In Which Many Things Happen
Jackson still had the misguided belief that he was in control of the situation. Here I was, with my fingers entwined in his long hair, holding him on the chair after I had twisted him into place -- and he figured he would simply be able to charm me and make me his little pet vampire? Delusional was the first word that sprung to my mind. Noticing he was still hot and excited I decided terminally stupid was definitely to be added to the description. His arrogance was further demonstrated with his words.
"Mistress," he whined. Again he was using that coy syrupy voice that had initially pissed me off -- I really hated when humans thought they could manipulate me -- "I beg your pardon. I didn't know my place. Instruct me, mold me, I am yours to command." The hatred of having to humble himself verbally danced behind those pretty blue eyes. He had been around us far too long and adopted our behavior. Too bad he didn't have the fangs to back it.
Whereas I certainly did. I smiled and he shuddered again. He really had a fang fetish. I decided to play a bit; after all, I still had time and definitely permissions. It was nice to know that I didn't have to hold my nature back, because Jackson had seen us vampires at our most vulnerable during his years of being a vampire toy. He thought Jasmine would come to his aid if things got too rough. My choosing to mock his use of 'safe' words made him a bit uneasy, but he figured he could change my mind. His thoughts played across his face and were easily read by me.
"Silence." I bit out.
His eyes flashed up at me, more of his nasty little thoughts. He wanted the positions to be reversed quickly, and knew from his past experiences that we were weakest when we first broke the skin. He happened to be right. I didn't plan on doing the usual dance with him. He knew our tricks and had used them to dominate more than one vampire.
Jasmine had revealed this to me, unbeknownst to Jackson. She was somewhat like us, yet not. All the rumors of mediums were true. They did keep bits of the souls they had touched nearby and could use them against both humans and vampires. Morgan and Jasmine were unique in that they touched freely and without shadows of death. Morgan had brought me here to kill Jackson for Jasmine. She didn't want his spirit anywhere near hers ever again. I was more than happy to oblige.
There was a drawer in the nightstand next to the bed where Jackson had put his clothes. I pulled it open and was happy to see the usual bondage works and fur lined handcuffs. I whirled to Jackson and quickly snapped the cuff onto his uninjured wrist. He began to get up, intending to put my wrist in the companion cuff to his. I danced away while pulling Jackson with me unresisting. He was surprised when I snapped the other cuff around the pipe near the ceiling just past the chair I had been keeping him on while I decided how to do Jackson. Obviously it had been used this way before as there was scoring on it suggesting that more than one person had dangled from the exposed metal.
Oozing false devotion he hissed, "Oh, yes, dominate me. I am yours to command." His soap opera delivery wouldn't have even netted him an Emmy nomination much less a statue. He was blatantly phony, and he still thought I was buying his spiel. But he had years of experience with vampires and obviously it had worked -- it must have, because he was still alive. Oh, well, change could be good. Not for him, but it was sure cheering me up.
"Did I say you could speak?" Icy tones laced with some anger. He stilled and shuddered, not in pleasure, but fear starting to dance. I breathed in deeply and savored the tidbit. He was not one to be afraid of much, but I had struck a new chord in his experiences. He was a silver-tongued lover and used his words as weapons to slice at his mates, and by denying him words I froze his best patter. Worked for me.
Leaving him dangling, I walked away, going back to the closet. I pulled the canvas bag out and set it on the bed. His eyes glowed with desire; he'd misunderstood what was in the bag.
Slowly I unzipped it, and began setting some of the arcane implements on the bed. I went for the most menacing tools inside and set them down with nary a word: a corkscrew-shaped device that was used at one time to drill holes in heads to let the spirits free. Then a battery-operated handsaw used to slice off the top of brainpans during autopsies. I flicked the switch and let Jackson hear the buzz it made, removing any doubt it was a fake prop. He moaned softly and tried to damp down his fears. I was making him very nervous.
Then I put out the scariest things I could see inside the bag Morgan had left for me. The silver hammer with hook, a chisel that was used to take away the vault-like part of the skull that holds the brain from the lower skull; it was very heavy and dented into the bedding. The hook part was definitely shiny and bright. I could smell a bit of blood from a previous encounter, but Jackson would be unaware of the scent as it was so light. Mentally I was singing the Beatles tune no doubt inspired by this tool. 'Bang, bang, Maxwell ...' the song danced in my hungry brain.
I placed the skull chisel down next to it. The practical looking t-shaped tool was used after employing the vibrating saw during autopsies to finish the separation of the skull and completely expose the brain. I added the trocar, a long thin pointed shaft with three sides that was inserted to explore the depths of body cavities during autopsies. It had the innocent appeal of being very slender and innocuous until you realized what it was for, one of my favorite little torture devices. Fang in and then measure how far you went. Visually it could really make an impression, so to speak. My last offering to feed his rapidly building fear was the lovely set of rib cutters that barely fit inside the bag. I liked that they looked like normal gardening shears one would use to prune the rose bushes, when they really were used for snipping the rib cage off a corpse before lifting the ribs off to expose the chest cavity. A delightful little toy that finally made Jackson realize I wasn't just playing.
