By: Addie Logan
couch. Great-uncle Sven� What had happened to Larry's promise of
keeping Sven with him and Heidi? For once, Victor wished his senses
weren't heightened. The smell was bad enough normally on Sven, but
when we was actually sitting there eating sardines� Victor
shuddered. Straight out of the little tin, too.
Sven looked up at Victor. "Would you like one, tiny man?" he asked,
gesturing to the metal container of fish.
"Um, no," Victor replied.
Sven shrugged and went back to his sardines. "You should watch the
television with me. It is quite good."
"What are you watching?" Victor asked, although he was pretty sure
he didn't want to know.
"Little people�fighting�in wet dirt."
"Midget mud wrestling," Victor muttered. "No thanks, Sven. I'll pass
on that one."
"Then you miss a good show, little man."
"LARRY!" Victor yelled, stalking out of the room. "Larry, where the
hell are ya?"
Heidi came in the room. "Larry�not�here," she said. She smiled at
Victor.
Victor growled. "Where'd he go, blondie?"
Heidi looked confused.
"Goddammit�" Victor stalked up to his bedroom, slamming the door
behind him. He felt a small pang of regret when he remembered a
split second too late that Sylvia was still in bed. He figured she
probably needed sleep�
She sat up groggily. "Victor?"
"Yeah, Sylvie. Go back to sleep."
"You all right?"
"Yeah, except my house is full of Heidi's goddamn family." He
roared, slamming his fist into the door. "If Larry hadn't done so
much for me over the years�"
"They'll be gone soon, Vic. Then everything will be the same again."
"I don't like people here that don't belong here. I want my life my
way."
"That's perfectly understandable, Victor. You need to be in control,
and with Heidi's family here, you feel like you've lost that
control, and that bothers you."
"Don't fucking do that!" Victor growled.
Sylvia's eyes grew a little wider in surprised. "Don't�don't do
what."
"Give me that psychobabble shit. This ain't one of your sessions,
doc."
Sylvia tried to mask her hurt at Victor's words with anger. "Well
isn't that why I brought me here, Victor? To analyze you? To make
you all better? Or did you think you could get your daughter back by
fucking my brains out?"
Victor roared, leaping on the bed and grabbing Sylvia by the
shoulders. "Don't you mention her like that, bitch."
Sylvia telekinetically pushed Victor as hard as she could. "Don't
touch me."
Victor pulled himself up, snarling. Sylvia noticed his eyes were no
longer that green she loved so much. They were black, as if they'd
become all pupil. She was afraid, and she wanted away from him. What
had she gotten herself in to?
Victor lunged at her again, pinning her down to the bed. He snarled,
barring his fangs. "You want the animal gone in me, baby? Or do you
like it?"
Sylvia struggled against him. "Victor, please. I'm sorry, okay?"
Victor could smell her fear. He blinked. What was he doing? He let
go of her, sitting beside her on the bed. "Sylvie�"
Sylvia got up from the bed, searching for her clothes. She found
most of them, and started getting dressed.
"Where�where are you going?" Victor asked.
Sylvia glared at him, all the fear gone. "Let me think, you just
attacked me. I'm going back to my room, Victor. I don't want to be
in here right now."
"Sylvie�I didn't�look, I'm under a lot of stress, all right?"
Sylvia pushed her hair out of her face. "Oh, and I'm not? Let's see,
first I get a call that tells me my mother is dying, then I go home
only to be kidnapped, and now I'm being held against my will by a
homicidal maniac. How do you think my week is, Victor?"
"So this is against your will, huh? Last night, when you were layin'
under me, screamin' my name, was that against your will?"
Sylvia glared at him. "Fuck you, Victor."
"You want outta here, Dr. Masters? Then fine. I'll get you out."
Victor grabbed her, carrying her under his arm as she kicked and
cursed. He carried her to the front door, and tossed her out on the
lawn. "There, ya happy?" He slammed the door, locking it.
Sylvia sat on Victor's front lawn, staring at the shut door in
disbelief. Wasn't this the part where she should run, where she
should try to get back to her life before he changed his mind and
came after her? But she couldn't move. She sat there, tears almost
in her eyes, but not.
She wasn't sure how long it was until the door opened again. She
looked up, meeting Victor's eyes. "You�you wanna come back in?" he
asked softly.
Sylvia nodded, getting to her feet. She moved to him, letting him
take her hand and lead her back into the house. The door shut, and
she slumped against his chest, crying in Victor's arms.
