Date: Fri, 28 Sep 2012 16:12:27 -0700 (PDT) From: Nate House Subject: Embrace The Enemy 5 Welcome back for a new chapter! I know this story started off kind of slow, but trust me when I say all of that will come into play before the end--nothing happens by accident. That's one of the first lessons I learned (the hard way) about writing: Every event and action serves a purpose, be it character development, plot development, build suspense, or just to simply describe how character X got from Point A to Point B. There's a good free tip for all of you aspiring writers. As you may have noticed the last chapter was told from Charlie's point of view, as was all of Abandoned Blood, but now I'm going to switch it up a bit. The perspective will alter between our two leading ladies for the next few chapters. As a "viewer's guide" (if you will) when it's told from Charlie's perspective, it's in modern times, when it's told in Nadia's perspective, it's her telling her own story. Now don't say I didn't warn you. Though special attention is given to historical accuracy, and is inspired by true event, this story is borne from my imagination. Some of the people who appear, and events that transpire, in this tale actually did exist in history, and will be credited at the end, however, those people and events are used in a parodic manner for plot and character development. Any resemblance of my characters to any person, real or fictional, dead or alive, is entirely coincidental. This story contains graphic material including but not limited to bloody wartime sequences, bodily dismemberment, physical and psychological torture, rape, murder of men, women, and children, spousal and child abuse, gang beatings, and public hangings. This story also contains graphic sexual encounters of two female characters, among others. If you are not of legal age to view this content in you home town/area, the author is not responsible for any harms the befall upon you. This story is the property of the author and is copyrighted to me. If you would like to download it for your own entertainment, you need only ask; basically I'm asking for you not to steal it. I'm not going to spoil it for anyone, but, as we gather from what we already know from the previous story/chapters, Nadia's childhood and life in general were not pleasant, to put it mildly. I won't say what happens, just be ready for what does. ******************** Chapter 5 **~**~NADIA'S PERSPECTIVE~**~** How could it have come to this? I'm lying naked on my bed, curled up against the woman of my dreams, and all I can do is sob like a lost and lonely child. My heart ached at the thought of my own visage. Perhaps that's where I went wrong in life: I pity my own existence. Everything I've done to survive for this long tainted everything I've done to show the woman holding me now how much I love her. Charlene Candice Coventry. The sound of her name alone gives my soul reason to endure. After Marianna left me and I retreated back into Father Darien's fold. I thought my life as I knew it had come to it's bitter end; I gave up on myself for years. Then one day, the Father tells me to keep an eye on this 'new morsel' at the university and everything changed. Her aura was the most powerful I've ever felt from a human being. Her devotion to her friends was rewarded with a stark reciprocation--the bonds they have to each other was overwhelming. Her generosity, her friendship, the love she showed everyone who crossed her path, her acceptance of life and all of its treasures--and horrors--all of it shaped her into the perfect person to compliment me. I fell in love with nary a word spoken. But, as I learned many years ago, all good things come with a price. I had to take her if I wanted her. If I wanted her for myself, I had to bite her. I knew of no other way. Her gorgeous dark hair, her piercing eyes, her ample and shapely body, the fire in her aura, all of what made her I wanted. But images of heartbreak clouded my mind; heartbreak for both me and her, and neither one of us deserved that. I fought it off as long as I dared to, but in the end Father Darien's influence poisoned my own longing for her that culminated in our meeting in that disgusting bathroom. Even as these thoughts ran through my mind, her voice was like a satin ribbon through my ears. "You would never hurt me," I hear her say, her hand running the length of my ebony hair. "I could hurt them," I said without thinking--as usual, "And that would destroy us both." Why must I always speak the truth as if it were vinegar? Because just like life, the truth is pain. "You love all of us, no you wouldn't." "When they smell like blood, death, and fear I could. I have to fight every instinct to stay in control of myself, especially when there's an intruder in our house." "Sven took care of him," Charlene