Chapter Text
A dull tickle had formed in the back of Zestial’s throat. It was no more than a subtle hint of thirst, one that he had hoped to rectify by drinking the Jasmine tea that Carmilla had prepared for him before the meeting. The sensation vanished after the sip, and the thought of it went to the back of his mind.
Yet Not for long.
Soon enough, the dull tickle returned. Despite sipping more of his tea, the feeling did not leave his throat. He had not felt this feeling since his early days in hell.
Uncontrollable thirst.
His thirst wasn’t for any normal beverage; it could only be satisfied with blood.
Zestial dared to sneak a glance at his beloved swan he had the pleasure of calling friend. In the many years he had known Carmilla and her daughters, he had not dared to confide to her about his vampiric needs. Perhaps, after this meeting he could summon the courage to speak to her.
His desired reaction to the confession would be her lack of fear towards him. She would be supportive of his...condition and ask him if there was anything she could do to help him. It was surprisingly easy for him to imagine his response.
He would smile, say nothing as he pulled her closer to him, releasing her long snowy hair from her horned hair style, combing his long fingers through it. He would lean in, taking a deep breath, smelling the lavender shampoo she prefers. He would place a small kiss on her nec - Zestial shook his head, a warmth growing on his cheeks. He dared not think of his beloved swan like that. Zestial would move away, taking her hand into his, bringing it to his face, nuzzling it, placing a gentle kiss to her skin, before giving a small questioning nip, glancing up at her. Carmilla would nod her head. Zestial would then smile, placing one more kiss to her warm skin, before biting into it, breaking it with a loud pop. Carmilla would gasp, as Zestial moaned, her blood flowing down his throat, the faint smell of copper filling the air of her office.
No.
Zestial shook his head, the wonderful daydream vanishing from his mind. The copper smell was real, and filled the air. Saliva gathered in his mouth as the ever growing scent of blood filled more of the air. His thirst grew with each breath he took, his gums ached as he felt his curved fangs begin to grow, with smaller serrated teeth piercing through the remaining areas of his mouth. The ancient overlord, in attempts to control his growing instinct to feed, clenched his fists tightly. So tightly, that his claws dug into his palms, leaving lines of puncture holes from each tip. His blood pooled in his enclosed fists, slowly overflowing and leaving a trail down his wrists, dripping onto the dark oak table’s surface.
Where was the smell of blood coming from?
Closing his eyes, Zestial tried to focus on the smallest of sounds: the talk of his fellow overlords, and the scratching of the pencil in Carmilla’s hand as she worked, but the scent of blood quickly became overwhelming. The silhouettes of each of his fellow overlords formed in his mind. He could see the precious life source of each of them flow through the veins throughout their bodies. He could hear their hearts, pumping out strong rhythms: thump, thump, thump, thump. There was only one heart that was beating slower, weaker than the others. The owner of the weaker rhythm was…Alastor?
Zestial’s spiders, or the ones that avoided those little cyclops at any rate, revealed that the Radio Demon had faced Adam alone during the Extermination. Was it possible he was injured from the encounter?
Alastor’s silhouette had a single elongated wound from his left shoulder to his right hip, glowing red, his blood slowly oozing from it. Opening his eyes, Zestial studied the infamous man’s chest, finding a section of his red shirt darker than normal. Not looking away from Alastor, Zestial released his right fist, bringing the hand to his lips, his tongue chasing the droplets of blood. The ancient man knew from past experiences that his own blood would do nothing to quench this hunger, yet he did not stop. Nor did he stop the low growl from slipping past his lips.
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Carmilla felt a shiver go up her spine as her sharp hearing picked up the low growl immediately. She stopped working on the blueprint of a rifle that a customer had commissioned to sneak a glance to the man who had long ago captured her heart. He was covering his mouth and his breathing, Carmilla noted, was getting heavier. Shallower. And with each breath he took, a small mix of growls and snarls escaped his mouth.
Something was bothering Zestial, but she didn’t know what it was. Zestial’s attention seemed to be split between nothing at all, to something…or some one . Glancing around the room, she studied the atmosphere. Their fellow overlords were unaware of Zestial’s dilemma, instead focusing on conversation with one another as they waited. The fact that everyone here was waiting for the three Vees, who of course were late as always attending to business elsewhere, irritated her to no end. Carmilla did not know why she let the annoying pretentious nightlight convince her that he had urgent matters to discuss with everyone and called a meeting despite everyone having business elsewhere to attend. Normally she’d start the meeting whether they were here or not, but since it was Vox that called it and she had nothing else to discuss, they were forced to wait.
