Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > A Little Less 16 Candles... continued...
Brendon stood at the door to Pete’s cell. Momentarily he wondered why it was so far from his human friends - surely having them nearby to hear each other scream was much more satisfying? He turned his lips down in an angry scowl, his expression dripped of distaste at even the thought of ‘human friends’. Even the idea of friends was a difficult concept for a vampire of his age. The newer ones had recollections of friendship, but were able to cast it aside as unnecessary and weak. Brendon, a vampire for fifty-two years, had already completely eradicated the memory.
The closest thing a vampire had to a friend was another vampire that owed a debt of gratitude for a life saved. They worked together, killed together, sometimes even fed together, but rely on each other? Trust each other? Brendon didn’t even trust Beckett and he was damn sure that Beckett didn’t trust him.
Within their coven, friendship was weakness, reliance and trust eventually led to treachery and death. An intelligent vampire relied only on himself. An intelligent vampire survived.
And yet, here was Pete Wentz, a vampire with friends. Human friends! If he had spoken the words out loud, they would certainly have stuck in his throat. Humans were slaves or food, nothing more.
“Brendon!”
“William?” Brendon turned, replying with an automatic deferential nod as the tall and elegantly dressed coven leader walked towards him with long purposeful strides.
“Master William,” he corrected with an arrogant smile.
Brendon’s eyes widened and his lips parted slightly as if to speak, but the words were lost. Outside of his office, with the exception of meetings with other coven leaders and their seconds, Beckett had never before insisted that Brendon call him Master. Brendon’s mind raced. Was this because of Pete? Was he already relegated? It was humiliating, degrading and it was fuel for the fire.
“You… you want me to call you Master?” Brendon stammered, his eyes drawn towards the door and back.
“You think you could manage that?” Beckett replied sarcastically.
Brendon nodded, looking down as he spoke. “Yes, Master William.”
Beckett extended a slender finger and lifted Brendon’s chin forcing him to look at him. Beckett’s expression softened into a playful smile as his aide’s large brown eyes displayed the confusion and distress he felt.
“Brendon, it is necessary, trust me,” Beckett nodded as he spoke to reinforce the suggestion. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course, Master,” Brendon lied. “But…”
“When have I ever done anything to suggest that you couldn’t?” Beckett interrupted.
Your obsession with re-capturing Pete!
Favouring him over me!
Ordering me to call you Master!
“Never,” Brendon lied again.
“Good,” Beckett nodded. “I want five minutes alone with Peter. When I’m ready, I will call you in.”
“Alone? Why do you need to be in there alone?”
Beckett rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.
“Brendon, do you want to be punished? Again? I told you not to question me over my treatment of him and here you are again doing just that.”
“I’m sorry, Will… Master William. I just don’t understand why…”
“You don’t need to understand, you just need to follow orders. I don’t expect that to be a problem. Is it?”
Brendon’s shoulders sagged. “No, Master.”
“Good.”
Opening the door to Pete’s cell, Beckett smiled at his prize; he had waited for this for a long time. Closing the door behind him on a furious Brendon, Beckett stepped forward.
The cell was approximately twenty foot square and made of solid stone walls, floor and ceiling. No hidden panels, no secret doors. Whoever found themselves in one of Beckett’s cells was not expected to escape. Apart from the multi-locked six-inch thick reinforced steel door, a few feet into the cell were floor to ceiling bars. Each bar so thick that a hand couldn’t encircle it, each buried deep into the floor and ceiling. The larger section beyond was split lengthways by yet more bars so that two individual cells stood alongside each other with viewing access from the main door.
In the centre of each section, a barred door allowed access from one area to the next. Again a series of locks, this time electro-magnetic and operated remotely, kept both sides secure.
In one side, Pete Wentz sat, leaning up against the wall, heavily manacled at his wrists and ankles.
“Peter,” Beckett cooed. “It’s so good to have you back in the fold.”
Pete refused to even look at him. Bottling up all his anger and frustration, Pete kept his stare fixed firmly on the floor in front of him.
