John Doe 4✦ (
entirelymyown) wrote in
agoodyarn2025-11-19 11:03 am
a vampire au for
ceaselesslabor

Vampires are immune to every illness, can heal from any injury, withstand almost any damage... other than ennui. The vampire who's only heard himself called 'master' for far too long, whose terrible power rolls before him and sets others of his kind trembling...
Is absolutely no different in this regard.
He is ancient and terrible and he has a great court within the city that bores him to tears. Which is why he'd snuck out from their compound and gone, of all things, bar-hopping. Thus meeting Arthur and his partner.
It had been simple enough to get his partner out of the way; a call to one of his court had the man bundled up and carted off, a snack for later. The lack of a companion had made luring Arthur to the back entrance, the one with the alleyway, the one he could enjoy a meal in peace in, even easier than it might have been.
...and then he'd tasted the man's life. Tasted the depths of sorrows in him, the death that surrounded him, the strange shining light, dim and flickering but unwilling to go out, that was the shape of his soul.
Which was why, feeling almost possessed, he'd found himself ripping his arm open and pressing the bloody wound to Arthur's pale lips.
And now, here he was, his new fledgeling in his bed, waiting for him to awaken. He had stirred earlier, only enough to be hungry and only enough for the familiar scent of his friend to guide his fangs where they belonged. He'd been proud as he watched Arthur drink the life from him with the same gusto that he'd tasted himself. And now, the connection to his old life severed, he'd be ready to share the night with him truly.

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Parker left. Arthur left. There was the feeling of someone's arms around him and then everything went black.
He wakes up now with a sweet taste in his tongue, like the delicate cocktails they serve to the people with money. He's not in his own bed with the dent in the middle and the creaky springs, but he's not in Parker's, either. He opens his eyes immediately, sitting up with dizzying speed and looking around.
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But he remembers that waiting always seems to take forever when one is excited for a new childe and he has not been so excited for a childe as he is for this one for a very long time.
Thus Arthur will see a large man, dressed in biker leathers adorned with far too many trinkets for how silently he can move, perched near by the bed. His hair is dark, as is his skin, but his eyes are a glowing golden color that no natural eyes have any right to be. When he speaks, there's no indication in his voice, but anyone looking at his mouth will see the slightly over-long canines he bears.
"Something the matter?"
He'd looked very sated before he'd settled back down to rest and finish his transformation.
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But of course he's not a man. Arthur had a case like this once. Parker said he was crazy for taking it on, but a man had come to them desperate and afraid and Arthur couldn't resist. His son had disappeared and he was afraid that he had fallen into some blood drinking, cannibalistic cult. They found the boy, shaken and naked in the woods, rambling and ranting about vampires.
It was all dismissed as nonsense, but there's something about those fangs and those eyes that Arthur recalls now.
But that doesn't stop his protests. "Did - did you kidnap me?" he hisses, recalling a dream where he had been so, so thirsty. He drank deeply from a deep, sweet well. He can still taste it now.
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"Technically, it would be theft. As you were a corpse when I took you." Beat. "Of course, I made you a corpse, so you might be more concerned about the fact that I drank your blood until you were on the brink of death before that."
He offers a smile.
"Or you could ask about why you're not dead."
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He goes cold, but he realizes that he was always cold. His heart is still in his chest and he hasn't taken a breath except to speak since he woke.
He reaches up instinctively and touches the fangs that he hadn't noticed until this moment.
"What did you do to me?" he demands, practically leaping out of the bed.
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"I gave you what you wanted. And what I wanted, after I knew you a little better."
Mmmm. He stands up now and Arthur will get to see just how tall he actually is, even as he moves like a housecat from next to the bed towards the door.
"...you're not going out like that, are you? There's fresh clothing right there on the table."
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He looks to the door and then to the table before down at himself.
Breathe, Arthur... he tells himself. There has to be a way out of this. If he can get out, then he can find help. He can figure it out if he can find Parker.
"...going out where?" he wonders, not relaxing even an inch.
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He steps a little closer now.
"But you do have full run of my house, of course."
He can't help reaching out to touch his cheek. Clean a little smudge of blood.
"Let me be clear: you are a vampire. I am your master." A pause before he continues. "And what I gave you is eternal and everlasting life, as well as the means to protect that life."
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He forces himself to breathe. Unnecessary fir living. Essential for being calm.
"Why - why did you do this to me? And what did you do to Parker?:
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"What did I do?" A shake of his head. "Nothing. I didn't touch him." Once more, firmly. "I'd never take him from you." A fond smile. "Reach. Think of him. You'll feel him there, inside. Always with you."
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He -
There was -
No. He was in the dream. The dream he had of the well. Arthur focuses on that moment, looking past the man and to the bricks in the wall. Parker was in his dream, telling him not to drink. How had he forgotten? Parker had yelled at him. Screamed as he drank, but Arthur didn't stop. He had grabbed at him, held his hands, but Arthur kept drinking, driven by instinct he didn't have before.
"Oh god..."
All the fight goes out of him and he reaches up to cover his mouth in horror, hands shaking.
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"He accepted it by the end," he says softly, "when he realized what it meant. That you would live. He struggled, it's true but... he died peacefully."
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It might be tempting to lay guilt at this man's feet, but he chooses this moment, this time, to take it all on himself.
"Get out," he tells the creature. His master. "Get out."
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"You should keep reaching. There's more than just his death there, Arthur."
But he'll say nothing more before he dips his head and slips out of the door. He'll be outside once Arthur's ready.
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He's dead. Parker's dead. He is a vampire. Parker is dead. He is stuck in this house. Parker's dead.
He killed Parker.
He finally stands and dresses in the clothes on the table. They fit him exactly, and he wonders why he isn't even surprised by it.
Eventually, he opens the door.
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Three doors down on your right.
If you want to see me. But the bathroom is right across from you.
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He doesn't know why he's shocked at his expression in the mirror. Too many vampire movies. Too many reasons to not see anything. He inspects his teeth, the enlarged canines, his pale face and blood still on his lips.
He scrubs again, sighing.
But he feels better as he emerges and walks to the door the man told him to go to.
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When Arthur walks in, it's to see his master laying on a couch, a book placed down to turn his attention on Arthur with obvious joy.
"I didn't realize it would upset you, Arthur. I'll be more careful about speaking to you that way. I promise: I'm not trying to upset you."
He sits up a little and offers the rest of the couch to him.
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He doesn't sound angry about it anymore, at least. A thousand thoughts cross his mind, but most of them are just focused on what next. What happens next. He looks around the room, walking the perimeter to inspect it.
"You still haven't told me your name."
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"Because I don't have one," he says easily enough, smiling over at Arthur. "Well, I suppose I did have one, at one point. But I don't remember what it is. Memories drift and fade as one lives. I don't even remember when I remembered having one. Usually, all I am called is 'master'."
He watches Arthur pace around.
"You can give me one, if you want. If it would make it easier."
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"You're just a John Doe, then," he remarks lightly. "I - I can't just give you a name," he says, reading over the list of movies, though the record player catches his attention almost immediately. He does not, for a single moment, turn his back on the other, though.
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Fine. Alright. John it is. Might as well."
Any name is as good as any other. Every name is better than Master.
"I - didn't think a vampire would be the sort to watch films like this."
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"Why not?"
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"All these vampire films," he says. "Didn't think you'd need to keep up with the culture of it all."
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