My Little Ventrue Pt. 10 Ch. 16

The Ripper let out a slow, deep rumble.

"No, I guess you're not."

Holy shit, that almost sounded contemplative.

"I can't even begin to imagine what sort of person Susanna was, to want something like you inside her," Jack said.

"A tortured soul."

"Aren't we all?"

The Ripper laughed. "You don't know torture. You think what Jeremiah and Angela did to you was bad? Or all the times the Uratha have hurt you? Or fire? You don't know pain, stupid kid, until you've been betrayed by the people you love most. And when that happens, every bit of empathy you have is burned away. All that's left is resentment, for everything and everyone." Another chuckle. "A perfect fit for the Strix, who have nothing left but hate and resentment for life, and for the Kindred who tried to rejoin it."

Jack groaned, and sat down beside the cellar door. "I thought you didn't know anything about them?"

"I don't. Just... faint traces of hate. Susanna thrived on it, and quickly found life was more enjoyable as a monster. No guilt, no shame, no empathy, just pure indulgence in power in all its manifestations. Murder and rape and everything between."

"And that's what you wanted of me? I'm not Susanna."

"No," the Ripper said, voice again soft, and contemplative, "I suppose you're not."

"I still have empathy."

"I suppose you do."

"And I'm never letting go of it," Jack said. "I don't care what you do. I don't care what happens to me. I don't care what happened to Susanna. I'm never going to become a heartless monster, Ripper. I'll die before I do. I'll kill myself before I do."

Another rumble from the cellar.

"I thought, with time, I could take over your body. I... never thought you'd actually be so stupid as to kill yourself than just let me have my way." Some of the curse's animal eyes looked at him from under the cellar door. "I'm not so stupid to realize I can't suppress you forever. If you're willing to kill yourself to stop me, that's... that's will I can't break, not completely."

Jack smiled. "That a compliment?"

The Ripper laughed, a twisted and disturbing sound. "I am bound to a host so utterly pathetic, he can't let go of his humanity. Viktor is a thousand times the vampire you were."

"Yeah, well, he also went borderline insane and made stupid decisions that got him killed. We all thought it was because of his last torpor fucking with his mind, but I'm betting the curse in him was getting closer to breaking free, and it was turning him into a psycho."

"Maybe," the Ripper said. "But I cannot stop until I have it, Jack. I can't stop until I get to experience that... that rush. You'd understand if you just gave in. The feel of power, utter power so complete and whole, you realize everyone around you is nothing more than a sack of meat to murder, fuck, feast on, and toss aside. Total freedom."

Jack did not like the order he described those actions.

"I thought you were some sort of amplification of my Id, but I guess not. More like, you're..."

"A manifestation of Strix desires."

"Whatever that means."

"Whatever that means," the Ripper said, mirroring his tone. Some of the beaks and snouts inside the shadows nodded. "It doesn't matter. All I know is, I can't stop. I won't stop. I tried to work with you at first, Jack, to get you to ride with me, like Susanna did with her curse. But you refuse."

"Yeap," Jack said. "Sorry."

"There is no reconciling this disagreement between us."

"Probably not. Sounds like it's pretty existential for you to abandon all humanity and become a murdering monster."

"Sounds like you're a vampire that refuses to embrace what a vampire could be. What I... what the curse, wants my host to be."

Jack coughed on a laugh as he looked down between his legs. "We're never going to get along. This dance is going to keep going until we're dead." It was more than true. It was inevitable. If they somehow managed to stop Jacob and Black Blood -- not happening -- then he was going to kill himself, unless someone pulled a miracle cure out of their ass. He wasn't going to let anyone else die because of the curse.

The Ripper groaned annoyance. They could hear each other's thoughts, of course.

"I have no intention of bowing down," the Ripper said, "not to you, and especially not to some death god relic no one cares about anymore."

Jack laughed again. He couldn't help it. Everything just gets kind of funny when you're staring down the barrel of an apocalypse.

"So I gathered," Jack said. "We're at an impasse. The only option left is mutually assured destruction, I guess."

"You're the one that doesn't want to die. You're the one afraid of death."

Jack blinked, and looked at the creature trapped in the basement.

"You're not?"

"It doesn't matter. We are bound in this ritual, and because you were stupid enough to trust Elaine, the ritual is strong enough to bind me."

