Make a killing (Merrick)

[lazarus]

Lazarus inhaled deeply, his hands resting on the cool brick wall behind him. Despite the countless times he had been in such a situation he just couldn't get over the nerves that were racking his thin frame , the knowledge that in about five minuets time he would be auctioned off to a possible monster. Closing his eyes Lazarus pressed his body back further into the wall, the handcuffs around his wrists digging into his flesh all the more. They had been tightened much to tight, especially since it was more than obvious that Lazarus couldn't fight himself out of a plastic bag, never mind face the million guards and so escape was not an option. But he didn't mind, the sharp stinging pain in his wrists being a welcome distraction from the thoughts running through his head. There was however an upside to all this and he had to think of the positives, he could be heading towards a nicer master or mistress. His last had been particularly ruthless and he wasn't sad to see the back of her, maybe the next would be better.

It was nearly his time to be auctioned off, like an antique but far less valuable. The males never did sell as well as the females, mainly due to certain sexual variables but Lazarus didn't care about his worth, not like he got any of the money. Biting his lip he looked around the room, taking in all the slaves being auctioned off with him. There was quite a lot of them and considering this kind of thing was held weekly it just showed that it was big buisness, hundreds of people probably being sold as slaves, a depressing thought really.

The doors opened and one of the gorilla looking guards came and dragged the female in front of Lazarus out, ignoring her protests and pleas. It was sick really and depraved, how people could treat others in this way and Laz hated it. Moving forward slightly before leaning back on the wall he eyed the guard on the door, not sensing the slightest bit of emotion from him. Did these people not feel guilty for what they where doing, did the terrorised look on the female slaves not do anything to crack into their emotions. Noticing that the guard was now glaring at him Lazarus looked away to the opposite wall, not realising he had been staring at the guy.

Clutching his hands into fists to try and ease off his nerves the slightest he heard the tell tale sounds behind the door that the previous slave had been bought. Here we go he mentally prepared himself hearing the sound of the guard coming to the door, ready to drag him out. The door burst open and the guy just grabbed him by the chain around his neck, dragging him out without a word. It was so buisness like and as Lazarus stumbled, quickening his pace to avoid being dragged he wondered how much money they earned. Then he was out on the stage, bright lights making it nearly impossible for him to see the audience, which was just as well.

The rough hand gripping his collar dropped and he was left standing there, feeling completely stupid. The auctioneer listing off his 'positive traits', please he wasn't all that great. He doubted if it wasn't for his regenerative traits he would be bought at all, as he had little other use. Squinting at the lights he just decided to grim and bare it, hope that one day he would never have to go through this again. After all there has to be a point when nobody would pay money for him, what would happen then. He assumed death but the optimistic side of him refused to believe that.

[deviantdreamer]

Cyanide. A veritable feeding ground for the inhuman species of the city, whether they sought to purchase a slave or enjoy a drink at the well stocked bar. Merrick moved through the crowds of individuals with relative ease. More than one thought to ensnare the handsome vampire with a flirtatious smile or the more than obvious press of a lush body, at least until his pale artic gaze landed upon them. Cold, hard, indomitable…his stare sent those treated to it scurrying in the opposite direction. He hadn’t come to this blasted place to find a willing partner to sate his lust with. Rather, his goal was the stage. The ancient found himself in need of a decent slave-the last had broken far to easily. But then simple humans tended to be less sturdy. Pity, that.

He found himself at the front of the crowd after a bit of skillful maneuvering. His tall frame settled there, standing out starkly against the people at his back. The vampire exuded an air of frigid dominance, and age old power that he wore as easily as a second skin. No doubt whichever one he decided to purchase, he would get. One way, or the other. Even if it meant divesting another slave owner of his or her prize. Death came so easily, to those that got in his way.

Merrick stood silent through the auctioning off of a female. Her fear was a rancid stench that stank upon the air, even in this crowd. And he curled his lip ever so slightly. Pathetic sullied lamb. She was a lush creature, beautiful despite her situation. Yet he had no interest what so ever in her. This one was another weak thing, with little that made her special in the midst of a great many. He wouldn’t have wasted his money upon her person. She would have been little more than a broken toy in no more than a few days. What he desired was something a bit more It took no more than a few moments, before a rather young werewolf purchased her. The leering expression upon his ruddy features already hinting at what he planned for the female upon the stage.

