Aliand Thorpe wasn't against having fun. He was a bit of a rebel in his family. Always the one to defend his brother with violence if violence sought him out. And to question father. They'd let him have a little apartment of his own at the edge of their neighborhood. Freedom, if he checked in every day. His brother envied him. The myriad lights incinerated Aliand's bright, green eyes until they flecked like fireworks. He'd not had the vodka he ordered yet when a girl came over to him and tipped it into her own sizable lips. She was beautiful because she wanted to be, and there, in the collection of pretties, there was one who was simply so because she was. Aliand smiled at the redhead when he couldn't hear the leader, raven-haired - later Leigh, she insisted - over the beckoning music.<br/><br/>The group had noticed his initial interest, and funneled his attention toward the pretty new thing. They way they went on, the company of the ivory girl with the rose swell around her stately features was contingent on his friendliness with them all. Aliand wasn't opposed to making new friends, and was used to smiling politely to girls that really wanted more than to make his acquaintance. Mother had said he was handsome with his svelte face and the softness of his skin. Black hair like a demon, she'd tease him, and those new-spring eyes. Maybe the darkness women saw in the shadows of behind his soft expression was exactly why some of them would look his way, even when singing hymns in old wooden benches.<br/><br/>But this was not a church, despite the communion. The preachers here didn't wear robes as they sang through black boxes and turned the air into another religion that went down better the more of the offered, chemical blood you drank. Not Christ's, but Jack, and no holy ghost, but the strong tingle on your tongue and swirl in your head. When they asked him to come along he knew he shouldn't, with all the confusion smearing his common sense at the very back wall of his vibrating cranium, but he did follow, when they dangled the alabaster lass in front of him. Ah, he was weak for her, it seemed, and it was apparent.<br/><br/>They were going to get him ready, they promised, and he thought it was too soon. He shouldn't have let them expose his chest or tasted their tongues, especially when the chill of the venue had awakened a few sensible thoughts in him. Why was Leigh holding him down? And why was Danielle struggling between two of her friends? The glare off the arcane dagger was sobering, burning his mind clean as it left a green and white sun, printed into his vision. He fought but the restrains were perfect. When he protested they took the blade to Danielle instead. He groaned in confusion and a bit of shameful comfort when her blood heated the skin over his sternum. Hooded girls whose face he'd forgotten started drawing in the spilled life with their hot fingers. Their eyes became hollow and veins pulsed out from those sockets passed their temples. It was macabre and entrancing.<br/><br/>First, when they sang songs he'd not heard before in the same reverence as his relatives and friends on Sunday, he felt lulled. And then the blood moved into him like the music from tightly drawn strings multiply into their wooden boxes. He hissed as that net of sensation captured his heart, and every angry and sinful thought he'd tasted regurgitated into the bowl of his head and swam in his bones. Acts his god had forbidden played like he'd lived them.<br/><br/>His pupils, that precious mother's green, fractured perfectly into three slices, darker. He tried to breathe because it was the only thing he could do, but tendrils inside wrecked havoc with both his organs and his rabid emotions. It was like having your living body parts and feeling heart flung into an erratic, concentrated maelstrom. Those tendrils licked as his upper back and coiled low in his belly. Leigh straddled him, her hands locked in prayer around the dagger that had spilled Danielle over him.<br/><br/>He twisted to the side when Leigh undid her robe to entice him with her intentionally lewdly positioned and arched body. He tried to aim his attention elsewhere, since a violent kind of craving built in him. It was disproportional to what the situation should have earned. He felt starved for her flesh above him, and most of his control was undone when their chants became louder than the music when they'd first met, and all the other women also pulled their cloth apart. His addled eyes flared with some hope when he saw the door between those bodies, and glimpsed a distressed but still serene Danielle.<br/><br/>"You're going to usher in a new day when you have your new arms. You will slaughter this world and father a new one." Leigh promised and he couldn't possibly know what the beautiful woman with ready, slick insides was saying. He wanted to throw her off but he also wanted to fill her up. The ring of women closed, and he closed his new eyes so he could fight the urge to call out to them, order them to let him have at their flesh.