Ivan Braginski walked through the frozen town, snow crunching under his feet. Luckily it was midnight, and this part of the town wasn't lit well, so that even if he did run into someone, they wouldn't notice the blood. Not that it mattered much, anyway. It wouldn't be difficult to remove any witnesses.

His latest victim would be found in the morning. The town was fairly isolated from society, so superstitions ran deep. Most people already suspected a vampire lived nearby.

The walk to his house, on the outskirts of town, wasn't a long one, and the cold didn't bother him. He hadn't felt temperatures much in the last hundred years. The pale light from the moon shone down, reflecting off the snow. His dark eyes looked over it all, loving the look of the whiteness. In the morning, he knew, his eyes would fade back to violet, but for now they were almost black.

A black stain in the snow. No, not a stain. A person. Ivan walked over, wondering apathetically if he was still alive. He bent, feeling for a pulse. Cold slowed blood flow, of course. One of the reasons he still cared about the seasons.

Yes, definitely a pulse. But he would probably be dead soon. Not that it mattered to him, but he turned the person over anyway. He had brown hair, and a nice face. There was some blood seeping from the man's coat. If Ivan hadn't already eaten that night, he may have bent over and licked it up.

But as it was, he was faced with two choices. He could leave the man here to die, or he could turn him into one of his own, a being that preyed on humans, never having their fill, and never dying.

Normally, he would have left him there, without a second thought. But something about the brunette intrigued him. Why was he out here in the middle of the night? Why and by whom had he been stabbed?

It was for that reason he hovered over the almost-lifeless body, moving the scarf so he could get at his pale neck. Opening his mouth, Ivan sunk his pointed teeth where he knew a pulsing vein was. There was a moan from the man as blood started flowing into his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around the frail body, Ivan lifted him up slightly, holding their bodies together. When he had swallowed enough blood, he bit his own wrist, making cold crimson fluid flow from there. A hand behind the man's head, he pressed his wrist to chapped lips, opening his mouth so he could drink.

Obviously still unconscious, the man couldn't suck, so blood just dribbled down his throat. Ivan picked him up, his thin body like a feather in immortal arms. Following the snow-covered path up to his house, the tall Russian could feel the man's heartbeat increasing, and hear him breathing.

The great bear of a man trudged through the snow for what seemed like miles until finally, he came upon an old, familiar structure. The old factory was offered no warmth and, in all honesty, barely any shelter. It was enough to keep most of the snow out, and that was all Ivan really cared about. The cold did not affect the undead, but wet clothing was an annoyance.

He carried the smaller man inside and rolled him onto a table, standing up to observe his features from afar.

The man was fair skinned, almost as much as Ivan. His hair was long, practically down to his shoulders, as if he hadn't had the time to get it cut in years. All in all, he was a very plane looking man, nothing remarkable about him. Yet.

Sleepless as he was, it was nothing for Ivan to wait the many hours it took for his new companion to awaken. And when he finally began to twitch and stir, he already smelled of the dead.

Frosted-over eyelashes slowly fluttered open and eyes of vibrant and calming green peeked up at Ivan. And then the man froze - literally and figuratively - in surprise.

Ivan smiled, his thin red lips curving up into what should have been a symbol of happiness. "How are you feeling? Do not be alarmed, I will not hurt you. Well, unless you do something bad."

The man with the long brown hair sat bolt upright, his cold lips parted. He seemed to want to speak, but could barely find the words. He spoke, but his language was not Ivan's, and soon it became an annoyance.

"Don't you know Russian? Of course I would turn a foreigner." He rolled violet eyes to the ceiling and turned away. "I know the awakening can be frightening, so come find me when you have calmed down. Then I will teach you how to hunt."

The man seemed quite shaken, and he yelled out when Ivan left the room. But he did not follow.

As the sun rose on the day to follow, still the man did not seek him out, though Ivan could hear him stumbling around and muttering in his foreign tongue. Ivan's sisters had not yet returned from their hunt, so he was bored, and since he would not need sleep for another week or so, mischief took center stage.