Her precious daughters, Clara and Odette, were thankfully absent from this meeting, rather decided to spend the day out with friends, so they were spared from that disgusting, biohazardous bug’s existence.
Carmilla was going to avert her attention back to her work, but she paused when saw Rosie’s concerned features from the corner of her eyes. The cannibal overlord was leaning closer to her fellow cannibal and friend, Alastor. Following Rosie’s gaze, Carmilla could understand why she was concerned.
Alastor, who in normal circumstances was hard to read for all but Rosie, was currently an open book. He was in clear pain, sweat building on his face. His hands clutched at the table, leaving deep claw marks into the surface, which normally she’d be mad about, but can’t bring herself to care at the moment. His constant smile seemed strained, with neon green thread appearing in the corners of his mouth, pulling it into the familiar grin. His smile is stitched?! Carmilla thought horrified. His eyes had dark circles under them, telling her that the man had not slept for a number of days. Alastor’s ears, normally held high at full attention, now lowered in distress, twitching at every little sound.
Zestial released a deeper, louder growl, drawing all attention to him. Carmilla watched as Alastor bolt straight up in his seat, his drowsy eyes widening and focused to the right of her. His ears now stood at attention and alert. Deer in headlights , Carmilla humorously thought. Alastor kept his alerted gaze on Zestial as she herself turned to face him. Zestial was now shaking, one of his fists covering his mouth,his breathing now raspy with a mix of pained breaths and snarls.
Could Alastor be the cause of Zestial’s strange behavior? Carmilla wondered. No. That couldn’t be it. Alastor had shown nothing but respect towards her dear spider. She also knew it couldn’t be Valentino, who was the normal cause of Zestial’s anger, as he had not arrived yet.
Whatever was bothering her dear spider, she knew sooner or later, would cause Zestial to snap and lose his famous calm nature. Hesitantly, she placed one of her large clawed hands on Zestial’s larger enclosed fist. He jumped, lowering his hand from his face and his eyes snapping to hers, turning his head to focus upon her. She could see two snake-like fangs poking out from the corners of his mouth. His normally enchanting jade eyes were now glowing, his red pupils showing, which she’s only ever seen when angered..
It took all of her willpower not to shiver under his captivating gaze. “Zestial, my friend are you alright?” Carmilla whispered, concern heavy in her voice.
Zestial continued to stare at her, as if not hearing the question. A sinking feeling formed in the pit of her stomach with each moment he did not respond. Eventually a nod from the man eased her growing anxiety and concern, and he turned his attention back to the Radio Demon.
Carmilla kept her eyes on her dearest friend, when a muffled cough made her focus on the deer in the room instead. Even though she didn’t trust the psychopath, the man had only ever shown respect to her and those she held dear to her heart. For reasons unknown, even to herself, Carmilla decided to check on him. Abandoning her chair, she made her way to the obvious unwell man, the angelic stele shoes echoing with each step. Passing Zestial, Carmilla gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. Moving to look Alastor in the eye, she tenderly asked, “Alastor, is everything alright?”.
Whatever Alastor was going to say, was interrupted by a violent coughing fit. While he did the best he could to muffle the coughing fit, he struggled to get a breath in; his body shaking with each cough as he clutched his chest. The cough became more audible as it continued, and she heard the beginning of gurgling sounds rising in his throat, a sound Carmilla recognized well.
He was choking on his own blood.
“Rosie help me, he’s choking.” Rosie placed her hands on his shoulders, pulling him up from his hunched over position, moving herself closer to him. Carmilla placed her hands on his back and chest, feeling a thick stickiness, only to pull away when Alastor bleated in pain. A flash of red followed her hand movement, and Carmilla looked with horror as her entire hand was coated in blood.
Carmilla instead placed her hand onto his shoulder, and helped him lean against the back of the chair. Alastor, instead of resting against the back, leaned towards Carmilla, still trying and failing to muffle his bloody coughing fit.
