Dio Brando : An Accidental Present

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SPOILER WARNING: PHANTOM BLOOD

I have a full on extensive story that stems from this, perhaps I'll post it one day.

Heavy footsteps thudded into the room, waking you from your light slumber as the early morning crept up. He'd finally arrived home, booze on his breath and zero consideration. This engagement was just turning out to be succumbing to the norm of high-end Victorian society. You were in love with him, that much was true. He appeared to have formed an attachment to you before, but with his father burdening his memory and Jonathan becoming increasingly suspicious day by day, it was no wonder you found it difficult to capture his finer moments. Eyes wide open, you waited for the drunken tumble into bed, followed by his repulsive snores. The fall might have happened, but the snores didn't. Freezing fingers tenderly brushed your face, the stalking gaze penetrating your head. You rejected his advances, since it wasn't the same when he was like this.
Of course, in his current state, the man didn't take kindly to you pushing him away. Caging you against the mattress, he wasn't forceful, but he was rather pushing as he kissed your still lips. Pressing your hands up against his chest, he retired rather quickly, stretching over to grab something from the floor. Before you could react to his shuffling, your throat closed up, darkness encapsulating your vision. No matter how hard you tried to scream suffocation set in heavier. Cold stone warped to your face, the pillow above stifling your noises of alarm. Muscles cried out louder than the piercing feeling to your temples, your chest convulsing from lack of oxygen.
Once your limp arms slid down his torso, he knew now was the time. Carrying your lifeless body to the armoire, you were lay propped up inside, beneath finery bolted behind heavy doors. Now he just had to wait. If you turned into a creature too, he would be absolute about rejecting his humanity.

Darkness focused into shapes resembling skirts, your vision sharper than ever. Sitting up, you could feel a gruelling ache deep within your stomach, lethargy covering each individual cell in your being. You had to eat something. Now. Anything. Whatever you could smell within your reach. It was meaty, juicy and tender, whatever it was. Bursting out of the closet, the person on the other side drained all colour from their face, scream unable to sound due to being so terrified of the thing in front of them. You recognised the bastard as your old master, Wang Chan. As an orphan, you were sold off to one of the local shops, used as a battering ram, a puppet and a fool. He'd exposed you, put you through several indignities and treated you as an object. Without any conscious instruction nor thought, clawed fingers had pierced his throat, delicious sanguine nutrients surfacing at a shocking rate. Within seconds, he was lay on the ground, a corpse. Your reflection showed a perfect, glowing young woman. Your skin was smooth, reflecting a slight amount of light like a mirror. Glowing eyes stared back at the strange person in the glass, taking in the gorgeous form which would be set for eternity. Though dazzled for a moment, you remembered the mask.
Should you be disappointed or grateful for this gift? 

The sharp, pearlescent white fangs poking out of your mouth reminded you that you weren't human anymore. You were better.

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