Friday May 23rd, 2008

Lycan Sanctuary

TO

2 AM

The scratching of blunt claws echoed down a dark alley way leading to a heavy metal door. Three people sat inside a dim hideout through that door; they sat tensely waiting to see what the sound would bring. Snuffling at the door and then a soft click as it swung open. The trio swung their heads to the large four-legged silhouette framed in the doorway.

“Patrick?”

The Were stepped into the dimly lit room and shook his fur out, his golden eyes holding a haunted light. One of the people already there, straightened, large body held stiffly.

Pat turned toward him flagging his tail and growling low. Father...

Alpha sighed wearily. “Something’s happened hasn’t it?”

Pat nodded his head slowly ears flattening back slightly. Pierre...attacked another woman...

“Damn...” The elder Were glanced at the other two occupants, just as a soft gasp left one of them, a woman who sat furthest from the door. “Serena?”

Sherry moved into the glow of the single lamp, her brown eyes filled with anxiety. Alpha looked at her his expression grave. She clutched at the skirt she was wearing. Luna, who was the third person in the room lounging on an old mattress, had given the other vampire the skirt.

“Serena,” Alpha repeated gently.

Sherry swallowed hard.

“I...have no idea what would be causing this...”

Pat snarled.

The woman was a virgin... He pawed at the floor. But, that’s not the main problem...the main problem is that now two women have died in the space of a night...

Sherry shook her head. “It’ll end up on the news...won’t it?”

“The fact that two women were murdered in exactly the same way. Yes. But...the humans won’t suspect vampires.” Alpha sighed and looked back to his son. “What will you do?”

Pat sat back on his haunches, fur bristling. I’m not sure. I’ll have to talk to Pierre. He turned his nose toward Sherry. And, you have to meet with him. But...I think Johnny wants to organise that.

The vampire lying on the mattress sat up, eyes widening slightly. “Johnny is here in TO?”

Alpha frowned sharply at Luna.

She lifted a lip, fang showing, and brushing long mahogany hair from her face. “Answer the question.”

“Yes. He is. But, so is your brother. So, your son is off limits to you.”

Luna sighed and looked away. Sherry cast an empathetic glance toward the other woman. She understood how that felt, at least a little. Then she turned her attention back to Pat. The Were was scratching at his neck with his back paw, rumbling in his throat.

“Pat?”

He swung his head toward her and gazed out at her with warm golden eyes. Yes?

“I...will meet with him.”

Pat cocked his head. Well and good. He stood. I have to get back to the bus before dawn. He looked to Alpha. Look out for trouble. And, I’ll send our Brother back to the clan on my way out.

The Brother was Pat’s partner in crime in Toronto. The older Werewolf was one of the many Brothers’ who called the Canadian city home. The two of them worked together well as a unit and the previous night had been one of those times when they were able to remain concealed regardless of the scene they had witnessed.

Pat shuddered at the memory; it had shaken him to the core of his being. Even the Brother had been suitably disturbed. Pierre Bouvier was not an enlightened member of the vampire species that was certain. His vampire side had found its niche, its place in the world. Though, what alarmed Pat the most was that it had not taken long for Pierre’s true colours to be revealed.

It was not even a month since Pierre had turned and he was already showing signs that only mature vampires exhibited. Of course, the fact that he was Shadows’ son may have something to do with the rapid rate of maturity. Still, it was unsettling and it made for a very dangerous situation.

Add to that the fact that he had attacked two virgin women...it was not a good sign at all. Pat growled and glanced around the three faces.

Alpha scratched at his jaw. “Before you leave, son. I have a question.”

Pat wagged his tail. Yeah?

“Does Pierre know that you know about the first woman?”

No. And...well, I didn’t see that one happen. I smelt it on him. And I saw the images in his mind...

Alpha nodded. “Right. Well, you’d better go.”

Pat rumbled low in his throat then swung around and headed back out into the alley way, the heavy door sealing them from his view. Then after glancing up and down the alley he vanished from it without a sound.

Simple Plan Tour Bus

3 AM

Chuck lay flat on his back in his bunk staring up at the tattered ceiling above him. His bed was furthest away from everyone else because he was more comfortable that way. He was able to sleep better. However, he also had a good vantage point to his oldest friend’s bunk.

Pierre’s bunk was on the opposite side close to the back. The larger male was lying on his side facing the aisle dark eyelashes resting lightly against his rounded cheeks. He was fast asleep as were the rest of the guys, except Chuck obviously.

The drummer shifted on his side and frowned faintly whilst staring at Pierre’s peacefully slumbering form. Chuck was still wondering at what he had seen the night before. He could have sworn that the singer had just vanished into thin air directly in front of him.