Eventually it became too much, and he spat the blood out onto the table, slipping down the corners of his mouth and even dripping down onto Carmilla’s forearm. Rosie leaned closer to them, tears flowing down from her onyx eyes as she held Alastor’s shaky hands, whispering soft comforting words to him and to herself, if Carmilla was being honest. Alastor leaned heavily on Carmilla’s chest, his left ear resting just above her heart. Alastor’s breathing, although still shaky, was slowly evening out. Carmilla did not dare move Alastor, fearful of causing harm as she did earlier, instead decided on letting him rest against her. Alastor’s face looked more drained and tired than before, his smile strained with the neon thread pulling more on the corners of his mouth. His eyes were halfway closed. “I…I apologize Ms. Carmine….” Alastor choked out. “I-I’m getting blood on you.”
His voice was soft, and lacked the usual radio static effect. Carmilla, mindful of his ears, gently caressed his hair away from his forehead. Alastor sighed at the gentleness, his tired eyes falling closed with each slow movement of her hand. Rosie sent a small grateful smile at Carmilla as she continued to whisper soft words to the deer. “Don’t worry about that, Alastor.” And Carmilla was indeed not worried about being coated in his blood, but she did worry for Alastor. From the whispers of the others, they, too, were concerned. Whether it was for the Radio Demon, or what could possibly have injured the man, Carmilla could not decide.
Alastor needed medical attention. And he needed it now. Vaggie had told her that Alastor had fought Adam alone, and she knew there was a chance that Alastor was injured by that sorry excuse of a human soul’s angelic steel guitar. Carmilla knew from experience that small wounds inflicted by angelic steel healed at a slow pace, leaving scars that never faded. With Alastor coughing up blood, his wound was far more severe. He could easily have an infection and be bleeding out, if the amount of blood on her hand was any indicator. But, Carmilla knew if they were to bring him to a hospital, word would get out that the infamous Radio Demon was there, severely injured and in no condition to fight, and trouble wouldn’t be far behind the news.
Carmilla would not get the chance to speak to Alastor about his injury nor maybe bring him to her private doctor, for the only warning she received that something horribly wrong was about to happen was the sound of a chair being rapidly pushed back and falling to the floor with a loud thud, silencing the whispers. Carmilla felt a hand around her waist, pulling her and Alastor apart, and if it wasn’t for Rosie’s quick reflexes catching the Radio Demon by the shoulders, pulling him to lean on her, the man would have fallen and injured himself more. Carmilla’s back met something solid, and her left wrist was gripped tightly. She turned her head, looking up to find Zestial. His pupils were now long cat-like slits, and large snake-like fangs poked out of his mouth as he took deep shallow breaths. Zestial pulled her wrist up to his mouth, inhaling the scent of blood on her palm.
Zestial opened his mouth, showing off the rows of serrated teeth behind each fang. It was then that she realized the cause of his behavior: he’s a vampiric demon. She watched as his long, thin tongue darted out, saliva dripping into her palm, running down her wrist and his hand, before the appendage contacted her warm skin. Carmilla shivered at the feeling of his tongue on her skin as she tried to pull her wrist away and get out of his grasp, making him growl and tighten his hold on her. Alastor had unintentionally set off a blood hunger, and Zestial was now craving blood. But if Zestial fed off Alastor while he was in this condition, the man would surely perish. She heard the chairs of Cillian and Zeezi being pushed back, the legs scraping, but did not fall, but her attention was purely on Zestial, as she watched him continue to lick the blood, releasing low, satisfied purrs.
With a calm voice, Carmilla turned her attention to the others. “Get Alastor out of her-“.
Carmilla’s sentience was cut off, like a territorial beast growling at the thought of his meal being taken away from him. He tightened his grip, pushing her behind him. Carmilla stumbled, crashing into the chair Odette used during meetings with such force that both fell to the floor, her head just barely missing the table’s edge. Carmilla, while regaining her bearings, heard the screams of the others and whipped her head around, looking over her shoulder.
The room stood frozen in fear as Zestial grew taller, the bones in his body snapping and breaking as he hunched over, his back meeting the ceiling. His clothes stretched and tore with each growth to the point that only tattered pants, cloak and hat were all that remained. The movement in his sides caught all attention, before the sound of skin tearing apart as three extra sets of arms burst through his skin, blood splattering on every nearby surface. Carmilla watched in horror as his mouth opened wide, with the corners of his mouth spreading to the bottoms of his ears, eyes now completely red, with black cat-like slits in the center, flashing his teeth to the room.
Zestial middle right skeleton hand shot up, gripping Alastor by his lower jaw, pulling him closer. Alastor winced, digging his hands into Zestial’s wrist as he dug his heels into the floor, putting up a weak fight. This also kicked Rosie from her frozen state of fear.
