Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D is the property of its creator, Hideuki Kikuchi. I do not own D or any of the characters related to the novel series.
Warning: This story is rated R for language, violence, adult situations, and sexual content. Reader digression is advised.
Author's Notes: Special thanks the VHD Yahoo! Posting Board for their information on D, his sexuality, and so on and so forth. Special thanks also goes to Psi Yamaneko for her insights on D, his personality, sexuality, and ideas for this story; like the names. Sorry, but Forest wasn't going to play the victim this time, Psi.
I dedicate this story to Akemi and Psi, D's a dish, and we all know it.
Tilling my own grave to keep me level
Jam another dragon down the hole
Digging to the rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren
One that pushes me along and leaves me so
Desperate and ravenous
So weak and powerless
A Perfect Circle: Weak and Powerless
Her hand slowly reached out and touched the shining plate despite herself. As soon as her fingers touched the shining metal she jerked back as if it had bit her. She turned away from those intense silvery-blue eyes.
"She died a very, very long time ago," Morgan said dully, squeezing her eyes shut against the memories.
Of Chris. The baby. Of her. Of the life she never had. Of the wedding that she died before. Of leering crimson eyes and cold, leather clad hands touching her, stroking her with intent and purpose. Of the revolution she had felt. Of the pain of having needle sharp fangs tear through her throat.
D replied, "She was turned a very long time ago."
Morgan spun around to face the beautiful hunter and the stoic expression writ upon that too perfect face. A face that Morgan had the urge to slam her fist into just to see if she could make that Aristocratic nose crooked or those sleepy blue eyes widen in shock. How could he be so damned impassive with her soul bared to him on the table like that?
So, Morgan gave into anger. It was a much easier emotion to deal with than grief. She could focus it and let it temper her skill. She growled, feeling her fangs lengthen.
And she threw that punch.
D turned out of the way and grabbed her wrist. With a simple turn he had her in an arm lock. She glared up at him, seething in anger. She struggled against him, not caring about the pain. "You're not suppose to poke through a person's things," Morgan snapped, slamming her head back. The blow connected with his throat, causing D to gasp, but he only tightened his grip on her arm and jerked it up.
She continued to shrill, "Bastard! You don't know what she took from me! You don't have the right to go fucking through my things!"
D spun her around so she was facing him. He was gently holding her wrists as the memories were overtaking her. Morgan felt icy tears sting her eyes as she continued to scream, "It wasn't right! Not fair! The things she did and . . ."
She slumped, sobbing and defeated.
She hadn't had the heart to look at the items in over three thousand years, and yet this one man brought all of her defenses crashing down. She wept for Chris. Wept for herself. Wept for the baby and the life she never had.
Awkward arms wrapped around her shoulders and held her as she cried. Morgan clung to the tall, slender form holding her as she sobbed out thousands of years of frustration, fear, pain, and loss. She pressed her cheek against smooth armor as her bloody tears exhausted themselves to dry hiccups. She clutched at him and kept her eyes shut.
"Circe turned you against your will and killed your lover," D stated softly as he gently pushed her away from him. However, he did keep his hands on her shoulders as he studied her with long lashed silvery-blue eyes.
Morgan briskly wiped the bloody tears from her eyes and shook her head. She fiercely replied, "No, she did more than that. A lot more than that."
D looked at her expectantly, gracefully leaning against a weapon's cabinet. His face was again unreadable, simply expectant. Morgan ran her fingers through her hair, absently realizing that she probably looked like Shit on a Shingle.
She began to tell her story.
Kirsten was cold. Her arms felt heavy and numb. Her legs were tired. There was an icy draft caressing places that shouldn't be caressed by an icy draft.
She opened her eyes and steeled herself as her training demanded. She flexed her fingers and tried to move her arms. All she could do was jiggle them a little. The clanging of chains rang out through the darkness.
"What the fuck?" Kirsten cursed as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She looked up only to see her arms chained above her head. With actual chains. Nobody used chains anymore when nylon rope was so easily available.
There was another draft of cold air that whirled around her, causing her nipples to tighten and her body to shiver as goose bumps blossomed along her skin. That was when she realized she was naked. She gritted her teeth as she became more aware.
There was no lingering pain anywhere except her arms. That meant that she hadn't been raped. Yet. Thank God for small miracles, she thought wiry as she gave the chains another experimental tug.