Ivan watched the man for a bit, his new pet. Then he left a cup of blood out for him, because he remembered how thirsty you become after being turned. But it was rather amusing, the new vampire looked at it, sniffed it, and then backed away quite fast. He should be ravenous for blood by now, so why wouldn't he drink?

The playfulness began to take a cruel edge as Ivan began to tear the throats from little animals and placed them in the rooms he knew his plaything would enter. Every time, the green eyed man reeled back, his face white, and make a hasty retreat from the room. Ivan didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed at the blatant disregard for nature.

It became obvious that this man was getting weaker for not having eaten anything. But no matter what, he would not touch the things Ivan left for him. And an unconscious pet was no fun at all, so Ivan brought home something he figured no vampire could resist. Fresh, living blood. The girl was a hooker, so she wouldn't be missed. She was easy to drug. When he got home, Ivan cut one of her wrists and went to find the boy.

When Ivan found him, he was curled up in a corner of the factory's old boiler room, which was fairly pointless- the boiler was ancient and emitted no energy, no heat, and neither would his own body. Not that he would need it anymore. Ivan tossed the unconscious body onto the floor, startling his pet.

"Eat," he said, but the brilliant green eyes only stared. The hunger in them was evident, but even so, his expression was one of repulsion. Ivan growled. "Eat!" And still the man flinched, but did not move toward her.

Ivan crouched down and grabbed the bleeding wrist, squeezing some more blood out. "Can't you smell it? Doesn't it make you want to sink your teeth into her?" To demonstrate, the Russian bit just above the cut, the taste of her blood flooding his mouth.

The pet made a noise, obviously upset, and the mean mischief radiating from Ivan made him sink his teeth deeper, sucking the life from the whore's veins.

Nearby, the man made a retching noise, and irritation sparked in Ivan's mind. In the blink of an eye, he had his pet scrambling under the pressure of the hand at his neck, eyes wide as he gasped for air he didn't need. Hissing, Ivan shoved the bloodied wrist to his mouth. "Quick," he growled, "before she is dead and it turns sour."

But the brunet closed his mouth, even though it was obvious that he had gotten a taste and wanted more. Ivan dug his blunt nails into the skin of the man's neck. "You have vampire blood flowing in your veins, my blood, but you refuse to drink! You might as well die!"

But it was then the door slammed open, wind rushing into the building, and his two sisters stumbled in, one laughing, the other silent.

Ivan let go of the man's throat as his elder sister walked over to him. "Oh, has baby brother gotten a pet? He sure doesn't smell human, at least. Aw and he's so cute, I could just hug him!"

The man immediately wrenched his mouth away from the wrist and hastily scrubbed the blood away with his sleeve, scrambling as far away from the three as he could.

The youngest, a girl with long, platinum hair and dead eyes turned her nose up at him and went to her brother's side. "Why did you turn him? You have us."

"I saw no reason why not. But he is turning out to be... stubborn." He looked over to the man, disgusted by how opposed to vampirism he was being. Ivan had given him a gift! And he was letting the gift rot. But there was no reason to let the hooker's remaining blood go to waste. "If you two are hungry, take her. I believe it is time I taught this pet a lesson."

Ivan noted with satisfaction that those green eyes widened a fraction of an inch with every step closer he took until, finally, he took flight, bolting from the room like prey. Like fun.

After Ivan took chase, Katyusha leaned on her sister and smiled. "His first pet. That's so cute! Now don't you get jealous, I'm sure brother will still have time for us."

Natalia was still looking to where Ivan had disappeared. "Da. If he does not, then I will simply have to remove the problem."

Katyusha gave a fond, toothy little smile when she heard a shrieking cry. "Brother didn't pick the brightest of pets, did he? He will learn to be silent, if Vanya has anything to say about it."

Her younger sister simply stared at the wall when a telltale thump and a hiss rang out throughout the halls.

.oOo.

Ivan angrily tore the throat open of his latest victim. He didn't bother with elegance, he was angry, and what better way to release your anger than by ripping flesh into shreds? He lapped up the blood, and took a vial out to catch the rest. Once home he went straight to where he could smell the man, and before he entered the room, he tipped the glass into his mouth, keeping the blood there.