"Well, we got a bit before Black Blood rips this cabin open and makes me open the cellar. So tell me, Mister Big Bad Curse, you're not afraid of death?"

"I'm not afraid of death."

"Uh huh," Jack said, making sure the sarcasm was absolutely dripping. "You were panicking when I had a sword against our throat."

"It's not the same. I'm afraid of spending a thousand years forced to be bound to a useless piss ant like you. And I'm afraid of my existence ending, to a useless piss ant like you."

Jack raised a brow. "That, specifically?"

"This is just another way that you, a weak vampire that will never amount to what Susanna was, is an unworthy vessel. Being afraid of death? Pathetic. The only death worth fearing is one in a bed, weak and old and frail, with no story told, no mark left, nothing but nothing."

"We can't grow old."

"Dying to passivity is the same. Dying because a worm like you refuses to embrace the power and desires of a true monster, it sickens me, and terrifies me. I can't stomach it."

"I... I mean, I guess I'm kind of impressed. I expected you'd be a sniveling snake who'd do anything they could to avoid dying." Jack laughed again and gestured to the monster. "The fuck are you? You're like, a viking or spartan or something, except evil as hell."

The Ripper snorted. "I would be the greatest force of destruction this world had ever known. And I would die happy, if I burned this whole world to the ground, and the flames took me with it."

"Surprised you're not on board with Black Blood then."

Another snort. "The old god wants the opposite. He wants everything together, with everyone holding hands and singing Kumbaya for all eternity."

"I uh, don't think that's exactly what he's going for."

"Close enough."

Again, Jack laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"This is the first time we've ever talked like this."

"Yeah well, I hate you," the Ripper said. "Talking with you is pointless."

"And I hate you. There's no way we can keep existing together."

"Agreed."

"Then... we have nothing to lose." After a few seconds to think about it, a few seconds more to let out a long, annoyed groan, Jack got up, and squatted beside the cellar door again. "I really hate you, Ripper. People who didn't deserve to die, are dead, because of you. But at the same time, I'm thankful you helped when you did. I gotta admit, having the power to get revenge for Julias was great. Even beating Avery up when she deserved it, that was great. Even beating up Garry and Michael, that was great. So, as much as you've been a huge thorn in my side, and have caused a lot of people a lot of pain, you've also helped a lot."

He expected the Ripper to laugh at him, but instead, he got an acknowledging grunt.

"You're weak, pussy bitch, Jack, and it infuriates me so much because you're strong, too. Killing Viktor and Tony? Stopping Damien and killing Lucas? Cutting off your hands to escape Angela? You did that yourself, you stupid fucking little shit. You have will. If you'd just let me in, we could have fucked this world into submission."

Jack laughed again and rubbed his head. "Yeah, I guess we could have. Ah well."

The Ripper eyed him with a half dozen eyes. "Why does it sound like you're about to suggest a plan?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about that wink Elaine gave me. She was trying to tell me something."

"If it was Viktor or Tony, they'd have just winked at you to make you angry. She's won. She and Jacob and--"

Jack slammed his hand down against the cellar door. "We're not having this conversation. I'm not going to sit here and try to convince you not everyone is the sick monster you are. It doesn't matter. We either submit, and Black Blood turns you into his bitch toy before Jacob merges all the realms into soup. Or... we do the only thing we can do. Resist. Fight."

The Ripper chuckled, louder this time, enough the vibration pulsed through the floor. "You say that like I wouldn't have done that in the first place."

"Yeah but you'd fight like a mad dog, and I need something better. Smarter. Something's going to happen, or has already happened, or--fuck me I don't know. I'm saying, keep your eyes and ears open as Black Blood starts to, uh, remove you. Don't waste your energy until you see a good opportunity to strike."

"You really trust Elaine? She's committed diablerie. Amaranth. On her own childe. She's more a monster than you rea--"

"And she's had hundreds of years of guilt ripping her up over it. In fact, I'm pretty sure she's half willing to help Jacob and Black Blood, just to alleviate her guilt."

"Then--"

"But she's more willing to... to help me. She wants to help me, more than she wants to undo whatever horrible shit she's done in the past."

"And you believe this, why?"

"Because I've talked with her, hung out with her, saw into her eyes. You might not think an elder can have humanity, but I know different. Antoinette wouldn't be close friends with her, otherwise. And you damn well know Antoinette is smart. You can hate her all you want, but you know it's true."