Her eyes widened as she recognized Chris' voice. She made out another shadowy shape chained to the ceiling like she had been. "Chris? Are you okay?" she replied, twisting her arms and the chains to face him.
"Kirsty, I'm scared. Where are we?" Chris admitted, his head turning frantically as he tried to inspect his surroundings. Without his glasses he was practically blind except for his nearsightedness.
Kirsten took a deep breath and answered, "I don't know where we are, my love, but don't panic. Panic is the worse thing you can do in a situation like this."
Another facet of her training involved keeping a hostage calm at all cost.
"But maybe I want you to panic. I want to hear you scream as I turn your bride into one of us before we kill you," a husky, seductive female voice purred from the darkness.
Kirsten was perfectly still as a leather gloved hand caressed her face. The hand gently stroked her neck to run down and cup her left breast. Kirsten grit her teeth as her nipple was rolled between two fingers only to be surrounded by a cold wetness. She had enough night vision to see the curly red head bent over her breast and suckling it.
It was the most revolting thing that Kirsten had felt. The woman kneaded Kirsten's right breast as she continued to nurse the left. Kirsten drew her legs up to kick the woman off of her when she felt something sharp stab through her breast.
She cried out as she felt blood well up through the wound. The woman began to suck harder, her teeth scraping the sensitive flesh. I've been bitten. This crazy bitch bit me, Kirsten thought wildly as the hand on her right breast became rougher as more blood was drawn from the left.
With a grunt, Kirsten kicked at the woman hard in the stomach. It sent her sprawling. The teeth tore at Kirsten's skin as the woman, no vampire, fell back.
The vampire's crimson eyes were glowing brightly in her exquisite face and her fangs dripped blood. She stood up and licked her mouth. She gave Kirsten a lazy smile. "Delicious and feisty. I like that. I am Lady Circe and I'm about to bestow upon you a great gift."
"More like great curse," Morgan sighed as she sat on her cot.
D said, "She was going to initiate you into Belle Morte because she found you attractive and your military background."
"And she killed Chris just because she wanted to, but it wasn't just that," Morgan admitted as she looked away from the dhampire.
D said nothing, but then again Morgan already found out that D was a man of few words. Which, in the case of most men that was a good thing. Except with D it became frustrating.
"I was pregnant and Chris never knew. Of course, the baby died when I died," Morgan whispered as she hugged herself.
D stated, "So you hunt other vampires now, for vengeance."
"Yeah, everyone I kill gives me a tiny piece of that life back," Morgan retorted dryly.
D gave her a questioning look. In all truth, he looked confused. Well, Morgan liked to be confusing, it kept her opponents off balance.
D stood up and headed for the door. He told her, "I have to get back to the town. I am going after Circe though. I understand your pain, but there is too much at risk."
With that he left.
Morgan quipped, "Yeah, good bye to you too, buddy."
"That poor girl. Just a few days before her wedding, hadn't even told her fiancé that she was pregnant, and basically gets raped and changed by Circe. If she wants to kill a few leeches I say let her, D," Left Hand said as D started the trip back to Lichpin before sundown.
The parasite continued, "Hey, maybe you should go back and comfort her, you know. She's a lonely girl. So what she's a vampire. You'll warm her up quickly enough. It'll do you both some good. Its about time that you've gotten laid."
D sighed, ignoring his hand's constant commentary. He had his reasons for his self-imposed celibacy. Mainly his father's side of the family and that he could lose control. He did not want to have some poor girl die in his arms for the sake of physical gratification. And then there was the annoyance that laid in his left palm. D doubted that there wasn't a woman who would be afraid of that.
Not that he could blame them, the parasite was an annoyance at best.
Besides, he had a village to protect. Shannon and her brother Donovan. Giles. All three of them had shown him kindness despite what he was. It touched him and made his life a bit more bearable. Giles even understood him on a certain level while Shannon depended on him to keep her town safe where she could not.
He could not help Morgan. She had needed help an eternity ago and there was no one to give it to her. So she suffered for another's momentary pleasure. If killing vampires gave her some small amount of peace, then D wouldn't take that away from her.
Except for this one.
D had told Shannon he would try. He hadn't made any promises; it was never good to do that in this line of work. However, Circe's death was something a long time coming and D had the satisfaction if by the odd chance that he would fail, there would be another to pick up where he had left off.