said with a surprisingly cheery lilt in her voice. The sound of it reassured me that all was well. "He slit the guy's throat and damn-near cut his head off after beating the living hell out of him." My brain sobered at the news, as disgusting of an image that it made. "I know. I heard him laughing." I tried to adjust so that I could hear her heart beating. "I'm glad the three of them defended the house and killed him. Now perhaps the others won't be so quick to poach." Charlene adjusted herself and pulled me into her lap. She used to joke that my butt was too bony, but tonight must be the exception. She threw the blanket over my naked form and said, "It's been a long night for everyone, Nadia. Why don't you try to get some sleep? We'll clean up the mess upstairs." The thought of being alone nearly threw me into a panic. I shook my head and tightened my grip on her body. "No," I said quickly. Thinking quickly for a good excuse I continued. "They made the mess, they can clean it up." I'm glad that sounded good enough. I took a deep breath to slow everything down. My heart was yearning to break free; I spoke the words before I had time to talk myself out of the idea. "I have something I need to tell you." Before she could do anything, I wrapped my arms around her neck to emphasize how important this was to me. "It's time I told someone, who better than my Watcher?" I felt her head nod against my own. "Mind if I change out of this dress first?" she asked. I put on a shy smile and slid off of her lap. I loved the way she looked in this gown. I designed it myself for one specific purpose and that purpose was ruined along with the night. As I unlaced the bodice and watched her change, I thought back through the events of this evening and came up empty. Everything was planned perfectly. The meal, the entertainment, my own surprise for her, everything was right, but it was all for nought. I finished playing my song, we get back to the table, and then she tells me we need to go home? I don't get it. Her presence on the bed brought me back to reality. My smile brightened a bit at the sight before me. She had on only her favorite nightie and was crawling towards me. She sat against the headboard with a pillow in support and asked, "Where do you want to start?" She is so beautiful. I know not why she is so good to me, and I'm afraid to ask. And for no other reason than I fear the answer. Or, to put a finer point on it, how I would react to her answer. Rather than say something stupid, I just snuggled into her open arms like the scared child I felt. "It's always best to begin at the beginning." ********** I was born on the stoke of midnight February twenty-ninth, nineteen hundred. I was among the lucky ones, most babies born in the harsh winters of the Ukraine didn't survive, that year in particular. Regional climate change swung in from the far north and found a resting place near the Black Sea. In that area of the world, the people are acclimated to the cold, but were ill-prepared for what was to come. Snow storms hammered the entire country for nearly a month before anyone saw the sun again. It was hard on everyone, my family included as we were a family of six. And now there was yet another mouth to feed. We lived in our family home on the outskirts of Odessa. My father was a union worker in one of the many shipyards. He had worked there most of his life, ever since he was old enough to tie a knot. He made decent wages, enough to support his family, but he was a man of his time. I rarely saw him, and when I did he was usually drunk or hungover. I don't recall him ever hitting his wife, or any of us, in a fit of drunken rage, but he wasn't the most pleasant man to be around either. When he finally made it home at night, he would sit at the table and expect his dinner to be brought to him. Nothing out of the ordinary back then, or in that country; women were servants to their husbands. The two of them had a good arrangement: He made the money, she took care of the house and children. She was a good wife and mother, she did the best she could raising me and my brothers and sister. To this day I believe we were one of the luckier families--my father was a hard working man with all of his limbs still attached, something almost unheard of after thirty years in such a dangerous job. My father wasn't an unpleasant man, only when he was drunk or was wanting to relax after working for twelve, or fourteen, hours. My most vivid memory of him, other than my 'incident', was the summer of 1905, and not for a good reason. My father burst through the front door in the best mood I've ever seen him. His smile went from ear to ear, he actually went straight to my mother and kissed her. "They've done it!" he said as he lifted her into the air. "What?" she squealed in delight. "Who did what?" He