A Vampire's Lullaby [moicy]

A Vampire's Lullaby Part 3

Hi everyone - C.A here with part three and I think it's time this story is explained a bit more in detail ! So this chapter will most likely be the longest of the series but I promise each and every word you read will be worth it! So please stay with me as I explain in this stupidly long chapter to the Tale of the Vampire's Lullaby

Timeline/Location: Prefall - 6 weeks till the Fall of Overwatch

Trigger Warning: Gay, all the gayness my homophobic friends. Also this may not be your ship, so trigger warning for that. insert reaper shrug emote here Bite me. Also, cursing.

Word Count: 2,216

Time Taken: 4 hours total.  

Moira's eyes were too focused on the amount of the rather dark, and clearly unknown liquid hat was quickly filling the syringe that she was carefully holding. She wasn't exactly paying attention to the very obvious death stare the man that sat behind her was drilling into the back of her head. No, instead her face was like a canvas that her lips painted a smile on and she giggled darkly at the figure. It was quiet obvious he was pissed at her, and she wasn't exactly oblivious as to why. "Are you going to keep staring at me like that Gabe, darling?" Her voice chuckled out as she turned, her hand pushing at the veins in her arm before she slowly pushed the needle through his flesh.

Gabriel cringed at the sudden fire that he felt push it's way through her veins. It sent a rather, deep groan spilling from his lips before his dark eyes cut to the woman's. There was a clear burning hatred for her inside of them as he spoke, his tone raspy and seeing beyond parched. "You are not exactly keeping to your end of the deal, Moira O'Deorian." He watched her rather smug smirk quickly vanish as she pushed the already deep needle, further into his flesh – more than what it was actually suppose to go.

"What do you mean? Are you upset that my results are conclusive yet – not working fast enough for you dear Reyes?" She almost grumbled her words, already knowing what he was referring to yet she simply did not wish to get into the topic yet again.

"Don't give me that bullshit Moira – you know what I am talking about. Don't fucking toy with me!" He began to growl his words, his throat was beyond on fire and the fact she – or what he honestly felt like was- ejected lava directly into his blood. As if on que, his body began to tremble as if he was starting to freeze to death. Her hand gripped the mans shoulder, which caused him to glare back - hi snow blood shot eyes gave her a look that was a very very clear sign for her to fuck off. As usual, the thick and black and purple smoke began to erupt from his body – giving way to the monster beneath that was laying dormant.

Moira let out an annoyed huff, her hand retreating and crossing with it's twin across her chest. What had she done wrong this time. And why did it keep happening no matter what she would change. The formula. The variables. Even the very base of it was changed yet the same damn result kept being presented. "You mean my self experiments success and the one on you fail?"

"That's exactly what the fuck I mean --" his voice turned dark, raspy and almost metallic. "Are you really trying to test my patience Moira. I didn't turn you to have you --" Moira had quickly cut the man off. Already having a very simple explanation to his little statement.

"That may be the problem – I was turned. You were not, you were born already with these basic genetic make-ups as I was given them. And without you actually willing to sit down and--"This time Gabe cut her words off, almost in a hungry roar.

"I can't afford such a thing! You can – you better figure out what is going on and erase it. Something isn't right. AND you experiments aren't helping. It's worsening what is happening." His left hand gripped at the arm of the chair, the loud cracks of the metal bending and reshaping could be heard before his right reached for her. Before he managed to get a good hold of her, she vanished – appearing a few feet away. Her arms uncrossing as she readied, what could only be seen as, a defensive possession.