A Vampire's Sweet Revenge

Stretching out her lean muscular form atop a tree branch, Maeve Deimatov huffs loudly as she sits and watches and listens to her surroundings. Looking behind her, she punches the trunk of the tree with a closed tan fur covered fist, the tree shudders under the impact, as her eyes see the tall dark castle in the background. Crouching upon the branch as she moves her hands before her, turning her gaze back to the surroundings before her.

Tilting her head to the side as a small woodland creature scurries past below her, she starts to mutter to herself.. "Stupid blood bags. Making me stand guard all the time. Who would be after them? What makes my liege's, liege so friggin special? If I wasn't bound by one I would let the sun take them both in the day." Digging her claws into the branch as she thinks more and more about them. "They think they are better then me, HA, I have best of both worlds and strong as hell. If the binding of blood didn't make Lorcan Keegan have hold over me, I would soooo show him who is better. And... and.... ugh, that pale assed devil, Bodicae, if she wasn't as old as dirt, I would too show her what a hybrid can do" trailing off into the distant forest as she keeps talking to herself.

Maeve curls up on the branch, ears folding against her head as her blonde locks fall around the frame of her face, golden pelt shines softly in the moon light trickling threw the leaves and branches as her lids start to close. "A nap won't hurt. Like they will ever know I took one. They could care less what I do, as long as I stay small and quiet. Stupid vampires" she says as she starts to drift off.

"Snap" a twig brakes as Maeve's eyes widen to the sound. Her eyes come into focus as she sees a large looming fur covered figure over her body, perching on the branch, the stick in his large paws near her face. A curling grin crosses is large sharp toothed jaw as her eyes widen in both fear and shock as she didn't hear anything until he broke the stick in half. "Oh shit" escapes her lips as his paws take hold of her and she falls into darkness.

Looking out into the deep night sky, Bodicae trains her thoughts, focusing on one thing and zoning out all others. Looking up to the shimmer of the moon and the twinkle of the stars, feeling the presence of the one behind her, crouched and looking upon her long crimson locks. The thought of rage comes to pass, eyes narrow as hands clench into fists, and her nostrils flare open and closed as her teeth grind together. The still air seems to stir around her as she rages on.

Breathing in and out slowly, more of a habit than anything, as he has no need to breathe, he looks upon the tall Amazonian figure before him. Ice blue eyes trace the lush curves of her body as they stop at the best feature that grace her, her heart-shaped ass, the roundness and the arch of her cheeks as they reach the peak of her roundness. Grinning wickedly as he remembers how lovely her pale flesh brightened under his hand, how her body took each and every hit, and her soft screams and whimpers that lead to much louder amusing sounds. Shaking himself from the trance he had fallen into as he was to be focusing his energy on emotions and nothing but. How he despised her, how he loathed her. One day he will place her under his boot and show just how powerful he is. "Thinks she can make me a pet, I don't think so. She needs to come out the dark ages and see that men don't bow to women. Women are the lesser of the two" he thinks to himself as he starts to clear his mind and gaze at her long red locks.

With a curl of her lip and a ease of her back, she returns to her normal state. Looking back at him, studying his demeanor, blood red eyes look into all the lines of his face, the curve of a lip, the arch of a brow, the lines of his shoulders, to the stance of the crouch in which he is in. “Did you key in, my child?” she asks him, watching him intently. Seeing is pale blue eyes clearing as the clouds dissipate from his concentration. “It was faint, my liege, but I believe it was rage.” 

Clapping her hands together as she smiles a wicked grin, she says joyfully… “Indeed you are moving along nicely. To be able to feel what your maker feels takes years. This is a great skill to learn my child. To be able to tell when your liege in distress or to feel how uncomfortable they are in a meeting of another clan is key to help anticipate moves or actions quicker in any situation. Once you learn to use this it will also allow you to find your maker even when you don’t know where they went. Our blood bond is strong, stronger than most, but this too will make it stronger. I can at my whim, call on this skill without a thought to anyone I have made.
Moving closer to him, she looks into his eyes, deep within, to see how much of his humanity is still clinging to him. She smirks, seeing he is still trying to keep some and how fun it will be to break him of it.