“Peter,” Beckett spoke with a controlled anger to his tone. “You have two choices. You return to us willingly and accept me as your master, or, I force you.”
Pete glanced up at the words, frowning at Beckett’s infuriatingly smug expression. “You have no hold over me, you can’t force me.”
“How!” Beckett suddenly screamed angrily. “How did you retain your will, your humanity?”
Pete smiled as Beckett lost his composure completely; it had taken so little time. It was as if Pete knew Beckett well, so well that he could easily find the words or actions to infuriate him. But in reality, the vampire who turned him was a mystery to Pete. From the moment he was bitten and abducted, Pete had refused to follow Beckett’s orders. Waking up to find himself a vampire had been a harrowing experience for him. He was painfully aware that others woke, pleased with their new existence. Accepting of their evil and gleeful at the thought of being part of one of the most sophisticated, respected and feared covens. But not him. He didn’t know why, he didn’t care why, but he was glad. Escaping from Beckett hadn’t been easy, but he had managed it. He had done it once, he could do it again.
“I don’t know,” Pete replied quietly inspecting the chains around his wrists, searching for weaknesses. “Why do you care?”
Beckett frowned. “Because of you, other coven leaders are laughing at me. Once I have you back under my control, everything…”
“I was never under your control!” Pete yelled back pushing himself to his feet and approaching the bars as far as the chains would allow. “You’re deluding yourself!”
“I know how you escaped control,” Beckett replied smugly. “How you continue to deny your vampirism.”
Pete tilted his head back slightly, frowning at the words; did Beckett really know or was he bluffing?
“Oh yes!” Beckett’s assumed superiority and arrogance flooded back at Pete’s reaction. “I know how you evaded your first drink of blood. The one thing over you that I entrusted to Brendon and he failed me. To this day he doesn’t realise that I know you didn’t drink the blood he gave you. That first drink is vitally important to a freshly turned vampire, and Brendon is as much aware of that as I am. I believe that first drink is why you managed to evade my control. His failure has made me look foolish and I don’t like it.”
“You expect me to care?” Pete laughed at the idea.
“No,” Beckett smiled smugly and shook his head lightly.
Pete’s laugh faded with Beckett’s new expression. He smiled like a man who held all the cards, which, Pete realised, on reflection, he did.
“I know how you fought against making your first kill and escaped back to your hunter friends. I know how your little friend makes you drinks from animal blood, tempered with garlic and holy water to weaken the bloodlust in you.”
“How do you know?” Pete yelled suddenly fearing the possibility that there was a spy within their group feeding information back to Beckett. Was that how the trap had been laid for them?
Beckett smiled. “I have my sources and I have your two hunter friends here.”
“Two?” Pete frowned deeper. “You mean three?”
Beckett’s self-satisfied smile broadened into an equally smug grin. “Joe is not your friend,” he laughed, cruelly implanting the idea that Joe had betrayed them.
“No!” Pete pulled furiously on the chains. “You’re lying! You’re lying! Joe would never do that!”
Beckett laughed. “Believe what you like, if it makes you feel better to deny the truth.”
“No!”
Pete lowered his head, angry and confused. Even though he truly wanted to believe that Beckett was lying to him, he couldn’t see a motive. Beckett had him, he had Patrick and Andy too. What did it matter what Pete believed about Joe?
“Separated from your concoctions, your bloodlust will increase hour by hour. Soon, your craving will overtake you. You won’t be able to control yourself, and you will drink.”
Pete’s brow furrowed at the words, which he knew to be true. Without Patrick’s blend, he was helpless against his bloodlust and with no blood at all, not even animal blood, his thirst would deepen. He feared being out of control more than anything.
“The second cell,” Beckett waved his arm in a sweeping gesture to indicate the adjacent cell, “this is to house your first meal.”
“You… you can’t be serious?” Pete looked up, his eyes wide with fear. “You’re gonna put a human in there and wait until I can’t stop myself?”