The rational part of his mind was telling him that was impossible that the crowd must have surged around his friend and that the lights from the stage had been playing tricks on his eyes.

However, another more quizzical part of his brain was whispering strange thoughts to him; thoughts he never believed could be possible, thoughts of strange and different beings, of creatures with supernatural powers, of creatures that should only exist in stories.

He laughed silently to himself. It was absolutely ludicrous of course. There were no such things as - actually he wasn’t sure what he thought there wasn’t supposed to be. It was all too confusing.

Rolling onto his back, Chuck heaved a deep sigh then frowned as he heard footsteps coming down the aisle. He leaned back over and blinked slowly. Pat was creeping along the aisle as silently as possible, obviously not wanting to draw any attention.

Chuck frowned and debated whether he should call out to him. Then he decided it would be better not to. That way he could figure out what the hell the other man was up to. Pat had been acting a little mysterious of late, disappearing at the most inopportune of times and making excuses such as he needed to organise shit for Role Model or Man of the Hour. The rest of the band bought these little lies but Chuck wasn’t so easily fooled.

He watched as Pat paused by Pierre’s bunk and stood gazing at the singer with a slight scowl on his face. Chuck observed as lines appeared on either side of Pat’s nostrils and the bridge of his nose wrinkled. Then Pat shook his head slightly and wandered to the empty bunk at the opposite end, clambering in and tweaking shut the curtain that hung in front.

The drummer pondered what had just happened, mind swirling rapidly over the thoughts that were accumulating in his mind. Eventually though exhaustion caught up with him and he slipped into a dreamless sleep, and did not wake until well into the morning.

10:30 AM

“Goddamn it, Pierre!”

Chuck woke to the sound of Pat yelling at the singer, voice strained as tight as was humanly possible. He poked his head out of his bunk, noting vaguely that Jeff, Seb and David were all doing exactly the same thing as he was: hanging out of their bunks watching the scene unfolding in the aisle.

Pierre was standing directly outside of his bunk arms folded tightly across his chest, head down, chin tucked into his chest. He was wearing his old OSAKA hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head. Patrick was standing in front of him poking a finger forcefully into the air inches away from the singer’s concealed face. The tension in the air was palpable, a living thing that Chuck felt he could reach out and actually grab a hold of. He shivered and pulled his sheets around his legs watching on warily.

“You’re unbelievable!” Pat ground out, tersely. “Fucking unbelievable! I can’t believe you would fucking do that!”

Pierre flicked his eyes up to meet Pat’s briefly, then averted his gaze mumbling harshly. “I did nothing, Patrick. You should just shut up.”

“Damn it, Pierre. You’re a god damned singer in a fucking band...we don’t need publicity like this.”

Pierre sneered. “Oh, right. What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Pat. Fuck.” He waved a hand around the bus. “They don’t even know what the fuck is going on. So why would the fucking public?”

Pat groaned. “It’ll be all over the news, Pierre.”

Pierre snorted. “What the fuck do you know?” His eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as his fangs punched out into his mouth. He could feel them beginning to elongate and he pressed his lips together tightly to prevent the tips from showing.

Pat saw the singer’s eyes reddening and stepped closer, growling low. You cannot lose control now, Pierre...

Pierre stepped back, grabbing hold of the edge of his bunk, squeezing tightly allowing the wood to dig into his palm, hoping that the sudden pain would distract him. How the fuck do you know what I’ve done, anyway, wolf... There was a distinct snarl to the vampire’s tone. What the hell do you know?

Pat shuddered but held firm. “What do I know?” He snapped out loud. “I know enough.”

Chuck cleared his throat then swinging out of his bunk. As much as he wanted to know what the hell his friends’ were going on about, he had just realised what time it was and that the band had commitments for the day.

Pierre and Pat jerked their heads around and stared at the drummer fixedly.

“What?” The singer was the first to speak.

Chuck shook his head. “Y’know...as amusing as you two bitching at each other is...we have to be at an interview in half an hour.”

Pierre grumbled and turned his back on both the drummer and Patrick, rummaging through the junk on his bunk. Pat sighed, nodded to Chuck and walked down the aisle and disappeared into the tiny toilet.

The others climbed out of their bunks and set about getting ready, all the while casting furtive, and confused, glances toward Pierre as the singer stomped around the bus, obviously in a foul mood.

Ten minutes later all six men were sitting in a taxi-van watching the buildings flash by as they made their way to the MTV Headquarters. They would be appearing on TRL for an interview and four song acoustic set.

Chuck was looking forward to it; promoting the band’s new album in their birth country was number one on his agenda. Jeff and Seb were also looking forward to it, and David, well the effervescent bassist was ecstatic. He was always excited to go on TRL even if they weren’t going to do anything.

