Club Underground

Club Underground

[Prologue]

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The pale body of a young man, no older than twenty-two, fell to the floor with a sickening thud. The head, already cracked and bleeding like a flowing river, was barely attached to its body. A deep cut slashed across the pale flesh, revealing the meaty muscles of what used to be a throat.

The floor was already coated in puddles of crimson, but the blood that was oozing from the cut throat and cracked head was slowly forming another pool around the top half of the dead boy's lifeless body.

A purr permeated the room as a woman with vibrant red hair and matching lips knelt down to the body, carelessly allowing the blood soak into her lovely black dress.

Her eyes gleamed with hunger and lust and her black pupils were abnormally large, almost covering her entire eyes. Another purr left her throat, but this time it sounded more beastly as she dipped a slender finger inside the large, opened wound on the male's neck, giggling like a mad-woman when the blood continued to flow deliciously from it.

Her red stained lips curved into a wicked smile just as someone entered the room.

She didn't look up from her meal when a pair of black dress shoes stepped into her view, the soles of the shoes becoming stained with blood.

"I see that I chose well," said an unknown voice, amusement coating its tone.

The woman nodded her head happily as she popped a crimson finger into her mouth and moaned in delight. She closed her eyes as she sucked the human's delicious blood off her finger. The taste of young blood was always appetizing.

A sigh departed from the lips of the older man as he kept his gaze on the bloody mess that his beautiful client had made. Blood splatters, none small, were everywhere and he inwardly groaned when he realized that he would need to replace the brand-new couch once again.

He narrowed his eyes through his dark shades as he caught sight of a pink appendage laying on the couch and no matter how many times he'd witnessed such...sights, his stomach still flopped when he found that the appendage was a tongue and had been eaten half-way.

He licked his dry lips and thanked the heavens above that he had come into the room with an empty stomach.

There was a tug at the end of his black slacks, which provoked the older male to look down at the young woman as she continued to pull at his pants with a bloody hand. She seemed childish with the way she pouted, her dilated eyes gleaming with joy and excitement that made him smile down at her with fondness. He bent down on his haunches, taking extra precaution not to have anything other than his shoes to be stained with blood.

"What is it, Amalia? Still hungry?" he asked.

She looked up at him, still pouting, and nodded. There were dots of blood on her cheeks and he reached a hand out to wipe them away. Her flesh, the color of virgin snow, was never to be tainted with anything that was dirty. She was perfection. She was his angel.

She grasped his hands with her cold ones, slightly digging her sharp red nails into his skin. "I--" Her voice sounded raspy yet so... angelic. "--want someone better." He blinked.

"I don't understand? Wasn't this boy," he nodded his head to his now unemployed host, "to your liking?"

Her lips arched into a smile, fangs peeking through the top lip. She raised her body to wrap her arms around the bemused man she had come to adore many years ago. He was her supplier, her puppet, her lover. The male in her arms stiffened slightly when she rubbed her lips against the side of his throat and chuckled, her cold breath sending shivers through the man's body.

"Are you still afraid of me, Ciro?" She hummed as she trailed her red lips up his throat towards his ear, leaving behind a faint trail of blood. But Amalia stopped before she could reach his ear when she felt the strong beat of  a slight throb against her lips. She closed her eyes as she opened her lips slightly and sucked on the vein that was throbbing against his flesh, teasing, with every beat of his heart.

"Ah, you smell divine, love." She cooed against his neck, which was doused in her saliva. "That boy... was intoxicating but sweet. I want someone--"

The male wrapped his arms around her slim body, pulling her softly against his hard chest. He wobbled a little as he tried to keep himself from kneeling into the large puddle of blood. Ciro buried his face against her throat and sighed.

"--Much younger," he finished for her.

Amalia pulled away from him with a chuckle as she cupped his face into the palm of her hands. Her eyes, which were slowly returning to a normal color of blue, gazed into his eyes with a shimmer of amusement.

"Don't be jealous, my love. You know that if I took a drink of your blood, I can no longer love you," she purred, trailing a single finger down the side of his cheek.

His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, "I am not."

She grinned and smacked her lips against his, allowing him taste a morsel of the prey she had feasted on. But their kiss ended short when the door to the room swung open, revealing a man with broad shoulders and a hard look in his eyes. Ciro heard Amalia release a growl of disapproval at being interrupted, but seeing the look in his right-hand man's eyes, he knew that their 'session' would have to wait until later.

Ciro stood up, bringing his precious treasure up with him as he asked the male what business he had coming into the room uninvited.

The buff male bowed at the waist as he muttered an apology.

"Mr. Amano is on the phone with important matters he'd like to discuss with you, sir," he said.

Ciro felt Amalia move away from his arms and the person. He glanced away from the man, Cain, for a second to look at Amalia. She had taken a seat at the couch, bringing the half-bitten tongue to her lips and giving it a long lick. Looking away, Ciro glanced back at Cain and noted the blank look on the man's face. He, as well, was used to such scene.

"Mr. Amano?" Ciro raised his glasses to sit on top of his head, revealing eyes that were the color of lavender. "Whatever could he want?" he questioned.

"Perhaps, sweet lips, you should hurry up and speak with him so that I can have you all to myself and discuss the next youngling with you." He heard Amalia say from behind him.

A smile tugged at the his lips as he nodded his head.

"Then I will have someone down to clean up this room," he said to Cain, who instantly caught the hint and bowed before leaving to get the job done. Ciro turned to his beautiful mistress with a grin. "And please, dear, do not rip the cleaner's throat open. I have lost so many already."

Amalia blinked her eyes innocently but there was a wicked grin on her blood stained lips.

[Special thanks: to Miniwriter12, xXWolfishLoveXx, and ErinRaechelle  for taking their time looking over for any mistakes.]