Death Whispers

Rated: R

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh and the song "Somnia Memorias" off of the Parasite Eve soundtrack are not mine!

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, blood, fluff, mild lime but not as mild as the last one.

Notes: Yes, I wrote a sequel even though I should be working on other things…I really like this theme better. This story features lyrics to the ending song of Parasite Eve "Somnia Memorias", which was originally in Spanish, but I worked my ass off looking for the English version of the lyrics to the song for everyone. They just fit the story better. Originally there was going to be a lot of Bakura in this, but yeah, that idea died after about 5000 words. What a waist of time… Story is once again from Jounouchi's point of view. Enjoy.

Oh yes, and to anyone reading this who hasn't read "Embracing Blood" -_-; read it. This can not stand on it's own, trust me.

Song lyrics.

~*~*~

Two weeks. It's been two weeks already since the last time I was able to see him. I've only seen him twice, but it's enough to have me hooked to him. I wish I hadn't been so out of it when he left. I wanted to say goodbye. When he had told me we would meet again, I thought it would only be a few days; not weeks.

It was foolish of me to expect any different of him. After all it did take him a month to show up the second time. He needs to learn how to show up less sporadically. It's driving me up the wall.

I brush my fingers of the healed, and now scarred vein of my neck in which he had taken my blood from. The whole encounter still seems like a dream. The liquid orgasm, the rush of having your blood flow right out of your body, the bittersweet rhythm in which he sucked it out, all of it. It all seemed like on big fantasy.

That's what I would believe if it weren't for the two very distinct marks on my neck. They're kind of hard to miss. I remember my best friend, Yugi's, reaction when he had noticed the marks on my neck. He asked me where exactly I had gotten them from saying how they where so unique and entrancing.

I had told him the story, of course leaving out a few parts. He was far too innocent to be hearing of some of the events in which helped give me these marks. I remember how angry he had been with me after I had told him the story. He yelled at me, saying I shouldn't trust strangers, saying that I could've died.

I told him I really didn't care if I had died then or not. Death would've been a perfect end to the perfect sensation. He only became more enraged. He told me that life was precious, and that I need to conceder the feelings of the people that loved me.

Yugi was always very naïve. I wish I could show him, but again he's far too innocent. He'd probably die of shock if a vampire where ever to try and feed off of him. Poor guy really doesn't know what he's missing.

He told me that I shouldn't go looking for Seto again. That it would be better for my safety. Ha, like I would listen to him. I needed to find Seto. I need to see him again. My sanity is at risk here. I fear if I don't find it soon, that it will be lost forever. I will be lost forever.

So here I am, going to the one place I could think of that he might possibly show up. The library I met him at a month and a half ago. I push open the doors, and enter. The smell of old books fills my senses; tickling my nose and making me want to sneeze.

I make my way back to the mystery section; the very one he had been in before. Unfortunately I find it empty. My eyes find that red and black book "Manhattan Hunt Club," by John Saul. Without realizing, I pick the book up, it's almost as if I was expecting him to reach for it at the same time I as I did.

Wishful thinking. I look it over wondering if I should sit down and read it, but in the end I decide against it. He still might be in another part of the library. So I place the book down and start to look in the other sections. I pass through the romance, general, skip the children's, and move onto the next.

Science Fiction and Fantasy. All of the books here look interesting enough. Maybe he would read some of these. My eyes pass by the works of Kate Elliot, Brian Jacques, and Mercedes Lackey, (1) all of which with their bright colors seem strangely inviting but none of them really catch my interest.

I follow the bookshelf, skipping past countless titles still none of which I have the urge to read. At the end, one of the very last books strikes my interest. It's rather plain looking compared to some of the others. 

Its cover is contains a man and a woman, neither of which you can see their faces. The man is dressed in an old fashion black and white suit, and the woman in a white gown. The man has his lips pressed up against the back of the woman's head, but it isn't the picture that catches my eye. It's the name, "Hotel Transylvania" by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro (2).

Transylvania? The name is commonly used in story of vampires. I pick the book up and begin the read the description on the back.  Indeed it is about vampires, well one certain vampire; Le Comte de Saint-Germain.

I head for one of the chairs to begin reading the novel. Maybe if I read about vampires, I can better understand them. Maybe it could lead me to Seto, or maybe if I stay in the library for long enough he will return to me. So I sit down in one of the wooden chairs around one of the many tables the library provides, and I read.