Shannon was looking through paperwork. Town budget, taxes, and law enforcement policies. She sighed and rubbed her temples. Paperwork, I hate paperwork, she thought with a dismal sigh.
Luckily, she had a savor: there was a soft knock on her door.
"Come in," she replied as she reached under her desk. Her hand curled around her familiar pulse pistol from when she had served as sherif. If Belle Morte decided to waltz into her office again, she'd be ready for them.
The door opened and she relaxed at the sight of her visitor. D was standing there. She motioned him into the office. Shannon couldn't help but to watch his elegant, graceful form as he walked over to his desk. His beauty put most vampire's to shame, but then again he was half vampire after all.
She removed her hand from her pulse pistol and D said, "You wouldn't have been able to shoot them in time."
Shannon frowned at him and asked, "Is she dead?"
"No. I'm waiting for the right moment and gathering more information about Circe," D answered.
Shannon smiled fondly and said, "You've been talking to Mr. Wynsten-Price then."
D simply looked at her. She couldn't read his expression due to the fact his hat hid over half of his face. She saw herself reflected in the large blue jewel that he wore around his neck. She wondered if it had any significance to it, or if it was simply for decoration.
Shannon sighed and kicked up her feet on her desk, carefully avoiding the paperwork. She asked, "So, what are you here for?"
"You need to give an order for the townspeople to take cover tonight. I plan to engage Belle Morte when they find out that I have not left and you have not recanted the bounty on her head," D answered.
Shannon's eyes widened as she exclaimed, "You're not going to fight them in my town! Are you kidding?"
"I will try lead them away from your town, but I cannot make any guarantees," D replied simply.
Shannon sighed, "Well, at least you're not making false promises."
"They are a waste of time and give false hope," D replied thoughtfully.
Shannon sat up, swinging her legs back to the proper place on the floor. She looked at the dhampire and replied, "Sometimes people need a little hope, no matter if it's false or not."
D said nothing to that. Instead, he changed the subject. "Just have the people be ready. Do not put them all together. Keep them separate and hidden. It'll buy them some time."
"Why don't we just gather them all in the church? I'm sure Father Anderson wouldn't mind," Shannon argued as she rose to her feet.
D explained, "There are a werewolf and a witch. A very powerful witch. Crosses and hollowed ground will not stop them, Mayor Montgomery."
"What about on the other side of the river. Vampires can't cross running water, and there's a silver mine not too far from here we can hide in. Ulric won't enter a place that has silver lined through out its walls," Shannon suggested hopefully, snapping her fingers eagerly.
D shook his head, causing his raven locks to fly about his face. He replied, "No. Silver amplifies magic. While the mine will give you protection against Ulric, Anne, and Yin-Xi, Swan and Moira can enter with ease."
Shannon's head was throbbing. She sighed as she headed for the door. "Fine. I'll tell everyone to take cover. Any suggestions?"
"Crosses will not hurt and will give protection against the two vampires of Belle Morte. If any of the townspeople have guns with silver bullets, tell them to keep them at hand at all times. As for the witch, there is nothing I can offer you," D answered simply as he opened the door for her.
Shannon sighed and said, "Well, let's get this over with."
Night had fallen on Lichpin, blanketing it in a velvety darkness. It was a clear night and the three-quarter moon blanketed the landscape in a ghostly day. Thousands of stars twinkled obliviously in the sky. A cool breeze chased away the heat of the day and was the only sound heard for miles.
The residents of Lichpin had gone to various hiding places all except a certain few that were still being evacuated. Mainly Giles.
D stood at the town's entrance facing the mountain where the castle was established. His sword was already naked in his hand. His body was loose, ready for fluid movement. The breeze toyed with strands of his hair and cape, making it wave behind him.
"The townspeople are safe for the most part," Giles' voice drifted behind D.
D turned his head to look at the retired vampire hunter. Giles had taken off his glasses, his keen eyes surveying the land around them. D noticed that there was a scar running down Giles forehead and he was wearing a gold hoop earing in his left ear while there had not been one before.
D replied, "You should join them."
"I may be an old man, hunter, but I was once a hunter too and I want to die like one," Giles said, placing his hands in his pockets.
D replied, "The townspeople need you to protect them. Shannon and her brother."
"Little Donny pitched a fit. He wanted to see you kill those, 'Undead leeches'. His words, not mine," Giles told D fondly, shaking his head a tiny bit.
