Title: A Song for St Valentine’s Day
Author: Ashtoreth Eldritch
Rating: R (violence and gore)
Word Count: 3882
Written for: Holly’s Horrorland Fifth Annual Vampire’s Day Soiree
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own Ambrogino or Lucretia. They are characters created for the (old)World of Darkness Vampire Chronicles by White Wolf games who allow humble players such as I to bring them to life in games.
A Song for St Valentine’s Day
Casa Giovanni, Roma, A.D. 1324
“One must always have an objective when meting out punishment, Lucretia,” Ambrogino spoke easily, patiently even, as he enjoyed each word as it formed in his mouth. The night sky being cloudless and displaying the full canopy of the stars added to his enjoyment, they were a perfect counterpoint to the breezes blowing in from the Tiber. He didn’t particularly care for the noises of the fountain, it was a distraction at the moment, although soon it would be easily ignored. “For without an objective, it is not an effective punishment and becomes merely an indulgence in tormenting the kine.”
Lucretia looked at her sire curiously. “You are not normally so keen to abstain from a chance to torment the kine.” She looked at the courtyard and the privacy it afforded them, her eyes ignoring the night-blooming flowers in favour of focusing on the man tied to a post before them. His hair was matted with blood and his own filth, giving him the appearance of a man much older than his score and three years. Her sire’s gaolers had not been kind to their old comrade.
Ambrogino followed his childe’s gaze and smirked. “That is true, to an extent,” he agreed readily. “This night, though, this night is about punishment for trespasses incurred in my demesne and I shall ensure that the lessons are fully absorbed.” His dark grey eyes moved up to lock on a mortal man being held on a balcony by two men-at-arms. He had been chosen to replace the man Ambrogino was going to break tonight and the necromancer thought it best that he knew how swiftly and brutally he changed things which displeased him. “It will reinforce the idea that I do not like history to repeat itself upon my lands.”
Blue eyes the colour of an Alpine lake followed Ambrogino’s and Lucretia smiled as she scented the fear coming off the witness. “What if this display fails to deter him a few years down the road? What if his wit dulls and he thinks that he can outwit the master of the land?”
“Then you may have him to play with, my dearest one,” he smiled at his precocious childe. “But enough. The night will get away from us if we are not careful. I intend to saturate the night with screams and pleas, and I should hate to lose even a minute.”
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