*** *** ***
Victor crept out of the room later that night, not wanting to risk
waking Sylvia. He needed to clear his head, and that wouldn't be
possible with her awake. She had some sort of hold on him. When he'd
thrown her out earlier, he'd stood by the door for fifteen minutes,
trying to make himself let her go. She was a threat to him, to what
he was. But he'd opened the door anyway, and when she'd still been
there�
Victor shook his head, stalking down the hall. He went into the
living room and stopped. Sardines� He growled. Sven turned around,
looking at Victor behind the couch. "Tiny man! You not sleep?"
"No," Victor replied, deadpan.
Sven laughed. "I thought new husbands are worn out all the time!"
Victor raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue the point. He wasn't in
the mood. "It ain't that, Sven."
"Have you not learned what pleases the wife? Women are hard to
learn. Took me many months with Helga."
Victor shuddered. That was a place he could've gone his whole life
not going. "Things are fine with Sylvia."
"You just practice, little man. You'll get it hanged."
"You mean get the hang of it?"
"Is that the phrase?"
"Uh, yeah."
"The that then. You want to watch television? It is Jerry Springer.
Better than little people in dirt."
"I was just going to, um, go back upstairs," Victor said.
"Remember, little man, you'll get�the hang of it?"
"Heh. Yeah. See ya, Sven."
"Good bye, little man."
Victor went back to the bedroom, but didn't want to get back in the
bed. Then he'd just have that overwhelming urge to hold her again.
He went out on the balcony, breathing in the night air. He looked
over the back of his estate, his eyes taking in the green shadowed
by the night. He felt the urge to be out there, to be hunting. He
wanted to taste blood again.
Victor buried his head in his hands, trying to make it go away. He
needed to stop�needed to stop for Vicky. He'd made her hate him with
what he'd done, and he'd never feel whole again until he had her
back. She was the only person in his life who'd ever loved him
without question, and he hadn't been able to do the only thing that
she'd ever asked of him.
Victor looked up, roaring angrily into the night. He wanted the
whole world to hear him, to know he was a predator. A second later,
he felt something touch his back, and he turned around, his talons
raised.
He stopped when he saw it was Sylvia. She didn't even flinch, even
though he was sure she knew how easily he could've killed her then.
"The bed's cold, Victor."
"I ain't in the mood to warm it up, Sylvia."
Sylvia blinked. It was the first time he'd used her full first name.
She wasn't sure she liked it� "I just�I just want you beside me,
Victor."
That was the thing about women Victor normally didn't like�their
need to be close in something other than the basest sexual sense. It
started out with cuddling after sex. Soon they'd have you just
sleeping every damn night.
He looked down at Sylvia. She was wrapped in his sheet, the
moonlight hitting her, making her look almost ethereal. Her hair was
a mess, and he clenched his fists, remembering what it was like to
run his fingers through it. He told himself he should fight the urge
to go in with her, but he couldn't. Her pull was too strong, and he
couldn't even bring himself to rebel against it.
He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her back to his bed.
*** *** ***
"Well, it is why I'm here, Victor."
Victor sighed heavily. It had been well over a week, and Heidi's
family was still in his house. It seemed like everywhere he turned,
he smelled sardines. If Larry wasn't the closest thing he had to a
friend� He didn't need Sylvia adding to his stress level by
bringing up the whole "therapy" thing again. She was supposed to be
distracting him with sex and making it lower. "Just bein' with you
is helpin' me, doc."
Sylvia frowned. "Don't give me that, Victor. You brought me here so
I could help you, and yet, you never let me. Why?"
"Maybe I don't need your help so much," Victor snapped.
Sylvia didn't point out the first thought that sprung to her mind�if
he didn't need her help, Victoria would be talking to him. She knew
a defensive Victor Creed was not someone she wanted to taunt. "I
want to help you, Victor," she said, making an active attempt to
keep her voice calm and level. "I think it's possible for you to
control your blood lust, and I think I can help you do that."
Victor's eyes narrowed. "When I first asked you to, doc, you
refused. Why do you care so much now, huh? Especially since I'm
keepin' ya here against your will, an' all."
Sylvia sighed. "Victor, I think it goes without saying that a lot
has changed between us since you, um, first asked me. And secondly,
I don't like to leave a job only half finished. When I started
trying to help you, I made a commitment. I don't plan on backing out
of that now."
"Maybe you've helped me all ya can. Maybe I'm just meant to be a
cold-blooded killer." He looked at her with an expression that
Sylvia couldn't distinguish as a grin or a snarl, but she definitely
caught the glint of his fangs.
"Why are you fighting me on this, Victor?" Sylvia asked. "I want to
help you�I want to help you with Victoria. Please, let me."