A quiet, eager lull settled over the crowd of potential buyers and curiosity-goers, as everyone awaited the next stage. Not unlike jackals waiting for there next meal, eager and barking and more than ready to fight over whatever was pulled onto the stage as if he or she were scrap meat. The ancient dark haired vampire was far calmer, ignoring those around him with the same frigid disdain he felt every time he entered Cyanide, or most places for that matter. But then the lights returned to the stage and in mere moments a new slave stood there, on display for all eager eyes.

A hybrid, lycanthrope and human. He knew that before the auctioneer had begun to speak. An individual’s scent told so much, though most fools forgot to even acknowledge it. This one was tall, thin…rather lanky of build, with a bit of muscle at his chest that hinted of hard work. The tell tale signs of one that had been a slave his entire life. Even more so with the scars that littered his form. Merrick observed the male standing upon the stage, without so much as a complaint or a plea unlike the woman before. Even before the hybrid’s attributes had begun to be read off, his decision was made. Though the regenerative traits did stand out and indeed interest him. This one wouldn’t be quite so breakable.

Now…he simply had to wait for bidding to begin.

[lazarus]

Lazarus had been through this process plenty of times over the years, so he knew the routine nearly off by heart. All the steps and the speech that the auctioneer gave being pretty much the same every time. Occasionally they shook it up a slight amount but it was rare and so Lazarus knew exactly what he was going to have to go through. It was calming in a way, not having the mystery looming over him, so he managed to keep his cool on the stage, counting the steps to help him survive it. But when the auctioneer turned and gave him a bloodthirsty grin, deep black in his eyes he couldn't help but try and swallow the lump in his throat. The guy was obviously a demon and the aura of evil radiated off him, the flush on his skin giving Lazarus the creeps. He always hated demons, they where definitely the most intimidating of the races, but luckily he had never had the displeasure of being owned by one.

He considered backing away when the auctioneer came closer but he knew he wouldn't get very far and so held his ground. It was time for the 'demonstration', something to try and get him to sell. They did it to all slaves that needed a little push to be sold, mainly the males, and it involved showing off their best selling points. Which unfortunately for him was his regeneration. He just begged for the auctioneer to go easy on him, or at least consider the audience. Regardless of whether or not it healed who would buy an injured slave. But luckily the auctioneer was in his mindset and grabbing the palm of his hand sliced a shallow cut along its length. Lazarus bit his lip at the pain and no more, he had worse in the past and so the pain was more than bearable. The cut was small and he could already feel the fibres knitting back together in his skin and soon enough the wound was even smaller, healing fast. The auctioneer showed this to the crowd, proof that this slave did in fact do what they said he did.

Then the auction began, people in the crowd shouting out numbers, the noises becoming all jumbled up so he couldn't distinguish them, and eventually he gave up. Until he heard the auctioneer shout "Sold" and the nerves came back tenfold. This was it, time to meet his new owner. He felt unwilling to go, and was literally shoved by the auctioneer into the hands of the guard that dragged him on,then pulled over to the part of the stage with his new master. As he was pulled to the side the harsh lights no longer blared on him so he could catch sight of the crowd, disgusted at their animal like jeers as the newest slave was dragged on. But he had bigger worries, in the form of a male vampire. His race given away by his deathly pale skin. Lazarus wasn't surprised as he was always sold on to vampires as they where interested in the fact that he was like a walking blood bank. But he didn't like the look of this vampire, its sadistic tendencies obvious even as it stood there, smirk on its lips and black eyes staring at him hungrily. He even had a lead at the ready, a thick leather one that hung in his hand almost like he was going to use it as a weapon. Lazarus could immediately tell that this was not going to be fun and almost wished to be back with his last mistress, better the enemy you know after all.

But what was done was done and as his new master handed over the payment, the lead was clipped onto his metal collar and it was finished, he was the vampires. The vampire turned to talk to some others and then without even acknowledging Lazarus' presence aside from tugging on his lead, moved to leave the club. With one last look at the stage and the hungry crowd still gathered around Lazarus followed, hoping the lead wasn't a regular thing as he hated it. They made it outside and he inhaled deeply, the cool night air a welcome change from the humid sweaty atmosphere of the club. It was also the first time he had been outside in days, stuck in dark rooms with other slaves waiting to be sold. His new master lead him down one of the small and empty side streets, not saying a word. Which made the guy all the more intimidating, Lazarus would prefer getting insulted to silence, he even felt like saying something but knew it wouldn't go down well. So he just followed silently, trying to enjoy being outside and the night air before he was dragged into whatever hell this new master was going to drag him through.

