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       #Post#: 294020--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: October 21, 2012, 11:26 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       It was that time of the night again, his shift finally over;
       Rafferty gazed about the tavern with a distant indifference,
       bordering on disgust, though he was always staring down amongst
       the tavern-dwellers as if he was better than them. Was he? Did
       the night terrors prove he was? His blue eyes narrowed at the
       thought of another night, sleeping, only to awaken in cold
       sweats, and remain awake for the rest of the night. Such was his
       curse. Maybe he would get drunk this night... He knew he
       wouldn't, he never did; not even the hunt gave him the thrill it
       once did, when he was young, eager, when the smallest taste or
       whiff of blood drove him into a sort of frenzy and he bathed in
       it, laughing as his victims screamed and begged as he slowly
       ended their lives over fires as he tore flesh from their bones.
       That was a sort of drunkenness he sought after, dulled now by
       the years of doing it simply because he could. Now though... He
       did because he had to, because if he didn't, he would die.
       Realizing the tavern-dwellers were watching him askance, shying
       away from him, he snapped back into reality and put down the
       shot glass, which he had cleaned so many times before. Rafferty
       enjoyed the scenery this place had, it attracting many different
       shades of people from the most distant of places. But, in the
       end, he would grow bored of hearing the travelers' tales and
       drag himself up the steps into his own room, where he would
       sleep for a good three hours before waking up; or he would sneak
       out and go hunt.
       He was what he was, however. To live forever at the cost of
       ending another life, of bathing in their blood. His other... kin
       were different from him, or he from them, as he figured out a
       way to go days, sometimes even weeks, without killing and still
       retaining his life. And sometimes, he could get himself in the
       killer mindset and have a party with his victim, or victims.
       Slaughtering whole families for amusement was something he did,
       while not regularly, but often. It was amazing what one could do
       if applying enough pressure to the parents in order to get them
       to... He shook his head and banished such thoughts, as he was
       slowly starting to get aroused at the thought. A freak of
       nature, Rafferty was. A redcap. A creature that kills to live
       and lives to kill.
       And so, he plodded up the stairs to where his room was, and
       pushed open the small, wooden door and entered, closing it
       behind him.
       His bed was quickly occupied by Rafferty as he reached beneath
       his bed to grasp his small, burlap sack that he always carried
       with him: it smelled of death and decay. Loosening the strings
       that closed the mouth of the sack, he pulled out a skull about
       the size of the average human. Rubies glittered out of the
       eye-sockets, the skull itself bleach white except where a few
       spots of red stained the white perfection of the skull. One
       would note, if one were experts of such things, that the skull
       resembled a females skull. In fact, the female skull resting
       within Rafferty's two hands --one of which adorned by a bracelet
       made of small bones, which came from ex-owner of the skull as
       well-- was Rafferty's ex-wife's own. He kept both skull and
       bracelet of small bones as a reminder of the day he ended her
       pathetic life. The skull was also how he could go days without
       needing to kill, to bathe in the blood of the victim.
       Glacial blue eyes met blood red, ruby eyes with a sort of
       primal, feral hatred that made the man shake. How he loved the
       woman. How he loathed her. But she was dead now, by his hands,
       and, once that thought found its way into his rational brain, he
       calmed down and laughed at the thought. Laughed at how her
       entrails felt against his hands as he stuffed them into her
       mouth, as he choked the life out of her with her own organs,
       laughing all the while as he did so. Eventually, he laughter
       subsided, but not after a neighbor called out, "Shut the fuck
       up! You're scarin' the whore!"
       Rafferty scowled in the direction of the voice but allowed the
       insult to pass, as he understood the need to get his dick wet
       and have someone interrupt such a thing. He enjoyed it, at
       least. His partner... Not so much. And how her "lover" failed to
       protect her as Rafferty... Again, he stopped himself as he was,
       once again, getting aroused by such thoughts. But, how she sang
       for him... He was half a mind to make use of the whore his
       'neighbor' was making use of but resisted the urge and tucked
       the skull back into the sack after planting a kiss onto its
       forehead and stuffed it back under the bed.
