#and him turned into a blinded Sabbat blood doll if they don't skedaddle out of LA

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Londerland Bloodlines -- Prophetic Nightmare, Take 2!

Hey everyone -- remember the fic snippet Prophetic Nightmare from my Londerland Bloodlines AU? I do because I was looking at it recently, thanks to being back into said AU because of the recent sequel announcement. And while I was looking at it, I thought, “I really ought to edit this now that I’ve changed the AU around so Bonejangles, aka Sam Thatcher, is part of the group after the Giovannni raid.”

So I did! What’s the point of being a writer if you can’t improve your old fics? So today I present to you the updated version of “Prophetic Nightmare,” where Victor has a pretty intense dream about the possible fate of his World of Darkness family. As per the first version of the fic, I’m going to warn for blood, gore, dismemberment, and eye trauma. I’m not lying when I say it’s fairly intense -- there is a LOT of horror in the beginning. Fortunately, it also keeps the trip to Victor’s happy place at the end if you need a breather after all the gore. Hope you like this new, “canon-compliant” version of the fic!

"I'm home, everyone! Who wants – hello?"

Victor shifted his grocery bags, peering between them into the apartment. To his surprise, the living room was empty, as was the attached kitchen. "Emily? Lizzie? Sam? Wasn't there anything good on TV?"

No response. Victor frowned. It wasn't like them to just vanish like this. . .had they gone out for some reason after he'd left? But he couldn't see a note anywhere. . .he glanced up toward the loft. "Alice? Are you up?"

Silence. Now thoroughly puzzled, he set the bags on the counter bar, then headed upstairs. The bedroom door was closed, and the little office nook was empty. Victor bent over the computer and wiggled the mouse. The screen came to life, showing the six of them lined up on the couch – Lizzie and Sam each perched atop an arm, and him, Emily, Victoria, and Alice crammed into the middle. He grinned as he took in Emily's enthusiastic wave to the camera, Victoria's shy, almost embarrassed smile, and Alice's sparkling eyes as she hooked her arm around his shoulders. Just knowing a single one of these lovely ladies was a privilege. And here he was, the boyfriend of all three. With an honorary older sister and brother in the bargain. And to think I once thought moving here was a mistake. I really am the luckiest man in the world.

Unfortunately, he couldn't just stand here and stare at his favorite ladies all night – he had a mystery to solve. He opened up the "LaCroix Foundation Secure Intranet" application. "15 e-mails – 3 unread" appeared under the title bar, in all their DOS-y green glory. So Alice, at least, had to be here – she never left the haven without reading her e-mails. Perhaps she hadn't yet risen? But the sun had been sinking below the horizon when he'd arrived back. . .surely she'd be up by now, driven to seek out her first drink of the night? Frowning, Victor put the computer back to sleep and went over to the bedroom door. "Alice?" he called, knocking. "Everything all right?"

Still nothing. Victor opened the door, now thoroughly concerned. "Alice?" he repeated, flicking on the light switch. "Al – ALICE!"

His hand clamped itself over his mouth, holding in a surge of horrified bile. The bedroom was painted in blood and gore, red dripping off the walls and body parts flung carelessly every which way. A leg, dangling over the edge of the bed. A hand, saluting him from the top of the dresser. An arm, lying right at his feet. . .and, sitting on the pillow, a very familiar head, watching him as he struggled to keep down his lunch. No. . .no no nonono –

Dark sister, not dark mistress!

Victor blinked, then forced himself to step over the arm for a closer look at the head. It gaped up at him, an expression of agonized horror on its beautiful features. But – the hair was a different shade of brown, with a fringe of bangs falling across the forehead. The lips were a trifle fuller than the ones he was used to kissing, the nose turned up slightly more. And the eyes were a clear blue instead of a bright green, the sky on a summer's day instead of the grass. The voice was right – not his dearest beloved. Yet someone almost as bad. "Oh no. . .Lizzie. . ."

Tears welled up in his eyes as his fingers traced the contours of her cheek. "Oh Lizzie. . .who did this to you?" he whispered. "I thought. . .didn't we get rid of all the local Giovanni? Who else would – would want this?" He sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. . .oh, Sam's going to be heartbroken. . .and Alice too. . ."

If they're still alive.

Victor's blood went icy. The whole apartment was silent as a tomb. And just because it wasn't Alice here didn't mean – he tore open the door to the master bathroom, hoping against hope there wasn't a similar scene inside.

There was – but again, it wasn't Alice's face that greeted him. Instead, Emily's broken and bloody visage stared up at him from under the toilet, the rest of her body scattered across the floor. Looking into those dulled blue eyes, seeing them stare sightlessly back at him – dead in a way she'd never been, even during her time in the Underworld – it was more than he could bear. He dropped to his knees, one hand tangled in her freshly-dyed locks, the other gathering up one of her discarded arms – the left, the one he'd first seen as a skeletal "branch" back in Burtonsville, the one that had accepted his ring and his hand and pulled him into this mad, wonderful world beyond human understanding – and cradling it to his chest, weeping openly. "No. . .no. . .Emily. . ."