Bodicea’s eyes widen as she tilts her head up and to the side. “RUN!” she cries out, smelling the beasts and hearing their sounds from far off. “Run? But why? I do not hear anything and Maeve is on the watch, my liege” he says with a hint of smugness.

Turning around, she closes the distance between them and lifts him off the roof by his collar. “Do not second guess me, just do it! And Maeve is either, taken, a part of this, or DEAD! NOW GO!” dropping him to the roof as she runs and leaps off the edge, flipping a few times before landing on her feet. Claws retract and her fangs grow as a glow within her ruby pierced eyes look about the area. Knowing they are closer now, she looks about for an easy escape. A howl in the distance gives her the sign just how close they really are. Her keen eyesight spots the shine off a few thick coats of the beasts barreling through the trees. The only escape is the ocean waters behind. Running towards the sands, she stops dead in her tracks as she feels him in pain. Her child was attacked by them. Irritated that he allowed himself to be caught and knowing that he wasn’t their target and that they will just end his life unless they got what they wanted, she turns around and starts to storm the beast emerging from the trees.

Watching Bodicea leap off the side of the roof, he fixes his collar and moves to the other side and leaps off, landing on his feet as he lifts his head looking off in the distance where his child was to be. "She's paranoid, if we were in danger Maeve would have alarmed us in some way" he says aloud as he places his hands in his front pockets and starts to stroll into the forest. Lorcan freezes in his tracks as his hands fall to his sides, the tiny hairs rise at the nap of his neck as he hears them. "She was right? What of Maeve? My liege" he thinks as he his surrounded by five lycans. They leap upon him as they smell her scent upon his body, incapacitating him and dragging his body away to join the half breed.


A large silver pelted beast, ten feet tall with a long snout, razor sharp teeth, and piercing dark eyes comes in her path. Large paws with talon like claws mere feet from her position lift and flex as he stands at the ready. A low growling voice escapes the beasts’ muzzle… “We have finally found you, Bodicea.” Crouched and at the ready, she tilts her head to the side, furrowing her brows as she looks at him… “Who is that, lycan?” she asks as she studies his every move, biding her time, before more show up.

The lycan lurches forward as she counters and steps back… “Do not play coy with me, meat sack. You may change names and alter your appearance, but those eyes never change” he spits out at her, a line of drool falls from his canine.

He howls, head tossing up to the sky as his tall frame extends making him grow another two or three feet, sending out the signal that he has located her. Outraged with his ignorance, she moves swiftly and without fail to the fur-covered beast. Lifting her hand and making one swift precise move, leaping up into the air and slicing across his throat, landing a few feet behind him; shock goes over him as he realizes he cannot make a sound. She licks her claws as blood drips from them. Her back turned away at the non-threatening animal as he falls to his knees. The lycan turns his head, the look of shock and disbelief upon his face as he sees her. His head falls back as she severed his throat halfway through; his body falls to the ground.

Looking around, she sees and hears the pack moving towards his location. She concentrates on her child to find his location. Fury fills her body as they have removed him from this location.
Leaping and clawing and biting through the pack as she tries to make her way to a safe location; flesh and fur flying as blood spatters the trees and foliage, screams, howls, and whimpers of pain fill the area. Eventually, after numerous lycans fall to her attacks, they change their tactics and overpower the only vampire there.

He awakes on a cold stone floor, wrists and ankles tied with garlic soaked ropes as a tall slender form stands before him. "Where is she?!" he asks him as he stands in the shadows. "Who are you looking for and why have you taken me? I have done nothing wrong." Lorcan spits out at him as he rises to his knees, snarling at him as his fangs retract and glisten in the dim lighting. The man moves from the shadows and brings his face mere inches from Lorcan's. "Your liege, young one, that is who I seek. Perhaps you need some persuasion my dear" he grins at him as a gloved hand takes up a cloth as his other hand moves to Lorcan's jaw, forcing it open. The man thrusts the cloth into his mouth; the garlic soaked cloth fills his mouth. Garlic slides down his throat as it starts to burn his insides. Writhing and spazing upon the cool stone floor as he tries screaming and pushing out the cloth with his tongue, making him scream and cry more, his tongue feeling like it was burning away as blood tears slide down his pale cheeks. Lorcan passes out from the excruciating pain.

