Sequel: Ravaged with Silver Scars ›
Status: REDONE
A Parade of Intoxication
Prologue
***Paris, France***
Rain fell on the old roofs of the city, pattering away heavily as waves of the water washed down flowing through the centuries old streets. But the water could only wash away so much, it could take away the evidence but never the act as a young male fell hard to the ground. The wind knocked out of the youth and his blood spilled as another fell to join him as a shadow looming over him. An agonized yelp cried out of the second male as a shimmer of silver cut through skin, muscle and bone severing his head form his body. Cold blue eyes looking down at the body of his handiwork emotionless as the body began to pale and become rigid, solid until veins of crimson burst through like cracks of glass. The body was like a broken porcelain doll until the cracks over took the shell and shattered, the crimson lost its colour and left nothing but what looked to be like ash that washed away with the rain. Red eyes burned in fury as they watched the body decay before staring up at his captor, the young youth with his blood matted hair growled with an unearthly sound but his captor was unmoved. Dark eyes began to burn crimson, burning with a glare that shined in the darkness of the night back frowning down upon the youth “repos profondément” deep and sober he wished the youth well in the ways of their people.
However the youth was not as kind “va te faire foutre!” he swore back just his captor pointed his gun at the youth’s chest exactly where his heart was located and pulled the trigger. The silencer muffled the sound of the gun as the man watched the youth decay just as his partner had a minute ago.
Staring at the remains as they slowly washed away the man with the blue eyes frowned deeply as he walked closer to his partner, eyeing his best friend with carefully. His platinum blonde hair grew soaked like his clothes but he remained focused as he watched his dark haired friend who has only been awake for forty eight hours and already found two targets in a local nightclub. Dark with long hair the man wore a red button up shirt, black vest, slacks and a long coat, no one would ever suspected he had been asleep for a hundred years. “Not even a century old and they have lost their way” he spoke in English as he lifted his hand and stared down at the cold metal weapon in his hand “I could never get used to using one of these”.
The blonde man scoffed “well this is the normality, everybody uses guns these days” taking the gun he pocketed in the back of his belt hidden under the cover of his jacket.
“And when has it become normal for the young ones to succumb so early? I’m starting to think I slept for a thousand years not a hundred” taking back his blade from his friend he sheath the short thin short “that’s the fifth lot we’ve encountered and its only one in the morning”. Looking him in the eye he studied his friend, Albion was his name, for centuries the two held each other’s backs yet even though the man hadn’t lost his class he had to admit it was a little odd seeing his blonde friend with short hair. But at least they didn’t have to wear those white wigs any longer when going to fancy parties.
“Much has changed since your imprisonment, everyone still believes you’re going around gathering support, training, being your father’s darling son” a smirk grew the dark haired male’s face.
“Yet everyone is none the wiser of my brother’s actions. Nor is he when the fact of the matter is I willingly went to rest and not from his scheming” his eyes glinted at his friend who nodded “as ignorant as he is arrogant”. Slipping his hand into his coat’s pocket he fished out a simple tie and tied up his long dark hair before the two began to walk out of the darkness of the alley and into the sea of people and umbrellas.
Walking through the crowded streets even after a hundred years he felt like nothing had changed. Paris still flowed with life, people bustling and the city was still a spotlight for fashion and luxury. Even as the rain poured he grinned enjoying the air seep into his lungs, to be able to move about once more. Nothing could beat the feeling of liberation that thrummed through him, not even the burning ache inside as his hunger demanded to be sated by the one thing that gave everything life. Even though the night was gloomy he felt the adrenaline rush through him before he spotted neon lights and the felt the thrum of the music that beat within. Grinning he turned his head to his friend “feeling a peckish, you?” returning the smile they both walked up to the bouncers of the club who immediately let them in and they took seats back at the bar they had left earlier to pursue the two boys.