SLAM!

Victor jumped, head whipping around toward the noise. What – was that the front door? Did I leave it open? I don't think I did. . .and I don't think it would close on its own either. Oh God, is Victoria here? No, I can't let her see this. . . Carefully setting Emily's abused parts on the floor, he hurried out onto the balcony. "Vi – VICTORIA!"

It was indeed Victoria downstairs – or, rather, what was left of her. His living love was lying on the floor of the apartment, skin even paler than his, throat torn open almost to her spine. Victor stumbled his way to the stairs –

And promptly tripped over Sam, flopped across the steps like a rag doll. His legs stuck out at odd angles, and the back of his head was caved in. One arm reached toward Victor in a pathetic postmortem plea for help. Victor turned away, pressing a hand against his heaving stomach. All gone. . .all of them, gone. . .he forced himself past Sam's still corpse, to where Victoria lay. Her bright blue eyes stared past him, full of fossilized terror. He collapsed next to her, sobbing. Why? he mentally screamed. Why? We made it past the Giovanni! We hid ourselves from the Prince! We were happy! We were – we – I – I had so little time with them. . .

Dark mistress still lives, the voice in his head whispered, tone urgent. You must find dark mistress!

Victor lifted his head, touching his chest. Yes. . .Alice still lived. He could still feel her in his veins – weak, faded, but – there. Not broken, not gone. He still wasn't entirely alone. Not yet. But where was she? There was no way she was responsible for this chaos, and no way she would have let it come to pass if she'd been at home. . .he scrambled upright, flinging himself at the front door and throwing it open so hard he broke it off its hinges.

An alleyway stretched out before him, longer than any he'd ever seen. He blinked, then groaned. Oh no. . .not now! he scolded the voice in his head. I thought I'd lucked out just hearing you!

Not me, the voice replied, sounding distinctly confused. Not my luck.

Victor blinked again, staring at the impossible concrete below him. What? But – but if it's not you, then why –

Dark mistress! the voice cried, and Victor snapped his head up to see a figure dressed in blue, long dark hair streaming out behind her, running down the other end of the alley. In pursuit of whoever had inflicted such carnage on those they loved? Fleeing same? Victor didn't know and didn't care. All that mattered was that she was there, she was alive –

and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. He took off down the street, sorrow and confusion subsumed under a gush of rage. You took my loves, he hissed mentally at the invisible culprit behind the slaughter. You took my family. You took almost everything I had that made life worth living here. But you will not get her. You will not get the one I have left. I am going to find you, and I'm going to tear your heart out and feast on your sweet blood. I'm going to commit as close to diablerie as a human can! I am going to hunt you down and suck you – "Ooof!"

Something leapt on him from behind, dragging him to the pavement like a wolf taking down a deer. Victor fought against its grip, arms and legs flying, but its strength was ten times his, and it easily pinned him to the concrete. "Let me go!" he screamed, reaching toward the far-away figure of his beloved. "Alice! Alice!!"

But she was already gone, almost as if she'd never been. Moments later, so was the light. Panic gnawed at Victor's mind as the alley plunged into deep shadow, leaving naught but the vague suggestion of walls and floor. No. . .please no. . .I-I don't like the dark. . .

Claws caressed his face, a painful parody of Alice's hand against his cheek. "What a yummy little bloodbag," a voice rasped in his ear. "We might keep you a while." Fangs raked his neck, leaving stinging welts in their wake. Victor elbowed the creature, but it didn't even notice. "Let's make you a proper drink, why don't we?"

Victor had exactly one second to wonder what the hell that meant. Then suddenly his eyes were on fire as the claws dug into them, and the darkness deepened to an endless impenetrable void, and there was wetness on his cheeks but it wasn't tears and he couldn't see he couldn't see he couldn't see no no no no no no – "NOOOOOOO!"

He jerked bolt upright, eyes flying open – and thank God, they were there to open, he could see the little lamp glowing in the corner of Alice's bedroom, but his sockets still hurt his neck still hurt everything still hurt and he was afraid to move, afraid that if he got up and switched on the light he'd find himself staring at another disembodied head and no no no he couldn't go through that again once was enough –

"Victor?"

A hand touched his knee, and he looked down. Alice was peering up muzzily beside him, her expression sluggishly concerned. "What–"

"Victor!"

The door banged open, leaving him and Alice blinking as the light beyond intruded on their darkness. Moments later, it was shrouded again as Emily, Lizzie, Sam, and Victoria crowded the threshold, each trying to be the first get inside. "We heard a scream – what happened?" Emily asked, finally making it to the front.