[deviantdreamer]

There was a sort of hopelessness in the entirety of the situation, really. At least on the slaves end. For those in this unending game that played the part of ‘Master’ it was an endless array of amusement. Merrick found himself vaguely amused at the sound of the jeers and the near fighting determination of the others around him for the male on the stage. At least once his skill had been proven. But his voice didn’t speak out through it all, he had his own plan. His own way of doing things. Pity the wretch who managed to purchase him. And perhaps pity the slave, who found himself in the ancient’s grasp.

‘Sold’ rang out through Cyanide, as the demon auctioneer finally accepted a bid after a ferocious struggle. And it was done so with a sort of dark glee, that said the male was entirely happy for the price he’d gotten for the hybrid with his regenerative abilities. He watched apathetically as the slave was quite literally shoved from the stage. The male would have been lucky to not have been injured. But then, it probably didn’t matter over much with his natural abilities, as it were. Quite useful, the ability to regenerate. He had little doubt that it would come in handy. His mouth coiled into a cruel smile, pale eyes glittering a moment…the sudden expression briefly malicious and making anyone near him back away in surprise.

That dark expression grew as he spotted the one who had purchased the slave. A vampire. The male was large, with a particularly sadistic glitter in his pitch black gaze. Absolutely perfect. There was a rush of pleasure that purred through his being-anticipation at the thought of carrying out his plan. This one was young, but that didn’t mean Merrick wouldn’t allow himself to enjoy his death any less. It mattered little that he was one of his own kind. Not when he was in the way of something he desired. And what better way to get the slave for free? It was perfect really.

Pale blue eyes glittered; a predator’s gaze…far to full of delight at the situation that had played out to perfection thus far. He watched the male begin to leave, noted the way he tugged the clearly unhappy slave along. The hybrid didn’t like the lead, and he would remember that. Merrick awaited for the vampire and the newly purchased male to leave the club before he followed outside. It was nothing to delve into his various powers to use the discipline Body of Spirit. He burst into mist that traveled rapidly along the wind, up over the buildings, following the scent of the slave.

He found them, walking along a side street. It was quiet, and empty. And absolutely perfect. The ancient took himself down, until he could reform without warning a few feet in front of the black eyed vampire. Pale eyes glittered, and his smile…was artic at best. “I’ve come to divest of you the slave, youngling.” Merrick said, voice almost congenial and of course…polite. For the time being in any case. He always got what he wanted, and at the moment his interest lay in the thin hybrid tethered to the other just in front of him.

[lazarus]

Lazarus kept in pace with his new master, walking slightly behind as not to attract attention. If he just followed quietly and out of sight, just maybe he would manage the rest of the night unscathed. The vampire was walking briskly, either in a rush to get him home or feeling the uneasy atmosphere in the empty street. Because even if the vampire didn't feel it Lazarus certainly did, chill creeping down his neck and the feeling of being watched increasing in his mind. He looked around slightly, seeing only the empty street, dark shadows cast across the pavement and road from the various buildings and objects. Pressing his lips together tightly he ignored the feeling of unease building up, the sense that something was not right, and kept walking, looking ahead as he did. He was probably just nervous of his new master, but to be honest his previous nerves had ebbed to just being a annoying feeling at the bottom of his stomach. He had been sold and now whatever would happen would happen, he accepted that fact easily and just resigned himself to it, nerves were pointless at this time.

The vampire gave a sharp tug on the lead as he sped up suddenly, tearing Lazarus from his thoughts as he choked slightly at the sudden tug of his neck, instantly speeding up to match the pace. It seemed that the vampire had sensed the strange feeling around, trying to hurry up to the safety of his own home. Lazarus could feel him fidgeting as vibrations of movement travelled down the lead to his collar and he could sense the fear. He was finding it rather enjoyable, actually hoping for a moment that someone or something would jump out from the shadows and tear his new master apart. He smirked to himself slightly, eyes travelling over the figure in front of him and analysing his posture and appearance. Seems this vampire was all intimidating and high and mighty around his friends such as the people in the club, but on his own he was defenceless and knew it. Fidgeting with the cuffs on his wrists Lazarus decided maybe this wouldn't be so bad, the vamp reminded him of a previous master. A spineless guy that only ever treat him like dirt when friends were over and he could live with that.