       He rose, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so; kicking his boots
       off and unbuttoning his pants as well, letting said pants fall
       to the floor. His shirt soon joined the pants. Stepping out of
       the fallen pants, he studied the full-body mirror, poking at
       various scars that crisscrossed his body; noted the scars where
       flesh had been bitten off during one of his few encounters with
       his own kind. After assessing his body, as he was wont to do
       morning and night, he went back to the bed and laid atop the
       blankets, the moon casting along his cruelly perfect features;
       his blue eyes seemed to glow due to the moons eye looking down
       at him, his face painted pale and sinister with the night's
       illumination.
       His eyes closed a few minutes afterward and his breathing
       slowed, evened out and the night terrors descended upon his
       dreams.
       #Post#: 295709--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: October 25, 2012, 7:01 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       And so, just as was fated, Rafferty found himself awake, staring
       at the ceiling through indifferent eyes; his stomach rumbled its
       displeasure at being left to starve, though he had just eaten a
       few hours prior going to bed. His body shook due to the cold
       sweat that covered his naked body. With a slowness that was
       unnatural, he left the bed and got dressed; his body moving
       faster as he woke up, though there was still some dregs of
       slowness. It was with this slowness that he moved down the
       stairs into the tavern room and then moved behind the bar to
       help out the usual haunts that got here really late, or really
       early, he had never been sure and didn't ask. After serving
       them, he made himself a drink, which he hardly tasted lest he
       throw up. He cared not for such things as he was usually
       drinking blood of another person. He eyed those around him,
       wiping fingers on his jeans and stepped from behind the counter
       to walk out the door. Rafferty had kept what he was pretty low
       key and so, none knew why he left in the middle of the night and
       didn't come back in until the false dawn.
       His killings were sporadic and only sometimes did he ever
       actually kill his victim; sometimes he would go back to the same
       victim over the course of several months, killing them slowly.
       Women and children tasted the best, in his opinion; he usually
       killed the men outright as he didn't care for them particularly,
       though he was wont to remove their hearts and eat them if said
       men were fit and healthy. If not, they just rotted there or
       watched as Rafferty destroyed their lives before their eyes. It
       was a simple matter for the most part, as he had a century or so
       of practice at it.
       Tonight, he would go all out.
       #Post#: 308576--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: January 4, 2013, 3:36 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       There the blue-eyed demon stood, staring into the first floor
       window of a two story house, indifference filling his gaze as he
       pulled his hands from out of his pockets to push the window up.
       It was a failed attempt.
       With a heavy sigh, Rafferty reached into his back pocket and
       pulled out a thin knife and slipped it between the window and
       worked the lock free. With a soft groan, the window came up and
       the man was inside, closing the window behind him lest someone
       escape. Smiling slightly to himself, the redcap surveyed the
       room he was. Looked like the dining area; the crackling of a
       fire reached his ears then and he nodded. It was cold out, so it
       made sense. Rolling up his sleeves, he slipped the knife back
       into the pocket and went into the kitchen, memorizing each
       detail just as he had the dining room and all the rooms he would
       then visit, even visiting the victims rooms to make sure he knew
       everything about the house that his eyes and nose and ears could
       find; checking for squeaks on the wooden floors, the doors.
       No kids, though there was eight people; some related, others
       not. Family visiting? He frowned deeply. While he didn't have a
       problem killing whole families, there was three that lived out
       of town. Couldn't kill people that lived out of town, not yet.
       But, it would lead to questions as to why they weren't killed...
       Maybe pin the murders on them. It would be quite the stretch,
       however. Abandon the kill? He had surveyed several people
       throughout the week, but this was a new development. Would be
       worth watching. Maybe just kidnap one of the women... The one
       who was family and keep the others here. Yes, definitely should
       do that.
