The disobedient poppet.. (Salem)

[Somara Ave]

Mommy had told her not to go there. She had said 'That door leads to your Father's lab. Do not disturb him when he is in there, even I try not to.'

But Mommy wasn't thinking like a child. To a child that one door, out of hundreds in the stronghold, had just become the single most fascinating one. It seemed to her, almost magical. That was where her Daddy was.

Mommy would come to see her every night and talk with her. She would help her dress and bring her little cups of the most delicious and beautiful red drink. She'd tell her stories of how very soon she would learn how to get the yummy drink for herself, that Daddy would teach her.

But Daddy never came. Somara had begun to believe that there was something wrong with her. Why didn't her Daddy want to play with her the way Elias did? r talk to her and hug her the way Mommy did?

These questions were what had prompted the little vampyre into action. She was Somara Ave, tiny Vampyre Princess of the Cabal and she wanted her Daddy!!

Salem wouldn't know what had hit him...

She had told Elias to stay put in her room, that she didn't need protecting from her Daddy. But the Familiar had escorted her to the lift doors. Elias tried to tell her that it was a bad idea, disobeying Mommy and Daddy.

She had stuck her tiny blue tongue out at him as the lift doors shut, leaving him behind. Not wanting to be spotted, Somara scrunched up on the floor of the lift and hid. When it arrived at the labaratory level she crawled out and hid beneath a rusty examination table.

Now she just needed to figure out where Daddy was and tell him a thing or two.

[Salem Ave]

For a long time, there was no sound. The laboratory was held in an eerie silence. Buried, as it was, beneath a good deal of earth, it was impossible for the noises of the stronghold above to creep down through its walls. Eventually, however, there came a clank, as the elevator which Somara had arrived in began to travel upwards once more. A minute passed, and the same sound could be heard faintly, as the lift started its return journey.

The door groaned and screeched against the floor, as it was wretched open. From underneath the table where she hid Somara could see a figure stepping out of the lift. At first, it began to walk quite briskly out into the lab, but paused after but a few steps, hesitating. Then, with a deliberate slowness, it began to walk towards her hiding place. It stopped at the table’s edge, and knelt.

Salem’s eerily luminous eyes shone through the murk, narrowed in slight disapproval, slight confusion. “How did you get down herrre?”

[Somara Ave]

A tiny blue finger pointed to the lift doors that Salem had just exited.

"S'mara took the lift. "

She scrambled out from under the table and stood her ground before her father. She didn't even come up to his waist level. She had to tilt her head way back to even meet his eyes. It was too annoying.

Turning around Somara grabbed ahold of the table's edge and jumped up. Laying on it on her stomach she pulled herself across. Her bottom, was covered with layers of infernal frills and ruffles that were forever getting in her way, but Mommy made her wear them. Fighting with her little dress, she finally got herself situated and turned around, feet in dress shoes hanging over the side of the table, swinging slightly.

Absently she pulled Sinclaire out from underneath her, he was more than a little squashed but she didn't seem to mind. She lay the dead rat across her lap and stroked his ragged fur.

"I never see Daddy, why?.. Daddy doesn't like S'mara?"

[Salem Ave]

For a moment, Salem found he was transfixed. The sight of the dead rat unearthed memories buried in his subconscious, thoughts he had not entertained for quite some time. As a young apprentice under the ward of the Sith Empire, he had found some kind of solace in a child name Takai, who had also possessed his unusual penchant for toying with dead animals. Seeing Somara petting, so tenderly, the lifeless rat reminded him, despondently, of her. Consequently, he seized the tattered thing up in his claws.

“Yourrr mother won’t be happy that you’re down here,” he replied, turning away from the child to try to find some convenient place to deposit the rodent corpse.

[Somara Ave]

In a manner that clearly showed that the girl had adopted her mother's unstable emotions, Somara stood up on the examination table and stomped her little foot.

"You give Sinware... back.. right.. NOW, Daddy!"

She sounded like a fury from hell, but when Salem turned around he was going to find out she was more heart broken than anything. She was faced with losing one of the only two friends she had and a dead rat may not seem like much, but Somara loved him just the same. Her little lip trembled and her eyes immediately filled with tears that were threatening to spill over if her pet was not returned immediately.

[Salem Ave]

At the sight of the child’s tears, Salem wavered. Stood defiant, as she was, on the table, the girl had a definite look of her mother about her and for a moment Salem found he almost succumbed to her demand on this fact alone. The moment of weakness passed quickly, however, as Salem held Sinware up to eye level. There was no malice in his voice, but a hint of curiosity did creep through.

“What would yourrr mother think of you playing with dead ratsss, little girl?”

[Somara Ave]

Somara quieted. Mommy would be mad, she had kept Sinclaire hidden from her for a while, but surely if her Mommy found him she would get rid of him, much as Daddy was trying to do now. Mommy was forever trying to turn Somara into a little angelic Princess, as she had been as a child. But Mommy was learning that Somara had much of her Father in her and that..some things were just not possible.