set her down and kissed her again. "We just got the communique that the mutiny aboard the Potemkin was successful. We take to the streets tonight!" My mother immediately sobered. "Dmitry, I don't want you going out there tonight." "Viktoria, this is the support we need," he reasoned. "The Iskra can only print so many articles about the 'impending uprising' before it happens. I for one am damn sure fed up with being treated like a third class citizen. Hell, even the Jews are treated better than we are." "I read the papers too, Dimitri." She went over to the kitchen table and sat down. "I've also seen the Imperial troops marching through the streets. Do you honestly believe the Tsar will keep his word about his so-called diplomatic peace? The man is a monster." She sobbed a little, refusing to look at him. "This will be Bloody Sunday all over again. Mark my words." "Viktoria, I hate the Tsar as much as everyone else in this country," he said, walking over to her. I stopped playing and listened in on their conversation from my bedroom doorway. "Change is not possible without action." "Then let someone else's husband take action so mine might live." I felt my heart break at the sorrow in her voice. I could tell she was trying not to cry in front of him. The tension rose as my father knelt down. "How can you not support me in this after everything I've done?" I crept closer to the room, trying not to alert them to my presence. There was a period of silence before my father harshly uttered, "If you will not support me then so be it. I leave before dusk, and I won't be going alone." "You are not taking my son to die in the streets with you." I've never before heard my mother speak so brazenly before. "No. I'm taking MY son to the streets to show him how to stand up for his freedoms. This cause belongs to the people, as do our basic rights to live and be free. It is everyone's to bear, and if those fucking lap dogs oppose it then there will be retributions." I could hear my mother's shaky breathes. "Those retributions will befall not just Odessa, but the entire country. The Tsar knows no compassion or mercy, he will strike down those who oppose him and their families." "Now you understand why I go tonight. We have nothing to lose." "We have everything to lose!" I jumped back at the boom in her voice. "This revolution will kill not only you and our son, but our daughters, your wife, and all of our neighbors. They will raze this house to the ground, loot it for the few possessions we have without a second thought." I could feel my father getting ready to strike his wife. He let out a frustrated scream and pounded the table instead. "It's too late to think of that. What's done is done. This uprising is already in motion." My mother began pacing, holding back the tears I could smell in her eyes. Yes, I could smell the tears in her eyes--the salty bitterness, the physical manifestation of sorrow and woe. It's odor clung in my nose like that of Sunday Supper. Without another word, my father left the house. He looked down at me as he passed, the anger coating him like a blanket on a cold night. He was rank with it. It burned in my nose just as my mother's tears had done a moment before. My brain burned with the urge to scream at him about this maddening sensation, but I couldn't speak. My mouth opened but no words came out. When the door slammed shut my brain sobered. My mother's sobbing brought me closer to the kitchen. "Mommy?" I said weakly. "Why are you crying?" She immediately wiped her tears away and put on her normal strong face. "Mommy's not crying, sweetheart." "Why is daddy upset?" She stood up and went over to the stove. "Because he's hungry. We should make him and your brother a special dinner for when they get home." She rummaged through the cabinets, her hands shaking worse than her lip. I could hear her heart beating. "Where are they going?" I asked, daring a step closer. "Daddy's home from work already." "Oh, they're just going out for a walk. They'll be back soon so we better get to work." My mother and I started our preparations for dinner. I could have sworn that her smell changed once my father slammed the door. "Should we get Katia and Anechka to help us?" I asked after a few seconds. "Yes, sweetheart. That would be nice." I could hear her voice tremble. "I think they are--" "They're at Alena and Duscha's house," I interrupted. She just smiled. "Go ahead and fetch them, Nadia. Just be back in time." I nodded and bounced out of the kitchen. It wasn't too often that the four of us got to cook for the two men of the house. In fact, I never got to do much of anything since I was the youngest. In spite of witnessing my parents fight, I found a reason to smile. I practically ran out the door. It was a nice day, unseasonably cool but not enough for the need of a