D gave Giles a meaningful look and Giles sighed. "You won't take no for an answer, will you?"
"No. In case I should fail, they will need you," D pointed out as he saw something move in the distance. His eyes narrowed as he watched the speck of movement as it became four specks of movement. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he sensed what was coming.
Giles asked, "What is it, D?"
"Protect Shannon and Donny, this has become more complicated," D stated as he took a stance, his sword an extension of his body.
Giles looked at the horizon with narrowed eyes. He cursed, "Bloody hell . . ." He then sighed and began to turn away. He placed his hand on D's shoulder.
D tilted his head to look at the old man.
Giles said, "Good luck, you're going to need it."
D simply nodded as Giles ran off.
"Goodie, he didn't leave," Anne said with a smirk as they stood on the outskirts of town. Swan was beside her, an arm wrapped around her waist possessively. Soon she'd have another, prettier dhampire to play with. Much, much prettier, she thought as she looked at D.
Moira was standing a bit off to the side, her eyes close as she chanted in that odd, lyrical language. She was floating a piece of some sort of dark crystal between her palms. Her chestnut hair was blowing behind her by an unfelt wind.
Ulric threw back his head and howled at the moon. Anne looked at the werewolf in disgust as he shed his human form for the more lupine shape. She watched as hands became claws and a human head became wolfish.
Moira kept chanting and the crystal glowed a dark magenta. The wind picked up till leaves and her hair were blowing in swirling eddies around her. She stopped moving and her chanting became louder as a satisfied look crossed her features.
Swan stated, "Looks like they evacuated the town."
"Silly rabbits," Anne chuckled as she cracked her knuckles, "Like lambs to the slaughter."
Moira whispered, "You may begin. Remember. Our lady wants the hunter alive."
"Yes, it would be such a shame to kill him," Swan replied viciously, flashing his fangs.
Anne smiled as she took her whip from her belt. She cracked it and grinned when it's satisfying snap rang out almost as loudly as the wolf's howling. She coiled the whip up and held it with both hands.
"Let's begin," she purred as she headed up the parade.
D watched as the four members of Belle Morte approached. He narrowed his eyes. Five, there are five members. Where's Yin-Xi? Why isn't she here?
Ulric had transformed. Saliva ran down his mouth and fangs in clear ribbons. His furry body heaved with each breath. He growled at D, wiggling clawed fingers in anticipation.
"Well, well, the pretty dhampire is all alone," Anne said in a singsong voice as she let her whip trail to the ground.
Moira, the witch, was holding a hovering dark crystal that glowed with magenta energy. It floated between her palms as she chanted. Leaves and her hair whirled around her in a circular motion as she worked her spell. D made note to watch her.
Swan looked at Moira and quietly asked her, "How long do you need?"
"Five minutes at most to finish this spell," she answered as she looked at D with glowing violet eyes, "Don't let him close in on you."
Ulric laughed and replied, "He'll be begging for death in . . ."
D didn't let him finish his boast. He jumped through the air, his sword swinging down before his body landed. Ulric looked up and jumped up as well to ward him off.
The werewolf growled and gnashed his claws at D. D twisted to the side and simply held his sword out. Ulric's motion and the curve of the blade did the rest.
The werewolf's yellow eyes widened as he lurched. He choked and blood bubbled from his lips and fell to the ground. Ulric held his chest and mid-section, stumbling forward, his eyes wide with disbelief. He turned his face toward D as he held out a bloody hand toward the dhampire.
"Fuck . . ." Ulric chuckled, more blood pouring grotesquely from his mouth.
In a diagonal line from under his left arm to his right side, the top part of his body slid to the ground, blood spurting from the wound. D brought up his sword again and swooped it down. The werewolf's head bounced to the ground seconds after his torso.
"He killed Ulric," Swan said. His green eyes were wide and blinking as D turned toward him. He snapped his arm, shaking the blood from his precious sword. Anne brought her arm up to strike with the whip.
Swan held something in his hands that grew into a shining staff. He spun it with capable hands in a complicated, showy arc. D wasn't impressed.
He rushed the vampire and her lover.
Anne sprang to the side, cracking her whip. D let its tip graze against his sword as he deflected the blow. Swan swung the staff at D, but D parried the blow.
Both of them stepped back, readying their weapons again. D charged at Anne. She couldn't use her whip to deflect his sword. She jumped back at the first swipe, taking to the air and hovering.