Beaten and bloody, she awakes on a table, chained down with garlic soaked ropes; she takes in her surrounds, before making any noise. Seeing that she was in some type of dungeon, perhaps a castle or private residence, but defiantly out of ear range of any eavesdropping neighbors; walls and floor made of old stone and mortar as the ceiling is made of old weathered wooden planks. Dim lights of oil lamps flicker in the corners as shadows move across the surfaces of the room.  She spots Maeve in a nearby cell. Grinding her teeth together as she thinks… “Some watch dog. She will pay dearly for this.”

Licking her lips, she feels pain within her mouth and down her throat. Looking for her child for he is the source of her pain, she sees him at the foot of the table on the floor. Her eyes see why her mouth hurts; they gagged him with a cloth soaked in essence of garlic to make him suffer, falling unconscious from his torment.

Heavy footsteps move closer to her location. She counts three sets, one much lighter than the other two. The door opens. Two lycans enter the room, followed by a man. Not a man, a creature as herself. Knowing his smug face, she reels with rage and fury. “You could not be civil and come on your own accord, Baltar Torok.” You had to hire dogs and beasts to do your bidding? You coward!” laughing wickedly… “Or did you know that you would have been slain?”

They moved about her, looking down as she lies upon the table. Ripped clothes and dried blood where wounds have healed, cover her body.

“I do not fear you, my Queen” he says in a soft subtle voice. Looking over to the one on the floor, he motions to him with a small delicate hand… “One of your new pets, my Queen, or a toy for your amusement, he looks like I could have a bit of fun” moving over to him and kneeling down, taking out the gag and slicing his wrist, offering some of his blood to her unconscious child so his body will purge him of the garlic.

Waking, her child screams… “Raven, Raven Icechant!” looking around as he struggles.

Awakes feeling the chilled life force of an old being, drinking it in as he feels the burning sensation leaving his mouth and throat, Lorcan's brows furrow together as he tries to know who he is drinking from. It had not the same pull and taste of his maker. Hearing his words, his eyes jolt open as he tries to release himself from his grasp.

Baltar holds him close as he sets him on his knees… “He doesn’t even call you by the proper title, my Queen” brushing his raven locks from his face. “What has this world come to, were children don’t know how to respect their makers?” taking his cheeks into his hands as he squeezes tightly and hurtfully before releasing him.

Look of confusion goes over her childes face, struggling to get out of the bindings, only to scream out in pain as they cut into his wrists.

“I am not your Queen. Never have been; never will be. You will never be worthy to truly call me Queen" she spits out at him as she holds still so the ropes don’t cut into her ankles and wrists. “I did not make you. You destroyed your maker to pursue me. You’re crazy and not worthy to have this gift. Untie me and leave me in peace.

“Forgive me, Queen Bodicea, but I cannot. You will change your mind or die in the process. You will be mine and you will give me the information I seek” touching her cheek as she walks by, leaving the room. 

The lycans move to the table as they start to rip into her flesh, digging tearing into her. Screams of excruciating pain rang threw out the room as they escape her lips, eyes of red filled with blood tears, welling up till they cannot be held any longer, sliding down her ivory cheeks as they mix with her crimson locks. Writhing to every slash of their large sharp claw and making the ropes sear into her flesh cutting into her wrists and ankles, she screams out… “LORCAN, do not turn your gaze!” wanting him to see what his maker can live threw and to draw from him when the time comes.

The half breed, Maeave, stirs in her cell, blonde locks fallen about her face as the chains wrapped in her hair makes slight rattling noises as her head moves back and forth. Groggy as she feels her head become heavy, trying to lift it as she feels a sharp pain in the back of her neck. Maeve hears the screams echoing throughout the cell. Feeling as if she was hit by a ton of bricks, she tries to sit up, open her eyes, or even more a limb, moaning as she fights to get out of this state. Smelling her surrounds, she takes up the hint of her liege as the room fills with the ancient blood of Bodicea, as the sounds of spreading flesh and clothes mix with the screams and the grunts and howls of the lycans that claw into her.

