|From Heart Bleeder to Body
Author: LobsterDevil PM
Alex has lost what it means to be human, though she is one. Working for vamps and werewolves she waits for the one who has claim on her. Once claimed we join her journey to escape his clutches and regain her humanity before it is truly taken FINRated: Fiction M - English - Supernatural/Angst - Chapters: 45 - Words: 125,889 - Reviews: 265 - Favs: 177 - Follows: 23 - Updated: 04-23-06 - Published: 11-20-05 - Status: Complete - id: 2053173
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: This story deals with sexuality, violence, suicide, abuse both physical and mental, and non-con. sex. This story also has bad words in it. These characters are not the type to say "Darn" or "Gosh" so if you do not like strong language then turn back now. As for religon, remeber that this is a work of fiction and is in no way intended to be considered as fact. If you find yourself offended, maybe you should rethink reading supernatural fic. since most deals with Religion and not always in a good way. Thank you for reading this disclaimer.
Oh and if you copy my work, I will find the means to have you thrown off this site. Copying is bad.
Now enjoy the story if you're not already scared off.
Before I go on further, let me say one simple thing. I'm no fucking hero. Shit, I'm far from it. That said, I'm not a bad guy either. It's just that I have only ever been willing to die for two people in my life. Hero's are stupid fucks who will die for anyone. Not me. Given the option, I choose life easily.
I don't want anyone's pity. Some would call my life a 'tragic' one. I laugh at those people. Not saying that my life is particularly great, but I do enjoy it. Reach up and feel your pulse on your neck. If it's there you're doing a lot better then a lot of people who have a coffin lid to stare at everyday. Like a corpse could see their coffin lid.
Speaking of corpses, those two people I was talking about, well one of them is one. He's been gone for a while now. That stupid bastard. He left me here. No, wait, screw that, he left us here. The day he died was the day my life went to hell. It was the day that he could come for me. That day, I knew I was going to hate the rest of my life.
Confused? Well let me tell you a few things about my life. My sister and I were orphans. Never knew my real parents and didn't especially care. It ate at my sister though. We started life a St. Mary's Unfortunate Children's Home. There were only two unfortunate things about us:
1.We had no parents
2.We started life at a St. Mary's Unfortunate Children's Home
Don't really remember much. Bitchy nun's shouting at our five year-old antics. Other than that…nothing. I do however remember the first time I met Pops.
He was leaning against the wall smiling at me and my sister, Isabelle. His eyes were warm and inviting. He was maybe in his forties, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, along with his neck. His hair was long, pulled back into a pony-tail the color of salt and pepper. He seemed to be in shape. I remember thinking he looked so strong, like a superhero. A red plaid flannel shirt with a black t-shirt and blue jeans was the way he dressed then and always. But the most intriguing thing about this man to my young eyes was his scars. One slashed through hi right eye curving wickedly to his chin. The other was at his left cheek thick and painful reaching his nose. Most children would run away at the sight of a man like him. I smiled and studied him with full interest. I grabbed Isabelle and headed toward him in a daze.
Izzy, as I call her, was smiling at him along with me. He laughed at our taking notice in him. A deep and charming laugh, a laugh that invited you to laugh with him. He seemed so safe and warm. That was the moment I fell in love with him.
My love for him was as a mentor, and Father. Izzy fell for him too, and he for us. He took us away from there, and we were unfortunate no more. Those first few years with him were the happiest of my entire life. That was until I met the pale-faces, or better yet, the pale-face.
Now I'm going to tell you the world Pops adopted us into. Brace yourself, because your about to think I'm full of shit. Vampires, witches, werewolves, and a lot of other strange shit exist. Now stop laughing. Of course Izzy and I never really shared an affection of calling them by their real names. We made them new names as children, and well, they stuck. So I'll tell you what some of them are so you won't get too confused.
1.Vampires are pale-faces
2.Werewolves are fluffs
3.Witches are hazels
4.Any victim we were defending were heart bleeder's
5.Any victim we were turning in were bodies, if we knew they were just food, we called them suckers
Now if you think that I'm going to tell you that I'm a slayer, you would be wrong. I already told you that I'm no hero.
Pops was a very, very, very good businessman. He saw an opening in this underworld of pale-faces and fluffs and pounced. He had balls of steel and a hell of a lot of luck to actually make this business work. He created a warrior for-hire company for the creatures of the night. I was the best at it.
Now I know what you're thinking. Why the hell, would beings with more power than us, use humans for killing? Think about it for a moment. We can walk around in sunlight. We can appear to be just 'food' to any unsuspecting victim. We can retrieve human runaways by pretending to be there friends. Oh we were useful, we were also untouchable. We held no true allies. Our loyalties could only be bought. We had an understanding with the creatures of the night. Business was good.
