Post by Ophelia Tempest on Dec 27, 2013 12:22:26 GMT -8
By: Joh Oso
--
In seeking a moment of clarity, she found herself misdirected; musing.
She turned from the window, to the woman sitting on the couch crying. There was a palpable silence in the room, thick and heavy. Anticipation.
"Caius tells me you are in need of my services." She began to pull the fingers on a long, black, silken glove, slowly removing it while she spoke. "If he's willing to trade in a major boon with the family for such a service, he must really like you."
The woman on the couch just looked onward, mouth agape, nodding her head slightly.
"Well, I must say, I personally have never come into contact with a woman that was given the kiss while pregnant. This is quite the interesting experience for me as well."
She picked up a small mp3 player from the table and turned it over in his exposed hand. "Mozart's Fifth? You're lucky that you played this for him in-utero. Without it, I doubt there would be much of a chance we could find him."
She placed the mp3 player in the center of a circle of salt she had drawn on the hardwood floors, turning it on. The dulcimer tones of Mozart's great work begun to reverberate through the halls of the great old house that the two women found themselves in.
Octavia begun to chant and move, her long funeral gown flowing with every transition. The lights in the room begun to flicker, and then were reduced to nothing but a faint glow. The shadows begun to move, then flow into the circle of salt.
The mp3 player fell through the floor, and a chasm opened up beneath where it was. A swirling grey vortex threw papers from the desk about the room.
Octavia looked to the woman on the couch; the neonate childer of some Ventrue with a thing for blondes. She had a visage of terror, her whole idea of what reality is being shattered on the rocks; the treacherous shore of wisdom.
Then it started. Her pussy started to bleed. It was just a dribble at first, but then there was a belch, and a deluge of vitreous fluid begun to gush from her loins. The blonde screamed, trying to climb over the couch backwards, like she could get away from herself.
Octavia tried to stifle a grin, but failed miserably.
The woman screamed.
The blood flowed from the couch, into the circle, and down into the grey abyss. The unnatural winds in the room came to an apex.
Then they stopped.
The lights turned back on.
The portal was gone.
Sitting in the center of the circle of salt, in a fetal position, was a small humanoid form, covered in the afterbirth of ectoplasm, black as night. The woman just stared at it, digging her fingers into the seats of the couch next to her.
Octavia looked on with a look of pure joy. This was her science, her passion. This was all so interesting.
After the shock begun to fade, the blonde moved off the couch and begun to move towards the thing in the circle with caution.
She circled it a few times, then breached the circle and went to pick it up. Black ichor that smelled like brimstone and hatred wafted through the room as she lifted the.... thing. It was maybe the size of a cellular phone, but she cradled it like a baby regardless of its diminutive nature.
Octavia immediately recognized the smell in the room, and a look of panic briefly crossed her face before she brought herself to composure again. It was too late.
"Stripling...."
The blonde looked at her quizzically. "Huh?"
Octavia feigned a smile and begun to gather her things.
"The ritual should last out the night. It can't exit the circle of salt, so don't try to carry it around the room."
The woman nodded and begun to rock the baby back and forth.
Octavia made for the door in a rush, but the woman didn't seem to notice her haste.
"Thank you so much, miss Giovanni. All of my dreams have been of him for months. I think he was telling me that this is what he wanted."
Octavia nodded. "Well, I am glad one of you got what they wanted." She closed the doors behind her and headed for the Bentley that was parked outside.
Her driver opened her door and she climbed in.
"Get us out of here, post-haste."
~~~~~~~~
Tiffany looked down at her baby. His name was to be Jonathan, named after her father. His tiny form was so cold pressed against her undead flesh.
She begun to hum a little song to him, and to her surprise, he begun to move. His tiny little arms, fingers not yet formed, slowly waved up at her.
She smiled. "Oh Jonathan. What things could have come? We will never know now...."
His eyes opened for the first time. They reflective orbs of green, no pupils, with the same reflection that you might find in a pool of oil.
She smiled again. Euphoria had taken over.
Jonathan moved with swiftness. He used his maw, like razors, to dig into the flesh of her chest.
She screamed.
He dug into her, trying to find his way back to his home. The home that she had robbed him of.
She grabbed her abdomen and fell, blood seeping from the tunnel her baby had bored into her.
"W-w-w-why......."
She stopped moving, her body going limp.