       With that in mind, his thoughts formed several scenarios over
       the next several days as he killed her soul and then her body.
       Breaking people was always an enjoyment of his, for he found new
       ways and everyone had a breaking point, it was just a matter of
       how long they could stand it. Children were unnaturally
       resilient and the women... Whenever he got a mother and her kid,
       she tried to be strong but, alas, she would fail. But there was
       one who didn't break, no matter what... Instead, she was the one
       who broke him. He clenched his fists preparing to strike the
       woman in the bed for even being the same sex as the one who had
       broken Rafferty's heart, who dared tried to be like her. His
       lips formed a snarl as he stared at the pathetic creature who
       would break so easily beneath his tortures. It was pathetic. He
       might as well kill her now and save himself the trouble. Find
       someone else who would last longer, give him days and days of
       exercise as he exercised his techniques upon them instead. But,
       he did not, for he might be surprised by this one.
       With that, he pulled with thin knife out of his pocket and
       silenced the breath of the man next to her with a quick cut to
       the exposed artery along his throat and then slid the blade into
       the mans throat, piercing the esophagus so he would then drown
       on his own blood. It would last all the much longer with the
       nicked artery instead of a fully cut artery. The man started to
       move and so did Rafferty.
       Placing his hand over the woman's mouth to stifle any screams,
       the redcap murmured in her ear as he leaned in, blue eyes
       piercing blue eyes. "This is the last you'll see of these
       people, the ones you love. Every day you live is a day granted
       by me. You cannot escape; you can only suffer or enjoy. I do
       apologize for ending his life, but yours I will not apologize
       for. You've done nothing to me, personally, but you are an
       imposter; a sick imitation. I do this for survival and for so
       much more. I will remove my hand from your mouth. Make a noise
       to wake anyone up, they will die and your death will even
       slower." Adding with a hiss, "I hate killing unnecessarily and
       if you force me to, instead of days it will be weeks until you
       embrace death." With that, Rafferty bit her cheek hard enough to
       break the skin and licked the blood, groaning softly as he did
       so and then released her and hauled her up out of bed.
       Nodding at her silence, though she made a few scared noises that
       people were wont to make, Rafferty guided her to the stairs and
       down them and out the backdoor. At that point she tried to run
       and scream but before she could take two steps, she was eating
       mud as Rafferty tripped her and then forced her head into the
       dirt. Leaning, he hissed into her ear, "What did I say, you
       bitch?" Grabbing a fistful of her hair, Rafferty forced her up
       without ceremony and, with the same hold, half-dragged,
       half-guided the woman through the alleyways; her fists beating
       futilely at his hold. The redcap hardly noticed as he pulled her
       along, sending her stumbling from time to time.
       Eventually, Rafferty found himself at an abandoned warehouse
       that was a few hours from town. It stank of blood and death. A
       few skeletons and pieces of bones were scattered throughout the
       field and inside the warehouse. By now, the woman was numb with
       shock that this was actually happening to her. She had probably
       heard about the kidnappings, the murders, but never did she
       think it would happen to her.
       "They never do, darlin'."
       She jumped at his words and settled back to resignation.
       Rafferty frowned. "Don't tell me you're all ready done. I
       swear... You humans are so unpredictable. You'd better not
       already be broken inside. Not that it matters; I can put you
       back together and then break you again..." He shrugged and
       tossed her into one of the walls, where she collapsed and
       whimpered.
       Sighing, Rafferty went about, gathering tools and various other
       things. One such tool was four three foot sections of barbed
       wire, which seemed to be crusted in blood in some places with a
       few spots of rust showing. Dead blue eyes stared down at the
       simpering woman, who was huddled up in a ball.
       With a blank expression, Rafferty went to work.