Rosie rushed forward, grabbing onto Zestial’s hand, trying to pull his grip from around Alastor’s face. The ancient vampiric overlord did not like this, and released a deep snarl, his left middle arm shooting out and grabbing Rosie by her wrists, pulling her closer as well. Alastor’s hands abandoned their spot and reached out to Rosie, pulling at the hand that now held her hostage as well. The upper right arm pulled Alastor’s hands off him, and he then raised Rosie off her feet and threw her to the side. Rosie landed on the table with a loud bang, and she slid towards the edge. If not for Cillian there to catch her, Rosie would have fallen, hitting her head on a seat.
Alastor replaced his hands onto Zestial’s hand and wrist as he was pulled into the air; Zestial’s claws digging into his flesh, as his grip tightened. Zestial placed his lower left hand on the Radio Demon’s chest, his claws tearing small holes in the fabric. Carmilla pushed herself up, as the others began to rush towards the two shadow users. Cillian and Rosie were on Zestial’s left, each pulling on his middle and lower arms. Zeezi had rushed in front of him, grabbing on to his two higher arms, holding them out to the sides. Carmilla ran up to Alastor, pulling onto the wrist holding Alastor’s face, squeezing her other hand between Zestial’s hand and Alastor’s chest. Zestial struggled, trying to free his hands and push the others off of him, but the others held on tight, their energy draining with each movement.
Eventually, Zestial stopped moving, taking deep, exhausted breaths. Carmilla pushed against his hand, ignoring the tearing sound, as she tried to pry the long skeleton fingers from the death grip they held on the clothing. When Carmilla had managed to pry most of his fingers off, Zestial growled, and with new energy, threw his fellow overlords off him, snatching his arms from their grasps. Before any of them could land on the floor, hands gripped their throats, suspending them in the air. At the sound of tearing everyone looked up, horror building on their faces.
Zestial had torn both of Alastor’s jacket and shirt off, the ruined fabric still clutched into his fist.
The room was frozen at the sight of Alastor. His entire upper body was covered in scars and, judging by cutoffs, his lower body was, too. The scars were all different, some larger, some smaller. Some had shown signs of stitches, others did not. But there was one that was more concerning: across his chest, left shoulder to right hip, was a fresh wound, openly bleeding with sloppy hand stitching, like done by the injured overlord himself, either torn or coming undone. His chest was surprisingly fluffy, but matted down with blood.
It was no wonder the man looked ready to collapse, Carmilla thought.
Zestial brought Alastor closer, the wound now in reach of his mouth, licking the blood from the wound. Alastor flinched at the contact, letting out a muffled protest as he tried to pry Zestial’s hands off. Zestial stopped licking, releasing the torn fabric, letting it fall to the floor, before grabbing the back of Alastor’s head and tilting it to the side, creating more room to access his neck.
Carmilla took a frustrated breath, hating herself for what she was about to do, and swung her legs up, landing a deep scratch on his arm. Zestial yelped, dropping everyone to the ground as he clutched his arm, cupping the wound. Carmilla landed on her feet, her hands catching her as she stumbled from the sudden drop. Zestial snarled, baring his teeth at her as he nursed his injured arm, but his attention did not stay on her. Zestial once again had his attention turned to Alastor, who was being helped up by Rosie and Cillian. At the smallest movement from the vampiric overlord, Carmilla pushed herself up, blocking the path to the three overlords, raising her left leg and swinging it at Zestial.
He jumped back, snarling and baring his fangs at her. In response, Carmilla put her hands out in front of her, looking him squarely in the eyes. “Easy, Zestial,” her voice was low and calm as she spoke to him. “Easy, my friend.”
“What are you doing?” Zeezi hissed.
Zestial snarled, raising his lower left arm, swiping at Carmilla. She jumped back, keeping her hands in front of her and her eyes on him, ignoring Zeezi.
“Zestial, it's Carmilla.” Zestial continued to snarl but they weren’t as intense as before, and his eyes softened a little.
“Never mind, you continue to do that,” Zeezi whispered.
Carmilla took a hesitant step forward and Zestial let out a low growl, causing Carmilla to stop moving. For a while, neither moved, just staring back at one another. Carmilla dared to take another small step toward him, and he released a softer, almost curious growl, tilting his head and letting her walk closer. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and whispered soft, comforting words to him as he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. His rapid breathing became calmer, eventually evening out and returning to normal, and when he opened his eyes, the pupils were normal, the red slowly fading back into solid green.