He heard a faint flicker of movement behind him. The staff whistled slightly as it was brought down toward him. D simply brought his sword up and behind him, catching the staff. He spun around sharply, the blade scraping against the staff and pushing it back.
Swan's eyes widened as D pushed him back. He knocked the other dhampire off balance to counter with his sword. The blade went down and Swan was barely able to roll away from it. However, it did catch some of his long, almost white hair; sheering it from his head.
Swan sprang to his feet with a savage snarl displaying his lengthening fangs, the green eyes bleeding to crimson. He spun the staff over his head, making it hum and whistle in the night air. He took an offensive stance and charged at D.
D side stepped most of the blows and only had to parry one of them with his sword.
"Stand still, damn you!" Swan hissed, saliva dripping from his fangs.
He continued his onslaught with his staff. D heard the crack of a whip right before its edge bit into his shoulder. His armor absorbed the impact, but the whip had managed to damage the plating.
He looked up to see Anne bring back her arm again to attack. D jumped out of the way to narrowly avoid her next strike. She snapped back her arm again and the whip's edge went shooting toward him.
At the same time, Swan swung his staff at him again.
With his left hand, D caught the whip and used his right to block the staff with his sword. Anne began to yank. The rope bit into D's hand as she pulled with her vampiric strength. She took to the air again and D had to brace himself to keep from going with her. He kept his hold on the whip, not willing to let her have that weapon again.
The whip cut into his palm and he could feel the parasite's irritation at being injured. D jerked to the side and ran behind Swan. Swan brought up the staff again to hit D. D wrapped his end of the whip around Swan's slender wrists and jerked it hard.
Swan went crashing to the ground and Anne had to let go of the whip so she wouldn't follow him. D rushed to the fallen dhampire with his sword ready. Swan's crimson eyes widened as D prepared to strike the killing blow.
"Moira!" Anne screamed.
Magenta lightning split the sky, growling in rage. D heard the lyrical chanting as it picked up speed and pitch. Wind suddenly raged around the three, catching D's cape and whipping it around like a windsock. His hair was in his eyes and his hat was blown from his head.
It was growing colder. D found it hard to move. He was having trouble seeing. His vision was blurring and each tiny movement seemed more impossible than the last.
However, he did manage to raise his left hand.
"You're gonna pay for that thing with the whip, D," the Symbiote said dryly as the eyes, nose, and mouth formed from the flesh on D's palm. The mouth stretched open impossibly wide as it began to suck the magic that Moira was casting. D braced himself as Left Hand swallowed the spell at an impressive rate.
Anne shouted, "His hand, Swan, stop his hand!"
Moira's eyes were glowing as her chanting became intenser and even more focused. The crystal was vibrating wildy in her hands as she continued to cast her spell. Her hair fanned around her as the magenta light from her crystal grew.
Distracted by sucking the spell, Swan was behind him. The metal staff struck against the back of D's head hard. D wobbled but did not fall. He spun around to parry the next blow with his right as he still kept his left arm extended as the parasite continued to swallow the spell.
Anne caught his right hand with her whip and Swan took the moment to bring the pipe down hard upon D's right wrist. Reflexively, his hand uncurled around the sword's handle. Swan caught the sword and snarled.
With one clean swipe, he severed D's left hand from his wrist.
As the pale hand fell to the ground, the spell hit D like a well planned blow. He froze as he was lifted from the ground. Dark bands of energy wrapped themselves around D like chains, positively unbreakable.
Moira walked over to him. Her chest rose with each labored breath. Her skin shone with sweat and she was wobbling slightly. She clutched her crystal with her left hand.
"A symbiotic demon. You're full of tricks," she panted as D was tilted to her level. He glared at her wordlessly.
Then she placed the icy crystal upon D's forehead.
He heard Anne say, "For a second, I thought we were dead, Moira."
With that, he blacked out.
"Oh, damn, this isn't good," Morgan groaned as she noticed that the town was empty. Completely deserted. She stepped out of her mobile support vehicle and looked around.
She walked into town and frowned at the werewolf cut in three pieces. "Someone got hack happy," she said dryly as she noted how clean and fine the cuts were.
She continued to look around until she saw a sword lying on the ground. A very familiar and long sword. It was almost seven feet tall with a long, delicately curved blade.