       #Post#: 315070--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: January 23, 2013, 5:13 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Fear, the kind that seeps from the darkest corners of ones mind;
       the fear of that unknowable darkness that creeps upon the mind
       at the darkest hours of the night. A fear that is unidentifiable
       except when made manifest by ones imagination. This fear is
       crippling in its ways and takes a strong will to overcome but
       when that fear has wrapped rusted barbed wire around ones arms
       and legs, pinning that one to a wall? When that fear is taking a
       bite out of the ones flesh, slowly killing the one? What about
       when that fear takes advantage of the ones body? Even the
       strongest wills break and this ones will was slowly breaking as
       the one sobbed and cried out as the barbed wire cut deep into
       the flesh of her arms and legs. A hand smacked her face, leaving
       it redder. She had another fit of sobs as her face was already a
       huge bruise from the punishing hits from the Redcap that had
       been torturing her all night long. Not even the world's greatest
       therapist could save her from the eternal nightmares she would
       face if she lived, but that was doubtful.
       But, the woman didn't know that Rafferty was slowly betting
       bored with this game, her will was just barely there, nothing
       but gossamer compared to what it had been before, though it had
       still been pretty weak. He rammed her head into the wall,
       disgusted with her sobs and cries and moans of pain. "Pathetic
       creature. You are all worthless when compared to her, false
       imitators." The woman sobbed out a question as to who this 'her'
       was. Rafferty's eyes narrowed and the room went cold with his
       anger, his voice soft but razor sharp and the woman flinched
       away from him. "Shut your mouth, you pathetic sow. You are
       nothing but sheep for the wolves of the darkness." Letting out a
       breath, he started to remove her makeshift shackles. "Leave this
       place. Tell no one what happened or who I am. Or you will die."
       With that said, he left and started to slow walk back to the
       Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern.
       #Post#: 331948--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Insomnia Date: March 29, 2013, 8:32 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Insomnia let go of the dead weight in her arms, staying crouched
       down as she stared at the dead body on the forest floor. She
       hadn't meant to kill this one, he was actually really sweet, but
       she hadn't fed for weeks and he had basically gone along with it
       willingly. She gave a small sigh, standing and running a hand
       through her light brown hair. She looked around, then grabbed
       his leg and hauled him off deeper into the forest, and sprinted
       back to the odd little bar that was located so far out and away
       from the town. She took a quick minute to fix her hair and wipe
       her mouth, to make sure she hadn't made a mess of
       herself-although she knew she hadn't, because she never did. She
       walked into the little bar with her head held high, the boots on
       her feet clicking. She was a beautiful girl, with her long,
       light brown hair, hazel eyes, and flawless skin. But the slight
       paleness to her and the flawless look was mostly due to the fact
       that her old master had turned her out of anger, before kicking
       her out of the house. She sat at the bar and order a water,
       content with her full stomach. she even ignored the slight
       pulling on the the shoulder of her sweater dress by the man next
       the her, just pulling it back up on her arm to stop anything
       inappropriate from showing. Eventually, the man got bored and
       left, leaving her to wait for something interesting to happen.
       #Post#: 331957--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: March 29, 2013, 8:48 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Rafferty had just tied the stained apron around his waist when
       the woman walked in. His blue eyes watched her as she sat down,
       ignoring the paws of the man. His nostrils flared with the scent
       of blood on her breath when she spoke. He merely complied and
       handed her her water. He refilled any glasses along the bar that
       asked for it and went out to bus tables and get more drinks for
       the patrons. As he neared a rather large man, he spoke. "What's
       up, dog-face?"
       The man simply growled.
       "That how it's gonna be, eh? I hope you get rabies." He took up
       the few glasses the man had and went to walk back to the bar.
       He stopped as he felt a hand on his apron, tugging him round.
       "Wait." Came a voice, that was a growl; a hoarse growl, at that.
       Rough. "The girl hasn't spoken, but her life is over with. Why
       did you let her live?"
       The Redcap shrugged, "She bored me and I didn't have it in me to
       kill her."
       The werewolf grunted, "You're getting soft."
       Rafferty hand smacked the table, though the were- didn't flinch;
       he merely grinned. "Don't cause a scene, limp-dick. You'd ruin
       all of your careful work."
