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"ARCADIUS."
"Oh, the Lord is angry. I did not know she was yours. Actually, I did have a small doubt when I smelt you on her. Then again, you're some sort of vamp x fucus type of being."
"Magnus," within a split second, I pass from being in front of him to behind him and rip.
Magnus' arms lay on the ground from the shoulders down while blood spits out from the sockets like a jet-d'eau.
"Fuck, Søren, do you know how long limbs take to grow back. I mean, one arm is enough punishment, but two," Magnus says between gritted teeth.
"Don't mess with me, Magnus."
A mocking grin appears on his face, and two Seconds bring in an Offering.
"For the record, he's willing," Magnus specifies.
Offerings.
Like all laws, they are always ways to contour. Offerings are humans who consent to feed vampires in exchange for bed and board. They live within sight of their consumer and know the risk of dying is potent. Most usually have drug dependencies or pathologies like depression. In those cases, the First aides and sucks out their cravings and angst.
A Second slits the Offering's wrist for Magnus, who drinks until the Offering is drained and lies unconscious.
"Aw, fuck, the shit hurts Søren. Why such hatred? Cut the bastard son some slack. I know you detest me, but still," Magnus complains as his new cartilages, bones, and muscle form.
Yes, I depise him for existing and for being the representative of an old regime. Magnus is chaos walking, and I'm the only barrier. The Strigoi is cunning and manipulative. Even now, he pretends.
"Do you know Søren what the weak are preparing? The third trumpet will soon sound war. You deem not touch the humans, but you rip your brother's limbs. Behold your Lord and savior. Is this the ruler you wish? One that is willing to kill a brother for a human maiden, I, at least respect and observe Strigoi precept no other species should come before thee," Magnus says to the few vampires present.
"Save your tirade, Magnus. What do you think a few mere seconds can do?"
"You mock them, though you know full well they are more numerous than Firsts. What do you think will happen if Seconds, our people attacked the counsel?"
"Are you threatening us?"
"Oh no, I wouldn't dare. Please note that I'm mentally covering and gasping in shock because of the arms you ripped off."
Magnus, like Jesus, has this twisted sense of humor that makes one want to behead them on the spot. The desire has never been more compelling than at this instant, but I think of Inna. Her presence has vanished, but it's not the only odd thing. A smell of metal feels the air which only those born in our era would know.
