by GR Griffin
"So he's done it." Brahms grumbled. "Odin has finally taken the throne."
Hel looked even more distressed, glumly nodding her head. "He couldn't put it off forever. There was things that needed to be done. And you..." She gasped, and covered her mouth before she could finish her sentence.
"And I am dying." Brahms finished for her. Hel did not try to protest, though silent tears trailed down her cheeks. It made him wonder how much longer he had to live, Brahms sighing as he leaned against the pillows. "It is good that we have a King at long last." Brahms told her. "We need a strong ruler, one that can guide us during this time of crisis..."
"It should have been you on that throne with him!" Hel exclaimed, coming over to the bed.
"We can't focus on the shoulds. It appears Fate had a different plan for me, than to rule over Creation with my brother." Hel looked ready to fling herself on him, but he distracted her with a request. "Please....I'm thirsty..."
But it wasn't water he wanted, not when it would do nothing to appease the hunger inside him. He remembered his most recent dream, Brahms staring uneasy at Hel. He remembered how she had looked in his mind, all torn open to be a red ruin that only excited some unnatural beast inside him. And yet he couldn't look away from her, not even now while suffering from shame and disgust. He watched her every movement, Hel hurrying away to pour him a glass of water. He watched her like a cat might watch a mouse, unconsciously stalking his prey.
He hadn't realized then what he was doing, but Silmeria had. He was hungering for Hel, lusting after her life and vitality. When Hel returned to the bed, he used the pretext of the offered glass to touch her. To bump her hand, and cause the glass to overturn, the water spilling everywhere.
Hel immediately gasped. "Oh, I am so sorry!" She pulled out her handkerchief, though it was too small. It held no hope of soaking up enough of the spilled water.
"It was my fault." Brahms told her, eyes narrowing in on her as Hel bent over him. She began to attempt to mop up the water, her hands brushing over his wet shirt. It felt good to be touched by her, Brahms licking his lips. A deep blush bloomed in the Goddess cheeks, Hel realizing his shirt would have to come off. Brahms offered no resistance, allowing the closeness the pretext of removing his shirt offered them. Her hands seemed to shake, Hel fumbling as she concentrated on opening the buttons of his shirt.
Brahms' stared at her the entire time, his gaze unwavering. Sometimes he trailed downward, lingering on the cleavage her dress exposed to him. He saw the rise and fall of her chest with her breath, imagined the heart beating beneath her skin. His teeth began to HURT, Brahms lifting his gaze towards the necklace she wore. It matched the dress, all sapphires and diamonds that were coiled tight around her throat.
It was an extravagant piece, and it suited her. It showed off the smooth ivory of her skin, Hel pale from all the time she had spent in Brahms' bedroom. Brahms found himself staring at it, noting the long and elegant line of her neck. He had never noticed how beautiful a woman's neck could be, how erotic the sight of her hair pulled back from it would prove. But now, with Hel's long hair coiled up in an elaborate bun, he noticed. And he liked what he saw, Brahms licking his chapped lips.
"You're staring." Hel said, her blush deepening. Brahms barely registered her words, to enamored with her neck. Something was happening to him as he stared at it, some kind of change that set every nerve on fire within him. He tingled with awareness, with HUNGER. It made him want to put his lips to her throat, to kiss that pale, delicate flesh. To do more than just kiss it, to bite it.
Without even thinking, he had touched her. Hel had gasped, but did not fight him as Brahms pulled her against his chest. "Brahms?" She whispered, and he startled, realizing he had been leaning down towards her neck. He felt ashamed, a harsh thought in his mind reminding him this was no dream but reality. He couldn't, shouldn't do anything to Hel.
The Goddess sensed that a change had come over him, sensed the way he was inwardly pulling away from her. "Don't..." Hel whispered a plea, lifting her hands up to touch his face. "Don't pull back. Don't stop yourself from what you want to do..."
"You don't know what you ask for..." Brahms whispered hoarsely. He could see in her eyes she didn't, knew Hel would run screaming if she knew the dark urges that were screaming through him.
