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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/653748-Act-I-Dark-Master-Dark-Slave
by Suffer
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #653748
Lord Suffer hunts down those who have kidnapped his blood slave.











Act I: Dark Master, Dark Slave
By: P. Christopher



Returning to his castle a few hours before sunrise, Suffer was immediately aware that something was amiss. Upon opening the door, his suspicions were confirmed; the stone floor was strewn with detritus, bookshelves had been overturned, furniture had been smashed.

Somewhere a phone was ringing.

"Rayven." He called his blood slave's name, but there was no reply. Not that he was expecting one.

Calmly, he closed the door as his senses stretched out to detect any lurking threat. Following the trail of debris from room to room, he pieced the story together.

They had come in through the balcony and confronted Rayven in the bedroom where they likely found her sleeping as she waited for his return. The bed’s disheveled condition stood in mute testimony. She fought them then fled to the hall.

In the hallway, several spent tranquilizer darts littered the smooth marble floor. His pet was fleet.

Dirty footprints down the grand staircase led to the den where several large book cases had been overturned as his slave sought to delay her pursuers. Four tranquilizer darts still protruded from the wood shelves.

The phone was still ringing.

Into the living room now. By this point they were most likely frustrated having expected Rayven to be an easy target.

The holovision was in pieces on the floor. More tranquilizer darts in the wall. The sofa was lying on its back and two chairs had been shattered against the wall. More of his slave’s handiwork, no doubt.

Glass from the tall windows twinkled on the floor like stars. Reinforcements had come through the windows and finally helped subdue his slave.

Someone had violated the sanctity of his home.

His home.

The very thought made his eyes glow icy blue.
They had come into his house and had stolen his most valued possession. His daylight guardian, his food source, his slave.

Blood dripped from between the fingers of his balled fists.

#

A phone was ringing. It was his private line in the study.

He went there directly, settled into his high backed, hand carved obsidian throne, collected himself. Upon his desk sat his slave’s collar still buckled. Picking it up, he turned it in his hand, dark brown eyes inspecting the object; there were blood stains where the collar had been cut from her neck. Clearly, it had been removed to prevent her from being traced by it’s built in GPS locater.

Still the phone demanded his attention.
"Phone on," he said.

Instantly the phone came to life, projecting a two dimensional holographic image above his desk. The face that appeared before him belonged to Davin Breakwater, a Human executive for a rival company. Suffer had been face to face with him just last week. His company, DataCorp, was in desperate trouble; they wanted Terradyne to go in with them on a contract worth billions. Suffer had turned down the offer then began negotiating for the contract on his own company's behalf becoming DataCorp's primary competition.

"Davin," he said evenly. "I presume you are responsible for my home's current state of disarray."

"You arrogant son of a bitch!" Davin spat, a smile creeping across his face. "You remember what you said to me last week? You said that we couldn't negotiate because DataCorp didn't have anything you wanted." Now Davin's face shrunk into a smaller square, which shifted to the left corner of the virtual screen. Dominating the view now were two heavily armed men.

Sitting between them was his slave.

"What a difference a week makes, eh, Suffer?"

"What do you want, Davin? I am a busy man."

"I want to renegotiate, you fuck! I want you back at the table!"

"Let me speak to my slave."

"Fine! But make it quick."

Rayven was sitting calmly, her hands cuffed behind her back, one leg crossed over the other.

"I trust you are well, girl," said Lord Suffer.

"Si, mi amo," she said.

"She didn't even put up a fight, Suffer," said Davin. "I think maybe she wanted to go. Perhaps she's not as enthralled as you think."

"My slave didn't struggle because she knows better than to allow my property to be damaged." Then to her he said, "Still you did allow these men into my castle, and you allowed yourself to be taken; you will be punished when you get home."

Rayven nodded, "Si, mi amo, I understand."

"That's enough talk, Suffer. You won't see your little bitch again unless you agree to meet me on my terms!"

"I guarantee you, Davin, we will meet again. Much sooner than you think."

"Fuck you, you cocky prick! Don't try and get high and mighty with me. It's no secret that this little whore is your prized possession. If you don't-"

"I don’t think you realize the full ramifications of your actions, Mr. Breakwater. You sent men to my home and stole from me. Have you ever noticed how a man's pet tends to take on it's owner's personality? Now, you know how I am. Do you think my pet to any less deadly?