The night my world went away, I was on a mission. A heart bleeder was gripping tightly onto my small waist shuddering on the back of my bike. What was her name? Was it Chrissie? Amber? No, wait, now I remember, it was Mandy. That's right Mandy.
Typical case, her parents wanted her back and paid for her rescue. Whoever wanted her was stupid to just leave a single fluff guard. Fluffs are vicious and all, I wouldn't recommend them as pets, but no where near ferocious as pale-faces. You only had to worry about them if they were a pack. She sobbed all the way back to my bike wanting answers to the oh-so familiar questions.
An annoying ring hit my ears. God, how I hated my stupid phone. I felt Mandy's confusion behind me as I went to park. The heart bleeder Mandy stared back at me confused and scared. She threw glances over her shoulder waiting for her boogie-man.
"Wait here." I told her as I turned to leave.
"No!" she sobbed as she reached out for me. I merely pushed her gently back on the bike.
"Listen I'm just going to be right against that wall." I pointed toward a wall a few feet away, "You won't leave my sight." She sighed and nodded her head.
I exhaled sharply and went to the wall watching her every movement. She was about 16 maybe 17. A little too thin in my opinion, with mousey brown hair cropped at her shoulders. She was bruised and her thin, white, child-like nightgown was stained with old and new blood. She was what I would call attractive, maybe even beautiful. She looked so scared so lost. That's why we called them heart bleeders; they made your heart do just that for them. This is what I was to become eventually; A sad pale-face toy. I shuddered at the thought and called Iz.
"Hi yah Ally." She answered. I smiled under my mask.
We could never let our face be recognized; it would put us in danger. Or masks were special, a spell was place so that they didn't fall or get ripped off easily. We wore them on missions where use of our face wasn't needed.
"What's up Izzy?" I drawled out bored.
"Your bleeder went to body." She said gravely. I snapped my head towards Mandy still jumpy. The fluff after her had outbid her parents. With my help, she would be his. I narrowed my eyes.
"Where's the drop off?" I asked calmly.
"4569, West Craven Street, Apartment number B5." She answered quickly and then hung up.
I sighed lightly. I figured that this would happen. Mandy the bleeder was too pretty for her own good. She smiled at me as I got back on the bike. She hugged me from behind, gesturing a thank you. I kicked off.
This was business as usual. Pops made the agreements and called them into Izzy. She then remained in contact with all of us. She was home base, a link to information and help. She was a complete computer whiz. She amazed me back then. How she could keep over 50 warriors up to date and help them stay safe at all times. When she didn't do it Pop's called into someone else, his name was Eric, but Izzy was better.
We never met our coworkers. Pops went to see them if it was necessary. If I did work with someone it was either Pops or Iz. We were also never to see the people or things hiring us. A safety precaution, a very wise one in fact, but that rule alas was already broken by me. I'll tell you about that in a bit.
Mandy kept asking where we were going. I told her some bullshit story about a safe house. God, if she would just shut up. I want to see her as an object, a package that I'm delivering. Mandy was ruining that defense mechanism for me.
I stood before apartment number B5. I pushed Mandy ahead of me and gave the door a swift kick. The door gingerly swung open as she meekly took a step forward. I groaned and shoved her in with my foot on her butt. The door slammed. Her screams of sheer terror echoed through the corridor as I headed back home.
Don't hate me. It's a fucking living. I warned you earlier, I'm no hero. Yes, I wanted to try to save her. But it would serve no purpose. I would end up dead or worse I would have to see her die. This way was a lot better. Mandy would have her revenge though. Karma, if that is what you want to call it. I would become I heart bleeder, and no-one would save me.
I walked into the office waiting area plopping myself onto the couch. I sighed heavily and rubbed my temples. Mandy was on my mind. She was either dead, or being tortured right about now. I can feel guilt. These outcomes always made me feel guilty. They were the constant reminder that I fucked up. I forfeited my life. And somewhere deep in my little soul, I wanted to turn Mandy in. Why should she get a savior?
I smiled under my mask as Pops' door flew open. There he was, the man of my life. He was different now. Not just older, but less lively. His pale grey eyes didn't sparkle anymore. His once soft salt and pepper hair now looked oily and dirty. He looked paler and tired. I sighed to my self. Maybe Pops was getting to old for this.
"Come on my little Ally." His husky voice asked me, motioning towards his office.
I sprang up from the couch and bounced in the room. He chuckled behind me and closed the door. I immediately took of the mask rubbing my cheeks back to life. He sat down behind the plain metal desk.
The office was simple, file cabinets, white walls and a grey ugly desk with a computer and phone. One wooden chair sat in front of the desk. I grabbed it flipping it around to sit in it backwards. My chin was resting on the back board. Pops lit up a cigarette and then threw me one. I caught it and swiftly lit it. Oh God did this feel fine.