The breeze picked up suddenly and Lazarus shivered, looking to the side and so when his master stopped dead in his tracks Laz nearly walked into him. Finally noticing what had caused his master to stop Lazarus eyed the other vampire curiously. The first thing he noticed were the eyes, the pale blue eyes that seemed to be full of menace and then the smile that dealt the same message far more powerfully. The other vampire was definitely an old vampire, the power it must have taken to appear like that only something that came with age. He almost felt sorry for his master, knowing that this other vamp would be able to tear him apart without much effort. But when the elder vampire finally spoke in a polite yet demanding manor he feared for himself. Why this other had taken an interest in him he had no idea, but the artic smile and aura of power was more than intimidating.

His master bristled next to him and Lazarus looked at him quickly before settling his gaze back on the elder vampire, both too much in awe and intimidated to look away for too long. But even in the slight glance he could tell his master was going to make a stupid mistake, too self absorbed and even vain perhaps to back down. With one step forward he opened his mouth, spitting out defiance and aggression towards the other vampire. Moving into a defensive posture his master bared his teeth, seemingly willing to fight if need be. Moving as far away as the lead would allow Lazarus just watched the situation get more intense, knowing that it wasn't going to end well, for his new master especially. Maybe he had been a slave too long but jumping into a confrontation with somebody obviously stronger that you never seemed to be a good idea.

[deviantdreamer]

Fear. It hovered around the other vampire like a cloak. A foul smelling stench that rolled and surged unchecked despite the apparent would-be bravado. Pathetic, useless creature. Merrick allowed himself a moment to wonder what had happened to the blood of his kind to breed such pathetic beasts. This was no vampire, but rather a quivering worm he intended fully to squish beneath the heal of his boot. His smile grew and fangs glinted sharply beneath the light of the streetlamp like miniature daggers within his mouth.

But then the fledgling decided to open his mouth. And almost instantly the smile curled down into an expression of disapproval. The sensual curve pulling into a thin deliberate line; his expression of one who despised disobediance. When Merrick gave a command, he expected it to be heeded to. Like an ancient commander who would accept nothing less. It prickled in his aura; a tangible thing. Sharp and growing sharper with every agressive defiant word. The bared teeth, perhaps the very last straw.

Artic blue eyes hardened and grew colder, narrowing to little slits framed in an inky fall of dark lashes. Vicious temper rearing its head the moment the young thing showed his idiocy. He hadn't an ounce of patience for stupidity. Particularly in those that should very well know better. There kind were supposed to be known for there skill at self preservation. Perhaps worm had been to generous a description. At the very least they knew when to back down, particularly when given warning to do so.

He didn't even waste another of his precious gifts on the wretch. Merrick moved toward the other vampire like a great cat stalking its prey. "Children should mind there manners and obey there elders..." His dark voice snapped out; as harsh and punishing as a barbed tailed whip. "I deplore bad manners..." It didn't seem to faze him that he was in striking range for the other. The ancient wasn't at all concerned or afraid of the doltish creature.

Far quicker than the mortal eye, his hand came up against the younger vampire. The back of it contacting hard enough with the others jaw it wouldn't merely knock him to the ground but it would as well break bone. The rings adorning his fingers leaving shallow bleeding wells in pale mmortal flesh. And it was done without so much as batting a lash; condescending sneer settling upon unearthly handsome featyures. Looking entirely disgusted with the display the other had given.

[lazarus]

Lazarus couldn't draw his eyes away from the other vampire, watching as his eyes moved to slits, the anger building obvious. Lazarus swallowed slightly, those cold blue eyes still intimidated him but he was still in awe having never been in the presence of an elder vampire before. He was completely different to any vampire he had met or been owned by, far less human and more a completely different breed, the true breed of vampire and it was rather impressive. Watching each graceful yet purposeful step forward, menace obvious in each step Lazarus felt that he was watching from a distance, none of them even paying attention to him, the only thing keeping him in the equation being the leash. If only the two would get so preoccupied with each other that he could escape, make a break for it while they tore each other apart. But unfortunately even if that did happen he imagined that the elder vampire would tear his new master apart so quick that he would barely get three steps away before he got caught. So he just watched, finding at least some enjoyment out of the whole situation since he didn't see any harm to himself coming out of it. It was the most drama he had seen in a long while, a welcome change from the dim warehouse he had spent the last few days in.