       He nodded, and straightened, fixing his clothes. "Indeed. Have a
       nice night." His voice was tight with barely constrained anger,
       but maybe the wolf-man had been right... Maybe he was getting
       soft in his old age. He sighed and went behind the bar, pulling
       out a rag and started to clean out the various glasses he had
       collected.
       Eyeing the woman, he said, "For fear of pointing out the
       obvious, you aren't from around here. Might I ask where? And
       what you are doing here?" His voice was conversational, though
       it hadn't been when he had first started a few months back. It
       had improved greatly. That, and the patrons knew he didn't put
       with shit after about the fifth time he threw someone out. The
       owner of the inn and tavern had not been pleased.
       #Post#: 331980--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Insomnia Date: March 29, 2013, 9:14 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       She had been thinking back on her first night out of her masters
       care-he had been so angry he threw her outside, into the sun.
       Now, the cliche that vampires burned in the sunlight was
       complete bull-believe it or not, that had evolved so that it was
       okay to walk around in sunlight, as long as you weren't out
       there all day. Unless you were newly turned-which she had been,
       meaning that you would most likely only have a minute to get
       away from the sunlight before burning to death, if you were
       lucky.
       Which she obviously was.
       She had felt her skin burning and rolled to the safety of the
       trees, quickly running away, even though he had sent others
       after her, because he had clearly wanted her dead. Lucky for
       her, she was faster, being turned just hours before.
       Unfortunately, she had gone on a mass killing spree that night.
       She was taken out of her thoughts by the sound of the
       bar-tenders hand smacking the table, and she watch, eye brows
       raised with a slight smile. Fighting always amused her, because
       back at her masters, there was so little of it. It was obey, or
       die. And master was so strong, no one had a chance to fight
       back. Limp-dick? What was the point in stating that? It was an
       invalid insult, in her eyes. She hadn't grown up anywhere near
       such insults. Again, she was brought out of her thoughts by the
       bar tender, only this time, he was speaking to her. She hadn't
       even realized the argument was over yet.
       She looked up at him, her hazel meeting his blue, and she gave a
       small, apologetic smile.  "I'm not from anywhere you would know
       of." In all truth, she didn't remember. Master had been sure
       never to tell her-believing there was no reason, and she hadn't
       been paying attention while she was running away. To answer his
       next question, she raised her glass of water. "Is it a crime to
       stop for a drink while traveling?"
       #Post#: 331998--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: March 29, 2013, 9:32 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       He chuckled, "Well, they say the customer is always right." At
       her returned question, he rose his empty hand in an apology, but
       he did lean on his arms as they were placed against the bar
       counter, the rag hanging along his shoulder. "That all depends
       on the reasons for traveling. And the need for a drink." He
       poured himself a glass of of some alcohol or another, though he
       didn't really taste it as he drained the glass, filling it back
       up. He didn't like the taste of alcohol, or the blandness of
       water, as his taste buds ran along more... delicate tastes, as
       it were. Metallic with the same smell. He could feel the blood
       in his veins pumping, in his stomach along with the pieces of
       flesh from the girl.
       He watched the werewolf walk out, the man offering Rafferty the
       middle finger.
       He returned the gesture.
       All in good fun.
       "Well, we offer rooms as well, to the weary traveler. Though,
       you don't seem all that... winded." Or breathing, for that
       matter. Vampires... Luckily, for Rafferty, the fact he worked
       with alcohol and food all day made it harder for the
       supernatural side of the world to smell the blood. But he did
       carry himself with a self-assurance, the confidence, of a
       hunter. The way he smiled... Like he had found prey. His eyes...
       Always looking like a cats did when it found a mouse.
       He was a lean man, with glacial blue eyes and hay-colored hair;
       his attire being a white shirt, collared and buttoned up, with a
       red vest over it; a bracelet made of small bones hung along his
       left wrist, which made clacking noises as the hand moved this
       way and that. His face was made of sharp, angular features, but
       rather handsome in a roguish sort of way.