Morgan bent down and picked up D's sword. Just a few feet away from it were droplets of fresh blood. D's scent was still in the air as well as the sharp tang of the ozone smell of magic.
She clutched the sword to herself as she looked around. There was no tall, lean body dressed in black armor with a matching cape. No head of impossibly beautiful black hair, pearlescent skin and delicate features. No sign of D other than the sword.
That only meant that Circe had the hunter in her clutches now.
Morgan sat down on the ground as she studied the sword. The sword that had been responsible for more vampires' deaths that she could count. Even more than the ones she had killed from what rumors had said.
"Oh, D, I'm sorry," she said sadly.
Morgan could barely imagine what Circe would do to someone who looked like D. Her hand absently rubbed her breast. She could almost feel those fangs in her again as that icy mouth sucked the very life from her.
And she had no idea where the castle was at to go make her last stand against Circe and perhaps save D.
"He didn't deserve this," she said sadly as she looked up at the sky. She shouted, "He didn't deserve this!"
A nasal, hoarse voice like an old man's said, "Honey, D doesn't deserve a lot of the shit he takes from people, but he does it anyway."
Morgan pulled out her Glock and looked around. She turned off the safety as she looked around. She hissed, "Show yourself."
She felt fingers lightly tap her hip. Startled, she spun around to see something that startled even her jaded eyes. "What the fuck?"
It was a hand with pearlescent skin and long, slender fingers. It was standing up on its index fingers. It had a face with beady eyes, a tiny nose, and a disproportionately big mouth that was upside down. It wiggled its fingers in greeting at her.
"Heyia, babe," it said sarcastically.
Morgan let out a startled yelp and aimed her gun at it.
The hand stated, "You can't kill me."
"What are you, Thing Adams?" Morgan quipped as she put her gun back in its shoulder holster.
The hand replied, "No, I'm part of D."
"Come again?" she asked, stooping forward so she could study it. To her horror it started to stare at her breasts. Growling, she picked it up and turned it right side up.
It sighed in relief and answered, "I'm D's Left Hand. It's a long, complicated story, but we both want the same thing right now."
"You were staring at my tits!" Morgan snapped at it, shaking it slightly.
To her revulsion, it grinned at her. "And what nice tits they are babe. I told D he should have tried to hook up with you. Despite the fact that you're a vampire and all."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow you to bits?" Morgan asked, glaring at the thing. Then she grumbled, "I'm talking to the undead version of Thing. Now I've seen everything."
It answered, "Because we both want to kill Circe and save D. We've got common goals here, toots. So, lets join forces and get me attached back to my host so we can kill Circe."
"And how am I suppose to believe you?" Morgan answered, scowling at it.
The damned thing grinned at her again. It answered, "Well, Kirsten, your fiancé was Chris Campbell and was killed by Circe. He also wrote cheesy vampire novels."
"Chris' novels weren't cheesy," Morgan grumbled as she stood up, holding the hand in one hand and D's sword in the other.
The hand chuckled and said, "Well, come on. We can't save D moping around here. He does enough of it as it is."
Morgan lifted an eyebrow and asked, "And you know where Circe's at?"
"Honey, I'm a demonic parasite. I can see and do things that you can't. I just happen to be attached to D. Now, lets get going," it retorted.
Morgan turned back to her vehicle and snapped, "No wonder D's so distant all the time if you're the only thing that he can communicate with. I'd be bitchy too."
"Morgan, you're bitch on your own," it told her dryly.
She found herself grinning despite herself and retorted, "Thank you very much. It's a long and hard process, but it pays off in the long run."
To her surprise, it was actually laughing at her.
Each of the song quotes at the begging of each chapter have something in common: they are all sung by Tool lead singer Manyard James Keenan. Manyard is also the lead singer of A Perfect Circle, which sounds like a more feminine version of Tool. I highly recommend both Tool and A Perfect Circle to you rock fans, however, both bands touch upon delicate subject matter. Especially A Perfect Circle's "Judith" and almost every Tool song written.
Also, the idea of this story was greatly inspired by the movie "Kill Bill". The character Morgan was greatly inspired by the Bride, right down to her losing her baby. However, the idea of a vampire killing its Sire for vengeance is an old one and still a good plot point.
Finally, this story is peppered with at least a dozen different vampire pop culture references. Lets see if you can spot them. Giles was the easy one, so don't mention him.
Don't forget to feed the writer and review!