jacket. I walked down the street to my sisters' best friends' house, waving at our always-happy neighbor Nicholai. I'd never seen him without a smile on his face, even his small dog seemed to smile whenever I was near. When I rounded the corner to get to the door of my destination, a commotion in the alley across the street caught my attention. "I fucking hate Jews!" a man shouted, shoving a man into the wall. Another man punched him in his gut. Then a third man punched him in the face. "Stupid fucking Jews! You all deserve to die!" The 'Jew' fell to the ground. The three men around him began kicking him over and over again shouting rude obscenities about their hatred for "their kind". I was mesmerized; I couldn't focus on anything else. It was horrific. It was brutal. But the weird odor in the air kept my gaze rapt. "Just die already!" the second man shouted. He started bashing his head against the pavement. Blood pooled beneath his skull, splattering in all directions with each new impact. His hands were wrapped around his throat. The poor man stopped struggling. Even from my vantage point I could see his eyes bulge out, then recede and fade. The third man pulled his friend off of the corpse, then proceeded to spit on him. For some reason all three of them were upset. Angry, as if they were mad at the man for dying. All of their faces were much like my father's from not ten minutes ago. But that's not why I kept staring. I barely noticed the first man spotted me. I barely noticed him wrangling both of his friends out of the alley and out of my life. I couldn't stop staring at the dead man they called "Jew". I wasn't scared or horrified. I was curious. I wanted to go over to him and see if he wanted to play. My arm reached out for him... "Nadia!" I heard my sister's voice as she pulled me into her. The next thing I knew I was face deep in her stomach with her arms wrapped tightly around my neck. "My Lord, are you okay?" I only nodded. My voice abandoned me. So many images and sensations were running through my brain that I forgot how to speak. It felt as if I could feel my brain categorizing every single detail, every single emotion of what just happened. "You should never have seen that," Anechka said as she ushered me and Katia away from the scene. "Let's go home." Her voice was aghast of the visage, but betrayed her true feelings of the matter. Katia picked up on that as well. We both noticed the sneer in her eye even after the alley was out of sight. She wanted him dead, as well? My eldest sister picked me up and carried me home. Though it was nice, I doubt it was for my own good. I wasn't as scared as she was, in fact I felt no fear at all. The short trip home was spent in silence, but I could see the silent communication going on between my sisters. Katia tried to be the older, dominant one, but Anechka, who was usually so mild-mannered, seemed determined to show the world her opinion on the matter. "Just in time," our mother said when we walked through the door. Her mood changed immediately when she saw us. "What's the matter?" "A man was killed down the street," Katia said immediately. She shut the door and set me down. "Nadia witnessed a man get beat to death--" "She witnessed a filthy Jew get beat to death, not a man," Anechka interrupted. "Anechka!" mother shouted. She came over and picked me up much like Katia had done, but in a more loving manner. "It's true!" she fired back. "He was probably caught swindling from the man. He got what he deserved." "I will not tolerate that kind of talk in my house!" Could they not hear my groans and cries? "How can you say that about another human being?" Katia nearly screamed. "What kind of monster are you?" Defiantly, Anechka screamed back, "Is it so bad to hate those who brought us so much miser and despair? Those filthy fuckers screwed all of with their greed... just look at the situation we're in now!" My head was ready to explode. If I had been standing I would have fallen over, but even in my mother's arms I felt all of my limbs go limp. My heart sped up, my breathe came and went in an irregular rhythm. Dizziness and nausea replaced the happiness I felt when I left the house; my blood left my face. The last things I remembered were Katia smacking her younger sister, then a loud boom of fireworks followed a a quick succession of gunfire. ********** I don't recall all of the details after I passed out. Screaming whistles, explosions, bursts of gunfire; phantasmic spectrums of colors splashed and streamed in time with each sound in a random mosaic so my brain matched the chaos outside. Women and children screamed in horror and terror, the air exploded, then the screams got louder. Then would cease for a moment only to begin anew. My eyes fluttered open moments later it seemed. The sun was setting which made the