However, Pierre was completely indifferent to the coming engagement. His mind was elsewhere, focusing on the ‘conversation’ he’d just had with Pat. He was curious to know how the Were had known about the two women. Short of following him there was no way, to the best of his knowledge, that Pat could have found out.

He cast an emotionless eye toward Pat who sat on the other side of the cab, staring fixedly out the window. Pierre could see tension in the way the other male held his body. Pat was obviously extremely pissed off. The singer shifted and growled under his breath in Pat’s direction.

The Were swivelled his head to meet Pierre’s stare. Yeah?

Pierre’s lips curled slightly. I need to feed when we get there.

Pat snorted and looked away. After what you’ve fucking pulled...I’m not doing it.

Pierre frowned, nonplussed. What?

Pat propped his chin against a closed fist staring hard out the window. Feed from someone else. I’m not feeding you.

The singer shrugged. Meh, no skin off my nose. I’m sure I’ll find some willing person.

Pat grumbled coldly, Or unwilling as the case may be...

Pierre bristled, lips tightening over his fangs. What the fuck was that, Pat?

Pat didn’t respond, and Chuck leaned forward, looking out as the cab pulled into a driveway and rolled to a stop. “We’re here....MTV studios...”

Pierre turned his head and said, scathingly, “Oh, I thought we were at the zoo?”

Chuck frowned but before he could say anything, Pat leaned over and slapped the bigger male across the back of his head. The singer swung his head around and pinned him with a hard stare.

Pat didn’t even flinch, he met Pierre’s gaze directly, jaw tensed, lips pressed together. You’re a fucking idiot, Pierre.

No. You’re the idiot, Pat. Don’t piss me off...

Chuck tilted his head sensing something pass between the two men. He couldn’t tell what it was but it was as if they were communicating with each other.

He shook his head at himself and pushed open the door, stepping out. “Come on...we need to get in there.”

Pierre grumbled still staring frostily at Pat. Pat flipped the singer off as he grabbed his laptop and camera bag and climbed out of the cab.

Pierre sighed heavily and followed gazing up toward the back entrance and hoping that even for a few hours he could just forget about the whole morning. Start afresh. This whole MTV thing would be the start of his day proper. That was his fervent wish. Well, at least after he had found someone to feed from...

* * * * *

“So, boys. Tell me, how long has it been since you were last here?” Damien, MTV TRL’s ever smiling host, glanced along the line at the five band members.

Chuck stood right next to him raking his fingers through his hair, holding a microphone in the other. “Well,” Chuck cleared his throat. “It feels like a year...but it’s probably been a little less than that. We came on sometime last year before we went into the studio to record.”

“Yeah, we were just back from Brazil and came on,” Jeff commented, he stood next to Chuck, rocking back on his left foot and fingering the buckle on his belt.

David was leaning against the bald guitarist’s shoulder waving absently to the fans who were gathered around the level stage. Seb was next to them and Pierre was furthest away from the host, and the fans, gazing absently around the studio.

Damien nodded slowly glancing at a card he held in his hand. “Right, so your album has been released now...Self-Titled? Correct?”

Chuck nodded. “Yes, we thought that this album was the one we needed to make. It’s us...pure and simple.”

Pierre rolled his eyes and mumbled faintly under his breath. Unfortunately, due to the microphone he held in his hand, the grumble was audible to the others in the studio and everybody turned their heads to stare at him.

“You have something to say, Pierre?” Damien gazed quizzically at the singer.

Pierre shook his head slightly. “No. Not really.”

He bit at his bottom lip and glanced around the studio. His senses when he’d entered the room had gone on high alert. The automatic reaction of a predator entering a place filled with potential prey. He had no idea how long he could control the need that was beginning to build inside him. Being still a relatively new vampire he figured he needed to feed more frequently than matured ones.

Pierre knew also that because Pat had snubbed him he would have to find someone else to feed from, but how long the interview and set went for would determine how badly he would need it once they finished. What he was most anxious of was losing control in the studio, because that would just be a complete inconvenience for everyone concerned.

Damien turned back to Chuck. “Right, well today you are going to be performing a few of your new songs for us, acoustically. So, what are you going to do, Chuck?”

The drummer laughed. “I’m the tambourine guy. Sometimes Pierre does the singing and that...but I wanted to do it today.”

“What? Sing?” David interjected, laughing uproariously.

Pierre rolled his eyes and spoke up this time, holding his mike close to his lips and leaning forward. “Yeah, that’s right. Funky-C is in the house.”

Chuck grinned, “I actually have a spoken word part on Holding On...that was fun to do.”

