Of Gods and Monsters

He That Justifieth The Wicked

"The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed."

-George Gordon Byron

Elek was in his own personal heaven sitting with the other musicians. Ambrus was in front of him, in the crowd seating, and Victor on the stage. (In some capacity, as Elek hadn't been able to distinguish him from the other actors.) He felt like there was no place on this earth he'd rather be. Victor had given him the score and ushered him with the rest of the group into practice. They marveled at his talent, he'd quickly learned the scores, and then the next thing he knew he was sitting ready to perform for an audience for the first time. He was nervous, of course, but more than anything else he was excited. As the lights dimmed, the crowd hushed, and the curtains opened Elek drew his bow.

The play had been marvelous, from what Elek could see of it from below. The ending was certainly spectacular. The climax had been the death of a young woman, by the hands of ravenous demons. Murmurs of the shock and awe had gone through the crowd, and then after the bloody end, they all stood and clapped a round of applause nearly deafening. Elek could do nothing but stand with the rest of the choir, smiling from ear to ear. He looked to Ambrus, who had stood to clap, with a look of pure gratitude. Ambrus merely smiled back.

--

Once the concert was over, nearly all of the mortal spectators had left. (Only a few stopping to send roses or gush over someone's performance.) And finally, Ambrus and Elek were left with only the company of their fellow immortals. Elek could sense the night wasn't completely over yet.

Now that he'd had a taste of what performing was like, he wanted it forever. Nothing was as satisfying as giving life to something with a few strokes of your hands, producing emotions from an audience you only have the power to beckon forth. The utter time-stopping and content feelings assembled from making art into life. There was nothing like it on this earth for Elek, of that he was now sure. Playing alone had been grand oh yes, but playing for an audience? Better still.

Elek was introduced to a myriad of different vampír's, like himself, and couldn't believe the vastness of the number. There were no less than twenty vampires living and operating out of this theatre, and that thought alone, was especially harrowing. How had no one noticed? Would he have noticed? If he'd wandered in here earlier, a mere mortal? Probably not. After the introductions were finished, they passed Elek and Ambrus to what seemed to be their common room, for lack of a better word. They had tables and couches everywhere, full of different actors, lounging about after another successful night. Victor ushered them to a table, sitting down to chat.

"So how did you enjoy your first performance, mon'ami?

"It was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced."

Elek wasn't shy to admit, it truly had been. Ambrus sat beside him, watching their interactions.

"More than the kill, eh?"

Elek blanched, immediately picturing poor Emilia's body, floating down the Danube.

"He doesn't seem to enjoy it like we do, Victor."

Underneath the table, Ambrus had brought a hand to Elek's leg, which had been quaking unbeknownst to him. The gesture calmed him.

"I see. A sentimental vampír? Comme c'est romantique."

Victor said, leaning forward to Elek, his nose very little distance closing them. He could feel the wind coming off of Victor's breathe, hitting him in the face and brushing his eyelashes. Ambrus's grip tightened on Elek's leg to an almost painful degree.

"Enough, Victor."

Ambrus said finally, his cadence sharp and dry, not a hint of humor like it had before. Victor clicked his tongue in annoyance, backing away.

"Protective are we? I wasn't going to eat the poor boy."

Ambrus huffed, still annoyed. Elek just sat, immobilized. Had Victor just come onto him or were his eyes and ears deceiving him? Ambrus reaction to it also made him uncomfortable. He suddenly remembered their long hug and flinched, reaching down and prying Ambrus's hands off his leg with force.

"Perhaps you'd like to come back and play with us again sometime?"

Victor asked, his eyes glinting. Ambrus was miffed about Elek's rejection, but continued on as if nothing had happened at all.

"I'd like that very much."

Elek finally answered, his voice a bit hoarse from the situation.

"Magnifique! I'll be seeing you soon then Elek."

Victor's eyes looked much more sinister then. His tone not matching the hungry look in his eyes.

--

Elek had never considered the possibility that perhaps Ambrus's motives weren't completely devoid of some sort of dubious attraction to him. He'd never considered the possibility that maybe Ambrus had loved him. Not in the way of companionship, which existed between two gentlemen, but in the same way that Elek had known between men and women. What little he did know, that is. Perhaps he'd even loved him long before they'd officially talked. How else could he possibly have known so much about him? Been so interested in helping him? So persistent? The thought wasn't completely repulsive but it was frightening, none the less. To be the object of potential desire of, well--- a demon.

The more he thought about it, in the silence of the night's walk back to their home, the more confused he became. He knew the bible spoke of such things as an abomination, which certainly, were written as plain as day. (Not that he ever really held much stalk in religion to begin with.) Yet, wasn't it true that now he was also an abomination? A creature of the devil, damned to walk the earth for all eternity, unable to die or bask in God's light. Was he still a man then? Like he had been when he was a mortal, or was he some sort of creature? Did vampír's have a true gender? Did it even matter?

He thought back on Emilia. She'd certainly been pretty; she'd held an attraction to him. The longer he thought on it, the more he began to question. Was he attracted to her blood, or her femininity? These thoughts plagued him mercilessly until Ambrus's voice brought him back.

"I apologize if Victor made you uncomfortable, Elek."

Elek spun around, now standing in the lower section of their home. His feet had brought him here without recollection of doing so, operating fully on autopilot, as he'd been so engrossed in thought.

"It's fine."

He said, unsure of what exactly to say back. Ambrus rid himself of his tailcoat jacket, sprawling it across the couch. He came closer now and Elek found himself beginning to feel frightened of him again, like when he'd been mortal.

"Did it make you uncomfortable?"

Elek gulped, backing up just an inch. Ambrus had gotten close, too close, and his mind and heart were racing.

"What are you referring to?"

He asked innocently, trying to remain dumb. It was useless however, Ambrus saw right through him.

"You moved my hand away from you as soon as I chastised Victor, why?"

He asked, his hand reaching for Elek's shoulder, effectively pinning him against the wall.

"I-I don't know. I just, did."

He offered, averting his eyes from Ambrus's gaze. He clicked his tongue in a mocking way.

"No, I don't believe that is the case, Elek. Were you repulsed by Victors affections---"

He started, bringing Elek's chin up to meet his eyes.

"---or mine?"