But she didn't know, she was woefully ignorant of how he wanted to HURT her. Eyes trusting and with an innocence that perversely pleased him, Hel began tugging his face down towards hers. He didn't even try to resist, sealing his mouth overs her, kissing her roughly and with more energy than he had previously shown in weeks. He wanted her so badly, wanted the life and vitality she possessed.
Brahms actually began growling as he kissed her. Hel began trembling in his arms, returning the kiss with inexpert eagerness. She sighed when he pulled back from her, eyes heavy lidded with pleasure. A pleasure that continued, Brahms kissing down onto the front of her throat. "Oh yes...yes....don't stop." Hel begged him. "Please!
"I..." Brahms' hand went to her throat, fingers carefully touching over the many stones of her necklace. "I won't." He suddenly promised her with a growl. It was a low, animalistic sound that should have frightened any sane thinking woman.
Silmeria didn't know what Hel thought of Brahms' growl. But she heard her gasp, the necklace being torn from her. The jewels scattered everywhere, and then Hel screamed. Brahms had bitten through the skin of her neck, sinking his newly elongated fangs into her pulse. Hel's body had gone rigid, she was struggling against him, crying out in pain. But Brahms wouldn't let her go, greedy, hungry grunts coming from him as he drank down her blood.
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Chapter 33 : Thirty Three
Hel's screams continued, though they had weakened in volume. It was fitting, for the Goddess was weakening beneath him, her hands feeble as she tried to push Brahms off of her. She had broken a fingernail in her attempts to scratch down his chest, the Goddess not even breaking open his skin for all her efforts. She tried slapping him, pounding her fists wildly against the sides of his head. It didn't even phase him, Brahms ignoring all her efforts, concentrating solely on the point of connection between them.
His mouth was fastened to her neck, his fangs sunk inside her as deep as they could reach. Her blood was a constant flow in his mouth, Brahms greedy, swallowing it down as fast as he could. It felt good to drink it, it's taste better than the sweetest of ambrosia. He didn't understand why this act wasn't disgusting him, why the blood wasn't repulsing him, nor did Brahms stop to examine the absurdity of what he was doing. He merely fed, existing only for this moment.
Hel was beneath him, her body stiff with fright and pain. His hands were gripping her shoulders, keeping her pinned to the bed as he fed. The warmth and vitality of her blood, it was filling him, chasing away aches and pains that had unfortunately become familiar to him. He no longer felt so weak, so helpless. He felt revitalized, and wanted MORE of that feeling.
Hel let out one last pitiful scream, and then her voice broke on a sob. Not even that could reach through to Brahms, the man drinking down the very life-force that animated the Goddess. His body felt flush with power, strength surging through him. And yet it wasn't enough, Brahms needing more of Hel's blood before he would be satisfied.
He had been hungry for so long, starving for weeks now. The foods he had been given had done nothing to appease him, could not compare to the blood he was drinking now. Silmeria had thought she had known true hunger, but what she had felt was nothing compared to the starvation Brahms had gone through. It scared her as much as amazed her, Silmeria wondering how in the world Brahms had avoided becoming a revenant.
He wouldn't become one now, not with Hel's life filling him. Sustaining him. He was left empowered, his emotions wild, Brahms in a feral state of bliss as he drank Hel closer to her death. Her struggles had all but stopped, Hel doing the feeble squirming beneath him. It roused the beast that had taken root inside him, Brahms finding he was EXCITED by her.
Excited in a way he had never felt, not towards Hel, not towards any of the Goddesses in Asgard.
With Hel's own blood fueling him, Brahms began to get aroused. His cock grew in size, struggling to break free of the confines of his pants. His newly awakened lusts just added to his frustrations, Brahms savage at Hel's neck. She wasn't moving that way on purpose, her body twitching as the Goddess began to go into convulsions. And yet he couldn't stop, Brahms growling as he began grinding against her, all in an effort to relieve himself of his erection.
It wasn't any care from Brahms that saved Hel from rape. He had simply been too consumed with her blood, too taken with feeding to think clear enough to free them of their clothing. The blood taking was violation enough, Hel dying a slow, painful death in his arms.
