into his eyes blindingly as he tried to get his bearings again. He lunged out of the way just as a heavy foot swung a him, barely escaping something that would have smashed half his ribs and sent him as far as the treeline. Getting to one knee, he swung around and lashed out with his tail in return, and swept the monster's feet out from under it.

It tumbled heavily with a snarl of rage. Still, the move bought the Seraph time to clamber back to shaky feet while it struggled to get up again as well. Coughing, he fumbled with his coat, trying to reach the sword hidden underneath with his wings, but before he could grasp it, the beast was after him again. Staggering back, he slapped at those incoming heavy swings with gleaming hands, making it snarl and snap in anger as he left painful burns on those reaching claws. But he was on the defensive, and at a disadvantage, retreating--and there was only so far he'd be able to go like this.

Jasper didn't have time to glance at the hobo. He had his hands full staying alive himself, but he prayed the human had fled as fast as he could go. And he prayed he might be able to escape this conflict without too severe injuries himself, because it wasn't looking good right now--his lungs burned with the pain of breathing with broken ribs, and he couldn't sing like this, and the night-golem was hurt but not yet hindered by its own injuries.

[Tenel Ka]

The thick scent of the dying man's blood still filled his pallet and his nostrils, so at first Victor didn't notice the presence of the other predator of the night. He was too engulfed in the instinctive joy of holding a life in your hands and swiftly slicing the fragile thread that held humans to their lives.

He released his embedded fangs, still cradling the man in his arms, just in time to watch as the life fled the his eyes like some small skittish animal. A small trickle of blood still pulsed from the wound in his neck as his heart pumped feebly in his chest, not yet convinced of its own death yet.

The last breath of air slipped from his lungs, and Victor released his hold on him so that the now lifeless body crumpled to the ground. He lay slung over the edge of the fountain, one arm and the tips of his long dark hair trailing in the rippling water of the fountain.

Victor stood for a moment, chest still heaving from the exertion of the frenzy. His eyes flickered back to their natural color and he took a deep breath to calm himself. The warm flush of the fresh blood glowed just beneath his skin, leaving his cheeks and rosy color of life. He took another deep breath, and the smell of blood had cleared enough for the stench of the night-golem to invade his nostrils, and his eyes flickered red once again.

He hissed and automatically crouched slightly into a defensive position. He turned slowly around, scanning the darkness for the beast. It was just the sort of creature that it was his job to destroy.

A creature that killed indiscriminately such as a night-golem was wont to was a danger to the security of the vampires. If the humans discovered the existence of that filthy creature, it wouldn't be long before they began questioning the rest of their myths for nuggets of truth.

Victor pulled out his phone and sent a quick text for a cleanup crew to take care of the young man's body, then he turned and took another deep breath of the golem's stench. He stalked the creature, and it wasn't very long before he came upon the sounds of the battle. He grimaced and crept forwards.

It wasn't until he drew close enough that he realized what was fighting the golem. He hissed. An angel. He was tempted to let the fight play out to see who would be the winner, but the cleanup crew would arrive soon, and they wouldn't appreciate an even larger mess than what was already at hand for them to clear.

So he sprinted at the beast and leapt up onto its back with inhuman agility and speed. Once lodged there, he didn't wait for it to react before he began to rip at the back of the thick hide of its neck with his sharp teeth, working to slice through the skin and remove the thing's head.

[Car'mael]

Jasper had been forced to reveal his wings, drawing them forth through the side-slits in his long coat to use them to block flashing claws and punch back at the night-golem. Yet his wing-strikes were not enough to even rock the beast back, as it outweighed him by far and was the stronger, a tough creature to face. It forced him to keep retreating, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he fought to defend himself and evade further injury.

He glanced up and to the side on feeling another dark presence nearby, dismayed at the very idea of having to face more than just this thing. He was barely holding his own, if that--another opponent would tip the fight fully in the golem's favor. That distraction was enough that a slash got too close, skipping off a wing to glance along ribs, leaving furrows in his flesh there that immediately began to stain his clothes silver with his blood. Jasper staggered back to his knees, raising a wing defensively overhead, knowing more was to follow with him in this weakened state.