I feel like I've been on a journey
And that I've come from far away
I've waited so much for this moment
And I don't know if it's God's will
Or my own

I swear that I could hear
Like in a dream
That voice that tells me: Wake up!
And I felt the perfume
Of a lost dream

Time passes by faster then expected as I read of the world of Saint-Germain, a classy vampire that is so much like as I remember Seto. Well, minus the whole name calling, and flipping me thing. Still, I find it so very hard to put down.

So much time passes, and I don't really even notice, and I don't really even care. It must be nightfall by now, the library would be closing soon, but I have no desire to leave this very spot. Leaving would involve me putting the book down; putting the book down detaches me from their world, detaching myself from the world means loosing the image of Seto. Why on earth would I ever want to do that?

True, I could just check the book out for a week and read it countless times. But part of me is still clinging onto the fact that he might show up at any point in time. Thus ending with me being obsessed with this simple book.

I continue reading, though not for long. A voice pulls me away from the world in which has so quickly consumed me.

"I wasn't aware that you could read, let alone read novels of such caliber," my head snapped up hearing the rich velvety voice that I dreamed of every night for months. There he was as beautiful as always, a smug smirk upon his lush lips and his azure eyes drawing me just as they did both times before.

"Of course I can," I reply, "we did meet at a library you know?"

"That I know," He replied with his sweetly demonic smirk deepening as he spoke the words. Watching him is enticing. "But I simple choose to believe that you where there that day for reasons aside from getting a book to read."

I believe I frowned from the spark amusement that flashes in his eyes before I myself spoke. "What makes you so sure of that?" I ask him, defensive, though I really said it because I could think of nothing better to say at that moment. Something about his aura makes my brain go on standby.

"You have not a single book in your apartment besides the one the phonebook," it was almost as if he laughed when he said that. Yet not even a small bout of laughter came from his lips. He was laughing on the inside.

"How observant of you," I counter, though not very cleverly. He says and does nothing as if to prove that he knows what I'm saying. The way he works is interesting and complex unlike myself. I don't believe I will ever be able to understand it. He confuses me, leaving my mind spinning at every second with every word that leaves those plush lips of his. That is one of the many things that draws me to him.

A sharp breath escapes my own lips when I feel a sudden cold on my wrist. He's holding it gently in his hands. His fingers dancing along the vein in a seductive ballet to draw the vein out; each little touch sending jolts up my arm. The smirk on his lips is more mysteriously devilish then amused now.

Drifting among the waves
That come and go
Like a thousand dreams
I can bring back to myself
The memories
that I guard deep inside myself

At the end of dreams, beyond memories
The precious trees bearing sweet fruit call me
At the end of dreams, beyond memories
The precious trees bearing sweet fruit call me
They call me

"W-what are y-you doing…?" I ask him, my voice unstable. Despite my protest in all honesty I do not wish for him to stop. Rather, I wish that he would continue and never stop. If there is a heaven I could think of no other place aside from when he touches me.

There is nothing better then the feel of his skin on my own, the feel of his lips caressing my vein before the two sharp fangs penetrate my flesh and draw the blood, the essence of my being, out of my body. The saccharine burning sensation that flows through my body as he sucks the life out of me, there is no other sentiment that could come even close to topping that.

He places a subtle kiss on my arm. I shudder. The small act of his lips pressed so feebly against me is overwhelming. I lace my fingers in his hair as if to urge him to stop. Of course, actually stopping him would require much more effort then what I'm putting into it.

"A-aren't you a-afraid so-someone will…see?" Another kiss was placed on the tender skin of my arm. I try not to sink into the chair. I try not to lean into his luscious kisses. The temptation burns inside me, and it's not the sensational burning I get when he touches me either. It hurts.

Azure eyes flicker up towards me. I caught a breath, holding it deep inside my lungs as his gaze fell upon me. I was afraid that if I took that if I took that breath, he would leave. It's silly of me, I know, but the last couple of months have been a fantasy for me.

He brought his lips forward, pressing them against mine. They left as soon as they came, but it was splendid to feel them. I believe he did it to show he understood even my unsaid words. It's like he's inside my head. He knows what I want, he knows what I'm thinking and he knows how attached to him I've already become.