And then a voice was screaming at him, as aghast as he was angry. Something hit Brahms, some powerful form of energy that knocked him off the Goddess. His fangs had torn free of her skin, blood spurting out even as her divinity worked to heal the wounds. Hel was pale, white as a sheet and unconscious by this point. Brahms could remember hissing, teeth exposed in a feral snarl. He had wanted to finish with the Goddess, was incensed that someone had interrupted them.
Energy crashed into him again, this time striking Brahms in the chest. Such was the force of the energy, it sent him flying back. Brahms hit the wall, landing just inches from where the narrow sunbeam lay on the floor. He was not yet recovered to thinking straight, it would take a third attack of energy to jolt Brahms into awareness. And when that happened, his own skin paled, Brahms staring towards the bed.
His brother Odin was there, the silver haired God keeping one eye on Brahms as he reached out towards the fallen Goddess. Hel did not stir, just laying there. Most of her blood had gone into Brahms' mouth, but there was a few splatters that had stained her once beautiful dress. The sapphires and diamonds were scattered all around her, her necklace destroyed by Brahms' own hands.
Odin fingers felt for Hel's pulse, hovering over her newly healed neck. But her powers hadn't been enough to prevent a scar from occurring, Odin seeming loathe to touch that mark of imperfection. "What have you done?!" Odin bellowed, and lashed out with his arm. Another ball of ether flew towards Brahms, the man not attempting to get out of the way. Brahms actually welcomed the energy crashing into him, reveled in the pain now that he was conscious of the crimes he had committed against Hel.
He didn't cry out, didn't so much as whimper, enduring the energy rolling over him. He felt sick again, but it had nothing to do with the illness that had plagued him for weeks. No, this was revulsion, the disgust making Brahms retch. Blood fell from his lips, the vomit stained with it. And yet he still felt energized, his body renewed, feeling as though it had never been sick at all.
He was no longer hungry. That realization made his sides heave, Brahms trying to throw up a second time. But his body stubbornly held onto the blood, held onto the life he had stolen from Hel. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed Odin doing something to Hel, casting some sort of healing energy into her. Brahms prayed that it would be enough to save the Goddess, not wishing to have been the cause of her death.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself?!" Odin demanded, still forcing energy into Hel. She didn't so much as moan, just laying there deathly pale. Brahms let out an anguished moan, mentally willing Hel to get better. It couldn't end for her, not like this, not at his hands. He did not love her, but that didn't mean he wished for Hel to die!
"You've killed her!" Odin continued to rail. "How could you?! She trusted you, she LOVED you!"
"I know....I know!" Brahms moaned out, covering his face with his hands. They were shaking, HE was shaking. He remembered the trust in Hel's eyes, the love she had had for him. The innocent but eager way she had kissed him. She had gone into his arms willingly, but Brahms knew Hel would have never consented for what he had done to her following their kiss. He was a monster, who had preyed upon her, taken advantage of her love. "Hel..."
He had somehow gotten up off the floor, moving with unnatural speed towards the bed. Odin actually gasped, seeming frightened of his own brother. That fright was quickly replaced with anger, Odin throwing more ether at Brahms. It crashed into him, Brahms hitting another wall.
"Stay back! Don't come near her! Not after what you've done!" Odin shouted.
"But I..."
"You don't deserve the chance to do any farther harm to her!" Odin shouted. "You don't even deserve to look at her, to breathe the same air as her!"
"But I want to help!" Brahms made a protesting bellow. "Let me help her! Please...I'll...I'll do anything..."
"You've done enough!" Odin said stiffly. Brahms screamed, the sound an unnatural shriek born of his pain and frustration. Another wave of energy rolled into him, Odin reacting to that sound to hurl more balls of ether at Brahms. It served to do nothing but enrage him, Brahms suddenly lunging towards his brother. Sometimes the ether hit him, but more often than not, Brahms moved too fast for them to land.
Brahms wasn't thinking beyond getting to Hel. In doing something, anything to help save her. Odin was an obstacle to that purpose, one he would remove if that is what it took. His first fist caught Odin in the face, the God's head turning to the side with a sickening crunch. Another blow would graze off the God's temple, Brahms trying to hit his brother for a third time.