The night-golem howled as the new presence leapt on its back and began tearing at the back of its neck with vicious speed and strength. Thick skin tore like paper and whole strips of flesh were peeled aside easily by powerful fangs and inhuman speed. It staggered, bending over and trying to reach up with clawed hands to wrench this new attacker off, intending to tear off limbs in the process.

Peeking out from under the shield of his wing, Jasper spied a vampire on the monster's back, tearing at it with teeth. Now was a chance to banish the monster from this world. Yet he didn't dare use his sword, lest he hit the vampire. Instead, he took the chance to try tripping the monster with his tail, lashing out again with that feathered appendage.

The golem hit the ground on its knees, still trying to reach the vampire desperately. It was afraid, and rightfully so. If it didn't get the vampire off, it would soon have its head easily torn from its neck.

Jasper, meanwhile, lunged to try and reach a hand for the beast. If e could get a good touch to the thing's main body, he could shove his purifying power into it and eradicate it from this plane without harming the vampire. But he had to make sure he didn't touch the vampire by accident with it--and he had to get past those claws first!

[Tenel Ka]

Victor spit out strips of the golem's skin with a hiss of distaste. The lingering sweetness of the young man's blood was swiftly being eradicated by the foul tasting blood of the creature. He would never drink the blood of this creature if he had the choice. The animalistic side of his vampire instincts growled with displeasure, and he reflexively dodged the beast's first few clumsy attempts to unseat him. It's long claws slashed just past his head, but it didn't draw close enough to harm him.

"Filthy creature," he muttered, through a mouthful of black blood that began to drip down his pale chin. The fresh blood of his recent feeding still sang through him, and his success at avoiding the deadly claws increased his confidence in his own strength and ability, and he grew swiftly cockier with every dodge. This beast didn't stand a chance against a vampire nearly two centuries old. Victor smiled a grisly black smile with the knowledge that he could vanquish the thing with little effort, and plenty of pleasure.

He relinquished his hands from their firm hold on the creature's back and latched them onto its head, one on each side. He was just about twitch his wrists and wrench the golem's head from its shoulders when the beast fell to its knees and Victor subsequently began to lose his grip. Before he could catch himself, he tumbled off the creature's back, forward over its lowered head.

A small cry of surprise escaped his lips as he flipped and tried to catch himself and control the fall before the golem could gain an advantage over him. He had all but forgotten the presence of the Seraph, especially when the golem's still flailing claws managed to catch him at the shoulder and rip through his clothes and all the way down the skin of his back.

The creature bugled a cry of triumph and attempted to reclaim its feet.

[Car'mael]

The Seraph lurched aside so as not to be in the way as the vampire lost his grip and tumbled over the beast's head. "Sorry!" he apologized, realizing it was his own fault for tripping the monster up.

Heavens, he had not intended to cause the other difficulty in taking the night-golem down! Jasper winced mentally as he saw the monster land talons on the vampire's exposed back, tearing into flesh happily, guilt flooding his veins as he sensed the beast's triumph and the vampire's pain and surprise. He had intended to be of help, not harm in tripping the beast. Even of the hope it might let them be rid of the creature the sooner, preferably banished rather than slain. That this vampire was kind enough to help him in this fight, yet he himself had only hindered those efforts, it made Jasper feel like a fool and betrayer of that aid.

As the night-golem lurched to its feet, he saw an opportunity, however. Leaping over the injured vampire, Jasper dove between those clawed arms like a football player going for a block--head ducked and right shoulder leading, the wing raised to guard that shoulder as he passed sharp talons. His left hand was drawn back, charged with all the Purifying energy he could muster, ready to try banishing the beast with. The football move might rock the creature back on its heels at best, as he hadn't enough weight or momentum to accomplish more with such an attack. But stunning it that brief instant, knocking it off balance, could give him the chance to wield that Purifying power and possibly end this... if he had enough to finish the injured monster. But with the vampire now hurt, Jasper had to try, at least!

The attack did knock it back some, and the power blast sent it staggering back further, weakened. However, Jasper's effort wasn't enough in his own weakened state. His Purifying power was drawn from his own life-force, and being injured had lessened it significantly--using it thus left him about to tumble to his knees. Drooping, the night-golem grabbed the angel by his right wing and wrenched him forward and off-balance, within reach of the other sharp talon, ready to maim him so it could focus attention on finishing the vampire off.