"Mission complete." I said exhaling the smoke slowly watching it. Pops merely nodded his head.
"Alex, I'm sorry about the girl, Mandy." He said sadly. Good ol' Pops, he could always tell when I was upset. I shrugged my shoulders.
"No, don't be. It's business." I said trying to sound cheerful as possible. Pops had always felt guilty for my fate. These cases got to him and my sister too.
He merely smiled and stood walking over to me. His old rough hand came down to my head and shook up my hair, messing it up. I growled I hated it when he did that. He attempted more and I fought his hand off. Glaring a fake death-glare. He chuckled and turned to leave.
"Go to bed Alex. Tell your sister goodnight for me." He called back and waved. I smiled as I watched him walk away. His scent of Old Spice lingered. That would be the last conversation I had with him.
How I wish I could say more to him. Ask him what I wanted to ask. Like, why did he want to adopt me and Izzy? How did he get involved with all these creatures? Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell us that you were dying?
I walked toward one of the file cabinets and pressed a button hidden on the side. The cabinet slid to the side allowing me access to the door behind it. So many precautions. All so that the creatures wouldn't know that Pops had us. Well most of the creatures any way.
I'm guessing your wondering why I was to become a heart bleeder. Pops started training Izzy and me when we were just little girls. He shown us pictures of the creatures (Yes they can be caught on film) and explained them in great detail. He also explained rules that would keep Izzy and me alive and well.
The rooms behind the cabinet were ours. Our bedroom, a work out room, a library and a training room, all of them ours. They were safe and tucked out of the rest of the worlds view. We could come out during the day, but never at night. Pops had made this point over and over again. We might meet some pretty nasty things and he needed no weaknesses apparent to them. We were fine with this until I had a nightmare at age eight.
Izzy was asleep in her bed. I was scared. I can't remember for the life of me what the nightmare was, but I needed Pops. I was careful not to disturb my sister as I crept from the room. The concrete floor was cold beneath my bare feet and my cotton pink nightgown did little to shield the cold from the concrete walls. Timidly and shivering I made my way up the stairs towards the office. Voices echoed down into the air around me. I easily recognized Pops voice. There was another man with a deep rich voice talking to him.
I should have turned right around and went back to bed. I knew that I wasn't supposed to be there. That opening that door was against the rules. But I was curious. Could this man be a fluff? Or maybe it was a hazel? What about a pale-face? Curiosity now made my eight-year old mind lose itself. My hand reached up and I pressed the button to make the file cabinet slide. At Pops gasp I should have run. He could have played it off. He was charismatic enough. Instead I opened the door.
The harsh light in the white room blinded me temporarily. I heard a low chuckle and turned my head toward the noise. A young man about 25 sat hazel eyes focused and shining at me. His shoulder length light brown hair straight and pulled back in a low pony-tail. A green dress shirt peeked out behind a brown leather jacket. Brown slacks gathered at the top of black combat boots. He was watching me intently, smirking. He was handsome and lean. His long nails tapped the armrests of the chair lightly. All this burned into my memory. He was the first pale-face I had ever seen in person.
"Ally, go back to bed, NOW." Pops voice broke my studying of the man. His voice sounded strange. I didn't recognize it at first. It was the first and only time in my life Pops sounded frightened.
I should have listened to him. If I would have turned around right then, I wouldn't have ever been in this whole mess. Instead I did what any typical eight-year old would do. I continued on in my own little world.
"Pops why is there a pale-face here?" I asked quickly pointing at the vampire in the chair. The pale-face raised an eyebrow at this and glanced towards Pops, his smirk widening.
"Pops? Pale-face? Tony who is this charming young girl?" he asked his voice soft and full of amusement. I could hear a slight Spanish accent in his words.
I looked at Pops. His warm face was calm, but his eyes showed pure terror. His hand was going white as he gripped the desk for support. I stepped further into the room closing the door. Pops was scaring me. I started to walk slowly towards him.
"Pops?" I questioned.
"Alexandria, go to bed. NOW!" he spat out at me. I flinched taking a step back. He never called me Alexandria. Tears came to my eyes and I turned to obey him. The pale-face was now kneeling before me. His face was level with mine. I cocked my head to the side studying his pale features. My hand shot up. A moment of shock filled his eyes as I caressed his face lightly with my hand. A smile was now on his face as his eyes sparkled. I stared at his fangs now showing. He was fascinating to my naïve mind. My hand then reached towards them. I wanted to see how sharp they were.
"Alex no!" stammered Pops behind me. The pale face snatched my hand gently and chuckled. I looked back at Pops.
