Agony

Porcelain heard the plaintive tunes of a guitar echoing through the place. It was a sound she was quite unaccustomed to. She was so used to the sound of Jubei's organ playing...

Some nights, that music was the only thing that soothed her to sleep. Perhaps the overtly lavish surroundings were something she would have to get accustomed to- after all she had lived so many years in that dank place...

~

So, of course, she had to find the source of this noise. she came out of her rooms wrapped up in a dainty mauve peignoir- it was a fussy thing, with pearl sewn into the material and bows; and a matching chiffon rob with large bell sleeves; it trailed over her  ankles with layers of ruffles. She had grown to like the limitless wardrobe thrusted at her; each detail to dressing her like her name sake 'porcelain doll' thought of...now she couldn't turn back..

~

Down that cold hallway she traveled; paintings watching her; she went floated like a princess in a trance; the music her spindle that she was destined to prick her finger on.


When she got there, traveling down the spiraling stairs, the music just behind the heavy door-she recalled the vampires; the band-oh, yes, the dungeons lay ahead...Just beyond that door-

It wasn't as if she were forbidden to see them, but really, there was just no overlapping of their presence. A pity, now that she thought of it.

~

Her hand fell upon the handle, pushing it up, the music engulfing her so completely for a moment she had forgotten why she had came down there. She thought on who it could be playing such a lovely tune, so full of emotional agony. She remembered one particular one, the one with the sad face, the most curious cerise eyes.

She looked around at the dark dungeons-luminated only by a few candelabras hanging around- this entrance opened up to what was clearly the vampire's den-the row of coffins, all opened, but no vampire to be seen-not in her line of vision, ah, yes, feeding time.
~

Finally her eyes caught Agony's, the burning cerise, as his pale fingers strummed quickly- faster than she saw anybody else stream; the sad, mournful tune becoming desperate.


She felt something peculiar, standing there, listening...It wasn't familiarity, but still, she felt an odd melancholy that she couldn't quite explain away...

~
Eventually the song died out, much to her disappointment-the spell shattering. Agony set the guitar aside; form slowly rising.  His features were that melancholy she recalled before-when Mr. Autumn first presented her to the band. She really was just a doll to show off, wasn't she? And he was ever so proud of his purchase, of his creation...

"Agony." He began, giving a slight bow to her; giving his proper introduction-one that was foregone last time.

"Porcelain." She curtsied in return; in proper decorum, smiling at him. She watched as nervousness seemed to overtake his being; as if he was at loss to what to do next. Well, she had disturbed after all, it made sense...It was obvious he was usually a solitary creature. Perhaps he was thirsting, the way he looked at her-it cut through, right down to the quick.

"Sir?" she deigned to ask, despite herself, voice meek. The strangest thing happened then, he smiled at her. She saw the glint of fangs behind those thin lips.

"You just look like someone I knew."  Agony uttered, then looking away, into the corner at his opened coffin. “Pardon." He excused himself; clearly looking for something. She wondered how old he truly was...

He appeared to be turned in his twenties, but during what era? Obviously not of this era, nor any of the past twenty years at the very least. Far too polite, and the way he composed himself....

~

Agony returned with a small stack of old photographs-they were quite yellowed with age. Despite this, she could clearly make out Agony, though clearly, without the makeup, without the rock star guise.

With him, was a girl...she looked like...just like her. She closed her eyes, running over fingers over the photographs, over the faces.

Her brow furrowed, a flash of something encompassed her. Sitting in that chair, grasping that gloved hand, the flash of the camera, the smell of the powder. She heard the strains of music, felt the beat of pointe shots on stage, the twirling, and the leaping.

The feel of a cold body on top her, fangs buried in her throat. Then it stopped, and all that was left was hollow darkness...

~

She opened her eyes; clutching the pictures subconsciously. "What does it all mean, Agony?" she asked in a breathy voice, as if everything had been sucked out of her.

Agony looked at her with a curious look. "What does what mean, Porcelain?" She knew he had to know. He HAD to; he had carried these photos in his coffin all along...

Did that mean she was a vampire too? Wait, no, that didn't make any sense. She ate, she went into the sun. Sure, she had no clue as to how old she was, and how she came to be at that dank place, but...that...

"Who am I?" she asked, thrusting the photos back into his hands.

Why didn't he come for her? Why did Mr. Autumn? What was her connection to him? Was she merely an object of beauty to Mr. Autumn? Was she something to hold over Agony's head for past sins? Sins she clearly knew nothing about...

Agony neared her, so close, so close she could hear the blood rushing through his veins, but it was so slow. There was no thud of his heart; though, but he was a vampire that was to be expecting, ah, yes, he must have fed...

He put the photos in his pocket, and in a flash, he had a cold hand on her cheek. "You're Porcelain. Perhaps in another time, you were my Tragedie, but no longer are you mine." he pressed his lips against her forehead in a chaste kiss.

"Alas such bittersweet agony it is to see you Porcelain..."