Maeve awakes in her cell from the cell high-pitched screams. She covers her ears as she curls into a ball, howling to the pain, feeling as if her head was going to explode. Baltar prepared the lycans before hand, making sure they protected their ears. He had learned from the best, her being the one that trained him for the most part.

Glowing golden eyes suddenly widen as her body jerks on the floor, fighting threw her daze. Her body aches as she feels the scratches, bruises, and tears in her body from the beasts. Whimpers escape her lips as she stretches and flexes her muscles, feeling the wounds and bruises already regenerating, she stays on the floor of her cell as the lycans continue to rip into the vampires body. Maeve sees long talon claws raise high in the air, covered with dripping strands of darkened blood. With the force in which they raise and lower their massive paws, the blood flies and spatters upon anything it touches as they snarl in wicked animal laughter, her bones and muscles show threw the gouges and tares. The lycans breathe heavily, massive chests heaving in and out as they exhaust and tire of their handy work. Strands of drool slide from their fur covered muzzles as they start to move towards the stairs, ascending two by two and slamming the door behind them.

Maeve stands and runs to the bars, her gaze blurry as she tries to stop the ringing. She yells out… “Is she DEAD!?” as she sees Bodicea isn’t moving, nothing just a heap of dead flesh. A wicked grin graces her lips as she hopes that the sadistic bitch was dead and they where rid of her once and for all.

Lorcan smiles coyly to Maeve, not leaving his gaze from her body… “No Maeve, she lives. Do not let her fool you. From what she makes me live through, there is no way that would kill her. And besides, I still feel her pull on me.”

Within herself, she concentrates her energy as she writhes and screams from pain, calling on her child, the one she has places at her side, not as the rest that she created over the years. He who is held above all others; her beloved, Ambrose Siabonne, Bodicea starts to see his strong face within her mind. His goatea, strong jaw line, the arch on his nose, and his dark mysterious eyes as his long raven locks fall around and frame his face. “I call upon you my love” she sends to him so he may ready the pull, the bond pulling on him as her pain comes threw his image and he disappears like a puff of smoke. Falling back to reality as the starts to hear her own screams that escape her lips, her body coming back in a full force.

She lays lifeless and still, no heaving chest up and down, no fingers or muscles moving, not even a slight quiver of her lips as her eyes stay closed. Focusing her energies on her mutilated body and the one she calls upon. He who stands at her side, ment to be at her feet, but something made her elevate him, give him more power as non have had sense she was turned. Seeing his twisted, wicked way with the half breed, Maeve, giving her pain as he shows his hatred towards their kind and the lycan breed. His snug, arrogant, and ruthlessness, reminding her so much of herself within. Perhaps he is her kindred spirit. Bodicea’s body heals as her flesh tightens to the drying blood covering her body almost completely. His image fades, pitch black locks that frame his face, his lips framed by his neatly trimmed goatee, arch of his nose, and the deep darkened eyes that show her all. Looking with in herself as she makes plans to relieve herself of this retched vampire and his vile dogs.

Bodicea’s eyes fly open, her chest starts to move up and down as her lips part. Maeve gasps as the vampires body starts to move back to life. She turns her blood caked face towards her child; a small grin crosses her lips. “Stupid dogs give up to easily” she spits out as a line of fresh blood trails down from her mouth. “He doesn’t have the stomach or balls to do what needs to be down by his own hand. Fool, he will not live this time. I will not take pity on his wretched life again.”

Lorcan asks… “Who is he?” His eyes still trained on his makers’ body.

Shifting on his knees as he tries to keep his wrists and ankles immobile so the bindings don’t rip further into his flesh, his pale blue eyes still locked on his liege as he awaits her response. He secretly wishes they would kill her and end his torment, but, also wanting to learn all she can teach him, making him strong and powerful as the Dark Mother has shown him but only if he does not stray from her path she has laid out before him. How he hated the red headed bitch on the table, how he loathed the power she had over him, making him her pet, how dare she.

“He was once a student of mine about a hundred years ago. He was turned by one of my own children. She was arrogant and impatient and in the end, she paid with her life. Amelia didn’t want to wait for her training to finish before turning a human. She didn’t study and see if he was worthy of our gifts. In the end, Baltar overpowered her and her judgment and killed her. He became obsessed with me while under my studies and tried everything to either make me his or kill me. He had no idea who he was messing with. I left him to learn on his own accord hoping he would parish from his mistakes. His obsession must have fueled him over the years.” Looking up at the ceiling… “He still has no idea who he is messing with” eyes filled with rage as she turns to look at Lorcan. “My child, if you wish to live through tonight, you will do as I say. Is that understood?”