Odin's arm came up, his hand grabbing at Brahms wrist. Stopping the blow from landing. His
other hand went in low for Brahms' stomach, hand glowing with ether as he pummeled it against Brahms' body. The breath expelled forcefully from Brahms' mouth, Odin repeatedly striking him in that same spot again and again. But it didn't weaken him anywhere as much as it should have, Brahms hurting but still able to stand.
His one hand was held captive by Odin, but the other was free. Brahms lashed out with his arm, shocked when an arc of blood sprayed into the air. Odin screamed in pain, releasing Brahms to step away from him. Brahms stared stupidly, Odin's hands over his face, feeling for the damage. What the hands tried to cover were scratches, deep gouges in the skin that shouldn't have been possible. They were slow to heal, Brahms turning to look at his hands, seeing his nails were no longer normal. They were claws, long and sharp, curving slightly.
What kind of monster had he become? What kind of monster fed off of a woman's blood, and whose hands were not his own? Somewhere during his private musings, he tried to mutter out an apology. It was not one Odin was willing to accept, the God swinging out his arm, ether surging towards Brahms. In that moment Brahms would have welcome death, the man holding himself still for the oncoming onslaught. But then a feeble moan, a woman's voice, came from the bed,
"HEL!" Brahms was instantly by her side, kneeling on the bed as he took her in his arms. The energy Odin had unleashed crashed into the wall, destroying part of it. Brahms did not care, weeping tears as he held Hel in his arms. She was moaning, but her eyes were not open. Her skin was pale and cold, the goddess still in grave danger from what had been done to her.
"I am so sorry..." Brahms whispered to her, weeping. He did not ask for her forgiveness, knowing he did not deserve it. Not after what he had done to her. There was no way he could make amends, no way to atone for his sins against her. But he could try to heal her, Brahms pressing a hand to her chest. He was ready to send energy into her, to pump the healing ether directly into her struggling heart.
Odin saw what he was going to do, and made no move to stop him. Both brothers knew that a second healing from a different God's hand, might make all the difference in seeing that Hel did not die this day. But Odin didn't like Brahms so near to Hel, keeping a wary watch on him, with both hands glowing with hostile energy. If Brahms went for Hel's throat, he had no doubt Odin would throw that ether at him, all in order to keep Hel from being further tortured.
Brahms concentrated, pressing his hand against her. He waited for the tell tale glow, the energy to course over his skin. But nothing was happening, Brahms narrowing his eyes, and gritting
his teeth.
"What's happening?!" Odin demanded impatiently. "Why aren't you healing her?!"
Brahms ignored him, trying again, trying to force energy out of his skin. He could feel a responding tingle, the power still inside him, but different. It was changed somehow, perhaps distorted by the very blood he had consumed. He had the power, but he could no longer use it to help others, might not be able to use it even to help himself.
"It's not working!" Brahms admitted, abandoning all efforts to heal Hel. Instead he just cradled her to him, burying his face in her hair. "I...I can't do anything for her! Not like this! Brother...help me..."
Odin approached the bed, his face grim. "I'll help you all right." The energy flared brighter in Odin's hands, hinting at the strength of the ether he was about to use. This would not be the same as the ether Odin had used previously, this might very well be strong enough to kill Brahms. "I should have done this sooner." Brahms was nodding, thinking himself worthless and undeserving of the life he still had. "I should have just ignored our father's wishes from the start, and killed you the first chance I got! But no..."
The energy was released, Brahms screaming as it sent him flying against the wall. He felt it crack and splinter, caving in around him. "I let our relationship blind me to what needed to be done. Blind me enough to show mercy to you, to give you the same kind of death our father had."
Brahms did not at first register what Odin was saying, simply laying there covered in dust from the wall. "I can see now the wasting away illness was too good for the likes of you." Another slam of ether, the wall caving in enough to flood the room with sunlight. Brahms screamed, but it had nothing to do with the ether this time. The sun had touched him, and where it caressed, it BURNED. Even through his clothing, he could feel it, his skin hot and tingling, as though he had thrust his hand directly into a fire's flames.
