Fics like monsters, cut off from all the world

Legundo held him fast although he writhed, looking down through those dark lenses. Owen could not see his own reflection in them— vampires did not have reflections. But he saw the red moon, and the black forest, and it looked like eyes. "I find you very fascinating Owen. As I said, I've traveled very far and seen many things, but you're a bit of an oddity. Goldsmith, now there's a dime a dozen. If I had an obol for every noble vampire with a penchant for massacre, why, I'd be a very rich man." Legundo sounded conversational. The bastard was as strong as a granite cliff side— Owen yanked as hard as he could and although Legundo's mouth pursed with effort, there was no breaking loose. Owen was smaller, and weak from hunger besides. "I had hoped to study your sire, Louis," and Owen had to acknowledge the fear now, ice cold in his stomach where the hunger nested with it. "But it seems he is no longer with us. You have my condolences, of course—" "Shut your fucking mouth," Owen snarled, and then screamed in fury when Legundo sighed, and started pressing Owen down to the ground.

Fics like monsters, cut off from all the world

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