The Ripper let out a rumbling sigh that sounded a little too close to Jack's.

"So the plan is... to let Black Blood do what he wants, but look for an opportunity to fight back?"

"I guess. Got a better one?"

"No, I don't." Another grumble.

"Like I said, you got two choices. Either--"

"Submit or fight. If those are my choices, then it is no choice at all. At least if we stop Black Blood's ritual, you and I can have one last fight for control. And... And I suppose, that is a fight worth having."

"That's probably the best compliment you're capable of giving, isn't it?"

"Fuck you. Release me."

Grinning, Jack reached out, and the key appeared in his hand. The joys of metaphors. He slipped the key in the lock, and let the curse out.

The memory disappeared. The old cabin in the woods, the woods, it all vanished into mist that faded away, until all that was left was Jack and the Ripper, standing before Black Blood, still inside Jack's mind. Back in the murky, shallow black water, and back underneath the rolling dark clouds, endless and in all directions.

Now or never.

"You took your time," Black Blood said. "Be happy I am in a good mood."

Jack smirked up at the fucker. "Figured you'd be upset. Antoinette and Daniel almost ruined everything for you."

"They used the flesh witch to bypass my barrier. Impressive. But I could have summoned Mary's ghost to aid me sooner, if necessary."

"Oh?" Jack asked. He didn't believe it. Black Blood looked drained as fuck after opening the tear. Using Mary when he did had been an act of desperation, and now the old god was trying to make it seem like it was casual and easy. Hopefully.

"Indeed. And the other remnants I have summoned, I could have bound and sent them to fight in my stead. I have been prepared to do so, in case Elaine decided to attack Jacob."

"Wait, what?"

"Only a fool trusts another blindly. But, Elaine has proven committed. This ritual is successful, and I will rip this Strix curse from your mind and bind it. Another tool in my repertoire."

Jack ground his teeth as he glared. Elaine, please, don't be the villain the Ripper thinks you are.

"Now," Black Blood said, turning his skull to face the curse, "you will bow and submit."

The curse and the Beast it possessed let out a heavy snarl. "Fuck you."

Black Blood laughed, harsh accent vanishing under the sound of merriment. But then he ruined it. He snapped out his hand and straightened out his torso, all with enough speed both Jack and the Ripper were struck silent. The god of corpses may have been a limited, weakened thing in the real world, but in Jack's head, he was very much a god.

Black Blood's outstretched hand hovered over the curse. The Ripper, or the curse, or the Beast, or however their strange entanglement worked, was a huge creature, a giant ball of smoke and tendrils, claws and talons, feathers and fur, beaks and snouts, and lots of animal eyes. A perfect metaphor for the darkness in all Kindred, that prided itself on its ability to adapt to its environment. From living in a forest and hunting villagers at night, to living in the middle of a populated city and becoming a political figurehead, vampires were the kings and queens of living as wolves among sheep.

Jack stared on, unable to do anything, not even able to reach out and engage Black Blood in a battle of wills. Something was blocking him. The ritual? Or maybe the fact Black Blood was a literal god -- whatever the hell that meant -- and not an individual with a human mind? All Jack could do was watch, as black ooze dripped from his palm down onto the Ripper. The strange liquid twisted and turned, like living snakes, all too similar to how the Ripper protected Jack's body with Kindred blood when fighting. Except now, the Ripper was helpless to do anything but snarl and roar as the black snakes coiled around him.

Please, Elaine.

The snakes tightened around the giant cloud of black mist, and the Ripper choked on a snarl as they constricted.

"Striges," Black Blood said, eyes focused on the Ripper as more and more black snakes dripped out of his palm, "are nothing more than shadows of history. Vermin, that slipped through the cracks of the realms, forever doomed to loathe the vampire for abandoning them and their cause. You are even more forgotten than I, and useless in all regards. We have no use for the Strix in the new world. You would be nothing more than thorns in the sides of those of us who try and embrace unity."

"Fuck... you..." More snarls and hisses, but with each second, the giant, curse-tainted Beast became more and more bound in the black coils.

Black Blood chuckled again, and reached out his other hand, palm facing down. This one emitted a black glow, and buried the Ripper in black light; how black light worked, Jack didn't know, but his brain understood the metaphor just fine.

"You have power, though. Great power. But you are a curse of the Beast, and bound to it. You will be nothing but a slave once bound to something less autonomous. A necklace, perhaps? Or a knife?"