Quickly he stalked over to the quivering brunet, grabbed him by the chin and pressed their mouths together. As soon as the man's lips parted in surprise, Ivan let the liquid flow between their joined mouths.

His captive, who had introduced himself with poorly rehearsed Russian as "Toris", choked and tried to push him away, but the man was like a brick wall, firm and immovable, and Toris was still under the misconception that he needed oxygen to exist. So he swallowed, gasping for air after and turning his face away from Ivan's.

The old vampire licked a drip of blood from his pet's chin. "There, you see? You want it. You want it so much, so why not just drink it?" But then something caught his eye, Ivan looked down and saw two fresh puncture marks on Toris' arm. He gripped it, looking at the marks. "Who did this? Who?" Who would dare drink from his pet, his property?

Toris flinched and muttered something in his own language, which did all of nothing to quell Ivan's seething anger. He watched, frowning nervously when Ivan stood, and gasped in pain when he was wrenched up by his wrist.

"You are mine, you belong to me! My sister's aren't allowed you!" Ivan dragged him over to the table and pushing him on it, then ripped the brunet's shirt off. "I must mark you so they know not to touch you." He growled, and bit the skin over Toris' collar bone, not very hard, just enough to puncture. Then again, then again. He bit all over Toris' body, ignoring the pained moans.

It wasn't meant to arouse- it was meant to mark, to claim and possess, and that's all it seemed to do. Toris' meat hung limp and lifeless between his legs as his thighs tightened and tensed with every bite, sharp discomfort falling from the man's lips.

When Ivan finally decided it was enough, he pulled away, looking at all the slightly bleeding marks. "You are mine. Don't let them have you."

Toris' face was twisted in muted agony and he was gasping through grit teeth, his skin a deathly white. He was learning to be appropriately quiet, but still not quiet enough.

Looking at his body, Ivan smiled. "You are loosing blood. And you don't have much to spare since you refuse to eat." He lifted his wrist to his mouth, biting into it, and pressed it to Toris' lips. "It will help you heal."

The man with the dark hair shuddered but, as Ivan had been trying to tell him, instinct always won over human decency in the end, and a little pink tongue darted out, tentatively drawing along the torn flesh before his mouth connected and he drank deeply.

Ivan closed his eyes, smiling. "There's a good pet." He reached down and stroked the dark hair, and then grabbed it and pulled his head away from his wrist. "My blood is stronger than human blood, wouldn't want you to get drunk off it."

Unexpectedly, a low growl emitted from the creature's throat, and he wasn't nearly as startled as Toris, who immediately set to wiping his mouth and chin clean, unable to meet Ivan's eyes. "S-sorry," he stuttered in terribly accented Russian.

The Russian chuckled, licking his wrist clean. "Do not apologize. It is instinct for us to want blood. You have been holding yourself back." The exchange of blood always made him feel high, just as it was now. There wasn't any anger anymore, he just enjoyed the feeling.

Indeed, the green eyes that he hadn't noticed dulling were considerably more vibrant. The pet looked around, and though he was still very obviously uncomfortable being so near to Ivan, he didn't look ready to bolt. That didn't really have to mean anything, though; it might just have attributed to a loss of hope for escape. For Ivan's prey, it often did.

After that, Ivan thought that Toris had finally realized that he needed blood to survive, so he brought another unconscious human home. But once again, the brunet scurried away as if the body had the plague. "Why won't you eat? You drank my blood." But, instead of pressing the issue, he just drained the body himself.

And, per usual, the deed just made Toris pale. He always looked physically sick when Ivan drank, and it was baffling. Why did he not understand that it was necessary to survive? Animals fared no better. When the great bear of a vampire brought home a squirming rabbit and tore out its throat, Toris seemed ready to cry. Frustrated and complacent, Ivan ripped at his own flesh, from which the man hastily drank.

He would only drink from a vampire's veins. What an odd little pet.

One night, Natalia brought him home a nice morsel, a man who looked strong, which usually meant he would have oxygen rich blood. Then she looked up at him with large, cold eyes. "I wanted to share him with you, brother. Would you share with me?"