“Yes my liege. Just tell me what needs to be done and I will obey.” He tilts his head to the side, cracking his neck, an annoying human habit he still holds on to, but has its quirks in a way, as he waits for her plan.

Looking deep into him, she curls her lips up on a menacing evil grin… “The bond which holds us is the bond which will set us free. I will call upon the blood magic to kill the lycans. They are the only two of the pack that stayed behind. I don’t feel any other living being here besides Maeve. When they come back, Baltar will be with them I am certain of that. I will pull the magic from your body. In turn you will pull it from your child, Maeve, and with this we will be freed.”
The look of horror crosses his face. “What if I can’t? I have not learned how you do it or how to control it. What if I fail, my liege?”

“Then we will all perish, my child” she turns he gaze back up to the ceiling as she closes her lids, thick lush pitch black lashes fold together as they close. Her chest stops moving as she settles upon the table, waiting for them to return.

The door swings open as the two beasts leap down the stairs. Their hot sticky breath against her flesh as they lean down and sniff at her, nudging her arms to see if she is still there. Baltar motions them aside as he moved closer to the table, folding his arms over his slender frame. “Now I know you’re not dead, dead. I know you better than that.”

“Who’s to say I’m faking the final death? That is pointless and so childish” she says as her crimson liquid eyes open and looks upon him “you look like death warmed over Baltar, have you been feeding off of the dogs?” The lycans look at him with fires burning behind their giant orbs. “Perhaps” he says as he looks back at them; they cower and shrink back.

“Tell me of the location of the Bible, Queen Bodicea.”

Lorcan looks to Maeve, Maeve looks to Lorcan, and they both mouthed B I B L E?? as their gazes move back to the blood body on the table and the vampire before it; mouths drop open as shock moves over them both. Learning of the Bible is taught to each child, but to think that Bodicae knows of it and has seen it amazed them both.

“Bible? That is what this is all about? Not just wanting to beat me into being yours, but for the priceless book of the Dark Mother? NEVER?” she yells out at him. “You know me better than to betray my Mother. Kill me and let me be down with you” turning her gaze to Lorcan as she bids her time.

He nods to the beasts and they bring forth a large tray covered with a red velvet cloth. Laying it at the side of the table, they pull off the covering. Under it laid tools of torture. Knives, needles, thread, pliers, forceps, etc., all made of silver. Baltar pulls on leather gloves as he picks up a small sharp blade, placing it on her chest plate and dragging it slowly down to her navel. He parts her flesh and holds the flaps open with the forceps. Bodicea screams out in pain as her flesh sears with the silver of his tools. “Now we can’t have all this screaming, I want to hear your flesh sizzle” he says as he threads a needle. She looks up at him, her breath quick and heavy… “You learned from the best, Baltar. I am quite sure you wouldn’t have learned of this if it weren’t for me. I wonder if you have picked up anything new or have you been to much of a coward to try?” she hisses out at him.

Holding her lips together with one hand, Baltar starts to pierce threw her lower lip, the sharp silver plated needle slides into her flesh as if it where softened butter as it moves threw her top lip, running the thread all the way to the end before he starts to criss-cross it across from side to side, sealing them shut with the promise of more pain. She bucks as a faint scream tries to move from her lips with every stitch he placed in her flesh. Pain sears and pulses from where the silver threads and forceps touch her body.

“Ahh, that is much better.” He picks up a bottle of liquid garlic and starts to drop a few drops of the liquid over her open chest. The sound of sizzling organs, like a drop of water hitting a heated frying pan, fills the room; her faint screams and grunts murmur through her sealed mouth. Bodicea’s body wrenches up as it lifts from the table, shoulders, feet, head, and hands are all that stays on the table as her body arches up in sheer pain.

