To the Victor

Christopher was tiring and he knew it, Peter did not seem an especially good swordsman but the last time he’d felt blow’s with such power it have been training with a superior called Orion back during his soldiering days. That man however had been built like a bear and Christopher was truly surprised by the strength Peter possessed, even though he’d inherited his fathers height nothing else about him suggested he’d come at Christopher with such force. 

Peters attacks came in a barrage it was almost all Christopher could do to parry and while he was managing, by now the shoulder in his sword arm had began to throb. Each time Peter swung and Chris was forced to block it his arm jarred painfully in it’s socket each blow creeping closer to penetrating his defence. Christopher’s tactic was simple defending as best as he could he would wait for Peter to tire an wear himself out it was bound to happen, no man could keep up attacks of this severity for long before they tired or made a fatal mistake that would leave him vulnerable. 

The it happened, a lucky break Peter over extended, his body twisting leaving his side open. Taking the opening Christopher thrust forward catching Peter painfully in the side with a not too insignificant spray of blood, for a moment Christopher felt a wave of relief it thinking it over. 

Peter seemed to crumple his left arm coming around to cover the wound, his legs looking to buckle but no sooner did Christopher look to lower his weapon victorious that Peter recovered and with a wild swing launched out. 

The suddenness of the attack caught him by surprise, quickly back peddling out of the way Christopher waiting for Peter to fade, he knew he’d hurt him, he’d felt the flesh rip the amount of blood indicated a severe wound. While a last attack was no unusual in mortally wounded men, the fact that Peter came and kept on coming, launching one after another attack against him quickly made the young lord doubt the blow he was sure he landed. 

Quickly he realised this was not as over as he though collecting his thoughts he mearly defended. So vicious and wild Peters swings where unrelenting but the nobleman did not seem to be tiring in the way Christopher knew he was. 

Meanwhile Vincent watched the fight from the shadows of the doorway, he was in no condition the venture into the remaining ebbs of daylight. Thump thump thump was all he could hear around him the heartbeats of every man, woman and child overwhelming his senses. Peter was burning though the vampiric blood too fast. Using it to increase his strength and speed as well as heal the mortal wound Christopher had already delivered, he would burn himself out before too long but the question was would Christopher last that long? 

In that instant, he hated his sire he hated her for making him do this, making him ghoul the nobleman who rightly deserved to find death. He knew she had her reasons and they where not necessarily wrong but he hated that fact that this was the solution she’d chosen truth be told he’d have quite happily killed Peter himself. Siren would be furious if she knew he’d allowed Peter to die and for a moment he wished Allard had not woken, he wished Allard had left him sleeping the result of the fight out of his hand. 

His head swam as he watched the fight, barely able to think coherently for the hunger the urge to feed overwhelming, the people suddenly seeming less real.. less like thinking sentient beings and more like little dancing goblets of blood tempting him to drink. 

Illusions… what one. .. how … I need to put up an illusion.. He struggled to come up with a plan. 

Then suddenly it all changed. Slipping on the blood Peter launched forward tumbling into Christophers blade, piercing Peter straight though his gut. The crowd gasped and Gabriel was heard calling out in horror. 

“Oh God No…” Vincent gasped, racing out of the doorway and into the light without thought for his own safety. Pushing though the crowd, who had gathered Vincent found Peter lying in a pool of his own blood Gabriel at his side, Christopher and Orrick already leaving the scene victorious. 

Peeling back the clothing from the wound, Vincent could see the last of the vampiric blood struggling to heal the fatal wound, successful or not it didn’t matter he needed to get Peter out of here. 

Recovering it before anyone else saw what was happening,  Vincent scooped up the young nobleman, the sun stinging his flesh like a million fire-ant’s and rushed towards the castle.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demanded angrily, but Vincent didn’t listen he didn’t have time. Rushing though the corridors Vincent made his way towards Peter’s room, he had the act quickly. 

Charging though the doors he stopped dead in his tracks finding Sophie sitting waiting. “You knew?!” he growled accusingly. 

Sophie nodded, innocently standing and approaching the bed as he lay him down. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, warn me they would duel?” 

“It wouldn’t have worked any other way” Sophie replied, tearing back the cloth revealing the wound still bleeding and no longer trying to repair.

“I don’t have the blood to save him” Vincent growled. 

“Arabella” Sophie called and Vincent watched him horror as the door to the garderobe opened and Arabella emerged a young girl held tightly by the back of the neck. 

“I bought you dinner” Arabella smiled presenting the child to him. 

“Damn you both” Vincent growled, staring at the girl who he recognised as on of Orricks girls “I will not kill that child” 

“You must” Arabella smiled seeming to take great pleasure in the fact. 

“Quickly Vincent” Sophie sung “he’s dying” 

“Arabella.. you do it” Vincent insisted.. “You’ve been feeding… you have the blood” he insisted. 

“Oh no..” Arabella purred, “He’s too far gone, Siren will kill me if I turn him” 

“You think she won’t kill me?!” Vincent growled, he knew the other kindred believed him somehow protected by his sire, as though they thought he had special leniency but in truth it just that Siren trusted him, at least as much has she trusted anyone as they have been together for such a very long time. 

“Feed!” Arabella purred pushing the child towards him who stumbled and began to cry.

“No!” 

“Quickly” Sophie demanded “The mistress will be very upset if we lose him” 

He hated them, he hated them all.. he hated Arabella, Siren and Sophie cunning scheming witches the lot of them. 

“Feed” Arabella goaded. 

Then it happened, losing control him dived forward sinking his teeth into the warm soft flesh of her neck.

2 responses to “To the Victor

  1. So many things going on I can hardly keep up! Yay for Chris and BOO for Peter. I really want Peter to DIE a horrible death not live!!! I feel for Vincent but at the same time OMG about one of Orricks girls!!!! WHO??? I am dying(and I hope she isn’t!)

  2. OMG, OMG, OMG … at least Chris won, but, Jimminy Cricket on a pogo stick! Not one of Orrick’s girls! Hasn’t that poor man been through enough in the past — week?!?!

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