His face is just mere millimeters away from mine. Rather, it is his lips that are so close but far away. His ice-cold nose is pushed up against the side of my own, nuzzling it with every move of his head. He spoke to me softly in his heavenly voice, "Why be afraid when the could so easily look away. They will too." There was an all-knowing tone to his voice. It was seductive and intriguing. His lips where so close when he spoke, too close really. I want to close the gap between us and kiss him until the end of time. But I want to hear what he has to say also. So he continued on. "Humans are afraid of what they see, afraid of everything in truth. They tell themselves that what they see could not quite possibly exist. It's a defense mechanism. So you see, you, I, we, have nothing to worry about."

He said humans where afraid. He was right, is right, humans are afraid as I am afraid now. I'm not afraid of what he'll do to me, or of him or what will become of me. I am afraid that he'll disappear.

I was going to speak myself when he cut me off. "But, if it would make you feel more – comfortable – I suppose we could take this elsewhere," I smiled at the words and he lead me off.

If there is nothing more to do
Than to only see sadness
If there is nothing more to do
Than to wait for what is coming
And for what will happen to us

 
We waited so much for the party to end
And our history keeps on fading
And leaves us
With nothing to hope for

How we got to where we are now is a blur to me. I paid no attention to where we where going. I watched only him. I watched the seductive sway of his hip as he walked along the streets and hallways. I watched his neck curve as he turned his head to look at me. I watched every part of him, mesmerizing him completely. He was a flawless masterpiece, like one of those you see in French museums; the paintings that capture your attention and draw you into their world in which you wish you would never escape.

He was one of those paintings. A masterpiece among the world; something we could all gawk at, wanting to make it our own. He was one of those. But you can never own him, I could never own him; he is not one to be owned, he is the one that owns you. I've come to understand that quite clearly. 

It wasn't until I felt the light brush of his fingers against my neck that I realized we had even left the library. He looked at me; the smirk that usually played on the corner of his lips had left, replaced with something unreadable.

I reached my hand up guiding my fingers over the ivory skin, taking in the artic feel and chills it sent through me. His eyelids slipped half way closed. It was only half way so he could watch me, and I watch you inside your eyes. He whispered something, something I could not hear or understand. But the soft whisper of his voice made me grin in glee.

His lips tugged into the shape of smile, but it wasn't a smile. It was empty, incomprehensible really. If there was an emotion inside that expression, I could not find it, but I did not look for it.

His head turned to the side, placing a supple kiss on the palm of his hand that made my skin tickle. Those frosty azure eyes looking out me from the side. A few more kisses where placed on my skin, along the vein.

There was a possessive growl before I felt the stinging pinch of two fangs breaking my skin. A wave of dizziness passed over me, my knees growing weak, and I fall into him. He catches me, his arm wrapped around my waist, embracing me.

I can feel my breathing slow down, taking long even breaths as I look at him through glazed honey eyes. His own azure ones are locked with mine as the blood pours into his mouth. I can hear the slow rhythmic song of my heart pounding in my ears, hypnotizing me.

His icy fingers dance up my side, easily pushing the fabric of my shirt away and playing with my tender skin. And it end all too soon. He pulled his way, his tongue darting out, lapping up the excess blood that trickled down the side of my arm.

He brought his lips to mine; I could taste the blood on them. The hand that was trailing along my side, tugged at my shirt, ripping it off. I chuckled into the kiss.

Drifting among the waves
That come and go
Like a thousand dreams
I can bring back to myself
The memories
That I guard deep inside myself

At long intervals between memories
Something inside me awakened
And I finally knew love, kindness
Sadness and pain
Does this lead everything to its end?

His hand placed it self on my abs, they where painfully cold. I gasped, taking a step back away from the cold hand. He smirked, clearly amused and pushed me down onto a table. At least I thought it was a table. It was a coffin. Strange, I didn't notice it was even there until I was thrown on top of it. I was too preoccupied to care about my surroundings.

He walked up to me in fluid motions. I was entranced by the way he moved. The way he slipped himself atop the coffin, his legs on either side. He pushed his body upwards until his clothed chest was against mine, his hands at my sides.

I'm lost in his azure eyes as they look at me in such a way that makes me loose myself. All that I was before did not matter to me then, all that mattered was that he was there and I was fine with that. I wanted him to be near me, to partake of me as he had done twice already.

Again it is as if he can read my thoughts, which is strange because I thought he would've mentioned it if he could. He whispers to me, and I can feel the tingling cool breeze of his words as they fall from his lips and onto mine. He asked me, "What is it that you want, Katsuya?"