Ivan gave her an indulgent, if strained, smile. "Thank you, sister," he replied softly. "But I have eaten my fill for today."

Her face fell into a scowl. "I see. I hope you don't regret this big brother."

He sensed the cold, gnarled threat in her voice, but though unease crept up his spine, he saw fit to ignore it. It was his sister who loved him only too dearly; surely she would do nothing to harm him.

.oOo.

Toris was alone in one of the large rooms, trying to ignore a patch of congealing blood on the ground. He thought he was alone in the room, but tensed when one of the women vampires walked in. The bad one, with the long hair and the stony face. He quickly looked to the floor, hoping he wouldn't once again make her angry.

But to his surprise, all she did was stand before him. In her language she uttered something, and from the sharp cadence he supposed it was a command. Standing slowly, Toris watched her eyes rake over him coldly. Then she turned and began to walk back toward the door.

He faltered. Was he supposed to follow?

When she got to the door, she turned her head back to look at him so quickly that her hair fluttered. Toris swallowed and stood up, not wanting her to hurt him like she usually did. And there was something pulling him to follow, or maybe pushing him.

He was reminded offhandedly of a siren's song as she walked, and his feet hastened to follow. Though frightening, she was beautiful, her delicate features enchanting, and with every step that enchantment was reinforced. He did not notice that they were walking from the building, nor did he realize that they were slowly making their way into the forest. He simply followed.

The trees started thinning out, but he didn't pay it any mind. All Toris knew was that she wanted him to follow her. She stopped and turned to him, a small smile playing on her lips. The girl pointed ahead, and said something in the foreign language. Even though Toris didn't know what she said, he knew he was supposed to go forward.

So he took one step, and then another, wondering idly why she was pointing him off into the woods when a vicious snarl ripped through the illusion and a firm, iron grip drew tight around his chest, pulling him back from a cliff he had not seen.

Toris gasped, looking down at the hundred foot drop right in front of him. The spell was broken, and he clutched to whatever he could, which seemed to be Ivan, who had suddenly appeared. The old vampire's eyes were pure black, his fingers clawed. He was yelling at the girl, fangs extended fully, and she yelled back.

The man was unceremoniously dropped onto solid earth a safe distance from the cliff as Ivan took a menacing step toward the vicious girl, speaking quickly in Russian. She hissed something back and turned her eyes sharply to Toris, and before she could even take a step, Ivan had her by the throat, slamming her body against a nearby tree.

Her scream pierced the night, and she clawed cruelly at his arm, ripping whatever she could reach. Ivan slammed her against the tree once more, and then dropped her. She fell to the ground, hoarse screams sounded into the night. The Russian picked up his fallen pet and walked back towards the house.

Shivering despite the fact that the cold did not affect him, Toris gripped at Ivan's cloak, seeking an explanation. Why had the girl tried to send him off a cliff? Why had he been rescued? What would happen now? But Ivan just set him on his feet and pushed him into the factory.

Ivan looked down at his arm, closing his eyes at the pain. He could feel the blood dripping down onto the floor. He lifted it up and licked the blood, but it wasn't enough. He needed to feed so that he would heal. Violet eyes turned onto the quivering brunet, Ivan could practically see the blood pumping through his veins.

Toris could feel the predatory gaze on him and, before Ivan could go for his neck, he hastily lifted his arm. It was almost surreal, the way Ivan simply pierced his flesh and drank. He didn't feel torn or threatened. It was as though he was finally serving a purpose, and that thought had him shivering.

The Russian made sure to stop when he had enough to heal his arm. He looked down and saw the flesh slowly sew itself together. "Natalia has a strong charm. You must be more aware." A more experienced vampire would have been able to spot the spell, but Toris was still new.

The brunet's brow furrowed and he said something in that foreign tongue of his before Ivan could hold up his hand to halt the words. He simply stroked his pet's smooth chin, smiling when green eyes grew wide.

"That was the first fight I have had with my sister. She will be angry. Natalia wishes that I didn't have a pet."