Beckett smiled cruelly. “Not just any human. Your group’s intrepid leader.”
“P… Patrick! No, please! I’ll join you! I’ll call you Master, anything, everything, but please don’t make me do that!”
“You will join me, you will call me Master and you will kill Patrick!”
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A/N - Please review!
The closest thing a vampire had to a friend was another vampire that owed a debt of gratitude for a life saved. They worked together, killed together, sometimes even fed together, but rely on each other? Trust each other? Brendon didn’t even trust Beckett and he was damn sure that Beckett didn’t trust him.
Within their coven, friendship was weakness, reliance and trust eventually led to treachery and death. An intelligent vampire relied only on himself. An intelligent vampire survived.
And yet, here was Pete Wentz, a vampire with friends. Human friends! If he had spoken the words out loud, they would certainly have stuck in his throat. Humans were slaves or food, nothing more.
“Brendon!”
“William?” Brendon turned, replying with an automatic deferential nod as the tall and elegantly dressed coven leader walked towards him with long purposeful strides.
“Master William,” he corrected with an arrogant smile.
Brendon’s eyes widened and his lips parted slightly as if to speak, but the words were lost. Outside of his office, with the exception of meetings with other coven leaders and their seconds, Beckett had never before insisted that Brendon call him Master. Brendon’s mind raced. Was this because of Pete? Was he already relegated? It was humiliating, degrading and it was fuel for the fire.
“You… you want me to call you Master?” Brendon stammered, his eyes drawn towards the door and back.
“You think you could manage that?” Beckett replied sarcastically.
Brendon nodded, looking down as he spoke. “Yes, Master William.”
Beckett extended a slender finger and lifted Brendon’s chin forcing him to look at him. Beckett’s expression softened into a playful smile as his aide’s large brown eyes displayed the confusion and distress he felt.
“Brendon, it is necessary, trust me,” Beckett nodded as he spoke to reinforce the suggestion. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course, Master,” Brendon lied. “But…”
“When have I ever done anything to suggest that you couldn’t?” Beckett interrupted.
Your obsession with re-capturing Pete!
Favouring him over me!
Ordering me to call you Master!
“Never,” Brendon lied again.
“Good,” Beckett nodded. “I want five minutes alone with Peter. When I’m ready, I will call you in.”
“Alone? Why do you need to be in there alone?”
Beckett rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.
“Brendon, do you want to be punished? Again? I told you not to question me over my treatment of him and here you are again doing just that.”
“I’m sorry, Will… Master William. I just don’t understand why…”
“You don’t need to understand, you just need to follow orders. I don’t expect that to be a problem. Is it?”
Brendon’s shoulders sagged. “No, Master.”
“Good.”
Opening the door to Pete’s cell, Beckett smiled at his prize; he had waited for this for a long time. Closing the door behind him on a furious Brendon, Beckett stepped forward.
The cell was approximately twenty foot square and made of solid stone walls, floor and ceiling. No hidden panels, no secret doors. Whoever found themselves in one of Beckett’s cells was not expected to escape. Apart from the multi-locked six-inch thick reinforced steel door, a few feet into the cell were floor to ceiling bars. Each bar so thick that a hand couldn’t encircle it, each buried deep into the floor and ceiling. The larger section beyond was split lengthways by yet more bars so that two individual cells stood alongside each other with viewing access from the main door.
In the centre of each section, a barred door allowed access from one area to the next. Again a series of locks, this time electro-magnetic and operated remotely, kept both sides secure.
In one side, Pete Wentz sat, leaning up against the wall, heavily manacled at his wrists and ankles.
“Peter,” Beckett cooed. “It’s so good to have you back in the fold.”
Pete refused to even look at him. Bottling up all his anger and frustration, Pete kept his stare fixed firmly on the floor in front of him.
“Peter,” Beckett spoke with a controlled anger to his tone. “You have two choices. You return to us willingly and accept me as your master, or, I force you.”
Pete glanced up at the words, frowning at Beckett’s infuriatingly smug expression. “You have no hold over me, you can’t force me.”