As the elders voice rang out again, far more venomous as it sliced through the silence Lazarus felt a chill run down his spine again. It felt like the kind of derogatory remarks that would be said to a slave, full of disgust. It was strange to see someone that was not a slave being spoken to like that, strange but yet oddly very enjoyable. He couldn't help but smirk slightly, feeling like this was almost a kind of revenge. Besides both vampires where far too preoccupied to even notice him.

Although he was watching intently to the two the hit came so fast it was a surprise, and it was all he could do to keep himself standing as his master was thrown down to the ground. As he kept himself as far apart as possible the jerk as his master fell, dragging the lead still clenched in his fist with him pulled him sideways and he stumbled before gaining his footing again, neck throbbing as he regained himself. He was getting sick of the lead, getting dragged this way and that and wished his master would just drop it, keep occupied with the fight instead of him.

Looking quickly at the elder vampire, taking in the disgusted sneer Lazarus then turned his attention to his master. He was sprawled in an undignified manner on the floor , one hand wiping at the blood on his mouth. The vampire sprang to his feet, the embarrassment swelling in him making him all the more angry and also all the more reckless.Frowning Lazarus didn't appreciate the tug on his neck again as he was used as a helping hand to get up off the ground. Baring his teeth again his master moved forward and Lazarus had to admit it was a horrible sight. His jaw was obviously broken, skewed to the side as he opened his mouth in a snarl. The fangs once milky white where stained with blood, making him look like he had been feeding recently. Starting to make a move away again Lazarus wished his master would stop being so foolish, or at least not drag him into the mess with him. His master turned to him for a second and Lazarus saw the pitch black of his eyes, he thought they where dark before but now they were pitch black, dilated through anger and even the blood lust from his own blood. Lazarus recoiled slightly out of habit before the vampire turned back to the other, hands scrambling presumably to get a weapon.[color=white "Your going to regret that"

[/color] his master spat out, speech slurring as his yet to heal jaw made conversation hard. It was..to say the least not delivered in the most threatening manner, the vampire not even sounding sure of the words himself. Lazarus was almost disappointed in his new master, because that quick hit looked like it hurt a lot, and he didn't particularly want to be at the wrong end of it. So he was kind of routing for his master, if not because it looked like it would be a easier life being owned by him than the elder. But as his master lunged forward, dagger aiming right at the elders chest Lazarus realised that he was going to have to get used to such hits.[/blockquote]

[deviantdreamer]

Merrick was, in a word...irritated. And irritation, was quite near as bad a mood for him to be in as perhaps boredom. Had the younger vampire simply obeyed, he would have let the insect go. But now he had the urge to smash him, much like a child might smash a firefly to get at the glowing insides. It was a primative, lusty urge that drug a low growl rumbling from his chest. The sound filled with blatant displeasure. Nearly beastial in quality for having come from such an elegant form. Perhaps it would have been an odd sound from a younger creature but Merrick hadn't been human in a very, very long time. And was every bit the predator. That irritation only increased the more the slave was jerked around. Despite having not paid for him, already he'd decided that Lazarus was his. Merrick hadn't a desire for his own property to become damaged. Lest he be the cause of it.

His features showed little emotion, as he observed the vampire struggling for a weapon of some sort. Copious blood stained the street red, and it teased his senses the way a mouse might tease a cat. But he hadn't a desire to taste this pathetic creature. As if drinking from the younger creature would taint him in some matter. "I will regret it?" The ancient began slowly, a dark laugh bubbling from the depths of his chest. Laden heavily with amusement, and menacing promise. "How incredibly original..." Mused words, accompanied with a lazy roll of broad shoulders clad in pristine dark fabrics. Managing to appear both deceivingly nonchalant and every bit the immortal statue, carved from living marble...all at once.

Cold unwavering orbs watched with an arched brow as the other vampire lunged toward him. The dagger glinting within the light of the street. Merrick had been a warrior in life, during a time that was no lost from the memory of mortals. Well before history had begun to be recorded in written word. Well before these modern disputes, and the troubles the last few centuries had brought the world. Even in life, such a pathetic excuse of a weapon, with a lack of proper balance and poor make...wielded in such an ungainly manner, would have done little to him. Save perhaps to cause irritation.