After that, Ivan stayed close to Toris. When he went out to hunt, he took the brunet with him. It would not do to have him killed by his sister after all. The brunet didn't like going on hunts with him, but he didn't have a choice.

It was on one of the hunts that Toris noticed something strange. There was a figure hiding in the woods somewhere nearby. And it was strange; Toris could smell it. It wasn't something... beneath, or below. It wasn't prey. But it wasn't familiar, either.

Ivan had obviously noticed it as well. He sniffed the air, and knew it was another vampire. "Wait here." He motioned for Toris to stay, and made his way towards the figure. It started coming into focus, and he could almost recognize it...

A body, quaking as it had ever since Ivan had saved it from the typhoid fever, took a step from behind the tree. A boy with pale hair and nervous eyes stepped nearer to Ivan. "M-master..."

The vampire's canines were showing as he smiled. "If it isn't Raivis. It has been a while." He turned and motioned Toris over, since he knew this vampire was no harm. After all, he was his former pet.

Slowly, Toris complied, his movements calculated and short. The boy posed no threat to him at all, and yet he felt distinctly affronted. Why? He looked to Ivan for explanation, but only felt his feelings validated when those violet eyes fixated on the small man.

The trembling vampire bowed his head. "I- I am sorry for troubling you master. But, the village I was staying in f-found me and r-ran me out. If I could stay here a f-few days?" No matter how strong a vampire was, they couldn't fight hundreds of angry villagers.

Both could smell the tension that mounted in the air when Ivan's hand fell upon the short brown curls, and it was neither of theirs. The great bear of a man didn't even flinch, though Raivis' shaking worsened. "Katyusha does miss you," he said with a childish smile.

"Oh, I-I miss her too. N-not that I don't miss you! Um, b-but... Ivan who is that?" The boy vampire pointed to Toris, who's green eyes were alight with anger.

Ivan glanced over at Toris, a bit surprised. "He is my new pet. Normally he is stupid and avoids confrontation, even with the dying, but now it seems that he is prepared for bloodshed. Why is that, do you think?"

Raivis' shaking increased. "I d-don't know. Maybe he doesn't like m-me?" Which was strange, because with his nervousness and his seemingly young age, people normally cared for him. It was how he got most of his pray.

Ivan chuckled. "And why would he not like you? You are small, innocent Raivis. You are no threat to him." Ivan leered. "And he has the most sickening compassion for things that are no threat to him."

The brunet couldn't stand it anymore, he didn't know what they were talking about, and they kept glancing at him, but Ivan was mostly just looking at this boy. Looking at him like he cared for him. But the Russian shouldn't care for anybody. That just wasn't how it worked. He stepped up till he was right at Ivan's elbow, beside him, but just back enough to be polite. Toris gave him the best questioning look he could.

"Not now, pet," he dismissed, and coldly brushed Toris off. "If you are coming with me, Raivis, I'll have to mark you. Natalia has decided to try and take what is mine. She must know that it is not allowed."

Toris gaped, not knowing exactly what had been said, but the tone was obvious. He turned around, not wanting to see what they were doing.

The boy simply nodded. "P-please don't bite too hard." Raivis turned his head, revealing his neck.

For Toris, it was the sound that did it. The scent upset him rather fiercely, but the sound of fang piercing flesh, the flesh not of prey or foe but companion, of familiarity, and that little whimper the small man let escape his lungs. That was what sent him over. He was blinded by anger, and his body took control, and the next thing his lucid mind registered was the body on the forest floor and the bloodstained snow.

He looked up at Ivan, terrified and shaking, and he was very aware of the liquid dripping down his cheeks. He would hope that they were tears, but the blood on his hands suggested otherwise.

Ivan was chuckling deep in his throat. He knelt down next to the body, touching the ripped open throat. Even a vampire couldn't survive that. "Well, your first kill. A little messy, though. We'll have to work on that." He smiled at his pet, proud of him.

Shuddering and convulsing with violent retches, blood rushed from his stomach and spilled like vomit upon the ground as Toris watched the light fade from the boy's bright eyes, and the last of his humanity dull along with it.

Happy Halloween everyone!