Baltar uses everything on the tray on her body. Hours pass as he slices and carves into her flesh, so easy to use his tools of torture as they slide into her with ease. He grins wide as his eyes bulge with his excitement, seeing her in such exquisite pain. His shaft throbs and stiffens within his pants as he continues to give the one he desires such pain; taking up the scalpel, he slices off her nipples. Her head shakes back and forth as she shudders in constant pain. Bodicae looks like a stuck pig in a High School science class.

Blood sliding down her lips as the tread tears at her flesh from the screaming. Her body no longer white but red with caked on blood. Large wounds spread open by forceps so they won’t close and heal. More liquid garlic dripped into each and every opened wound.

Baltar pulls out a jar from under the table, holding it to his cheek, he looks down at her, an evil smile crosses his lips. “Remember these?” he asks as he uncovers the jar. Squirming leaches fill the jar, wiggling and sliding over each other. Opening the jar he starts to place them on her body. Bodicea’s hands clench into fists as her toes curl with the pain of her blood being sucked out by the disgusting slimy things.

Ambrose screams in her mind as he returns to her… “NOW, call on me NOW my love.” Her corporeal self smiles at him as she raises a hand to touch his face, feeling the touch on his cheek outside the bond in his mind, “Patients my beloved, soon. The pain is necessary and needs to be taken till I am close to the final death” she says to him as he feels her pain, wanting to fly and be there to take care of the fool that is doing all of this.

Lorcan screams and groans in pain on his knees as he too, feels the pain his liege is going through. He only feels parts of what she is truly feeling, he squirms in his bindings as he cannot stop or escape the pain she is being put threw. How strong, arrogant, and powerful his maker truly is. Keeping his gaze locked on hers as he watches intently.

Her eyes start to roll up into her lids as she starts to feel weaker and weaker. Looking at Lorcan, her eyes give him the signal. His mouth opens as his face contorts, her voice comes out… “You really should have finished your training, Baltar. You would have known that torture is just another way to commune with the Dark Mother and not a way to get anything from me. You will never defeat me.” Lorcan’s head falls as his body slumps. Maeve falls to the floor, holding her belly as she howls out. Baltar looks around in shock and trying to figure out what is going on.

The room darkens as it becomes colder, dark red fog emanates from Bodicea’s body as it grows, filling the room. It pulses and snakes about as if alive. The lycans snarl and howl as they try to escape the mist that surrounds their bodies. They start clawing at nothing as they bloody their faces trying to get the mist that starts to seep into the beasts’ ears, nose, eyes, and mouth, suffocating them, taking the filthy animals as they slump to the floor.

Baltar is seized by the shoulders by a tall dark figure hidden in the mist. It dissipates, revealing her beloved, Ambrose, strong and full of life. The eternal gift suits him well. Lorcan slumped on the ground, as is Maeve in her cell, Bodicea nearly unconscious from the draining of what blood she had left from the lycans claw fest to the blood sucking leaches.

Ambrose moves out of the shadows, pushing Baltar along till they reach the table. She looks up at him, almost a vacant glance as her eyes slowly close, knowing she is safe, she rests instead of going into the resting state that vampires going into once they are drained of all their life forces. Ambrose growls out a low rage filled groan as he takes up a glove and tosses a silver chain around Baltar’s neck; worried that she was too far gone, he plucks the leaches off one by one, tossing them to the floor.

The pull their bond had started to fade. “NO!!” he screams out. “My liege, my love, stay with me.” Pulling off the last leach that was snacking on her inner rib, he pulls out the forceps throwing them to the ground. They echo as metal clanks against stone.

Baltar cries out in pain as his neck burns with the chain digging deep into it. “She’s mine, leave us be. You fool she isn’t dying, merely falling into a deep sleep. The only true way to destroy a being as old as my Queen is by beheading and burning it separate from her body” he hisses through the pain.

Ambrose laughs… “Bodicea belongs to no man.” He cuts the knots of the silver threads from her lips and pulls it out. She looks so peaceful in that state, he tilts his head to the side as he starts to trace the lines of blood upon her face, how it changes different colors of red the drier it becomes. The beauty of her peaceful rest, no not like his beloved, his rich brown eyes start to glaze over as he falls into the exquisite beauty of his maker.