"Mommy would get rid of Sinware too... P'ease don't tell her Daddy? P'ease???"

Her little face had become a raincloud, and the first droplets started to spill over in a rain of tears.

She had tried to come down her to make Daddy love her and teach her to feed. But now.. she just wanted Sinclaire back and to go back to her room.

[Salem Ave]

Disgusted by the sight of tears, Salem forced the corpse back into his daughter’s hands. “Therrre.” His eyes narrowed accusingly. “Yourrr mother will know nothing of thisss.”

[Somara Ave]

Somara leapt off the table joyfully and threw her little arms around her father's neck before he knew what had hit him. "Tank you, Daddy!"

She swung down to the floor and grabbed his hand, tugging him along with her. Sinclaire was firmly gripped in her opposite hand and presently being dragged along behind her by his tail.

"S'mara is hungry. Mommy said it was going to be Daddy's job to teach S'mara how to get her own food..?"

[Salem Ave]

“Did ssshe…” Salem frowned slightly at the back of Somara’s head, as she dragged him along, tugging on one heavy cloven hand. “And did she tell you know what it isss that you must eat?”

[Somara Ave]

"Yes. The yummy red stuff. Only she says I am old enough now to get it for myself. You get to show me how!"

Somara was truly excited about this. Not to mention the fact that she hadn't eaten much and was already hungry. Her father had best get a move on or he was going to have a ravenous child vampyre on his hands.

[Salem Ave]

“Verrry well.” It was now Salem’s turn to lead. Rather than remaining in the laboratory, the pair returned to the elevator and ascended into the stronghold proper. For a time they walked in silence, here and there, until finally they came upon a small room. It was a mess hall for the cooks. The door was slightly ajar, enough to see that only one person sat inside. It was a young woman, not yet out of her teen years. She sat stiffly, eating slowly.

Given that the Cabal didn’t often entertain guests, the cooking staff frequently found themselves with endless hours to pass. The time seemed to drag on for an eternity whilst in the strongholds walls, all because of their fear. Though they could become somewhat accustomed to their Masters, they would never truly adapt to or accept what they were ruled over by. Some had warmed to Razielle, for she bore some of humanities most redeeming qualities, but no such traits could be found in Salem.

Perhaps this was why he had brought Somara here. The pair entered the mess hall, and at the sound of the closing door the cook looked up, fear evident in her eyes. Both the child and the cook were confused. Somara knew, by now, that there was nothing the kitchens could provide that would slake her hunger.

“Did yourrr mother tell you,” he began, letting go of the girls hand, as he began to slowly walk towards the cook. “How it is that we go about getting the rrred sss-tuff?” Salem didn’t for a moment imagine that Razielle had explained the gruesome nature of their species to Somara. Even as Salem’s sire, she had coddled and eased him into his transformation, ladling blood past his lips like wine. Reality was far more harsh than this, and Salem wanted Somara to understand this, even at her young age.

“If you want to feed, you mussst kill.” The cook was on her feet now, teary eyed and trying to make a move for the door. With a hiss, Salem clamped one hand over her throat. Then, as though she were nothing more than a marionette, he raised her into the air so that her eyes were level with his, before throwing her down to the ground. She let out a scream and curled her body into a ball, aching. No sooner had she had the ground, Salem was on her once more.

He seized a handful of her long blonde hair and heaved it upwards, drawing another shriek from her lips. No doubt others had heard the disturbance now, but it was of little consequence to Salem. With a single swipe of his claws, he had broken the cooks jaw. She collapsed to the floor, now catatonic with fear, and cradled her bloodied chin as she wept. Finally, now, he stopped, and turned to look down into the eyes of his daughter. He said nothing, but merely waited.

[Somara Ave]

Somara stood still throughout the entire display of violence - courtesy of her Father. She felt a mixture of emotions; excitement, shock and a sense of disappointment. This was how her graceful and sweet mother ate..? She couldn't envision it. On the other hand, she couldn't see her father sitting at a table cutting food into bite size tidbits either. It was just the way things were.

Her white eyes gazed down at the sniveling girl on the floor. In the end, the choice was a matter of genetics. She was more like her father than her mother and it was evident to all three people present. Somara smiled and stepped forward.

Some of Razielle's mannerisms could be seen as the little girl dropped to her knee's and leaned over the unmoving, frozen with fear cook.. The way she was careful not to get blood on her clothes.. The way she wrinkled her nose at the smell of the girls sweat.

But when her tiny fangs penetrated the girls throat and her clawed hands held her head still, draining away every last drop. She was most definately Salem's child. Satisfied gutteral sounds came from Somara and when she was finished she stood up and wiped her mouth on the hem of her dress.

"Is there more...? Mommy brings lots more."

[Salem Ave]

Salem looked perturbed. It was as though he had not expected the child to act with such gusto, suspecting instead that she would shy away from the harsh reality of her kind. Yet, in a way he was proud that she was not as prim and proper as he had suspected.

“No,” he replied, in a distinctly chiding tone. “You mussst learrrn self control. You take only what you need and no morrre, do you underssstand?”