“I'll make you a deal. Have your men release my slave now, and I will kill you quickly."

"I'm making the demands h-"

"I will not make this offer again."

"Fuck you!" was all Davin could muster.
Lord Suffer steepled his fingers, turned his attention to his blood slave. "The day will be breaking soon; I will collect you tomorrow night."

"Yes, master," she said. "Permission to kill, master?"

"Granted."

No other words were spoken. There was a dark blur, a frenzy of action, and a split second later the two guards were dead, their arms broken, throats torn out.

Rayven was nowhere in evidence, just a black wolf disappearing around a corner.

"Enjoy the day, Mr. Breakwater. Tomorrow night I am coming for my slave. Then I am coming for you." With a wave of his hand, the transmission was terminated, the echoes of Davin's final threats dissipating in the air.

#
They came with the dawn. Hunters. They crept into Castle SuffeRing like rays of sunlight, moving in tight formation taking down the heavy drapes as they went. These men didn't come cheap. They were well armed and highly trained.

It wouldn't be enough.

Lord Suffer had anticipated this move. Indeed, he had counted on it. He would require a hearty meal before the night's activities. And he waited for them there in the castle, in the shadowy corners, in the windowless rooms.

A dozen women were widowed that morning and the night would echo with the wailing of their fatherless children.

#

While the silver cuffs sapped her strength and robbed her of the ability to transform, they made Rayven no less dangerous. Blood oozed from her wrists, over her hands; the cuffs were slick with it. Gradually, she was able to work one hand then the other free. There was just one thing she needed now.

"Permission to kill, master?" asked Rayven.

"Granted," said her owner.

Without another word, she lashed out. Kicking the chair back as she stood, the slave wrapped her right arm around the arm of the man on her left, catching it on her shoulder, she pulled down and snapped it at the elbow. His scream of pain was trapped in his throat by a ridge hand chop to the neck. Next, she snaked her arm up his as she side kicked his advancing partner; she could feel the ribs give. Her arm wrapped around the front of the first man's throat circling his neck and doubling him over. With a sharp upward tug, she snapped his neck.

Even as his lifeless body was falling to the floor, Rayven was killing his partner. She stomped on the inside of his knee, breaking it, then whirled around behind him, wrapped her arm under his chin and broke his neck over her shoulder.

As he crumpled to the floor, Rayven melted into her lupine form and took off, her claws making clicking sounds on the floor.

#

On a night lit by the barest hint of silvery moon, the sentries nervously manned their post at the entrance to one of DataCorp's numerous research facilities. Lord Suffer appeared in a ring of blue flame, clad in night; a coat-black as hate-spilled from his shoulders to the ground, billowing about his boots as he moved toward them, trailing a wake of fading blue flame.

Caught completely unaware, the men were crushed beneath the weight of the Vampire's wrath. Drinking them dry, Suffer tossed their empty bodies aside like so much refuse. With no concern for the alarms, he ripped open the heavy steel door, leaving it hanging by one hinge. Once inside he met with a barrage of automatic gunfire. The Vampire Lord simply turned to mist; the bullets passed right through. Baffled, the security agents ceased fire, lowered their weapons as the silver mist dissipated into nothing.

#

Cautiously, Mark patrolled the corridor, sweeping his rifle back and forth as he crept from room to room, mindful for the first time just how deadly his quarry was. All the while he was dogged by the promise she had made when he had cut the collar from her neck.

“As my collar has gone, so shall your head follow,” she had said. He had laughed and shoved her out the door.

He wasn’t laughing now. How could they have overlooked the fact that she was…

A growl from behind alerted him to her presence much too late. For a horrific moment he stared blankly at his decapitated body.

Her promise fulfilled, Rayven had already moved on.

#

Suffer coalesced into material form at their rear and slaughtered them readily. He walked the corridors unmolested now, his preternaturally keen senses scanning around every corner in search of his stolen property. There was a familiar scent in the air.

Death.

