[hider=Peter]
[indent][indent][sub] E V E N I N G   -    D E N V E R  ,  C O L O R A D O [/sub][/indent][/indent]
A sudden urge to spring out of his daily slumber pumped Peter’s body upwards, with panic carved into the eternally callow face of the vampire, but his teenage body stopped midway in the motion, trapped by the tiny weight of a small elementary aged girl who was nursed into wearing a platonic smile on top of his tensed abdomen.  With a twinge of confusion lacing around his vision, his eyes shifted over her petite, dormant frame—the sight of her calmed him—when without much notice other than the flexed urge that had possessed him not even seconds earlier, a long, discomforting moment of static white light and a void of blankness blindfolded him like a thief into the labyrinth of the [i]Cobweb[/i].  

Voices and hands pulled his mind every which way, dragging tattered weaves of incoherent words and images through this maddening maze.  Peter felt as if he was going to be torn apart by such sharp silks twisting and turning, sewing different ideas and patterns in between the juggernaut of his fucking brain.  The voices changed tones and fluctuated, corners of wood plastered as his vision haphazardly buzzed catchwords and phrases. Constant terror pressed the murky shadows of everything his mind could touch while in this state. It was all happening too soon and too quickly. And, it hurt. it hurt like a mean joke that ended in death.  But, suddenly, he was invited to a carnival with a threat, and the static stopped.

Now, it was just him and the nothingness and the silence.

His thin fingers unconsciously clawed at his face with short, picked nails, digging cold skin into his sockets, trying to exhaust his eyes torture from the kaleidoscopic visions.  His teeth tightened with his jaw, lips parting to relieve pressure,  until finally, the deep chattering of silence escaped him, and his hands and upper body collapsed back into the bedding exhaustively.  The ruffling of his body turned the resting child slightly, but she failed to really partake of any notice of the movement while she was entranced in a deep spell, succumb to her own vision of what that Malkavian nightmare had woven, perhaps.  

Peter’s dark, tired eyes fluttered open to focus and unfocus as the words and visions were echoing laughter in his mind like a fun house mirror reflecting opposites and upside down proportions while drawing further and further away from his line of site. Immortal pupils continued reshaping size as fragments and shards of the Madness Network coiled nonsensically through his beating mind. [i]Cain, he saw Cain…— No, no, he did not.[/i]  The confusing terror left his mental state in a daze, mind-numbingly staring glassy eyed upward with nothing but the sound of the child’s breaths and heart to reassure him that he hadn’t died and gone to hell once upon a time.  No, he was very much still living in this physical plane he had always inhabited, even prior to his Embrace.

Long shadows draped overhead, catching his attention towards the dark ceiling glaring back at him with various illusions smugly drawing their wicked obstacles to the turning wheels of distorted truths he had just seen. Black spots danced accordingly into his returning vision with little lines of silver fluttering throughout the dark voids—the sensation was akin to a human’s dehydration spell, and the basic lust of desperation for humanity slumbered a nervous, dizzy smile on his pale face as what had happened nestled into the folds of his mind while his permanently deranged mind resettled itself.  His neck twisted, turning his spinning site to look downwards upon his dollish ghoul.  As the vampire’s vision settled amongst the reality of now, it carefully traced the geometric lines making up the thing resting so submissively on his lower body.  No matter how many natural curves he found in her tiny form, he [i]just[/i] couldn’t bare to see her become a square.

His mind swayed back-and-forth quietly to an contemplative, imaginary tune as he watched the girl drift through the sleep realm. There was a depressive excitement in him as if he had just been given a lucky ticket to something too important.  The scary things that had taunted him moments earlier morphed into some innate task, chore, routine; [i]a need[/i].  His smile persisted, however.  His hand extended and nudged the tender cheek of the child. The little girl was no longer needed in her sleeping form.  Although, he could have very well done this with her mind shut from the physical world, but she enjoyed it too much for him to not care about her state.  He also wanted her awake and with him for the carnival.

The slumbering smile lazily drawn on his parted lips turned further upwards as his voice pressed from his mouth, “[i]Annie[/i]…” the playful coo tickled apathetically in his vocal cords, “Uncle Scottie requests you open your eyes… [i]Annie[/i],” the same mischievous tongue soothed his voice outwards and towards her now gently twitching facial features.  Peter’s face tried resting itself into a more passive state, but as her eyelids opened to reveal her dark marble pupils outlined by thick hazel rings of mortal youth and immortally-corrupted innocence, the nightmarish realm of the Cobweb rewove its remains in his mind. There was the screaming silence, again, as he could intricately feel his face drifting from jest to angst. [i]Caine is hungry.[/i] No, [i]he[/i] was hungry, not Caine.