“How!” Beckett suddenly screamed angrily. “How did you retain your will, your humanity?”
Pete smiled as Beckett lost his composure completely; it had taken so little time. It was as if Pete knew Beckett well, so well that he could easily find the words or actions to infuriate him. But in reality, the vampire who turned him was a mystery to Pete. From the moment he was bitten and abducted, Pete had refused to follow Beckett’s orders. Waking up to find himself a vampire had been a harrowing experience for him. He was painfully aware that others woke, pleased with their new existence. Accepting of their evil and gleeful at the thought of being part of one of the most sophisticated, respected and feared covens. But not him. He didn’t know why, he didn’t care why, but he was glad. Escaping from Beckett hadn’t been easy, but he had managed it. He had done it once, he could do it again.
“I don’t know,” Pete replied quietly inspecting the chains around his wrists, searching for weaknesses. “Why do you care?”
Beckett frowned. “Because of you, other coven leaders are laughing at me. Once I have you back under my control, everything…”
“I was never under your control!” Pete yelled back pushing himself to his feet and approaching the bars as far as the chains would allow. “You’re deluding yourself!”
“I know how you escaped control,” Beckett replied smugly. “How you continue to deny your vampirism.”
Pete tilted his head back slightly, frowning at the words; did Beckett really know or was he bluffing?
“Oh yes!” Beckett’s assumed superiority and arrogance flooded back at Pete’s reaction. “I know how you evaded your first drink of blood. The one thing over you that I entrusted to Brendon and he failed me. To this day he doesn’t realise that I know you didn’t drink the blood he gave you. That first drink is vitally important to a freshly turned vampire, and Brendon is as much aware of that as I am. I believe that first drink is why you managed to evade my control. His failure has made me look foolish and I don’t like it.”
“You expect me to care?” Pete laughed at the idea.
“No,” Beckett smiled smugly and shook his head lightly.
Pete’s laugh faded with Beckett’s new expression. He smiled like a man who held all the cards, which, Pete realised, on reflection, he did.
“I know how you fought against making your first kill and escaped back to your hunter friends. I know how your little friend makes you drinks from animal blood, tempered with garlic and holy water to weaken the bloodlust in you.”
“How do you know?” Pete yelled suddenly fearing the possibility that there was a spy within their group feeding information back to Beckett. Was that how the trap had been laid for them?
Beckett smiled. “I have my sources and I have your two hunter friends here.”
“Two?” Pete frowned deeper. “You mean three?”
Beckett’s self-satisfied smile broadened into an equally smug grin. “Joe is not your friend,” he laughed, cruelly implanting the idea that Joe had betrayed them.
“No!” Pete pulled furiously on the chains. “You’re lying! You’re lying! Joe would never do that!”
Beckett laughed. “Believe what you like, if it makes you feel better to deny the truth.”
“No!”
Pete lowered his head, angry and confused. Even though he truly wanted to believe that Beckett was lying to him, he couldn’t see a motive. Beckett had him, he had Patrick and Andy too. What did it matter what Pete believed about Joe?
“Separated from your concoctions, your bloodlust will increase hour by hour. Soon, your craving will overtake you. You won’t be able to control yourself, and you will drink.”
Pete’s brow furrowed at the words, which he knew to be true. Without Patrick’s blend, he was helpless against his bloodlust and with no blood at all, not even animal blood, his thirst would deepen. He feared being out of control more than anything.
“The second cell,” Beckett waved his arm in a sweeping gesture to indicate the adjacent cell, “this is to house your first meal.”
“You… you can’t be serious?” Pete looked up, his eyes wide with fear. “You’re gonna put a human in there and wait until I can’t stop myself?”
Beckett smiled cruelly. “Not just any human. Your group’s intrepid leader.”
“P… Patrick! No, please! I’ll join you! I’ll call you Master, anything, everything, but please don’t make me do that!”
“You will join me, you will call me Master and you will kill Patrick!”
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A/N - Please review!
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