An unshaped mass of thick darkness formed somewhat like a surface with a bulge, which he was lying on. Sometimes he could see something in the darkness, like a memorie, a flash of consciousness. When he looked deeper into it he saw something more: faces, places and, oh, what was that? A name?
Sounded familiar. In this bizzare place of madness and no-time universe he wondered, was it his name? Somehow, it suited him.
Well, who cares, it doesn't even matter now and here, he could as well be called Pip Bernadotte.
Even though, he didn't feel like having eyes, but he could see, or rather, feel everything around, in the way like he could everywhere or nowhere; he could choose from which point he wanted to observe and yet still see everything around.
Unusual sensation, highly unusual.
It wasn't a room, it was a space; nor big, nor small. Just space. Something, which allowed him to lie, was filling the space. It was that mass of pictures and feelings - and madness. Pip felt like he should have experianced insanity as something abnormal, but it seemed like it fit the place, it was a part of a scene. It's thin dark-red thread was appearing here and there, plaiting and linking memories a black mass together.
Oh, yes, and there he lied. Naked, with bruises all over the body, the remains of someone he used to be. The loose hair was scattered around his head like a halo. One of his eyes was missed, the second one was staring motionlessly in the nowhere.
Time didn't exist here, so Bernadotte couldn't tell if he was lying there for short or long. What seemed like an eternity or like a moment was interupted by her turn up.
She circuled Bernadotte, hiding in the shadows, like a hunter watching the future victim.
She licked her lips, showing two elongated fangs by an accident.
Her red, no, crimson red eyes flashed in the space and Pip knew she was coming.
Who was she?
He couldn't make a sound but words were useless here. Memories whispered that her name was Victoria, Seras Victoria.
Thought I should be afraid" appeared in some far corner of Bernadotte's realization. But somehow, he felt that fear was meaningless. He wouldn't escape from there, that place was the one he belonged to. Pip still didn't know what would happen to him, but he didn't worry; Draculina was here. She wasn't only the part of this space, she was a materialized form, the pure embodiment of memories.
Seras made a step toward him. The pair of crimson eyes was looking at him with a curiosity, but it wasn't who-are-you-? kind of interest since she exactly knew who he was, maybe even better than himself but the I-want-to-ascertain-you one.
She reached out her hand and touched him, slightly. Then she made a stronger grip like she wanted to check if he was solid. Then Draculina caught him that strong by the side, that her fingers hammerred into his flesh like claws. Thick, dark lotion flew out of the wound; word pain" appeared in his consciousness, but it was relative here, and Seras looked rather concerned about what have just happened now. She raised her hand and was watching it closly, like a scientist looking at the new discover, with a mix of dismay and interest. She licked it and finally Pip felt something real.
In this dimension of bloody madness and unreality, the sparkle, no, interim and intensive flame of pleasure lightened everything. Seras felt that too. She licked her lips, getting off of the remains of the sweet juice.
After that, she didn't seem to have any more doubts nor hesitation. She mounted him, before he could guess, they were coupled and finally together. World, space, dimension, memories wherever they were in turned into passionate color of red. Everything seemed mad and everything seemed ordinar, because any borders disappeared. They were mixing in insane spiral of love.
But 'they' wouldn't be the best phrase.
Seras growled seeing him so still. Even while they were tuned into one, Pip couldn't move. He could feel, he could observe, he could hear, he could taste a bitter-sweet taste of her love. But he couldn't have moved his body. Pip couldn't respond for a call of her desire, her longing after him, even though he felt it like his own. Draculina finished their intercourse and touched his face. Bernadotte wanted so bad to snuggle against her hand, to lick her fingers off of his liquid. Seras' eyes were sad, they were asking him to show that he was alive, was a living creature.
Seras whined and howled, she was so desparate. She caught him by his shoulders and shook him.
But Pip wouldn't move.
Talk to me!
But he remained silent.
But he was dead.
Draculina bayed once again, her unreal voice echoed through the dimension and turned everything around. The red hue of her lust disappeared, deputised by furious, and somehow hollowed, blackness. Her right hand sneaked to his chest and it was placed where his heart was suppoused to be. Fingers, each one sharp like a knife, hammered into his bruised flesh of a soldier, memories kept that side of him too. Skin got torn as Seras' claws went deeper and deeper. Again, thick and oily grease went out of the wound, Pip's body seemed like tender dough under her touch. But this time she hadn't stopped. She got under his skin and torn off part of flesh from his chest.
It would hurt but it didn't. Actually, Bernadotte found it delighting; the feeling of her fingers in him.
Seras went down, tearing more of his skin with every passing centimeter, opening him. Black liquid was flowing out of him and memories kept on drinking it rapaciously. Seras took out four of her fingers, leaving the index finger only.
Pip should have been screaming out of pain.
Draculina glanced at him, like she wasn't really sure what she was about to do would scare him or not. But Pip didn't mind at all. The only thing he wanted was continuation of this frightening pleasure.
And so, like she would have read his thoughts, she went down and her finger started to tear his torso for two parts. Slowly, slowly. She finished just above his abdomen. Bernadotte, using his ability to observe this place from wherever he wanted, looked at his no-existing chest.
It was a lake of purple-black liquid instead of any organs he was ought to have. Or so he thought. Seras plucked the surface slightly, making small and lazy circles. The liquid started to overflow and every drop, which fell to the 'ground' dissapeared. She drove her hand deeper into him, totally immersing in. Then she took the hand out, watching closely how slowly that something from his was dropping. Draculina enclosed her head and licked the liquid out precisely. The no-world around shook, memories shattered, everything became scarlet.
Seras seemed to be thrown into ecstasy, and so Pip did. But it still wasn't an end to this, that was the only thing Pip was sure about. Who he was, who he is didn't matter anymore, everything faded into their or was it only hers? - passion. He was part of her, that was all he needed, but there was one more act to accomplish, to make them as one, and Seras, his Seras knew that. She was already an eager to complete their destinates.
High scream pierced the sphere; it was Seras' reply for the call of Bernadotte's blood. She gave up into that call, completely caving in him, forgetting, smearing, tasting, intoxicating.
He was around - she was in him, he was inside - she was on the top.
They were feeling together, at the same time seperated, like a one being and as the two.
They were caressing each other and themselves.
They were together and not-together.
Seras and Bernadotte, Bernadotte and Seras, the true vampire.