explosions look brighter. I was lying on the bed I shared with my sisters but it wasn't in it's normal location -- apparently my father moved it away from the window. I was under the blanket with my head in Katia's lap. My mother was huddled in the other corner with Anechka wrapped in her arms. I heard footsteps coming from the other room, and after a burst of gunfire, my heart skipped a beat at what that might mean. "Everyone stay down! Keep away from the window!" my father shouted. My brother came into the bedroom a minute later. His silhouette showed that he was armed with his favorite rifle, with Father's pistol on his hip, and another one tucked into pants. Even in the dim light I could see blood on his shirt and face. The odor hit me like a ton of bricks. He was rank with gunpowder, sweat, blood, hatred, desperation, anger and fear. Somehow I knew it wasn't his, and that meant that he's already killed someone. He came fully into the room and crouched by the window. He quickly loaded his rifle then took a deep breath. His intent glare made him look as though he was expecting someone bad to come by at any moment. "What's happening out there?" our mother asked with a false calm. "The uprising is failing," her son answered bluntly. "The Potemkin was taken, but after they executed the officers the gates of Hell opened. The other ships opened fire on the protesters in the city to show them they will not negotiate. Two frigates landed Imperial troops and they opened fire on us. Ghatzi and Boris were killed almost immediately." Our mother gasped. "And what of their fami--" "Dead," he said quickly. "Me, dad, and a handful of others are the only survivors from our street. We both had to kill those fucking bastards with their own bayonets to making it out." I heard her sob. "They issued a bayonet charge into the city?" He shrugged. "I guess they were wanting to save bullets." "How many have you killed?" Even I could tell she didn't want him to answer that. "I stopped counting after the first minute." His gaze never left the window. "Twenty, maybe thirty. I neither know or care." Mother gulped. "Did anyone see your faces?" "No one who's still alive. The Czar doesn't take prisoners, and neither do his officers." Everyone was quiet after that. I was too young at the time to fully appreciate what he meant by that last bit, but it was the one bit that stuck with me the rest of my life. 'The Czar doesn't take prisoners'. "Mommy, what's a bayonet?" I asked I got everyone's attention. Apparently they thought I was still asleep. "It's a knife that soldiers put on their rifles." "How did you get one?" I asked my brother. "I killed a soldier and stole it." He was still watching the streets, which were getting quiet. The explosions were becoming less and less, people stopped screaming. "Maybe they're pulling back for the night," mother uttered with a hopeful lilt. My brother chuckled. "Don't count on it. More likely they're re-arming and trying not to hit their own troops." He finally averted his eyes to look us over. "This is going to be a long night." ******************** **~**~ CHARLIE'S PERSPECTIVE ~**~** I didn't know what to say to her. I listened to every single word, but the gait of her face said more than the words from her mouth. She was horrified. Beyond horrified, actually. I thought that she would feel better after telling someone something like that, but I was gravely mistaken. "That was the day you first saw someone murdered?" I asked dumbly. Nadia nodded. "I can still smell his blood. It was different, somehow. Richer with more emotions than I've ever experienced." Nadia nudged me from her lap. She went over to her closet and began her usual rummaging. "The times were tough in my country for the Jews. It seemed everything bad that happened was blamed on them. He was rife with pent-up fear, anger, hatred, forgiveness, sorrow, sympathy--" her voice trailed off. "You could tell all of that by scent?" "Yes. I'm sure if you lived in those times you'd better understand. Odessa was not a place for the faint-of-heart, especially back then." "No shit," I mumbled. I heard her laugh a little, probably more in reminiscence than humor. "What are you looking for?" I asked after another minute. There was a pause. I leaned over so I could better see my vampire, but she wasn't in the closet. "Nadia?" "Hallway!" she shouted, making me jump. I put my hand over my heart. "Damn that's creepy!" "I need to get out of here," Nadia intoned, coming back into the room. I changed my vision over and saw standing in the doorway in all of her naked glory. Her long ebony tresses, muddled just enough to look even hotter; her smooth flawless skin standing in stark contrast to the dark wall; her perky breasts that I absolutely adored; those long, slender, athletic legs... "Like what you see?" "Huh?" She