Your Blood is Mine

"It's time to conjure food for you both." Sangfroid wiped his mouth after he drank water. It was a satisfying meal.

But he was still left feeling unsatisfied with Leron's indifference towards him. It feels strange....

He couldn't get rid of the feeling. He is normal Leron after all, but his keen senses from being a hunter for too long had been able to detect that something is amiss. It is like how a butterfly or bee would be alarmed if the flower he perched onto no longer had nectar.

There is something missing about Leron, and he can tell it. The compassion in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, the recognition of a friend.

Still, he did not say anything, and merely fed this stranger.

"Give us Sangfroid." He commanded the Amulet, his own name rolling roughly on his tongue. His hesitance is evident, both due to this estrangement he senses from Leron, and the idea of such a thing itself.

He will see a copy of himself, and watch it be feasted on by vampires. It feels too ominous.

Still, he had spoken the words already, and it is a spell that could not be reversed. The Amulet only gives, not takes. Very much like him, he believes he will not be able to take away this empty husk Sangfroid to the two vampire lords even if it makes him unnerved.

Thus, he offers himself up to two powerful immortals that are almost like gods.

The ground breaks, forming zigzagging cracks, until something slowly rose. First a head, then the shoulders, then the torso, abdomen, and legs. Standing perfectly still, was Sangfroid.

In front of Sangfroid.

His one purple eye was blank. He looks exactly how Sangfroid currently looks like, even the fishtail braid was perfectly recreated in its messy form The tatters in his clothes, the soot, and grime.... All the same. It was actually this very replica of himself that made Sangfroid remember he had not bathed in a long time.

The real Sangfroid feels strange about it. He was not hostile, nor afraid..... But he does not like it either. He was just drawn to it, but not the same way fireflies are foolishly drawn to a flame. He wanted to touch it to feel his own skin against his own skin, but after that, nothing else. There is no vanity in such desire, it is just pure child-like interest. It is not convoluted like The Beat's thoughts on Awful White.

He feels completely nothing about this replica besides interest.

After that interest was satisfied, Sangfroid took back his hand. He then commanded the empty husk, "Walk toward them." 

The husk did so, and he was now fed to the lions.

The Beast was entranced by this exchange, finding it strange. He is sure that even Vladstin will hold on to an empty husk of himself a while longer, or say something about it. But Sangfroid...

What does this mean about his perception of himself? Does that mean that he regards himself the same way one would regard thin air?

Absolutely nothing.

That might explain his subservient attitude. He means nothing to himself.

Or perhaps, he is simply a logical soul, and knows this object that he conjured is nothing at all like him. Not related to him, nor even remotely him. It is merely an object, not Sangfroid.

But if the Beast thinks of it that way, his enjoyment of drinking the empty husk's blood will be lessened.

That is why he is quite annoyed with Sangfroid's indifference. He wants him to react more, to feel hesitant to give up his own self to be food. It is so frustrating!

"Are you not going to eat it, Prince Leron?" His thoughts were broken by Sangfroid's voice. "Vladstin is already eating."

True enough, Vladstin had sunk his teeth on the empty husks neck, caressing the thick jawline with a sultry look. It was merely similar to a toy Sangfroid, and yet he treats it with much care as the real one, showering it with whispers of affection and sweet nothings such as "Mmm... Your blood taste good..." and "Ah, so sweet. I want more..."

And Sangfroid was not appalled by it at all. He just watched Vladstin the same way one would watch the sky while laying down lazily in the shade of trees. 

It was the Beast that was appalled for him. Wasn't this church boy hunter supposed to be thin-skinned according to Awful White's memories of him!? And yet he is willing to watch the image of himself being desecrated and played around with by dirty vampires?

Had something changed him? He gave a glance from him to Vladstin, then back to him again.

What is their relationship with each other!? Seriously, what is wrong with the both of them!?

He instead hid this incredulousness in the guise of worry. "Are you sure I could do this to you, Sangfroid? Do I have your full permission?"

"You have permission to do anything to me, Your Highness." Sangfroid returned his worried face with a consoling smile.

The Beast blinked hard. But then, he is starting to make sense of the situation.

Sangfroid is not indifferent at all.

He is happy.

He is happy to be food for his Highness.

His lips quirked up to smirk, but he controlled it into a small, gentle lamb-like smile. He then gave a brief nod. "I see. Then, can you please help me reach the arm?"

Sangfroid went offer to get the unmoving husk's arm and lift it near the Beast's mouth. The beast took a small bite and sipped, eyes never leaving the real Sangfroid.

That smile.... That smile is too giddy and hilarious, it's taking his whole will just to not burst into endless laughter.

'Ah, so you enjoy this, huh? I didn't know I would like this kind of subtle perversion as well....' He praised Sangfroid very much in his mind. This man, he is not like Awful White had initially thought. He is not like anyone thought.

This man, Sangfroid, may even be darker the Leron's Desire himself. Both his morality and desires are twisted and spiraled into something that at first glance would resemble 'normality', but it is completely, and utterly abnormal!

He may even have been abnormal since the moment he was born! Unable to be corrupted as he was already corrupted himself.

The Beast had developed a newfound fondness for this Sangfroid he had met today. Such fondness that is enough for him to just want even more convoluted and corrupt things to happen to him, up to his heart's content, to beyond extremities itself. He wants this Sangfroid to show him endless depths and pitch black so badly.

He is something so bad it turned to good. And Leron must have been the catalyst, that is why he is so attached to him. 

"Sangfroid..... Ah... I want to bite your neck too." He mumbled lightly, fluttering his long lashes like an entertainer selling herself on the streets. "Can I?"

"Vladstin, I may have to lower myself a bit." Sangfroid said, asking for permission from the other vampire lord first. 

"Hnnn... Alright." Vladstin changed into a kneeling position as the empty husk was lowered.

Now two vampires sink their teeth in either side of his neck. They made sloppy and wet sounds as they lapped on every single drop of it. It was like an image of a beautiful painting made by a master painter.....

And Sangfroid regarded it as if he was the painter himself. In a way, he was.

He let them do as they will with this replica of his, also feeling calmly satisfied by it. He helped hold on to Leron's head so he can drink from the crevice of his collarbones deeper, even hearing the bones crack. There was a tingling sensation from his skull and this strange arrangement of sound, this strange symphony of being feasted upon.

He wanted to be feasted on forever.

He wanted to experience what the empty husk has, but also know he must not. He does not envy it. He is satisfied vicariously enjoying it through a substitute. To be bitten by Vladstin and Leron, but of which he had gone beyond the boundaries of love, hate, and friendship..... and had reached an ineffable relationship with.

There is no use for names, all three of them are connected now. That is simply how it is.

Though such connection may not remain forever, it is there, and it cannot be denied. 

Like this picture of him being feasted on, he wanted to be one with them both and turned something much more besides Sangfroid.

Because Sangfroid in itself means nothing. It is just cold blood. And blood is meant to be drunk by vampires, he had learned that now.

This, he was subconsciously aware of for a very long time before he was even born, along with all his contrasting ideologies of not having such a creature exist. Though he hunts them, he also wants to be a servant of them. An unending Chalice that they could drink from forever, so they may not search for anyone else.

Only Sangfroid.. Delicious Sangfroid, that will satiate them.