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The Crypts; Lair of the Freak
Topic Started: Mar 6 2007, 05:57 PM (420 Views)
Miguel de Morillo
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The Freak

Miguel closed the dusty tome he had been reading for the past few days. He had forgotten to feed and now he was famished. He stood up from his desk and turned, making his way with his usual slow gait through the crypts. He had turned this place into a true home for his works. In the alcoves no, nestled with the skulls of men centuries dead, nestled his many books of lore and arcane knowledge. Candles made from human fat, slowly burning and giving off a foul perfume that was sweet to him, stood on ledges to illuminate the area. The smell of decay was stronger than it had ever been before he moved in.
His black robes trailed along the ground behind him, barely clinging on to his emaciated form. He appeared as little more than a skeleton with pale skin stretched over it. Currently several welts on his otherwise bare scalp were weeping and he felt more on his ribs and back beneath the priestly gown he always wore. These wounds would soon heal and make way for others to open.
He descended a short few steps into another section of the crypts. This wing was all his and no other clan member would dare to set foot here. They were all fools and he had no need of them. He made his way towards his inner sanctum, a twitching, muttering figure sweeping like some grim angel of darkness towards an ever increasing stench of death, decay and excrement. Miguel breathed deeply, savouring the sweet air before raising his hand and pulling back a curtain of human skin with his long pallid fingers. There on the table was his meal. She was young and full of life. He could feel her blood from here. She screamed when he approached and looked her over. The fleshlings had stripped off all of her clothes as instructed. Good. Here was one of them now. It was only small, standing two foot tall, crouched on all fours as was their natural stance. It was a pinkish creature, like all its brethren and, like them, it had no facial features. They were simple minded but they served his purpose well enough. There were three others sitting or crouching in the alcoves around him, watching eyelessly as he went to retrieve his instruments. On the way he passed a pile of slowly festering intestines from his last test subject. The arcane markings on his scalp glowed faintly in the darkness as he became aroused thinking of what he would do with them later. But not now. Now there was work to be done.
He came back dragging the tray towards her. She screamed again as she saw several sharp metal implements laid out before her, gleaming in the flickering light of the human candles.
“Why are you doing this?!” she yelled and sobbed.
“Why?” said Miguel, puzzled. Was it not obvious? “I serve the greater purpose, child.” He said his voice a low mumble, then a hoarse whisper. “You are privileged. You have your role to play in the Great Plan. You will bring me one step closer to completing my life’s work, my grand purpose!” Now his voice was high pitched and squeaky as he envisioned this glorious moment. She screamed again so he gagged her.
“Hush child.” He scorned. “I must work without distractions. But first, a little taste, yes a little, a little taste.” His eyes widened with hunger as he reached out his hand and he let out a squeak of glee as he ran his pale fingers slowly up the inside of her leg. He cupped her and began to draw her blood through his palm, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and eyelids fluttering as he did so. He could have drained her dry with ease, such was his hunger but he stopped himself. He needed her alive for this. They must be alive when he began, though they never seemed to be at the end. He pondered this as he looked down at her. Sweat had broken out all over her body and she had gone very pale.
“You look hot, child.” He remarked. “Do not worry. You will feel so much cooler when I’ve removed some of your skin.” Her screams echoed through the crypt for at least an hour before fading away to a gurgle then silence.
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Amara
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Zauberer Clanleiter
Amara stepped down the spiraling stone stairway, each step laying the sweet taste of decay thicker on her tongue. She had not been here in some time, sending for what many called “The freak” when he was needed. However she had not heard from him in some days and had caught a glimpse of one of his creatures just the other night. Truth be told she wanted to insure he was still alive; he was one of her clan members after all. Not only that he had power and was useful, though completely insane many argued. She preferred to think that it was simply a product of being a leper for eternity. Nikolas had imparted what history he knew of Miguel and perhaps this is why she was more understanding of him then she would be of other members. She was no fool however; he was dangerous to be sure.

She stepped off the last staircase, taking in the sights around her. It was in this place she had learned her “Hand of Blood” and it was here she had practiced until she had honed it to a deadly weapon. She glanced down one long corridor to his study and did not see him there with his candles and books. Turning she caught a glance of herself in an old tarnished mirror. She was surprised to see it here, thinking that Miguel would have no use for it. She took a step closer, amused by the reflection. How out of placed she looked even dressed like a club starlet. The light made her golden skin gleam as if someone had rubbed some shimmering substance into her skin. She traced the line of her navel with one slender finger. And all around her was the smell of death and decay, bones of those buried long ago and recent victims as decorations. She flashed a smile at her reflection and turned away to find him. She didn’t even have to search for the dieing whimper of a human caught her ear. “Ahhh” she sighed. Moving quickly she made her way down the twisted path to find herself in front of curtain. The scent of fresh blood was strong and as she pushed aside the limp fabric the sight before her neither repulsed or surprised her. She ignored the stares of his pets and focused instead on Miguel bent over the body of what had once been a strikingly lovely young woman. “How goes your great plan Miguel?” she asked, her voice languid and somehow musical as she leaned against the stone door way.