Merrick waited until the very last moment to step asside, one long artful hand extending to grasp the vampire's wrist. Hard enough that bone crushed with the touch, while his other extended to grip within his shorn hair. "Filthy weak insect..you shame our kind." His voice rumbled out with a texture similar to black velvet. No pause was given to speak, or offer up explanation. Battle at the moment held little interest.

Fingers dug into the top of his skull for a better grip, before he ripped his head clean from his body. A sickening garbled crunch that came before the other creature had time to even contemplate pulling away. And far more gruesome than human versions of movies and books made it out to be. Not an ounce of emotion crossed his features as he did so, seeming for all the world unfazed.

Lazarus's leash would naturally be dropped with the instantaneous death. But the slave wouldn't have made it if he attempted to run away. Merrick told him so in a single meaningful flick of his cold blue eyes. Even as the corpse began to fade away into a bevy of ash upon the night wind.

[lazarus]

The next few moments, or in his masters case the last few moments, seemed to move in slow motion. It was like watching a wreckage and Lazarus stood just on the border, watching the events with a sickly fascination as they slowly unfolded, not wanting to watch but unable to turn away. His master was done for, that was clear from the moment he pulled out a weapon if not from the first time he opened his mouth. But Lazarus felt no pity for the vampire, after all the vamp had just bought him to use him in whatever unimaginable ways. But the lack of intelligence it takes to try and fight someone so obviously stronger than yourself just to avoid being ashamed, and many other personality traits he had viewed over the short period in its company made Lazarus not respect the being in the slightest amount. The elder vampire however had his complete respect, however scared he was of him. The power and confidence the elder showed, mixed with a mysterious element still had him fascinated. It was like watching a great predator in the wild, amazed and transfixed with its obvious strength and agility although scared, knowing that it could rip you apart limb from limb in seconds.

Lazarus stepped forward as his master lunged, unwilling to get closer to the fray but knowing he would just be dragged in by the lead otherwise. He could hear the echoing snarl rumbling in his masters throat, the posture and lunging signs of aggression. But all Lazarus could smell was fear, the blood in the air awakening the slight lycan in his blood, increasing his senses all the more. The sweat and hormones radiating off his masters body and the louder heart beat all gave an indication that the vampire knew he was being foolish, that he was going to meet his end. Maybe this was the whole death by honour thing he had heard so much about over past masters, he probably had lower priorities but surely life would be such a better prize than the pride of not having backed down. But he was just a slave, knowing nothing about all these complex affairs and so just watched on, already resigned to the fact he would have a new master in the space of less than an hour, surely a record.

The last moments of his masters life moved especially slowly, and Lazarus just watched opened mouthed. He watched as each muscle in the neck was ripped apart, the tendons stretching and snapping as the bone was wrenched apart and the head pulled free. He nearly threw up, used to blood and violence but not in such a sudden or violent way. But even though the feeling of sickness grew inside him he didn't even gag, feeling too shocked to even move. He had seen a dead body before, hell he had seen lots but it was nothing like this. For instance they had been killed out of lack of nourishment, or tortured slowly which meant a lot of blood but no beheading. Most off all though, they had all been slaves, to see someone who was not a slave being killed was a shock to the system, he had always believed masters where untouchable.

The cold blue eyes of the elder vampire finally rested on him, for the first time in the entire night that he knew of and Lazarus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the gaze was so intense. The corpse of the vampire, now mere dust didn't attract his attention much as he stared at the other vampire unwaveringly. He was well aware of the slack on his lead now, the chain dangling uselessly from his neck, the hand that held it having now gone. But he didn't even try to move , wise enough to know better and to tell the truth he was scared of the other being. So instead he directed his attention away from the cold eyes, looking down to his chained wrists only to find his body was covered in the splashes of his late masters blood, he had obviously been too close.

He swallowed a lump in his throat he didn't even know he had then, looking back towards the elder vampire as he contemplated what to do. He was this vampires property now, that element of the equation was clear but Lazarus had no idea how to deal with this situation, used to just being dragged off at auction. Over the years he found that each master seemed to prefer a certain level of respect, from having to bow in their presence to a simple lowering of the eyes or a 'yes master' or even 'yes my lord'. He was clueless to what this vampire would like, and really needed to get on his good side, the violent capabilities of the vampire clear.

