Dearly Beloved {Open To All}[Mature]

[†The Blood Countess†]

"Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to weep for the sudden and abrupt parting of Mr. Summers. Such a kind soul he was, full of blood, and plenty of flesh to devour. Yes, the poor fellow suffered a severe heart attack...considering it was ripped from his very chest by a monster!" A pale hand held a still organ before holding it up to crimson colored lips. They parted into a pleased smile, revealing sharp, ivory fangs. With one bite the left over blood seeped into her mouth whilst she suckled feverishly. With her snack now finished, she waltzed over towards other family members that had joined Mr. Summers in a horrible death.

"Oh, hear the grandmother weep for the loss of her own grandson son!" The woman stood behind the elderly one, who's eyes were missing, and made her head bob, causing blood to crawl down her wrinkly face. "Oh such sadness plagues this very room! What a heart wrenching loss!" With that now said, she shoved the corpse off the seat, watching it slump to the floor without a care in the world. Poor Grandma, at least she was in heaven right now.

"Such a pity the mother didn't attend for she died before he! One should have seen the look of shock upon the son's face seeing his mother's head on the floor without a body. It was like living in a horror film! No happy ending I'm afraid." The red head placed one boot atop said head and swiftly crushed it. Blood and brain matter splattered all over the place and even onto herself! Did she care? Good gracious no!

Blood, ah, such a wonderful thing it was to a vampire. The sweet scent that reminded her of copper, the feeling of warm, salty liquid cascading down her throat and filling her empty gullet. Her maw parted, allowing that serpent to sliver out and lick at her lips. Many claim that blood had one taste but that wasn't true! Different blood types equals different salt balances and textures.

But that wasn't important right now. With that little moment over and done with, Amoura continued her little "act".

"Hark! I hear the voice of a young maiden screaming out for the mother and the brother! Such a sweet woman little Cindy was! Brown, curly locks were burned off her very scalp! Who had the gall to do such an unforgivable act? Let us pray they rest in peace..." With a potted plant in hand, she dumped some of the dry soil onto each of their open wounds and then crashed the pot onto the dead dog which laid by the living room door in a pool of blood.

"POOR FLUFFY!" She shrieked, "THE POOR DOG! WHO IS LEFT TO MOURN HIS PASSING?....no one of course..." Chuckling, she turned from the apartment and took a step outside into the cold night. It will be a while before someone finds out their dead and even with the cops around, they won't find Amoura in the files. They didn't keep good records for a hundred years now did they?

[The subject title was edited by me, Nyshia. Its a bit graphic for the younglings, but on another note, you're freaking awesome.]

[The Janitor]

There was no going back now. Jack knew this as he heard the dull thump of the vampire's boots against asphalt. Adrenaline surged through his body as he waited with his back pressed up against the wall. His heart was beating so fast he felt a little light headed and the weight of all his equipment was barely noticeable. Surprising since he was carrying nearly eighty pounds of it. Thirty or forty came from the heavy ballistic armor he was wearing. It was rated to stop intermediate rifle rounds, but he didn't expect a rifle to be brought into a fight. Ones from the current little trend the less savory folk carried wouldn't cut it.

She wasn't one of his targets. Not one he had been paid to dispatch any way. No, she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had stumbled onto the start of the massacre a few hours ago. Taking the time to melt away into the dark back to his vehicle to "suit up" before coming back. After the fucked up little eulogy he stalked around through the dark alley ways to cut her off. Except for the whisper of clothing and low breathing not a sound could be heard. However that was too much noise in his opinion. Hopefully it had been masked by the wind.

Luckily it would be a while before there was any police involvement. The people living in the small apartment were the only ones for (besides the houseless) a few miles. Building after building, all of them condemned or empty, as far as one could see. That made the small family an easy target for anything non-human. It would also help dampen the sound of the gunfire. Made the hunt interesting as well should it move inside one. He enjoyed a little game of cat and mouse once in a while.

With his back pressed against the wall he thought out a quick prayer and prepared to move. His hands tightened around the shotgun held low across his abdomen. It was a copy of the older double-barrel cowboy models. Both barrels had been cut down to about twelve inches. Both hammers had been eased back and were ready to drop on the large three inch twelve gauge shells in either chamber. When that happened twenty heavy copper plated thirty-six caliber pellets would come screaming out of each muzzle like a swarm of angry hornets. At extreme close range it was almost enough to rip the average human in half.

Two shots was all he got as soon as he stepped out. He'd prefer more than that, but there wasn't anything else faster for two shots that he knew of. It wasn't all he carried though. Another shotgun was slung across his back. A little something he'd built off a 590A1 receiver. Barrel was about fourteen inches long. Trade off was a loss of three shots, something he could live with. If he didn't get himself killed. A Glock 20 was tucked away inside his vest. It would take a few seconds to get to. An eternity in what he liked to call "real world time". Hopefully the pushknife in his belt, and the eight inch fixed blade at his side could buy him sometime if things got too hairy.