Ordering some drinks they surveyed the club, neon lights flashed around as smoke and bubbles dancing around. Taking in a deep breath he scented alcohol, sweat, drugs and sex, his hearing was more sensitive now form his sleep and could hear a threesome going on behind hot pink and scarlet curtains of a booth facing the dance floor and no one could tell. The loud music beat with a force that vibrated through his body, a strange sensation he only felt when he fought in battles when the cannons went off. Just when his drink arrived his friend took out his phone, device he appreciated more than a handgun and gave to him. “Thought you might appreciate a list of those we’ve lost during your absence and who was responsible” he said before taking a sip of his drink.
The ice cold eyed Albion always knew him best and had perfect timing to deliver anything he needed at anytime. Indicating his thanks before winking to a red haired woman in a pink tube top he took the phone and scrolled down. The list had a fair few names he recognised, most were people he was glad to see put down, a number deserved to die, some more painfully than others from their crimes and unspoken sins. But the few who didn’t saddened him a little, particularly one name that made his heart stop “Hilda is dead?” turning to a frowning Albion “how?” Albion turned his head looking at a booth filled with five men and a few girls playing roulette shots and instantly he recognised a man with golden hair.
“I don’t remember him being so young, did he have a son while I was gone?” his eyes narrowed at the golden male who had no clue of the danger he was in.
“You know their kind, breed like rabbits” Albion replied finishing his drink “given the right season”. Chuckling he drink his drink when a dark haired male that sat opposite of their golden blonde target froze and then slowly turned his head. Dark blues catching them in sight a low growl rumbled in the dark male’s throat. A growl like that and how quickly he became alert of their presence could only mean one thing; he was a Lycanthrope.
“Things are about to get exciting” the long haired male smirked finishing his drink “two birds, one stone apparently” grinning a toothy grin he flashed his canines at the glaring dark haired male just to aggravate him more. “He looks familiar as well, did Harcourt get a son too?” he asked
“Not son, brother” Albion set his glass down and smiled a deadly grin before turning to the growling male who alerted his golden haired friend who froze. Setting his glass down next to Albion’s they stared the two males down, the golden haired Alchemist and the dark haired Lycanthrope. The pair not realising that within the next half hour they would be beaten to the ground unconscious but before the trigger could be pulled, before revenge could be successfully taken he spotted something within the golden male’s possession and smiled before looking at the cool composure of Albion. “I have an idea”.
Rain fell on the old roofs of the city, pattering away heavily as waves of the water washed down flowing through the centuries old streets. But the water could only wash away so much, it could take away the evidence but never the act as a young male fell hard to the ground. The wind knocked out of the youth and his blood spilled as another fell to join him as a shadow looming over him. An agonized yelp cried out of the second male as a shimmer of silver cut through skin, muscle and bone severing his head form his body. Cold blue eyes looking down at the body of his handiwork emotionless as the body began to pale and become rigid, solid until veins of crimson burst through like cracks of glass. The body was like a broken porcelain doll until the cracks over took the shell and shattered, the crimson lost its colour and left nothing but what looked to be like ash that washed away with the rain. Red eyes burned in fury as they watched the body decay before staring up at his captor, the young youth with his blood matted hair growled with an unearthly sound but his captor was unmoved. Dark eyes began to burn crimson, burning with a glare that shined in the darkness of the night back frowning down upon the youth “repos profondément” deep and sober he wished the youth well in the ways of their people.
However the youth was not as kind “va te faire foutre!” he swore back just his captor pointed his gun at the youth’s chest exactly where his heart was located and pulled the trigger. The silencer muffled the sound of the gun as the man watched the youth decay just as his partner had a minute ago.
Staring at the remains as they slowly washed away the man with the blue eyes frowned deeply as he walked closer to his partner, eyeing his best friend with carefully. His platinum blonde hair grew soaked like his clothes but he remained focused as he watched his dark haired friend who has only been awake for forty eight hours and already found two targets in a local nightclub. Dark with long hair the man wore a red button up shirt, black vest, slacks and a long coat, no one would ever suspected he had been asleep for a hundred years. “Not even a century old and they have lost their way” he spoke in English as he lifted his hand and stared down at the cold metal weapon in his hand “I could never get used to using one of these”.
The blonde man scoffed “well this is the normality, everybody uses guns these days” taking the gun he pocketed in the back of his belt hidden under the cover of his jacket.