Lazarus could feel each muscle in his body straining to run away, to get away from the vampire and the blood and the danger. But his brain was working in the opposite direction, smart enough to bypass survival instincts that would in this case be the other side of helpful. Instead he took a few steps forward, however hesitant they might have been towards his new master, eyes fixed firmly on the ground below in case eye contact did cause offence. Then nearer he just stood, well aware of the ash that had not yet blown away next to him as he waited for the other to say or do something. He had no idea how to interact with this new master and so just kept quiet, not wanting to risk anything until he knew the boundaries. Because if the vampire was capable of such destruction who knew what other sadistic tendencies it may be capable of, better to stay as far on the good side as possible.

[deviantdreamer]

He watched the goings on with a relatively vast amount of apathy. The disgusting crunch of bone, the gory squelch of blood and tendon. It didn't faze him in the slightest, anymore than the ash the vampire's body faded into upon his death. Merrick hadn't an ounce of pity for the worm, and found neither enjoyment nor upset in the beings death. There had been no honor in it; Merrick hadn't fought so it really couldn't have been considered battle. He'd simply killed. And quite effeciantly.

For the first time he really looked at the slave. Took in his appearance, and the obvious indecision that warred with his mind. It was natural to desire to flee when faced with a greater predator, and that particularly base part of him was pleased with that reaction. The hybrid had reason to fear, and enough sense to know not to give into the flight or fight instinct. It was a plus on the slave's part, considering Merrick's absolute hatred for stupidity.

Eyes averted like a proper pet, body posture respectfully submissive. The ancient was further cemented in his decision the other was to be his. A hand extended, long pale fingers wrapping withing Lazarus's hair to tug his head back so that he could slide his gaze across his features. "Such a good pet..." He mused, "Come now...We're going home." There was a command in his voice, a demand for him to follow of his own will.

His free hand unclipped the useless leash from the exposed collar before dropping it on the ground. He wouldn't use the device, unless Lazarus either didn't obey or attempted to flee. Merrick expected compliance in all things; treating even something as simple as this the way a conquering war Lord might.

[lazarus]

As long fingers threaded between the dark locks of his hair Lazarus' breath hitched in his throat. For a moment he thought that was it, he was done for, head ripped off as easy as the vampire just beforehand. His mind quickly ran through his previous masters death, thoughts of how it would have felt invading his mind. There had been plenty of wishful thoughts about his death that had ran through his mind over the years, but now, with it lingering so close Lazarus realised how much he actually didn't want to die. Especially not like that, whatever healing powers he had could never fix a missing head. He fought with the urge to clench his eyes shut tight, block out what was happening and find peace in his own mind. But he managed to keep them open, wincing slightly at a blow he was expecting.

His heart was beating quickly in his chest, the close proximity unnerving him. His eyes locked with the vampires for as long as he could manage, sliding across his features before looking off to the side, really at nothing at all. He hated keeping eye contact, the nerves it gave him probably beaten in over the years and the ice cold blue eyes of his master where no exception. The words sunk in slowly, the knowledge he was being called a pet not lost on him. That was a first and it made him slightly curious, wondering exactly what his master was actually going to have planned for him. He swallowed, dry throat protesting as he tried to nod slightly in the grasp of his master at his next words. Lazarus instantly felt stupid for the slight nod at the command, but unsure of what else to do. He was unsure if his master wanted him to speak or keep quiet, the later probably which was fine with him. He had no idea what to say, which would often mean everything that came out of his mouth would be stupid rambling, no doubt causing him to irritate the vampire.

The unclipping of the leash actually meant a lot to Lazarus, seeing the positive in such a small movement. He was grateful, immensely pleased at not having to be dragged around and the motion made him feel slightly more at ease with his new master. Although the fear was still there, probably more than he had ever had with a previous master, and nothing had really happened to him yet. But then again this was the only master he had ever witnessed kill another being that was not a slave, the shock from that still making his hands shake slightly. But even then, fingers twisted in his hair, the danger of having his head wrenched off as easy as a bottle cap by his master Lazarus was intrigued. He wondered what home would consist of, figuring it would be somewhere expensive and extravagant, he couldn't imagine anything less from the vampire. Risking another quick glance into those blue eyes before looking away again, he waited for his master to take the lead, head in the direction of his new home.