Ignoring my command to be silent he bit out, "Cassandra, what the fuck are you doing? This is supposed to be fun for us both!" His eyes met mine, filled with fear and unasked questions.
"Jackson, this will be fun. For me." With that I stepped away from the bed and into his personal space.
I didn't fang in like he expected. Instead I yanked his head back and raked my nails down his throat. He automatically began to purr and say stupid semi-romantic words. He still thought he could talk his way out of this. I grabbed his bad wrist and held it in my grip. Vampiric strength is not something to be dismissed. I pulled on the swollen wrist and made him wince, all the while he was continuing to try and sweet talk me. He wasn't my type, little did he know.
"Cassandra, take me. I am yours." He was still hoping I would lose my head before he would lose his. Oh well. Time to begin to educate him.
I walked away from him and back to the bed. I pulled the skull chisel off and went to his side.
"Where do you want me to drill?" His eyes got huge; I tapped him in the temple and he was stunned. The second I saw his eyes roll back I fanged in deeply. A few minutes later Jackson was no longer conscious. My desire to drink him dry outweighed my thoughts of toying with him. Why bother, I figured, when I casually snapped his neck. For such a wicked boy he died quickly.
I let his body hang slack from the handcuff while I put away the fear-inducing tools I had laid out on the bed. Unlike some deaths, his was fairly dry by comparison. The usual issues, but nothing that splattered on me. I unlocked the door and called for Morgan and Harry to join me.
Jasmine was the first in the door and said, "Thank you."
I smiled at her, fangs put away. She pointed down the hallway and said, "We have a bathroom there and spare clothing if you need." My bra and underwear were still relatively unscathed but I thanked her and went into the bathroom to clean up with what she had set out. She had anticipating the death of her toy and made sure I had anything I would need. I set my underwear inside the sink and poured heavy cleansing soap on them while I was busy removing the signs of my fun.
In my absence Morgan and Harry had made short work of Jackson. Jasmine, after verifying Jackson was completely dead, went back upstairs leaving us to package the boy up for disposal. The bag of tricks had the necessary tools and in minutes we were ready to discuss where Jackson's final resting place was to be.
"Hey, it just dawned on me," I commented, "was Jackson his first name or his last name?"
The guys chuckled and Morgan answered, "Does it matter?"
Such was the life for us vampires. I could have probed him before I finished him off, but hadn't bothered. We looked up as we heard Jasmine coming fast down the stairs.
She burst into the room saying, "There's some cops coming up the walkway. We need to get him out of here now!"
Thrown for a loop, we looked at her. She pointed down the hallway saying, "Trap door in the last room. Drop him down with the tool bag and meet me in the kitchen in fifteen. I can stall them that long. There is a back stairway outside the last room. Bleach is under the sink in the bathroom. Toss the rags with them into the trap door." With that she ran back up the stairs. We quickly followed her instructions and were sitting around the kitchen table sipping soda when she came in with two cops.
Walking in she quietly introduced us saying, "And here are Morgan, Harry and Cassandra like I said, it's their car parked in front." She draped over Morgan's shoulder saying, "Honey, this is Officer Paul Madison and excuse me, I didn't catch your name?" She looked at the younger of the two men while smiling sweetly. The young man blushed. His fair skin and red hair made him look like a teenager but his eyes were steady and watchful. His partner Paul just sighed and said, "That was because we didn't tell you his name."
Jasmine nodded and replied, "Oh, that makes sense. It was just so startling to have police here at such a late hour."
"Officer Burroughs, sorry I forgot to introduce myself." He didn't sound very sorry and had a deeper voice than I expected. From his look I was half-expecting the cracked tones of an adolescent teenager.
The other cop added, "Like we mentioned when we knocked, there was a call saying someone was screaming and yelling and it was reported it sounded like a child was involved. We have to look around and find out if someone is hurt, if that is okay with you?"
I don't know why he put it in the form of a question since it was more of a demand. Harry smiled and said, "Certainly but first, allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Harry Adkison from Homeland Security," he did the obligatory badge flip for effect, "This is Cassandra Pepper, my girlfriend, and Morgan here -- you're still working in Washington DC, right? What spook title are you sporting now?"
Morgan laughed and produced a leather clad badge of some nature. The men all gathered around and read each other credentials. We had all stood when being introduced and I wandered over to Jasmine.
"Take it you have watchers too?" I whispered when the men were bonding.
"Yes, but Jackson came in unnoticed." She seemed very positive and I made a note to ask her how she was so assured once the police audience was gone. Jasmine had stories to tell.
Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-01-07
Image(s) are public domain.