“Carmilla,” Zestial’s voice was strained and rough, which sent a small shiver up Carmilla’s spine at the sound.
When Carmilla opened her mouth to speak, a loud gasping cough interrupted her. She turned her head, watching with horror as Alastor began another coughing fit, coughing up more blood. Carmilla snapped her head back to Zestial as he released a feral growl. His eyes had returned to the slim slit pupils.
Zestial gripped her wrist still cradling his cheek, his claws digging into the flesh, but not puncturing the skin. He threw her hand off him as he went to move around her to get to Alastor, but Carmilla was quicker. She sidestepped, facing him and blocking his path, repeating the motion when he tried to change directions. Zestial, annoyed with her blocking him from his goal, grabbed her shoulders, shoving her down to the floor for the third time. Carmilla landed on her side, turning her head when she heard the others yelling.
Zestial had once again thrown them away from Alastor, picking him up by the face. Zestial again brought the Radio Demon closer, this time ignoring the massive bleeding wound. His mouth was just a few inches away from sinking into the furry skin at his throat when Carmilla managed to push herself up, rushing over to the pair and grabbing onto Zestial’s middle right arm once more.
“Zestial snap out of it!”
Zestial growled as his upper right arm grabbed onto Carmilla’s shoulder, not yet harshly enough to break the skin. With his attention on the ballerina arms dealer, Alastor used the distraction to swing his legs up, kicking the ancient overlord in the jaw.
The move not only put a strain on Alastor’s injury, but also successfully caught Zestial off guard, making him release his grip. Alastor fell to the floor with a pained gasp, managing to stand on shaky legs, backing away from the two.
Angry that his meal had once again escaped him, Zestial took his anger out on the cause of it. With a great force, he shoved Carmilla to the side, his claws shredding the skin of her entire arm as her back collided with the conference table. When Carmilla regained her bearing, she looked up at her dearest friend, his attention now hyper focused on his hand. To her horror, she saw blood, but it wasn’t red, like Alastor or Zestial’s. It was gold, the blood of an angel.
Shit .
Zestial brought the blood covered hand to his lips, licking the golden blood off each of his claws as his eyes met hers.
When the vampiric overlord lunged forward, Carmilla was quick to grip the edges of the table, flipping over to the top and jumping to the other side when Zestial reached out for her again. Zestial followed her onto the table, and Carmilla escaped underneath to flee the hunger-crazed man.
Zestial’s long arms reached over the edges, searching for her by touch, but Carmilla would roll to avoid him, using her elbows to scoot away as needed. Carmilla let out a startled cry when Zestial’s fist went through the table making a grab for her face, but she was quick to roll out from under the table, facing away from Zestial.
Carmilla felt a firm hand on her shoulder, pushing her aside. Carmilla collided with the wall and turned around, expecting Zestial, but instead saw Zeezi’s back to her. The other Overlord had gripped Zestial’s hands with her own, and the two pushed against one another, trying to gain the upper hand. To her horror, Zestial placed his other arms on Zeezi’s arms and shoulders, pulling the raptor overlord closer, lifting her over his head and throwing her behind him with great force.
Zeezi went crashing into the others, as they headed toward the doors, intending to get Alastor out. The four bodies fell to the floor with groans of pain falling from their lips.
Before Carmilla or any of the others could react, Zestial rushed to her, grabbing onto her lower jaw and pulling her closer to him. She beat her arms against his strong bony chest, pushing against him as tears formed in her eyes.
Cillian had managed to get up from his place on the floor, yelling for Zestial to release her, but Zestial only growled, grabbing onto the flaming skull overlord and throwing him into the table. At the same time, Zestial had used two of his other hands to grab Carmilla’s arms, holding them to her sides as he used another to pull her waist to his. The hand on her jaw guided her face to tilt, leaving her neck exposed. Carmilla did the best she could to shake her head and plead past her covered mouth, a desperate attempt of telling him no.
Zestial used his last remaining hand to comb his fingers through her horned hair style, in a soothing and intimate motion, freeing her long locks and holding her head still. With no further warning, she felt his fangs and serrated teeth on her neck and shoulder slowly sink into the skin, finally breaking through with a loud pop. Her tears now freely falling in fear and pain, Carmilla released a muffled cry.