My heart fluttered in my chest, and my body shuddered visibly. There was something about they way that he spoke that was desirable, not matter what he said. I give him an unsure look, not knowing what to say. I know he knows what I want, but I can't help but wonder why it is that he wishes I speak it. "You know what I want," I say back to him.

I'm trembling now; he shifts and lets his full wait fall upon me. The cold feel of death settles in, but I'm still incongruously warm inside. "I'd much rather hear you say it then assume what I already know," He catches my lip in his teeth before letting them go, a curious smirk playing on his features. It's the same smirk that I've grown fond of over these past months. The smirk that haunts my thoughts and minds, and drives me to only want him more then before.

"I want you," I whisper to him. He gets that dangerous glint in his eye, the same one he always does before he bites into me.

He crushes his lips against mine in a kiss that is anything but gentle. I can still taste my own blood inside his mouth. I return his kiss with a little less then equal force, letting my lips part and give him access in order to bring the kiss to deep waters. He obliges, let his tongue flick across my own lips sending jolts of electricity through my body, before letting it slip in my mouth.

As I did before, I submit to completely, letting him dominate me. His hands move from the coffin top and onto his body. They wonder across my chest, making a trail down to my hips where the rest.

He pulls his lips away from me, but I do not whimper at the lost as I expected I would. A strangely gentle kiss was placed on the tip of my nose; it was something I would never expect of him. He did it before he moved down; putting butterfly kisses over my body stopping at my navel and kissing it softly.

His tongue dipped into it, the ice-cold sensation shooting through my body. I shiver, but fight down the urges to warm myself as he does the same leaving a trail back up the one he had made before; this time stopping at my neck.

There he lingered, my head tilting to the side to give him more access. I felt his frostbitten lips brush across the vein. I gasp out as his tongue drags across it.

What comes next comes to no surprise to me. I gasped again as the sharp teeth pierce my skin for the second time today. I felt the familiar stinging, the bubbling burning feeling that comes before the inexpressible sensation. My body burns, but his hands upon me provides a contrasting medium that drives my senses wild.

My head swirls, and I feel like I'm going to loose consciousness. I wish to stay awake. I want to stay awake; I want to see him, to breathe him, to feel more of incredible feeling burning inside of me.

He pulls his fangs out of me, putting sweet icy kisses on my reopened scars. He places another one kiss on my lips before whispering in such a way, it lulls me to my dreamland. "Sleep well," where his words. They where the last thing I heard, the teasing brush of his lips against my lobes the last thing I felt before falling into unconsciousness; one that I was not too please to welcome.

You were always near me
Surely you were near me
I can swear that you were, yes
Close to me
We have to comprehend
And understand
When Sin covers us with his song
The Earth will suffer, suffer, suffer of truth
We must understand, understand

Do not forget, no
Never, never
That sky and earth
And sea and sun give us life
When the color of evil
Fills this land
You will see the wrath of God
And everything will end

My eyes fluttered open, knowing that I could no longer sleep. Each breath I took was slow, drawn out. My body felt weak, it was aching. It was as it had been the first time Seto had partaken of my blood. Seto… I felt the same rush of nausea, but at the same time I feel content.

There's a body beside me, their arms are encircling my hips. I can feel the soft artic breath on my neck. I shiver as turn my head to look at him. His perfect chestnut hair fallen into his face, his plush lips slightly parted revealing two sharp fangs, and eye lids covering his vivid azure eyes.

He was still there. I smiled letting my hands shift from their spot and run over his arms. He doesn't stir from his slumber, but continues to sleep what looks to be peacefully. Each breath drawn in and blown out in such a rhythmic pattern it could easily lull me back to sleep.

Instead it just draws me to his lips. I lean in and press my own against his, pulling him into an uninvited kiss. He makes a sound, one of those in which is hard to describe, and pulls away slightly but moves back a second later, kissing me back.

I wish I could stay here forever, in his deadly embrace.

~*~*~

End Notes:

(1) All of these Authors are stupendous. If you haven't noticed, I enjoy pointing out good reads in order to open people up to the worlds. Read anything by these three, and I can guarantee you will not regret it.

(2) Another one of my favorite books, I make a lot of references to these. Lol. This particular one is actually a very big muse of mine. A lot of the methods used in it are shown in another of my stories. Anyways, if you're a vampire fan, this book is a must. Chelsea is astounding.

Sequel done, and a lot longer then it was meant to be. I do that a lot don't I? Anyways, is anyone up for a third one? I could write it you know. ^_~

Please tell me what you think, it means a lot to me.