But it wasn't coming from those he had left behind; it was coming from ahead. Lord Suffer turned the corner; there was a man on the floor, his throat torn out. Standing on his chest was a silver and black wolf; her growling ceased and her eyes flashed when she looked up and saw him.
Rising to her full height, Rayven returned to her human form, bowed her head before her master.

"I see that you have been busy, girl," he said.

Blood dripped from her chin. "Si, mi amo."

"I trust you are sound."

"Yes, master, your property is undamaged."

"And hungry it would seem."

The slave allowed a wicked grin to slide across her lips. "Not anymore, master."

"No, I suppose not. Come. We have one last stop to make."

"Yes, master." Wiping her chin, Rayven fell in step at her owner, following in his fiery steps as he led her out.

#

Pacing, Davin Breakwater wiped his brow on a rag already soaked with sweat. The news was grim; the research facility was a charnel house with no sign of Suffer or his slave. That meant they would be coming soon.

Davin was a dead man, and he knew it.
He stood on the porch of the executive beach house, waiting for the inevitable.
Davin pondered the revolver in his right hand, measured its weight.

"You're too much of a coward to use it, Mr. Breakwater."

Suffer was standing in the door, his blood slave just behind. Davin whimpered pitifully, backing up against the wooden railing; the gun fell harmlessly from his hand. Suffer approached him slowly; he was holding something behind him. A weapon no doubt. But what? A gun? No, that wasn't Suffer's style. A blade of some sort, dull and painful.

"You remember that I offered you a quick and painless death, Mr. Breakwater. It was a generous offer considering the circumstances."

Lord Suffer glanced at his slave who waited patiently at the door. To Davin, she seemed almost like a sulking child waiting for a spanking. By now he was shaking too violently to speak.

"I made a stop by 1488 Manor Street on my way to retrieve my property," Suffer continued, and Davin's knees gave out as he recognized his home address. "Your wife. Your children. All waiting for you. In Hell."

Suffer brought his hands to the front and produced a bloodied teddy bear, dropped it at Davin's feet. Suffer was saying, "You take from me, I take from you."

Wrapping his fingers around the bear that had been a birthday gift to his three year old daughter, Davin Breakwater began to jabber unintelligibly as he collapsed in on himself.

Lord Suffer turned to his slave. "Come, pet."

The girl was confused. "We're leaving, master? But he's still alive."

"He is dying, girl. Slowly. Very slowly. As I promised."

With a last look over her shoulder, Rayven followed her master.

#

As the sun came up the next morning it found Rayven standing on the balcony outside her master's bedroom. Inside he slept while her bare, honey colored flesh soaked in the rays of the reborn sun. Obsidian locks cascaded down her back partially covering the violent evidence of her brutal punishment.

When they returned home, he took her to the ShadowBox, made her strip, and laid her down on a bed of nails. Then he fucked her. Angrily. Savagely. The weight of his body pressed the nails into her back, the force of each powerful thrust ripped her flesh, delivering an intoxicating mixture of excruciating misery and joyous bliss. The chamber rang with her tortured screams.

Finally, he leaned in and drank from her even as released inside of her; every nail ran crimson with her blood. As if cued by her master's climax, Rayven's body shook with her own pain tainted orgasm. In this way she was simultaneously punished for allowing her master's property to be stolen and rewarded for seeing it safely returned to his possession.

Half impaled, she lay heaving in the aftermath of their union, the loss of blood making her head swim so that she was only distantly aware of her master pulling her off the spikes, washing her wounds, laying her at the foot of his bed.

#

The sky turned hues of orange and gold as the new sun rose and Rayven squinted chocolate eyes against it. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers across her new collar; its weight around her neck was reassuring. His dead seed was seeping down her inner thigh as she turned and slipped back into her master's chamber, careful not to allow any of the deadly sunlight to infiltrate the room. Then she sank to all fours as she became the wolf. Rayven hopped lightly onto her master's enormous bed, circled twice around the scarlet satin sheets before settling down.

Though her body still ached from the night's abuse, she sighed contentedly. She was home, at her master's feet where she belonged.
She smiled inwardly as she felt a powerful hand grasp her collar, tugging at her. Seemed she wouldn't be going to sleep just yet.





The End

© Copyright 2003 Suffer (suffer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/653748-Act-I-Dark-Master-Dark-Slave