Shaking himself from the trance as Baltor struggles to free his neck; Ambrose lifts his wrist and tears a chunk of flesh from Baltar’s wrist. Screaming out in pain as blood starts to flow down his arm. Placing the open wound over her lips as he tries to get her to feed, she wasn’t healing.

“Drink my liege, DRINK! You cannot parish on me. Your Mother is not ready to take you in. You have much to do in her name.”

Bodicea’s eyes fly open, he knew her all to well, she wasn’t one to give up, take the easy way out, or allow others to beat her. Opening her mouth wide, she sinks her fangs into his wrist before it closes on her. The thick rich dark red fluid slides down her throat. Her wounds start to heal as her alabaster flesh starts to come alive. His old blood full of so much history as she drinks, crimson eyes roll as she feasts on his eternal life.

“Noooo” he screams out as his body starts to weaken. Ambrose unties her wrists and ankles as he takes the chain off around Baltar’s neck. Bodicea drinks him to the point of near death. Lifting her lithe frame from the table and kissing Ambrose passionately, pressing her body to his as she embraces him. Tall dark skinned male embraces her as if for the first and last time, strong bold shoulders, trimmed physic as if his body was from another time. Times were men where warriors, carrying broad swords and shields, where word is law and respect was earned at the end of his blade. A time where women where under men, how fun it was to break him of thinking he was higher than she. “My love how I have missed you. How goes the infiltration?” she asks him as she looks into his eyes, seeing he has not strayed from her.

Taking her into his arms and kisses her neck licking off some of her blood, his lips curl as his fangs retract wanting more but restraining himself. His face changes back to his cold, stern look… “You called, I have come. It all goes according to plan, my liege. But I must return before suspicions arise.” “But of course Ambrose; but first carry him to my home, I’ll grab these two. Just leave him and go back, he will be no more trouble after I am done with him.” 

She moves to Lorcan’s limp unconscious body and releases his limbs from their bindings. Moving to the cell where Maeve laid, she pulls upon the bars so she can drag her body out. Her lips curl… “Bloody half breed, you will pay” she hisses as she drags her body out of the cell. Lifting Lorcan and Maeve, she tosses them over her shoulders as she makes her way to her home.

Old brick layered house comes into her sights. Two story small mansion secluded in the forest, hidden from the modern world. Rich flower beds, trimmed and pruned bushes and trees surround her come. The center of the pathway that leads to the front door, lays a old knotted willow tree surrounded by pink and brown walking stones. Dim lights emanate from a few windows as they light up the lawn. She pushes open the double front door that leads into her walkway. Baltar’s body lies on the asian rug that leads to her stairway that branches off to each side. Old paintings and canvases cover her walls, showing of her history of her past. A low fire burns in the fireplace of the sitting room.

Bodicae drops Lorcan and Maeve at the side of the entry way and walks over to his body. She pushes his body onto his back with her blood soaked leather high heeled boot as she looks down to him. “Have mercy on me, my Queen” he whimpers out as he lefts a small limp hand up at her, reaching to touch her.

“Mercy?! Mercy is for the weak, I will not take mercy on a pathetic waste of time as you.” Grabbing his collar and lifting him from the floor so he will be closer to her face… “You will not get the final death, EVER, my dear Baltar.”

Dragging him across the threshold, she pulls him behind her kicking and screaming, leaving a trail in the dew covered grass. Yanking on his collar as she makes her way into the forest that surrounds her estate, branches braking off as Baltar kicks and pulls at anything he can. The underbrush rustles as he squirms, her movements and motions are soundless and stricked as she drags him, as if nothing but a blanket in her grasp. She stops at a large darkened oak tree, wide and tall with years of growth, with a wave of her slender hand, long fingers arching up, a vibration pulses from her fingertips as the tree shudders. A door way opens as stairs appear, swirling down, small torches flicker to life. Pulling him downward, loud thuds echo as his body hits the stones steps, blood stones licked with crimson ruby lines create the floor as petrified dirt makes the walls and ceilings, the flames make the walls dull and without luster as they lick about the room. In the center of the room lays an altar made of black stone, shackles lay loose as wells around the altar lay empty. Off to the right of her hidden room are cells made of iron and steel, darken ancient wooden podiums hold covered trays, hiding secrets beneath them. And the object of tonight’s desires lays near the back of the room, the only thing that would distract her besides the floor, a tall, long tank shimmers against the torch lights. She walks across the room and places her hand against the glass, smiling wickedly; she taps on the glass… “Come, come my pretties. I have brought you a treat” she says as the water stirs. “These are seawater piranhas, Baltar, they haven’t had a good meal in a long time” she says to him, a devilish grin curls upon her lips. He looks up in horror as he screams out, never seeing this look across her face in all the years he had studied under her.