Her eyes closed.
When they opened again, they were a reflective green.
--
In seeking a moment of clarity, she found herself misdirected; musing.
She turned from the window, to the woman sitting on the couch crying. There was a palpable silence in the room, thick and heavy. Anticipation.
"Caius tells me you are in need of my services." She began to pull the fingers on a long, black, silken glove, slowly removing it while she spoke. "If he's willing to trade in a major boon with the family for such a service, he must really like you."
The woman on the couch just looked onward, mouth agape, nodding her head slightly.
"Well, I must say, I personally have never come into contact with a woman that was given the kiss while pregnant. This is quite the interesting experience for me as well."
She picked up a small mp3 player from the table and turned it over in his exposed hand. "Mozart's Fifth? You're lucky that you played this for him in-utero. Without it, I doubt there would be much of a chance we could find him."
She placed the mp3 player in the center of a circle of salt she had drawn on the hardwood floors, turning it on. The dulcimer tones of Mozart's great work begun to reverberate through the halls of the great old house that the two women found themselves in.
Octavia begun to chant and move, her long funeral gown flowing with every transition. The lights in the room begun to flicker, and then were reduced to nothing but a faint glow. The shadows begun to move, then flow into the circle of salt.
The mp3 player fell through the floor, and a chasm opened up beneath where it was. A swirling grey vortex threw papers from the desk about the room.
Octavia looked to the woman on the couch; the neonate childer of some Ventrue with a thing for blondes. She had a visage of terror, her whole idea of what reality is being shattered on the rocks; the treacherous shore of wisdom.
Then it started. Her pussy started to bleed. It was just a dribble at first, but then there was a belch, and a deluge of vitreous fluid begun to gush from her loins. The blonde screamed, trying to climb over the couch backwards, like she could get away from herself.
Octavia tried to stifle a grin, but failed miserably.
The woman screamed.
The blood flowed from the couch, into the circle, and down into the grey abyss. The unnatural winds in the room came to an apex.
Then they stopped.
The lights turned back on.
The portal was gone.
Sitting in the center of the circle of salt, in a fetal position, was a small humanoid form, covered in the afterbirth of ectoplasm, black as night. The woman just stared at it, digging her fingers into the seats of the couch next to her.
Octavia looked on with a look of pure joy. This was her science, her passion. This was all so interesting.
After the shock begun to fade, the blonde moved off the couch and begun to move towards the thing in the circle with caution.
She circled it a few times, then breached the circle and went to pick it up. Black ichor that smelled like brimstone and hatred wafted through the room as she lifted the.... thing. It was maybe the size of a cellular phone, but she cradled it like a baby regardless of its diminutive nature.
Octavia immediately recognized the smell in the room, and a look of panic briefly crossed her face before she brought herself to composure again. It was too late.
"Stripling...."
The blonde looked at her quizzically. "Huh?"
Octavia feigned a smile and begun to gather her things.
"The ritual should last out the night. It can't exit the circle of salt, so don't try to carry it around the room."
The woman nodded and begun to rock the baby back and forth.
Octavia made for the door in a rush, but the woman didn't seem to notice her haste.
"Thank you so much, miss Giovanni. All of my dreams have been of him for months. I think he was telling me that this is what he wanted."
Octavia nodded. "Well, I am glad one of you got what they wanted." She closed the doors behind her and headed for the Bentley that was parked outside.
Her driver opened her door and she climbed in.
"Get us out of here, post-haste."
~~~~~~~~
Tiffany looked down at her baby. His name was to be Jonathan, named after her father. His tiny form was so cold pressed against her undead flesh.
She begun to hum a little song to him, and to her surprise, he begun to move. His tiny little arms, fingers not yet formed, slowly waved up at her.
She smiled. "Oh Jonathan. What things could have come? We will never know now...."
His eyes opened for the first time. They reflective orbs of green, no pupils, with the same reflection that you might find in a pool of oil.
She smiled again. Euphoria had taken over.
Jonathan moved with swiftness. He used his maw, like razors, to dig into the flesh of her chest.
She screamed.
He dug into her, trying to find his way back to his home. The home that she had robbed him of.
She grabbed her abdomen and fell, blood seeping from the tunnel her baby had bored into her.
"W-w-w-why......."
She stopped moving, her body going limp.
Her eyes closed.
When they opened again, they were a reflective green.