Honestly, Victor wasn't quite sure why he was fighting her. Why had
it been easier for him to let her into his mind when he barely knew
her? He frowned when he suddenly realized at least part of the
reason�she was a threat to him now. She could try to hurt him, the
way everyone always did when he let them get close. What made her
any different that Birdy? "I don't want you pokin' around in there
anymore," Victor said.
"You don't trust me."
Victor glared. "Did you read that from my mind?"
"I didn't need to," Sylvia replied. "It's written all over your
face."
"I let you too close."
"That's the point of a therapist, Victor. You let them in so they
can help you. Look, we can start slowly again. I won't even go into
your mind. We can just talk, all right?"
Victor sat down in a chair, watching her as if she were prey. "Fine.
Start talkin'."
"There are some things I've seen in your mind that I've wanted to
discuss with you," Sylvia said, sitting across from him and trying
to force away the nervousness. She didn't want Victor knowing just
how uncomfortable he was making her at the moment. "They seem to be
intertwined with a lot of your�aggression."
"Such as?"
"Who is Logan?"
Victor growled a little. "Sawed off little runt. Next question."
"There has to be more to it than that, Victor. I caught some fairly
negative emotions associated with that name. And something else in
your mind about him�and a daughter?"
Victor got up then, pacing for a moment before looking at Sylvia.
"Logan's someone I've known for a long time, all right? We used to
work together, and we�had a falling out. We've fought a lot over the
years, and I guess we're what some people would call 'mortal
enemies.' I kidnapped his daughter a couple of times, did some
things to her I probably shouldn't have. And that's what finally did
it for Vicky. She's friend's with Logan's kid, and finding out what
I did�it made her finally hate me."
"And he was the man who was engaged to Vicky's mother, wasn't he?"
Victor nodded. "How'd you know about that?"
Sylvia decided not to rat out Larry. "I'm a telepath, Victor. But
tell me, why do you hate Logan?"
"I don't know! I just do, okay?"
"No, that isn't okay. You don't hate people just because. Something
about them has to make enough of an impression on you to inspire an
emotion as strong as hatred."
"He fights it."
"Fights what?"
"The hunger."
Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Victor."
Victor smirked. "And I thought you were an all-knowin' telepath."
Sylvia gave him a dirty look. "I never said I was all-knowing,
Victor. I need you to talk to me. What do you mean by what you just
said?"
"See, this is why I don't like shrinks," Victor said with a sigh.
"Always havin' to analyze everything. Logan and I, we're similar.
Not as similar as most people seem to think, mind you, but we're
similar. We both got this need to hunt, t'kill. Logan, he sees it as
a weakness, always denyin' what he is. That gets me, Sylvie. He's a
killer, same as me, but he always acts like he's better. He's got
this whole 'I'm a man, not an animal' mantra. I've always embraced
what I am, enjoyed it. I like to kill. I like the taste of blood.
Logan does, too, but he won't admit it. He thinks it makes him
better than me, and he's anything but."
"But can't you admit that maybe there's something to be said for
trying not to kill? Don't you want to be able to tame that hunger,
Victor?"
"I don't want to be Logan. He's a little shit."
"I didn't say you wanted to be him," Sylvia replied. "But you
brought me here to help you stop killing. Isn't it possible that
maybe your hatred for Logan comes from a little bit of jealousy? He
can keep it in check, but it's a struggle for you."
Victor's eyes narrowed, and Sylvia could tell he was fighting the
urge to attack her. She wasn't sure if she should consider that a
good sign or not. "I don't struggle. I've chosen to accept what I
am. I don't lose any sleep at night for what I've done."
"There's no point in saying that to me, Victor. I know you're lying,
and that isn't getting us anywhere. Can you honestly look me in the
eye and tell me that you don't ever wish that you could have a
little bit of whatever it is that keeps Logan from always killing?"
"I don't want to be like him," Victor snarled. "He's weak. He lets
it eat him up inside, constantly goin' on some angst trip. I'm more
grounded that the runt will ever be. I don't hide from what I am."
"Maybe not the way he does, Victor, but you don't accept who you are
either. You're constantly at war with yourself. You say you want to
stop killing, but at the same time, you don't want to deal with the
hardship it would be to control those urges. Keeping who you are
while at the same time stopping the need to kill would be a
struggle, and you're not willing to make it. No matter what�or
who�it costs you."
Victor didn't miss the implication there. "I'd do anything for my
daughter."
"Then do it."
The anger was written all over Victor's face. "Fuck you, frail," he
snarled before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. He
stormed down the hall. He didn't need her telling him what he was,
what he needed to do. Why did he ever think getting a psychiatrist
would be a good idea? All that woman was doing was causing more
problems in his life.