“And when has it become normal for the young ones to succumb so early? I’m starting to think I slept for a thousand years not a hundred” taking back his blade from his friend he sheath the short thin short “that’s the fifth lot we’ve encountered and its only one in the morning”. Looking him in the eye he studied his friend, Albion was his name, for centuries the two held each other’s backs yet even though the man hadn’t lost his class he had to admit it was a little odd seeing his blonde friend with short hair. But at least they didn’t have to wear those white wigs any longer when going to fancy parties.
“Much has changed since your imprisonment, everyone still believes you’re going around gathering support, training, being your father’s darling son” a smirk grew the dark haired male’s face.
“Yet everyone is none the wiser of my brother’s actions. Nor is he when the fact of the matter is I willingly went to rest and not from his scheming” his eyes glinted at his friend who nodded “as ignorant as he is arrogant”. Slipping his hand into his coat’s pocket he fished out a simple tie and tied up his long dark hair before the two began to walk out of the darkness of the alley and into the sea of people and umbrellas.
Walking through the crowded streets even after a hundred years he felt like nothing had changed. Paris still flowed with life, people bustling and the city was still a spotlight for fashion and luxury. Even as the rain poured he grinned enjoying the air seep into his lungs, to be able to move about once more. Nothing could beat the feeling of liberation that thrummed through him, not even the burning ache inside as his hunger demanded to be sated by the one thing that gave everything life. Even though the night was gloomy he felt the adrenaline rush through him before he spotted neon lights and the felt the thrum of the music that beat within. Grinning he turned his head to his friend “feeling a peckish, you?” returning the smile they both walked up to the bouncers of the club who immediately let them in and they took seats back at the bar they had left earlier to pursue the two boys.
Ordering some drinks they surveyed the club, neon lights flashed around as smoke and bubbles dancing around. Taking in a deep breath he scented alcohol, sweat, drugs and sex, his hearing was more sensitive now form his sleep and could hear a threesome going on behind hot pink and scarlet curtains of a booth facing the dance floor and no one could tell. The loud music beat with a force that vibrated through his body, a strange sensation he only felt when he fought in battles when the cannons went off. Just when his drink arrived his friend took out his phone, device he appreciated more than a handgun and gave to him. “Thought you might appreciate a list of those we’ve lost during your absence and who was responsible” he said before taking a sip of his drink.
The ice cold eyed Albion always knew him best and had perfect timing to deliver anything he needed at anytime. Indicating his thanks before winking to a red haired woman in a pink tube top he took the phone and scrolled down. The list had a fair few names he recognised, most were people he was glad to see put down, a number deserved to die, some more painfully than others from their crimes and unspoken sins. But the few who didn’t saddened him a little, particularly one name that made his heart stop “Hilda is dead?” turning to a frowning Albion “how?” Albion turned his head looking at a booth filled with five men and a few girls playing roulette shots and instantly he recognised a man with golden hair.
“I don’t remember him being so young, did he have a son while I was gone?” his eyes narrowed at the golden male who had no clue of the danger he was in.
“You know their kind, breed like rabbits” Albion replied finishing his drink “given the right season”. Chuckling he drink his drink when a dark haired male that sat opposite of their golden blonde target froze and then slowly turned his head. Dark blues catching them in sight a low growl rumbled in the dark male’s throat. A growl like that and how quickly he became alert of their presence could only mean one thing; he was a Lycanthrope.
“Things are about to get exciting” the long haired male smirked finishing his drink “two birds, one stone apparently” grinning a toothy grin he flashed his canines at the glaring dark haired male just to aggravate him more. “He looks familiar as well, did Harcourt get a son too?” he asked
“Not son, brother” Albion set his glass down and smiled a deadly grin before turning to the growling male who alerted his golden haired friend who froze. Setting his glass down next to Albion’s they stared the two males down, the golden haired Alchemist and the dark haired Lycanthrope. The pair not realising that within the next half hour they would be beaten to the ground unconscious but before the trigger could be pulled, before revenge could be successfully taken he spotted something within the golden male’s possession and smiled before looking at the cool composure of Albion. “I have an idea”.