She releases her grasp as she moves with a blink of an eye to one of the podiums and takes up a small pearl handled silver tipped blade and returns back at his side. With inhuman movements, she makes quick work of him, ripping off his torn, bloody, cardigan sweater and his tattered jeans. Tossing them in a pile behind her as she relieves him of the rest of his clothes, Bodicea holds Baltar’s kicking weak body with one hand as she starts to slice into his torso, running a long continuous line from one side of his navel, around his body, to the other side of his navel. He screams out as his body fills with sheer pain and dread as he dwells on thoughts of what she has planned.

Slicing into his wrists in the same fashion as his belly, making sure that all of her cuts make their way to his bone, she takes up a thin silver chain as it burns into her hands, not caring, as she secures it and his wrists, making them touch his bones. The room fills with his screams and sorrows as she takes up another silver plated chain, this one thicker and longer as it hands from the ceiling, hooking it together behind his back. Touching his cheek softly as she looks down at him… “This will be the last time I’ll see your face, Baltar. You have put this on yourself and you should take your fate.” She says as she moves to the side of the tank. She starts to hoist his body up as the chains tighten and rattle with every pull. “No, please, kill me. Don’t do this my Queen!” Stopping just as his feet reaches the water she says… “I have never, nor will I ever be your Queen!” She lets go of the chain as he drops into the water. The sound of his body splashing into the tank fills the room.

Lorcan awakes, the familiar scent of her home, as he tries to stand. He growls as he feels weak and drained. He pushes Maeve’s still body on the rug with his foot as he rubs his sore wrists. Following the pull her blood has over him, sensing it much stronger than before, he makes his way out of the house and towards the forest. He finds the tree that hides his liege’s room and descends the stairs hearing the cries and screams of Baltar as he gets further and further down to the room. He hesitates and cringes as he knows how vile she can be.

He looms in the shadows at the base of the stairs as she drops him in the tank. Seeing the look upon her face, he realizes why she was the leader of her people centuries ago, seeing why she has survived and lived for so long, and seeing why the Dark Mother has given her such talents.

The piranhas made quick work of their food as soon as he hits the water. Biting and tearing into his flesh. They don’t take long to get to his insides. The water churning with movement as it reddens… “Lorcan, my pet, do not linger in the shadows,” she says as she moves to the front of the tank, watching them feed. He moves behind her and to the left. “Forgive me my liege” he says has he lowers to his knee, finally seeing her at her prime, knowing his defeat and submitting to her will.

“Has your worthless dog awakened yet? She will pay dearly for her insolence” she hisses out as she runs her fingers threw his raven locks. “No my liege, but let me handle her, please. You must feed and I am sure you would like to clean up and find something to wear.”

Sighing, she looks down at herself, seeing she is basically naked and covered with dry blood. “I suppose so Lorcan. Bring me someone later this eve before dawn and you best take care of her. She is yours and I will not tolerate insolence. If she cannot do the mere thing as guard she is no use to you or i. now go, I tire of this subject” shooing him away as she watches Baltar’s body writhe in pain as bones start to show, in endless pain and suffering as long as he is kept in that tank. Bodicea plans to keep him there forever, a constant reminder to all that look upon him what happens when you cross her. She makes her way to the stairs, the flickering torches start to extinguish as she leaves the room. His screams echo threw the room as she smiles devilishly to herself. The last torch goes out as her hand waves to close the tree and conceal it from the world. Bodicae strolls through the woods as she reflex the events and memories of battles past. Watching Lorcan run off to do as she has said, she reaches the clearing, turning back to the forest, thinking of Baltar and his punishment she sighs and turns back to her home. Taking a long deep unnecessary breath, she smiles and makes her way back to the house, leaving him in utter darkness.