写作

A Staged Experiment (Fan Fiction)

Born in darkness, soaked in blood, constrained by shackles.

Violence builds your bones and flesh; assassination constitutes your life.

 

The only truth for you is:

Death can be forced upon everything.

 

You are the Assamite, the clan of hunt, the assassin. But now, you have another identity––a student of Hiroshi sensei, a problematic one.

 

Under the moon, you are again overpowered by your desires. The experiment based on your willpower to confront the curse failed. Harnessed by desire and the ingrained curse simultaneously, you lust ravingly for the vitae of other Cainites. As if deafened by our own growl, your sanity fails to ride out. You rush savagely at the Kindred nearby, your sensei Hiroshi. You bite on his shoulder and grab the fresh laceration in your mouth together with the clothing ripped open by your sharp teeth.

 

You hear the muffled voice escaped from Hiroshi’s throat. Your insanity and impulsion are so powerful that you manage to break all restraints and push him all the way up against the lab wall. Right before your head is about to hit the wall, he pressed you on his shoulder tightly with his hand, regardless of the pain this movement might bring. Still exerting force on his shoulder, you shove him down on the ground.

 

The reason is still at disadvantages.

Instinctively, you keep devouring his vitae.

It is sweet and luscious. For you, this is the Eucharist, the bread and wine.

 

You see his shadow struggling to emerge from the crack of the shade cast on the wall, and then being decisively forced back.

 

Sensei must be suffering. I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t control myself…Stop…

 

You attempt to employ all the sanity left to release what is held in your mouth. But when the tip of your tongue touches the wound, the pleasure brought by his vitae again prevails, transforming the licking into an even bigger and more ferocious bite.

 

You heard his somber scream.

 

Blood addiction, animalistic insanity…You are exhibiting the darkest and most disgraceful side before your dearest sensei.

 

With several swallow movements, the sweet and fresh fluid rushes toward your throat. What comes along is the feel of his muscles, with some fabric scraps, touching your lips. While uncontrollably hurting him, you can’t stop shivering and shedding tears. Willpower being destroyed again by cowardice, you immerse yourself in endless self-resentment.

 

I’m hopeless…I can never break the curse…

 

Affected by resentment and sorrow, you sink into deeper confusion. Suddenly, you feel someone gently rubbing your head, through which your wandering mind finds a stopover.

 

“Now, breathe. It’s fine. You can continue. Breathe, one, two, three.”

 

This is Dominate. It is control, and also help, drawing you back to reality. Thanks to his power, some air finally finds its way into your lung. And also a perceivable tinge of humanity, strangely from the body of a Kindred. Two seemingly incompatible characteristics are harmoniously presented on him. This is sensei. This is Hiroshi.

 

“Yes, proceed. You are doing well.”

 

Eventually, you manage to capture a fleeting calm in a few deep breaths. After some time, your sanity finally takes control. The blood yet to be swallowed in your mouth is thrown up. Blending with what gushes out from Hiroshi’s wound, it flows down your chin and his clothes, and spreads to the ground, leaving a mess.

 

Confounded and remorseful, you burst out bawling.

 

“So noisy.” Hiroshi frowns.

His pupils suddenly turn red, “Stop.”

 

As a sharp contrast to the gentleness earlier, the dominate power cruelly curbed your crying, tucking the noises back into your gut through the mouth.

As if choked by your own crying, you sit on your heels trembling in front of Hiroshi, not even daring to look at him.

 

He measures the length of the laceration you caused with his hand, which turns out to be longer than a palm’s width and almost stretches all the way to the back.

 

“Shi…” He glances at you, “Ship…”

 

His dominate on you being relieved, the remaining force of confrontation throws you forward.

 

 

You hear the blood splatter. Your hands are covered with this viscous red fluid which has already lost his temperature and gives out a metallic smell. If you were a human, you would be dead already.

 

“Sensei, punch me”

“What?”

“Punch me, kill me, or throw me away. My power…It’s nothing but a curse.”

 

He grabs you by the collar and pulls you towards him. The next moment, the hand that held onto your collar suddenly grips your cheek and forces you to look directly into his eyes.

 

“Behave. I’m not here to tame you.”

 

Caught in the grip of an unsurmountable power, you almost lose your balance.

 

“You fail, you try, fail again, try again. This is how you approach success.” Hiroshi puts extra stress on every verb, as well as on your cheek. You feel hard to breathe.

 

“You wanted to change, so I showed you a possible way. Now you want to give up?”

 

The fear lies in the present and the future he describes.

 

Barely able to breathe or open your mouth, you shake your head, as a silent but forceful response.

 

“Good. Let’s continue. It’s just a beginning.”

 

By Lyskevir