       The Redcap offered her a smile, "I am Rafferty, the best damned
       bartender around."
       #Post#: 332021--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Insomnia Date: March 29, 2013, 9:54 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       She just shrugged at his statement, looking down at the water,
       and wrinkling her nose at the smell of alcohol. "God, I hate
       that stuff." She stated, staring at the glass. "Not really the
       best place to come with such a sensitive nose, eh?" It smelled
       absolutely dreadful to her, but at least it wasn't beer. She had
       heard that it smelt like barf and tasted worse by some of the
       other sex slaves back at the masters, but it was so much worse
       than they had described with her new senses-still new to her,
       even after a year.
       She gave a big grin and a small laugh as he and the large man
       walking out exchanged middle fingers.
       Her eyes flicked back up to him, and she rested her elbow on the
       counter, chin resting in her palm as she stared up at him. "Such
       nice friends you have." The smile was evident in her voice. She
       looked him over, hearing a pair a few seats down laughing about
       how she was eye-fucking him. Whatever that meant. He was
       attractive, but there was something a bit off about him that
       made the warning bells in her head go off. But she chose to
       ignore it.
       This is the first male you've talked to that you haven't wanted
       to drain. Suck it up. She told herself, giving him a big smile.
       "Well, who knows when I'll next get to sleep in a bed?" All
       alone, without the scent of blood filling the room? "Plus...I'm
       in good company, it seems." She was being flirty, a habit that
       just seemed to come out when talking to men. It was something
       she couldn't seem to turn off-something that had her draining
       females back when she first started. But she hated the taste.
       They were always a bit more...bitter when jealous. And lesbians
       just weren't as easy to convince to be into biting half the
       time.
       She laughed quietly at his introduction of himself. "Its nice to
       meet you, Rafferty. I'm Insomnia, the hottest damn chick
       around." She mocked him, playfully, and smiled to show that she
       was, obviously, joking.
       #Post#: 332046--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Dancing Dog's Inn and Tavern
       By: Demonreach Date: March 29, 2013, 10:18 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       He looked at her with wide-eyes, surprised, then chuckled,
       amused, "Friends? Not really. He and I... We have a mutual
       understanding of how things work. He helps me, I help him. That
       kind of thing." He rubbed at his jaw, obviously musing about the
       thought of him and the wolfman being friends. Maybe... It had
       been a long time. He shook his head, sending the wavy blond hair
       tossing in the air. He had heard the laughter of the other two,
       and eyed with a hard look that quieted them both. They looked
       away with a nervousness that had them fidgeting in their stools
       uneasily as his eyes narrowed at them, glittering dangerously
       before they softened and turned back to look into the hazel
       eyes, offering a soft smile, crinkling the laugh lines at the
       corners of his eyes.
       "Exactly my point! Take the chance now! We have amazing beds!
       The softest, in fact. Granted, we also have firm mattresses as
       well, if you were inclined that way. Nonetheless, we have
       whatever you need. Well... Almost." He added the last as an
       afterthought, frowning with thought before he shrugged. "Well,
       I'm not all that good for company, I'm afraid." But he did enjoy
       the flirting, and would probably pursue this... He sighed,
       knowing he couldn't. Or wouldn't.
       Maybe he had gotten soft.
       Back in the old days, he would've taken this woman and... broke
       her. But the game was boring know... They all broke too easily.
       Besides, when she found out what he was, she would leave. Or try
       to kill him. Or both. A shame, that.
       The bone bracelet clacked as he shifted his arms, chuckling at
       her joke. "Perhaps you jest, but I wouldn't disagree with the
       statement, nonetheless." He gave her a slow wink and went about,
       checking on the patrons, collecting dishes and such. A few
       minutes later, he found himself back behind the bar, cleaning
       the glasses and plates with the rag, rubbing his fingers against
       the stained apron.
       *****************************************************
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