The Ripper pulsed inside the black coils. "Fuck. You."

"Whatever Jacob and I choose, you will be discarded, once the abyss chasm has been crossed, and the final realms merged." Nodding, Black Blood stood up straighter, legs still hidden inside his whirlpool, but more of his torso came out so he could loom higher and higher over the curse. His skull reached the swirling black clouds above, and he chuckled as the endless black ocean around them rippled. "Now, release your hold on the boy's Beast."

The Ripper tried to make a sound, probably more curses, but nothing came out, not even a hiss or snarl.

"I said, release the boy!"

At first it'd looked like Black Blood was binding the curse, the same as he had Mary's ghost. But now, his other hand pulled something out of the Beast, up into the aura of his downward palm. Black smoke? Jack stared on, unable to look away as he felt the drain, straight down into his guts. Something was coming out of him. His eyes told him something was coming out of his Beast, but it felt like something was coming out of his insides, like someone was pulling a string out of his intestines. A memory flashed of a TV show he'd seen once, where surgeons removed a giant tapeworm out of someone's guts. It'd looked super satisfying, but probably also super painful if not for the drugs the patient was on.

He didn't have drugs. There was pain, enough to make him stumble back a bit and clutch his guts and heart. In the past, he'd have ranked the pain pretty high, but after the past few years, it wasn't all that bad. It was the weird sensation that had him reeling, the draining, as if someone had put a convenient hole in his side that let all the vitae pour out of him.

"Do not worry, Jack," Black Blood said. "You will live. You have taken many wounds, and you are not capable of sustaining your vigor with such injuries on your own."

"So I'm noticing." He tried to stay standing, but it wasn't long before he fell on his ass. Energy, gone, like he'd just gotten hit by a super flu. Not a concern for a vampire, and he was damn happy for that, but all those memories of lying on his mom and dad's couch, puking into a bucket while watching Saturday morning cartoons came rushing back. He felt like shit.

It took time. People on the outside would probably only see a few minutes go by, but for Jack and everyone else in his skull, it was a lot longer. Black Blood weaved his fingers like a puppeteer, and every second more black smoke came out of the creature Jack knew as his Beast. With each passing moment, the Beast grew smaller, and smaller. It usually hovered around as a giant ball, almost touching the ground and reaching four or five times Jack's height. Now it kept shrinking down and down, until it was half of what it was. Less.

The black smoke beneath Black Blood's other palm, on the other hand, only grew larger. As Black Blood drew it out, his coil-weaving changed targets, and instead wrapped chains around the growing black smoke, chains similar to the ones he'd wrapped Mary in. He'd captured his target.

Jack's Beast, beneath Black Blood's left palm, was now a measly eight feet tall. The new creature, under Black Blood's right palm, was gigantic, as big as Jack's Beast used to be. An owl, made of shadow and smoke, and two glowing yellow eyes.

It squawked as it tried to escape the chains, and the smoky body showed hints of feathers, straining against the strange, ghostly bindings. Jack stared at it, before flicking his eyes between it and the Beast. The Beast, his Beast, didn't have a voice anymore. And it didn't have power, at least not the power of an elder snorting a mountain of cocaine like it did when the curse possessed it.

The shadowy owl and his Beast did share a lot of similarities. Both were made of black smoke and had feathers, but the curse's form was specific, and gargantuan, an owl big enough to pick up a car. Strix, and Kindred, were connected somehow. Black Blood said connected by history, so maybe a common ancestor? Did paranormal creatures evolve? Maybe there'd been some cataclysmic event involving magic and Crúac and stuff?

Jack looked beside him at his Beast again. It was the first time he'd ever gotten to see it without the curse; not that Kindred normally ever got to actually see it. It didn't say anything, didn't insult or quip or bullshit him, didn't do anything but hover there beside him, a bundle of Kindred aspects and hungers, with none of the intelligence. It was the creature that Jack would become if he ever became a draugr, mindless, concerned only with its next meal.

The huge owl, chained up and bound, looked to Jack, and they met eyes. Whatever the curse was, however it work, how it managed to get a personality and intelligence, how it managed to become the Ripper, Jack doubted he'd ever figure out. He doubted the Ripper really understood, either. But as they met eyes, it was obvious the shadowy owl still had that intelligence and personality. And, fucked up as it was, Jack knew that intelligence and personality was partly his own.