He stood ridged now with fright. He wasn't looking at me, but the pale-face who was still holding my hand, standing behind me. I tried to go to him but the grip tightened around my hand. The pale-face then spoke.
"Tony, you're being rude, I asked you who this girl was, as well as what she means by pale-face?" he spoke in a threatening manner.
"Jack this is my only daughter, Alexandria. She calls all vampires pale-faces.", answered Pops putting emphasis on the word only. To the pale-face, he probably sounded like he wanted sympathy. To me it was a clear message not to say anything about Izzy.
I was watching Pops the whole time. He was my rock and this man, no this creature, had frightened him. Why I was not scared, I don't know. I jumped a little as nails slightly combed my hair. I turned to look at Jack the pale-face.
"No, no, my dear." He cooed, "You were doing marvelous. Sorry if your 'Pops' scared you. We were talking of grave matters before you came in. He's okay now, aren't you Tony?" Jack said with amusement and a hint of something dark.
I looked at Pops he kept his eyes on Jack but nodded yes. I stupidly fell for it. I sighing a quick relief smiling up at the pale-face still clutching my hand. He smiled back and chuckled a little.
"Okay dear," he started, and then led me towards the chair," Sit down here and draw while Pops and I continue our discussion." I sat near the foot of the chair. He turned away from me for a moment then handed me a piece of paper and a pencil. I thanked him and then started to draw.
I was caught up in my stupid drawing to pay attention. I hummed lightly to myself and scribbled on the paper. Occasionally I would look up at Jack, and he would be staring at me out of the corner of his eye. After a while he started to pet my head while I drew. Their conversation came to a close.
I looked up at Pops. He was walking towards me arms extended ready to take me to bed. I raised my arms up, one hand clutching on the drawing ready to greet his. Jack then pulled me into his lap.
"What have you drawn for me my pet?" he asked snatching the drawing away glancing at it.
"You, walking in the sun." I started to chirp. He threw me a curious glance.
"Pops said pale-faces can't, so I felt bad for you and drew you a picture so you wouldn't feel bad." I said quickly.
He smiled a full blown smile. His eyes were gleaming and dancing their hazel dance. He now caressed my face, playing with my hair. He leaned forward to whisper in my ear.
"Your very pretty, Alexandria." He whispered. I smiled at the complement.
"NO!" yelled Pops catching both of our attentions. "Please…please Jack she is my daughter." He was cut off by Jack.
"Tony, Tony, Tony." He chuckled." You and I both know that she is not your real daughter. You're much too old, and the lack of women in your life proves it for me anyway. Your taste I must say is excellent. She's going to be a beautiful woman when she grows up." He winked at me, and I now was scared, something was wrong. Pops was silent and stiff.
"You know what Alex?" Jack the pale-face asked me. I shook my head. "Most little girls I meet scream when they see my teeth. Not you, your not afraid of anything are you, sweetheart?" His voice sounded venomous now I tried to get off his lap. He held me tight.
My breathing got heavy but true fear failed to take hold. "POPS," I whined loud, "I don't like this pale-face! Tell him to let me go!" Jack now started laughing.
I was looking at Pops frozen where he stood his fists clutched tightly at his sides his head bent. I turned to the laughing Jack and balled up my tiny fist. Without thinking I punched him square in the face. I heard Pops gasp and take a step forward. Hands tightly gripped around my arms hoisting me in the air. My legs dangling as I stared at the now pissed pale-face. Now I started to get scared. I kicked my feet and demanded he put me down. He shook his head no and smirked evilly at me.
"Jack…please she is just eight…" Pops pleaded.
"Tony I have no intention in harming her. No intention at all." He grinned bigger. Pops sighed a relief, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"I do wonder what kind of woman she will be when grown." Jack stated coolly as I gave up struggling tears cascading down my little-girl cheeks. Pops said nothing; I swear he wasn't even breathing.
Jack cradled me in his arms placing my tired head on his shoulder telling me to hush. "I respect you, Tony. Because of this respect for you I will give you an opportunity to talk about her future."
I remember nothing after this. I fell asleep in Jacks arms exhausted. Pops told me my fate the next day. After he died Jack would come looking for me. There was nothing we could do. Jack was powerful in Boston, far too powerful. He was Pops first customer. And Pops had helped him expand his coven and territory. I was marked as his property. The sick fuck.
That wasn't the last I saw of Jack either. When he came with work for us, he insisted that I was the one to take the case. I delivered his prey, killed his enemies and other horrible things to remind me that I was his. To ensure I knew that eventually, one day he wouldn't have to pay Pops to see me under his command anymore. He even insisted twice, once when I was fourteen, and once when I was sixteen to stand in the room and receive my orders. Just so he could see what I looked like. So he could see if I was living up to his expectations of me. Other than that he never spoke to me and I never talked to him. That was probably for the best.