That which doesn't kill me had better run pretty damn fast.
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Miguel de Morillo
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The Freak
A voice spoke to him. At first he could be sure whether it was one of the many that guided him or an outsider. Turning around with a somewhat dreamy expression on his face he saw her.
“Ah, Amara,” he greeted her. She was one of the few whose presence he tolerated in his home. She understood him and understood The Plan. “Most excellent results from this latest subject,” he told her, indicating the woman with one bloody hand. “I am just this moment deciding what my next step should be!”
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Amara
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Zauberer Clanleiter
Amara gave him a beautiful smile the sent warmth dancing in her eyes. One thing she liked about being down in this Crypt was that she could do or say anything and Miguel would not think her insane. She could also afford to be more honest with him, sense even in his insanity he was a intelligent man but was incapable of judging her. She extend her slender hands to him in greeting, not at all repulsed by his appearance. She regarded the the festering flesh as a part of him, but did not think it was all that made him. “Wonderful!” she cried in delight, moving around the table to get a better look at the girl. He always seemed to leave their faces be for the most part. While the rest of the forms where messy,strange or both, their faces always remained clean. It held a strange sort of beauty, this work that Miguel did. “ You never cease to amaze me with your progress, I am well pleased. “ She looked back to him, passing a hand over her hair as she did so. “ I came to look in on you, i had not heard from you in a while and wondered how your plan was proceeding.” she had no idea what his plan was but it seemed to be the only comfort he had left and she wished to indulge what may comfort him. He never asked a price from her, something rare and to be treasured to be sure.
That which doesn't kill me had better run pretty damn fast.
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Miguel de Morillo
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The Freak
He was glad someone else in this world of imebciles realised the importance of the Great Plan and respected his work. Miguel regarded his fleshlings for a moment. Two had disintergrated yesterday and he would require more.
"Yes, yes!" he cried, his voice quite high-pitched. "The plan is proceeding perfectly!" Miguel lent down to speak to the dead girl. "You see my dear, even after the experiment is over you still have a use! I need two fresh minions and my candles too are running low!" Miguel went to his table and retrieved a nasty looking sharp instrument and began stripping th fat from the girls exposed internal organs. Next he would collect a few pounds of her flesh and plenty of her blood. The fat would make new candles while the flesh and blood would be pulped, mixed with some herbs and, by way of concentration and incantation, would become a fleshing.
Miguel was barely aware of Amara as he worked, stopped low near to the body where its smells could fill his nose. He bore no ill will towards her, neither seeking out her presence nor being particularly disturbed by it so wrapped was he in his work.
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Amara
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Zauberer Clanleiter
She stood back while he harvested what he needed from the young woman’s body. She recalled how the first time she had been a bit shocked, watching him. Never repulsed for she had seen many lepers in her travel, but shocked at what could be done to a human body after it lay dead at ones feet. Sense then she had come to admire how he let nothing go to waste, much like many tribes still existing around the world. The thought brought a smile to her lips again. She was considering “her freak” to human tribes and the animals they hunted. She turned her attention from what he was doing to observing him himself. It was such a pity she had not yet discovered what could, if anything, pull his fractured mind closer together if not heal it. She knew ways to do so with her Aura but it would require an effort from him. He would be a welcome addition to her little court above them to be sure and she had no doubt that the entire clan could benefit from his knowledge. Perhaps insanity was a mercy to him in his state but she did not know. “Miguel” she said his name softly, requesting his attention as he finished his harvesting. She never called him freak or any other such cruel names, it was a way of reminding him he did have some sense left some where in there. “Soon I intend to bring you a gift for all your hard work, what do you wish it to be?” she asked him. She realized as she spoke she hadn’t come here to get something from him or discuss matters of state. She merly wished to look in on one of her flock and reward him. He had proved useful many times in the past and though his sanity sometime slipped even towards her, he had never disappointed her. Such service should be rewarded.
That which doesn't kill me had better run pretty damn fast.
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Miguel de Morillo
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The Freak
Miguel fetched a bowl and filled it with blood, focusing his power around it to stop the vitae congealing. Producing a vial from inside his robes he sprinkled a little power into the blood.
"A gift?" he said aloud, tilting his head to one side. "What should I choose? More books of knowledge perhaps? To aid the Great Plan! Yes, yes! But no! What I should dearly treasure is a new subject!" Miguel slapped at his arms, feeling imaginary insects drawling there and momentarily lost his focus. He returned his attention to the bowl of blood and added a little flesh to it chanting 'a pound of flesh, no more, no less, a pound of flesh, no more, no less' in a sing-song voice as he did so. Then, as if suddenly remebering the question, he snapped back around to face Amara again, continuing his speech as though it were never interrupted.
"A new subject that would not tire so easily. Can a vampire regrow a limb? Would they survive the removal of the outer tissues? Such research!" his voice became very high pitched now. "Without doubt it would further my results!"