Victor went down towards the kitchen. He needed a drink. Maybe
several. Perhaps he should send Larry to buy out a liquor store and
see if he could out-drink that goddamn healing factor of his. He
stopped a few feet before the kitchen. Voices�Swedish ones�and the
smell of sardines. Those damn people were still in his house. He
turned around, going towards his study instead. The last thing he
needed was the blood of Heidi's family splattered around his
kitchen.
Victor opened the liquor cabinet in his study, grabbed the first
thing he saw, and didn't even bother with a glass. He drank it
quickly, but it wasn't enough. He needed something entirely
different to quench his thirst. The light on his private answering
machine was blinking. A message�most likely a job offer. He'd been
deleting them recently, but this time, he figured he'd give it a
listen. He wanted blood, and fuck them all for not wanting him to
have it. Especially fuck Sylvia for trying to tell him what he
wanted in life. He should've known better than to let a woman in.
They were all trouble, and not a one of them worth more than a
night. Sometimes not even that much.
He listened to the message. It would be an easy job, just one kill.
He could do it quickly, and it would be enough to tide him over, at
least for a little while. The pay wasn't anywhere near his normal
amount, but he didn't care. He just wanted to kill. Might as well be
someone already marked for death than the next person that strayed
too close to his lawn.
Victor grinned, his fangs glinting in the mid-afternoon sun. He'd
kill again that night, and for at least a little while, the hunger
would be gone.
Maybe then he'd know what to do with all those people in his house
that didn't belong�
*** *** ***
He'd begged. They always begged. "Please don't kill me," as if he
could somehow spare them. If Sabretooth was there, someone had
already decided to make the current victim a dead man anyway. Victor
walking away wasn't going to keep anyone from dying�it was just
going to prolong it for a while.
He hadn't let this one beg long. Usually he did, just for the fun of
it. It was amazing what you could get someone to do when they
thought it might save them their lives. But he hadn't felt like
playing. He'd just struck, killing him with his own hands.
Sabretooth knelt in the blood, taking in the scent, the feel, the
taste. He was a killer�bloodlust made him who he was. Damn Sylvia
Masters if she thought she could stop him. She'd never know who he
was, never know what really made him tick.
Victor held his latest victim's head in his hands, knowing it would
be all he needed to prove he'd done his job. Larry could take care
of the rest. He grabbed the body and walked out, ready to collect
his pay and get back home.
He wondered if Sylvia had stuck around. Nothing could make a kill
even better quite the way a good hard fuck did.
*** *** ***
Larry was easy enough to find when he got home. Just follow the
scent of sardines, and the whole lot of them would be close enough.
"There's some garbage in the trunk of the car in the back," he said,
ignoring the looks of horror on the faces of Heidi's family. What,
had they never seen a man covered in blood before? "Go take it out."
"What�what kind of garbage, Mr. Creed?" Larry asked.
"The kind I pay you to deal with!" Victor snapped. "Go do it before
I really lose my temper."
Larry got to his feet and hurried out. Victor ignored the glare
Heidi gave him. That little bitch should've just be glad she was
Larry's girl� He headed upstairs, figuring he'd take a nice, long
bath before he hunted Sylvia down. Knowing her, she'd gone somewhere
to sulk, still mad at him for earlier. Victor grinned. He'd enjoy
making up with her.
He didn't expect to find her standing in front of his door, as if
she were waiting for him. Her eyes grew wide as she made a little
gasp of horror at his appearance. "So�so it's true. You did kill
someone tonight."
"How the hell did you know?"
"I felt you come home," Sylvia said. "I thought that I�I couldn't
believe it�I had to see for myself."
"Well you've seen it," Victor snapped. "You haven't done me a damn
bit of good. I'm still a heartless murderer. You happy now?"
"No," Sylvia said, the tears glittering in her eyes. "I'm anything
but happy, Victor." She started to move, to walk away, but Victor
grabbed her, pinning her up against the wall.
"I don't want you to leave tonight, frail. I want you." He pushed
himself against her, making his intentions obvious.
Sylvia pushed him away. "I don't want that. I don't ever want
that�not with you. I thought there was something else to you, Victor
Creed, something that was worth fighting for. But you're nothing.
All you are is bloodlust, and you disgust me. If I was Victoria, I'd
get as far away from you as I could. All you could possibly do to
that girl is hurt her."
Victor snarled, slapping her hard. Sylvia just pulled herself back
to her feet. She wasn't going to do this with him, not again. "If
you want a fuck, go find someone else, you bastard. I'm through.
Either let me go, or kill me. I don't really care which right now,
as long as it gets me the hell away from you."
Victor blinked, her words taking him aback. He stepped aside, and
Sylvia walked away.
He watched her go, and for the first time in his life, he truly
wished he could take something back.