smiled and entered the room. Got caught staring again. I gotta be more discreet in ogling my girlfriend. "Did you pick me out anything?" I asked to distract from the redness of my face. "Of course." Nadia placed an outfit at my feet. I had to move out from underneath the blanket to get it, but I think she just wanted a good view of me as well. I felt her eyes on me, roaming all over my not-as-hot body. I had a couple extra pounds on my hips, but who doesn't? My legs weren't as muscular or smooth, my hair wasn't as perfect, my breasts weren't so pert and perky... "Quit doing that!" I heard her voice in my head. "Doing what?" I asked, retrieving the clothes. "Thinking badly about yourself. You're perfect in my eyes." I smiled in spite of myself. "Thank you Nadia, but let's be honest, you are much better looking than me." She crawled up on the bed, staring me square in the eye. "No Charlene. I love every inch of your body." Her fingers danced oh so lightly on my tingling skin. I let the pheromones sink into me. Her sharp but delicate nails scratched up my arms. I felt my pussy walls tighten, moistening my outer folds for what was to come. I shut my eyes and cooed. I felt her breath on the nape of my neck, a mere inch above my scars. My breath came in small pants, her nails dug a little deeper into my skin. She moved them down my back, over the curve of my ass. I could smell her sex. I love it when she turns me on like this, playing on my vulnerability that makes me utterly, helplessly, hers to control. She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled my face up to hers. "Please, Nadia," I breathed. "Kiss me." Her lips grazed against mine. "All good things to those who wait," she said before licking my lips. Not today. I was not going to be denied. I grabbed the sides of her head and pulled her to me. The move shocked her--her eyes doubled in size. My lips pressed against hers with the wonton passion of the lover I've become. My nipples were rock hard, my pussy was so wet, she was going to fuck me until I told her to stop. Nadia pulled me towards her, and I hit the mattress. "Nuh-uh-uh, Charlene," she said from across the room. "Later." "Ah! You bitch." I needed to get off. The pheromones alone had me on the edge. I looked up to her pretty brown eyes and glared. "You turn me on that much then leave?" My vampire nodded, then left the room altogether. "Not cool, Nadia!" Then there was silence again. I hate it when she does this kind of crap. I could just rub one out, but that takes away the fun of having the sexiest women on the planet do it for me. I was almost in pain from the frustration. Hell I could smell myself. My eyes wandered around the room, desperately trying to find something distracting. They settled on the clothing Nadia laid out for me. I've always loved her taste, and it doesn't hurt that she has them custom made for me. The purple corseted long-sleeve Tee-looking top was remarkably well done, with the black piping and ribbing. The cups fit around my breasts almost too perfectly. The panties--silk and satin lace as always--slid up my legs and accentuated my curves beautifully. Even the denim of the jeans felt like there was something more. I found the boots that I wore when I burned my vampire half-brother to death. They still smelled like smoke and death. At least I got the shit-stains out of the leather. "I see you're dressed," Nadia said coming back into the room clad in only her favorite black bra and panty set. Not that I was complaining. Much. Those legs should be wrapped around my head right now. "Where are we going? It's four in the morning." "Someplace where we can be alone and out of this house." Her steps became harder when she marched to the bed. "The boys upstairs are still cleaning up that mess and they're not too happy about it. I can't deal with all of this right now." She started putting her own clothes on. Her motions lacked the normal grace and smoothness, but were rushed and harsh making me wonder what else was going on in that pretty head of hers. "Someplace?" I asked. "Have a particular place in mind?" She shrugged. "Not really. I was thinking a hotel room. It's something we haven't done before." True. We haven't shared a hotel room in the few months we've been together. "A fancy place, no doubt?" I slowly approached her. It's weird when she acts this way--she normally has much more control over herself. She actually looked like a frazzled... human. She looked me dead in the eye and smiled. "Only the best for you." I smiled back. "Should I pack a bag?" ******************** Thanks for reading! I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but with all of the bullshit that life puts us through, I'm surprised I got this out in the time I did. Please feel free to send me your comment, concerns, questions, and critiques.