"Are you both all right?" Victoria added, twisting her hands together.

"I think you woke the whole building with that cry," Lizzie said, glancing behind her.

"Yeah – Jesus, Victor, didn't know you could reach those high notes!" Sam agreed, scratching under his hat. "Seriously, you okay?"

Victor opened and closed his mouth, unable to do much more than stare. They were here. Everyone was here. Everyone was here, and whole, and alive, and – and – and –

The tears were pouring down his face before he even realized he was crying. He curled up on himself, pressing his face into his knees as he sobbed. He couldn't help it. He was so, so glad to see them all okay. . .but the images of Emily and Lizzie's torn-apart bodies, Sam's mutilated corpse, Victoria's violated throat, Alice's back vanishing into the black danced before his mind's eye, tormenting him with the possibility that it could all still be true. . .can't let it happen can't let it happen I can't lose them can't lose them. . . .

A cool arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's all right," Alice said, voice still a little foggy. "It's all right. We're all here. You just had a nightmare, okay? You're all right."

"Please don't cry, Victor," Emily added, settling down beside him with a squeak of the bedsprings. The others crowded around them, hands rubbing his back or stroking his hair or just laying comfortingly on his arm or leg. "Everything's okay. It was just a dream."

Just a dream. . .he managed a nod, sniffling and gulping down air. He knew that. Knew that the hell he'd just gone through was blessedly unreal. But the biting, gaping sorrow of seeing his friends – his family, his loves – torn apart before him, and the sheer, unadulterated terror of the monster in the dark clawing at his face held him tight, refusing to let him wiggle free. Just a dream, he told himself. Just a dream. . .but God, it felt so real. . .

"Victor." Suddenly Alice's voice was all command. "Look at me a moment."

Victor raised his head. His vision was cloudy with tears, but Alice's green gaze pierced him straight through, holding him still. "Is it all right if I – make you calm down a bit?"

Victor's brow furrowed. Make him. . .then he remembered Santa Monica, pain forgotten in a rush of sweet elixir, and an examination cubicle transforming into his childhood bedroom. "L-like in the clinic?" She nodded. "Y-yes, please." Anything to stop this agony.

Her hand cradled the back of his head. "You're in a safe place, Victor," she said, voice echoing across his skull and blocking out all other sound. "A place where you feel completely comfortable. A place that makes you happy, makes you calm. A place where nothing can hurt you. You're safe there, Victor. You can relax."

The world flashed purple – and just like that, the walls around him were gone, replaced by trees. Victor wiped his eyes and looked around. The six of them were now sitting on a mossy log in the middle of a forest, pines and oaks and birches stretching up to a bright blue sky. Beneath their feet was a layer of needles and old leaves, interspersed here and there with patches of stubby grass and little clumps of bluebells, growing in the dappled light that reached the ground. A stream gurgled away happily nearby, winding its way through the wood, and a robin sang a cheery song on some high branch. Victor sighed deeply, shoulders slumping as as the tension drained out of him. Yes. . .he was safe here. This place, this world – this was all his own. Not even the horrors of his own dreaming mind could reach him while he sat on this log. Especially not while surrounded by the people he loved. He cuddled into Alice, smiling. "Thanks."

She stroked his hair, smiling back. "My pleasure."

Sam looked between them with a puzzled frown. "Okay, guessin' that was one of your party tricks, Alice. . ."

"Is this the same power you used to make Augustus see centipedes all over him?" Victoria asked.

"Yes, though obviously Victor got something rather nicer," Alice said with a tiny smirk. "What are you seeing? I'm not actually privy to what's going on in your head when I use this."

"A forest," Victor told her. "Kind of like the one near Burtonsville, but less – gray." He glanced up at the sky. "It's daytime, but don't worry, we're sitting in the shade."

Alice snorted. "Good. I think me bursting into flames would be against the purpose of this little mental trip."

#londerland bloodlines #fanfic #tw: gore #tw: violence #tw: death #tw: eye trauma #okay I kinda put Victor through the wringer with this one #probably was a less horrific way for him to be warned in a dream that he and his loved ones are in danger #for those confused about what's going on: Alice is a Malkavian #and one of their clan hats is insight and occasional prophetic flashes through the madness #Victor as Alice's ghoul shares in some of this #he hears a voice that whispers advice sometimes #and occasionally has dreams like these warning him of stuff #in this case that his loved ones are likely to be killed #and him turned into a blinded Sabbat blood doll if they don't skedaddle out of LA #not a very effective way to pass the message as Victor's too shaken up to properly understand #but once he tells Alice the contents of his dream SHE'LL get it so #felt good to give this another polish #part of me wants to do all the Londerland Bloodlines stuff now as you might expect #I shall endeavor to focus on Secundus 2 #but stuff from this might become a regular Saturday fic thing for me #(since that's my break day from my usual project) #queued