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Amara
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Zauberer Clanleiter
At first she deemed not to reply, turning his request over in her mind. So he wanted a subject that wouldn’t die eh? Could she subject some one to what very well maybe an eternity in the tender care of Miguel? Her eyes gleamed with an undefined emotion as she came to an honest answer. Oh yes, she could do it and sleep well. But it would have to be some one she was making an example of, someone she wouldn’t miss…say an enemy? Or better yet, she could give one of their own clan to Miguel’s care for a time but the offense would have to match the judgment. Besides, it would provide something to do with those who crossed them other than watch her clan play at games.Slowly she nodded, her bangs falling across the jade of her eyes. “Very well Miguel. You are gifted in the arts of torture and interrogation and the centuries have honed you well. When one of our own has committed a crime worthy of your care I shall bring him to you to be taught his lessons.”

She stalked forward, perching on the table and leaning her upper body over what was left of the young woman. “Understand that unless I gift these individuals on to you I do not want them damaged for eternity less I say otherwise.” She reached her hand up and tilted his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “So that you may find just how far and how many ways you may enlighten your guest I am gifting you with two vampires. They have betrayed us and have been deep in your crypt for some time, locked away in coffins. I expect to see you in my court every few days to inform me of your progress.” She smiled at him, looking for all the world heaven sent; it was ruined by the gleam of elongated fangs. “Besides,” she pouted, “I miss the company only you provide above of late, and they all bore me so terribly.” She released him and stepped back, the smile gone from her lips as she wove a spell through the air with her hands. The two coffins appeared on either side of the table the dark wood sealed shut by the self same spell of binding she learned from Miguel a century before. One f his fleshings had been moving ever closer to her, she turned a cold jade gaze upon it, smiling as it scurried backwards. “Are you well pleased?”
That which doesn't kill me had better run pretty damn fast.
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Miguel de Morillo
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The Freak
Miguel was indeed pleased with the subjects presented to him. He recognise the spell on the coffins and knew immediately how to counter it. For a moment he was confused. She mentioned torture and interrogation. He supposed these might be side effects of his work but it certainly was not the purpose. And when she mentioned that he shouldn't damage subjects for eternity, did she think he killed his subjects on purpose? He had always intended them to survive. That was the very reason he needed a stronger test subject. But all the same he supposed he should ask about these two.
"Yes I am pleased! What are my limits with these subjects, Amara?" rasped his voice. Then there was the matter of leaving his crypt. He hated to do so but he supposed if Amara was too a student of the Great Plan's designs as she seemed to be then there could only be a benefit to sharing research.
"Yes...yes! I will bring you evidence of further success!" shrieked Miguel before snapping his attention back to the gory contents of his bowl.
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Amara
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Zauberer Clanleiter
She smiled, delighted with his enthusiasm. "Oh these two? Miguel they are yours to do with as you please. I meant that you should do as you wish." She ran a hand over the nearest occupant’s resting place, smiling to herself. One was the rouge that had helped his fellow take away her master. She could sense the life force dim in each of them, turning empty green eyes to Miguel she said, "They are weak, enjoy them my friend." she turned her back to him and made her way to the entrance. She glanced back over her bare shoulder and said softly, "May you find a break through for the plan, I am only a spell call away if you need me." with that she swept from the room with all the grace one would expect from a woman of her station, feeling just a little sad to leave Miguel there alone with his bodies and darkness. All he had was his plan it would seem. She would try to give him vampire company but neither male nor female came here of their own accord and those that did where of rare stuff. Reaching the spiral stair she moved of them, a soundless golden shadow.
That which doesn't kill me had better run pretty damn fast.
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Miguel de Morillo
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The Freak

Miguel barely noticed Amara's exit as he returned his attention to the bowl once more, waving a hand across and beginning to chant. No nonsensical babblings stumbled from his bleeding decayed lips this time, no, these were words of power. He raised his arms as the chanting continued and his voice grew from a gutteral rasp to a piercing shriek. Raw magic danced around him and leapt, charging the air and igniting the symbols on his pustulent scalp. Then the chanting came to a sudden stop with the downward flinging of Miguel's arms, hands coming to rest either side of the bowl. Something stirred therein. Something living.
Miguel left the fleshling to get aquainted with its siblings whilest he inspected the coffin. He ran a deathly hand over the wood and felt the life force within. Weak indeed but they woudl suit his purpose.
"You are lucky," said Miguel. "You are to be a guest in my house and it is here you will find your true purpose. The great purpose! The only purpose!" There was much work to do. He would have to compile a list of tests to be done. First basic testing to external stimuli, then he could examine the response of the immune system to varying degrees and types of trauma! And when the tissue regrew, he could map the nervous regeneration! So much work to do! Miguels eyes fell on the corpse that lay, still strapped to his table and felt a stirring within him. But first he could reap a little reward couldn't he? Yes, he deserved that much! Yes. Miguel undid the straps, clambered onto the table and parted his robes.
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