Dragula

Prompt:



Dragula

Dead I am the one

Exterminate his son

Slipping through the trees

Strangling the breeze



Dead I am the sky

Watchin' angels fry

While they slowly turn

Conquering the worm



Dig through the ditches and

Burn through the witches

An' slam in the back of my

Dragula



Dead I am the pools

Spreading from the fools

We can watch you knead

Nowhere as you bleed



Dead I am the rat

Feast upon the cat

Tender is the fur

Dying as you purr



Dig through the ditches and

Burn through the witches

An' slam in the back of my

Dragula



Do it baby

Do it baby

Burn like an animal



Dead I am the life

Dig into the skin

Knuckle crack the bone

Twenty one to win



Dead I am the dog

Hound of hell you cry

Devil on your back

I can never die



Dig through the ditches and

Burn through the witches

An' slam in the back of my

Dragula



Dig through the ditches and

Burn through the witches

An' slam in the back of my

Dragula



Dig through the ditches and

Burn through the witches

An' slam in the back of my

Dragula

   

    Cecil had not devoured life in a while, so when this opportunity presented itself, he could not resist. Marcus Quilote's son, Max would be at the grand opening of the casino tonight. Atop his mansion with its sprawling wooded grounds, Cecil shuddered at the thought of Marcus and his blood boiled. One good turn deserves another, isn't that what these humans like to say? Cecil's lips curled into a smile.

    Amid a flush of bodily fluids, Cecil transformed into a raven. He took to the sky and slipped through the trees before he entered Raistin's outskirts. He sped toward the glass spires that marked the city's skyscrapers and the gambling district.

    Below him, the mindless denizens bustled about with their own self-importance. The rancid stench of human flesh strangled the breeze, but Cecil reveled in it. Beneath that stench, life called, supple, inviting, and ripe for the harvest.

    Cecil cawed. The forlorn angels he had watched fry would envy his position right now could they only bare witness. But they were no more, buried in graves meant for men, turning in ditches covered in maggots as they rotted. Such was the fate of an immortal made flesh. That punishment curdled the taste in Cecil's mouth. I won't get caught, and in one fell swoop I will have scored a fitting tribute to the master and won revenge for those we lost.

    He landed upon a window ledge at the newly crowned 'most extravagant' casino in the world, the Crystal Royale—Max Quilote's crowning achievement as an architect. Ironic that one of the most avid gamblers, who spent millions a year on his vice would build a casino. Cecil turned his attention to the sounds inside. An orgy feast was in full swing.

    They've warded the room and they have a guardian. Cecil smiled. If only wards still affected him. The guardian, however, was a different matter. An unrestrained guardian could kill him.

    Cecil spread his wings and flew along building's side. Soon, he found what he searched for—the entrance his minions had provided for him. Cecil landed and shifted again, this time becoming a rat.

    Into the shielded duct he went, and scurried his way through the maze of pipes, wires and other apparatus that operated the amenities within this grand building. Soon he hung in the roof above the orgy room. Noises from sopping wet flesh and smells of delicious blood and sex reached him. Cecil grinned as the guardian appeared.

    A huge cheshire cat, as big as a small dog, crept along a duct. A wide grin that displayed row upon row of sharp white teeth greeted Cecil.

    "I was told to expect such as you," Cheshire purred.

    Cecil chuckled. "Oh ho ho ho ho ho, not quite like me I'm afraid, never like me."

    Cheshire opened his mouth and began to purr again. Cecil's head spread, his fangs grew, and his neck snapped forward. His jaws clamped onto Cheshire's neck. Cecil's fangs ripped through tender fur. Cheshire died as he purred. With a snap, Cecil separated Cheshire's head from his body and flung both aside. He spat out the cursed blood.

    Power thrummed through Cecil with the guardian's death. Enough to satisfy the power he spent with his prior transformations. Cecil transformed again, this time closer to his true self and phased through the ceiling. The sweet, cloying smell from blood and mangled flesh pulled him. He landed among the vampires gorging themselves before they knew it. Blood pooled about him.

    Cecil swung his arm out and his claws sliced through the first vampire's neck. The still hissing head fell to the floor. The second vampire tried to roll away. Cecil's nine-section, silver chain whip flicked out. The spiked end pierced the vampire's heart. The vital organ exploded out the creature's back in a shower of blood.

    Blood and gore from the two kills and the torn humans under Cecil bathed him with their power. Ah, the blood is the life. The surviving three vampires flitted away from Cecil, next to their mistress.

    "You!" Cecilia Quilote shrieked. "It can't be. You're dead. I saw them kill you."

    Cecil smiled. "Oh, that is very true. I am dead and yet so much more. I find it ironic that your husband named you after me, after the people in the family he destroyed. Don't you?"

    Cecilia's revealing red dress swayed about her exquisite form as she flung her hand out. "I, I saw them stake and burn you, witch. I saw the demons take you. How—"

    "Mere contrivances, my dear." Cecil sat among the bloody remains on the bed. "You wouldn't understand." He dug a finger into the tear in the neck of a still breathing human. Bloody flesh came away at the end of his finger. He gulped it down and licked his lips.

    "Kill him!" Cecilia screamed.

    Cecil laughed. Before the three vampires could move he flashed to them. His whip flicked out three successive times. Three hearts exploded. Blood splattered across Cecilia's heaving, creamy breasts.

    "Now it's just you and I, my dear," Cecil whispered into her ear.

    Cecilia spun to him with her fangs bared. Her face contorted as her transformation began. Cecil tapped one finger to her forehead and stopped it. Cecilia shuddered.

    "How can you ..." Her eyes widened. "You've descended."