“Don’t expect to do it again,” Pierre half-joked.

His friend just smirked at him then glanced back at Damien. “Anyway, I’ll play the tambourine. Keep time, because these idiots can’t do it otherwise.”

They all laughed, shaking their heads and slapping each other on the back. Pierre was the only one who didn’t join in, shoving his free hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

Damien tucked the card into his back pocket and smiled as the band turned their attention back to him. “Okay, well before you guys go and get ready to perform...do you have a request?”

David grinned. “You know that the guys from Avenged are in town at the moment?”

Damien nodded, “Yes. I went to their show last night. They went off in a big way...amazing gig. You want to play one of their videos?”

Pierre tensed slightly, eyes narrowing, but saying nothing.

The bassist grinned nodding hard. “Play their latest video...Afterlife...”

“Righto, then.” Damien turned to face the cameras. “Whilst the boys go and set up...here is Avenged Sevenfold’s video for Afterlife...”

MTV Studio Backstage

Noon

“So, Save You was written about your brother?” Damien leaned in the doorway to the dressing room Simple Plan was using.

Pierre was in the middle of removing his black shirt and grey T-shirt, wiping the sweat from his upper torso.

He looked toward the host and nodded slightly, even though he really did not want to be drawn into conversation about his older brother. His mind was occupied with attempting to keep his hunger in check. It had gotten worse, particularly since the set had gone on for ten minutes longer than usual.

Not really my brother... He nodded more, answering shortly. “He was really sick. But, he’s better now.”

He grabbed his bag and stepped toward the door. He wanted to go take a shower. They were in a separate section of the studio.

However, Damien hovered in the doorway blocking his way out. “He had cancer, right?”

Pierre’s lips tightened. “Yes. But he’s better now.” Lies...lies...

The host opened his mouth to keep asking questions, but Pierre squeezed passed him.

“Look, I need to go cleanup...”

Damien let him go and left leaving the rest of the band in peace.

Pierre wandered the long corridor until he found his way to the studio shower room. As he was about to step through the door, he halted catching the smell of fresh human blood. He frowned, dropping his bag on the floor and backtracking to another hallway. He glanced down it and noticed a girl leaning up against the wall.

She was quite small, yet had a well-proportioned frame. Fire-red hair was cut in a short bob, and soft green eyes were downcast. Pierre noted that she was right next to the door that leads into the female toilets. He tilted his head, lip peeling away from his fangs. His hunger began to increase, and he silently cursed the fact that Pat had rejected him.

Still, the sudden awareness of the close rushing of human blood, made him realise he had probably just found a solution to his hunger. Smirking, he slowly approached the chick, catching sight of a VIP laminate clipped to the skirt that she was barely wearing. The girl was obviously a fan who had won a competition to gain VIP access to the TRL studios.

She glanced up as he got closer and her eyes almost bugged out of her head. She gripped the laminate, staring up at him. “Oh...my...God...you’re....”

Pierre laughed low, holding a hand out to her. “Pierre Bouvier. Simple Plan. Vocalist.”Vampire...predator...

The girl gulped, throat moving enticingly as she swallowed. The vampire shivered feeling his body stiffen in all the right places. He kept his hand out. The girl grasped it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Once she was standing she made to pull her hand out of his grasp.

Pierre tightened his hold and crowded her against the wall. “What’s the hurry? I’d like to know what you’re doing down here...”

The girl trembled instantly sensing that she was in trouble. Not the, ‘you shouldn’t be down here’ kind of trouble, no, the kind of trouble where she could lose her life. The girl could see the death in Pierre’s deep black stare.

She panicked and tried to pull away from him, but she was no match for his inhuman strength. Pierre snarled low and dragged her into the girls’ bathroom. Hustling her into a cubicle he locked them inside and shoved her up against the wall.

The girl cried out, but he silenced her by claiming her mouth in a brutal kiss. He pinned her wriggling body against the side of the cubicle whilst wrestling her panties off her hips, unzipping himself and forcing his hard length into her tight body.

He grunted as the head met her intact maidenhead. Jerking his mouth from hers, forcing her head back, he clamped his lips tight on her throat, fangs lengthening and punching into the skin. Her body tightened then thrashed, pussy walls clamping on his cock. He snarled and jerked his hips, piercing her hymen and sliding all the way inside her fighting body.

As he felt her pussy close all the way along his length, he pulled at the blood in her vein and began to drink, allowing her dying body to feed his animalistic hunger. He groaned in satisfaction, moving slowly inside her tight hole and, as he fed, darkness descended upon his soul.

What his mother had most feared, and his father most desired, was coming true. He truly was his father’s son...as black as the deepest, darkest pits of Hell...

Notes