Slowly he counted off her footsteps and estimated the distance in his mind. Twenty-five, twenty-three, twenty one, nineteen... Almost there, he thought. Closer she got the scarier it was. Fifteen, twelve, ten... It's show time.... With only eight feet between he stepped out of the alley, turned, and squeezed the trigger. The gun held low at the ready for a solid hit the midsection. The muzzle flash blinded and the sound of both shots going off at the same time was deafening. Tossing the gun off to the side he quickly he unslung the other.

[†The Blood Countess†]

Amoura took a left and began to walk down the long, winding road. Rocks were kicked aside by her boots whilst they lazily swept before her. "That was completely pointless." The vampiress muttered aloud. The night began with a promise but only ended with bittersweet sorrow. That family was once a part of hers...when she was among the living. Yes, the Ethelia family. How shocked they were to find that one who had gone missing had returned...to kill them. Did she find joy in such an unforgivable act? Only temporarily.

Why? Why am I losing interest in these things? Normally I'd be set for the evening after getting my "fix" but not today. Come to think of it, she didn't get a "fix" from this. "I don't get it."

After that, she became silent. Empty houses surrounded the vampiress, shadowing the path with thanks to the moon. Bats here and there flew overhead in search of prey, a fox shot out from the darkness and into one of the houses for shelter and a rat walked over on an old cable. What she didn't expect was to find a human-a hunter. Fortunately, she had time to react. One, sharp leap later and she was atop a roof, staring down at her attacker with anger and spite.

"How dare you..." she snarled. Only cowards sneak around like that! Amoura was no coward. If she were to attack someone, she comes from the front!

{Sorry. Muse is in death throes. D:}

[The Janitor]

I'm getting slower, Jack thought. The vampire was no where to be seen. Checking for blood was an option, but the light would give away his position. Not to mention destroy his night vision temporarily. He started moving to the right into the middle of the street. Sharp eyes scanning for any movement that would betray her presence. Carefully tuning out any sounds that might distract him. A hiss of pain, the whisper of clothing, or the sound of her footwear making contact with any hard surface.

There was nothing. Only he knew she was still around. He could feel it. Not really feel it, but he was pretty sure the shot had pissed her off a great deal. Throw in the infamous ego a majority of super-natural creatures had and there was not doubt the decision had been made. That he wasn't walking out here alive and he wasn't dying without suffering a great deal. Dead man walking, he thought, fat chance. He was leaving alive and reasonably well. That was how it was going be. No matter who or what he was up against.

Keeping the shotgun up with one hand he ran his hand across the left side of his vest. Thank god, he thought feeling the cool brass under his finger tips. It was just a double check to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. The two shotshell carriers had five shells each. Twelve thirty-three caliber pellets in each shell. There were two more carriers on the same side at his belt. That gave him four shells of #4 buck. Not the best, but it was for getting as much coverage as possible. Leaving him a blood trail and pissing off his quarry. Same number of rifled slugs were same location only on his right side. Just in case something really bad happened.

"How dare you..."

Without a second thought he turned scanning the rooftops with the muzzle of the gun. Until it settled on the area he assumed the voice came from. At the press of a small button on the fore-end he light up the entire area. The small light at end of the magazine tube was incredibly bright. Almost like a spotlight. There was not to far away. He quickly brought the muzzle right on her position and squeezed the trigger. Forty-four pellets came screaming out of the gun headed in her direction. The distance was a little much, but enough for a nice big pattern. Ejecting shell he let go of the light and kept moving to the right. "Oh I dare bitch... I dare..."

[†The Blood Countess†]

Amoura's venom colored eyes narrowed towards the hunter, form hunched down at the edge of the building. If a person was just passing by they might think she was a bird of prey and a deadly one at that. A chilling breeze swished by, causing a few strands of her fiery hair to toss about her face carelessly.

The vampiress was clearly shocked that this male appeared out of no where! No scent alerted her of his presence, he made not a sound and attacked when she least expected it. It's clear that he was a hunter and well trained. If that alone wasn't enough to confirm her hypothesis, take a look at the weapons he was carrying! For a slayer he was armed to the teeth! Amoura will have to be careful around this one.

Eyes scanned her surroundings for a future escape route should it be needed. Things seemed under control at the moment. But then lights shot on. A yelp of surprise escaped her throat followed by her falling back from shock. Good thing she did, otherwise forty-four pelts would have injured her. With her lying on the roof, hair flared out, her undead vision spotted the deadly projectiles shooting over head. That was too close for comfort. Right now she had to get out of this area. Quickly.

After a snarl, she leapt to her feet and made a mad dash for the next building. The lights caused her sensitive eyes to ache but at least she was getting away from them. Question is: Will he be able to follow? And if he does...she'll have a nasty surprise waiting for him...

Amoura wasn't one to use all her cards at once. When it is needed, she'll give him all she's got!