    Cecil smiled.

    Cecilia looked around in desperation. She tried to take a step toward the door, but Cecil had already frozen her where she stood. Wildness and rage filled her eyes. Her mouth opened and she began a chant. Cecil sat on the table next to her and cleaned his bloody fingernails.

    Cecilia's eyes became frantic as realization dawned on her. Cecil grinned and pointed at the warded room.

    "Yes, my dear. The room is warded. You cannot cast an invocation. And better yet, your husband will not feel what I'm about to do to you."

    She opened her mouth to scream. Cecil's claws flicked out. He extended one hand and drew a line with his claw around the crown of her head. He lifted off the top of her skull. Her brain vibrated at his touch.

    Unable to restrain himself any longer, Cecil snatched the bulbous organ and bit into the brain matter.

    He recoiled from the power that flooded through him. Too much power for a weak vampire like Cecilia. The brain provided him with a brief link to her memories. Cecil scowled and spat out the flesh.

    "Fuck me, you're a fucking incubus. And a male one at that. I guess I never truly understood when Max would say he only liked a little pussy on the side." Cecil kicked the corpse onto the floor. "Ah well, a girl's got to do, what a girl's got to do." He transformed.

    Cecil had used all but one of the transformations allotted to him but he did not care. His high heels stepped over Cecilia's unrecognizable form. Cecil held up the long, clinging red dress to make sure it did not touch any blood. He glanced in the mirror. Cecilia's green eyes looked back at him. His hands brushed through his flowing sunset hair. He admired his curves and made sure his member sat just right. Max would need to feel it to be lured away from his gambling. He practiced Cecilia's soft, alluring voice a few times. Rupaul ain't got shit on me. Cecil headed down to the main floor with a smile.

    Chandeliers, classical music, and gaming tables abounded. Soft white lights kept the floor in a gentle, perpetual glow. People, both human and supernatural, bustled among each other.

    He picked out Max's unmistakable form at the main table. Several familiars and vampires approached Cecil until they were herded off by guards or their counterparts. Most of the male werebeasts stayed clear. In one corner, one such creature relieved itself. Cecil smiled.

    Life and food in every form flashed before him among the crowd. From the exotic to the ugly. On another day and another time, Cecil may have stopped to partake. Instead, he remained focused as he glided toward Max, his eight-inch stilettos and long legs, drawing attention all on their own.

    He reached Max's back and slid his fingers along the man's slim shoulders. Max did not look back, his eyes were focused on the cards before him. An Ace of Spades. He turned the next card over. A Jack of Spades. Perfect twenty-one.

    "You've had your fill already, honey?" Max asked in a smooth, soft voice.

    "Yes, babe. But now I need something else." Cecil let his member rub against Max's arm.

    "Oh, my." Max chuckled.

    Cecil frowned as a smell from Max tickled his nose—the smell of female arousal. With a quick glance, Cecil noted all the men at the table were enthralled by Max. Max is a woman?

    "Is everything alright, love?" Max glanced at Cecil and her gold eyes locked with his.

    Cecil quickly composed himself. "Yes, just the effects of having drank so much."

    "Ah. And I know how you get at times like this." Max took a deep breath and her eyes shone. "Let's go."

    They strode to the elevators accompanied by Max's guards. Cecil drew on everything he read from his brief glimpse of Max and Cecilia's relationship to make sure Max was none the wiser. After a few kisses, feels and giggles, they exited on the penthouse floor and entered the penthouse. Max made the guards wait outside.

    The first thing Cecil noticed was that there were no wards. Amid more fondling and foreplay, Max led them up into the bedroom.

    "Give me a sec, honey," Max said in a husky voice and swayed toward the bathroom.

    Cecil sat on the wide soft bed, with its four tall posts loaded with intricate carvings and designs. Chained to the bed head were several pairs of silver handcuffs. He siphoned some of his power into them. From there it trickled through the entire room.

    A silver crossbow bolt hit Cecil in the shoulder. Pain seared through him and he grabbed at the shaft. His hands burned. Not just silver, but blessed silver.

    "Where's my wife, and who are you," Max commanded from the bathroom door.

    Cecil's mouth twisted into a morbid grin. He released his hold on Cecilia's skin. It plopped onto the floor next to him.

    Max gasped. "You! You're dead."

    "That’s the same thing Cecilia said before I took her."

    Max kept the loaded crossbow trained on him. She nodded her head toward Cecil's dripping shoulder. "Well, like any other creature of the night, blessed silver can hurt you. So tell me how it is that you're here and not dust."

    Cecil gritted his teeth against the pain. "Well, did you really think that you could kill an entire family line that worshiped and appeased almost every evil imaginable for the past few milennia and nothing would happen?" He pulled the blessed silver from his shoulder and a sizzling sound followed from his burning flesh.

    Max's mouth dropped open. The crossbow clattered to the floor. "What are you?" Realization flashed across her eyes. "You descended? You gave yourself to Azazel. You ignorant, beast. Do you know what you've done?"

    Cecil released his final transformation. His skin tore apart. Arms, legs, and chest swelled until they could no longer contain what clawed its way from his flesh. With one last grunt and wet splash, his true form burst from his old body.

    The Hellhound shook itself and flesh and blood spewed across the room. "I know exactly what I've done. I have the revenge I promised," Cecil said in a guttural voice that was more a growl than speech.

    A blue glow swept across the room as his power activated. A large eye hovered over the bed. The Seventh Gate of Hell opened. The rippling, black form of Azazel the Demonlord stepped through.

    Max turned to run. Azazel's devils alighted on Max's back and began to drag her to the Gate. Max screamed.