The poor girl’s head lifted from his body as her tangled, blonde hair dripped from her head and unfolded into uncoordinated curls upon her boney shoulders.  A small hand passively rubbed one of her eyes before pushing her body into a sitting position.  Her hand fell to the bedding, fist lightly curling bed sheets into her fingers.  Her large, childish eyes blinked several times, adjusting to the new state of mind, and her soft lips slowly parted before gripping the same expression of a child being introduced to a candy shop for the very first time, “Uncle Scottie!” Annie’s eyes lit up in the darkness of the room, “I was just dreaming about you!” her dollish voice tinkled excitedly, and her frail body climbed on top of him, nudging him eagerly.

Peter’s head slowly tilted sideways, observing the mortal creature approaching onto him.  His smile wavered back a bit in return from the distraught experience that had molded over him upon the opening of her eyes.  His need for her took priority, now, if for anything it was for her vitae—as she was also feeling for his own or just a [i]Kiss[/i].  She was so fake, Peter often thought, just like a [i]doll[/i].  He pondered about it being [i]annoying[/i] and [i]superficial[/i], but beggars could not be choosers.  And, in Peter’s maniacal need for a family structure, this is what he had, and even if it was so blatantly insufficient and lacking in all aspects because of [i]himself[/i], the Deliroe family had, nonetheless, become an essential part of his immortal life as his very close and dear playthings; his blood dolls; his darlings.  They were [i]his[/i], and he wanted them just as they wanted him.  It was ghoulish.  It was ugly, but it worked.

Extending a hand, his thin fingers combed Annie’s light, stray hairs from her sleepy face that was now grinning something less human back at him. A finger twirled several of her curls before releasing the soft threads, “And I, perhaps [i]you[/i], my little one,” his voice puppeteering back at her while he propped his body further and embraced the young girl in his arms like a hug, which she reciprocated carnally, nuzzling herself into his firm chest.  His neck bent around hers while he drew in her scent—her sweet, youthful scent, and with parted lips, his mouth found itself on her childlike flesh and began feeding accordingly, sucking with pleasure.  The supple blood was not nearly as strong as her parents’. However, a small, sweet snack from his dearest Annie never hurt anyone, and the soft, gentle mewls breathing from the child was an obvious reminder to accompany her taste.

Peter withdrew his mouth after some time, tongue gently curving against any mess from the girl’s vessel and his own flesh.  His hands cupped her small frame, drunk on his bite with a lulled smile content over her pale face. His eyes lingered on the precious, tired thing that he had started to adore too much.  His body shifted from under her, as he carefully guided her from the bed, “[i]Annie[/i], my doll, tonight, you and Uncle Scottie are going somewhere farther than normal…” His lulling smile returned in his dark and whimsical words, “Go pack some of your things because we might not be back for a while.”  

He was not normally so compassionately serious with other creatures, but as it appeared, this traditional structure he had stumbled upon had a good web around him, which only meant at this instance, he should go procure the rest of his needs from the child’s parents before going to [i]that carnival[/i] he was supposed to see... [i]wherever[/i] Malk's silk threads were pulling him.  He allowed the girl to bid her farewells to the her parents post his feeding, and the two saw themselves off.  The girl snugged herself in the backseat, and Peter took the wheel of the car.  It would be several many hours of driving, but skipping town for a while might be a good idea.  He hadn’t exactly been a good boy last month…


[indent][indent][sub] B E F O R E    S U N    R I S E   -   S T O V E R  ,  M I S S O U R I [/sub][/indent][/indent]
“Where are we, Uncle Scottie?”  Annie’s voice quietly questioned Peter as her eyes peeked out of the car window.  Her eyes widened in the darkness, skimming the building the gray car was parked in front of.  Hands clasped in her lap while her fingers fiddled with each other.  There was a look of twisted impatience on her face when Peter turned to look at the girl.

“You’ll see tomorrow, evening, [i]Annie[/i],” his face spread into a mischievous smile.  She was so sweet and young and knew so little, “Let us go grab our belongings and get ourselves a room, hmmm?” And so, that is what they did at the Headwaters Motel in Stover, Missouri.  The drive had been rather long and extended much patience and focus on Peter's dear part.  It would also be morning, soon, and the new locations was causing all kinds of chemical and emotional headaches, which was really bringing his mood quite low.[/hider]