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Karma's Muse	By : xXxDaydreamJunkiexXx Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 5882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own, profit, or pretend to originate True Blood or its characters. All rights belong to Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball.

Chapter List
- 1-Karma's Muse
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 12
- 13
- 14
Streams of warm rays filtered through the small stained glass cross, suction cupped to hang dead center in the office window.
The poking beams sliced the air into multi-colored fragments, gifting its glorious illumination to dance across the oak desk.
It was a well-known fact that light tends to accomplish, what darkness most times affords to conceal. The room was exposed with unforgiving clarity.
Dust particles were blowing lazily on the air currents from the AC register, creating swirling and swaying patterns, which produced some distraction (Thank God) from the load of bullshit being spoon fed with a shovel.
He was desperately trying to focus on the softly crooning words of Loretta Lynn, promising him salvation, from a compact disc player tucked into an empty space of the tall bookshelf behind him. She was singing of the Lord's love, from her Greatest Hymnal Hits collection.
Steve found even that, which usually helped to ease his temper, was barely making the grade. To say he was pissed off was an understatement.
Yet still the craggily faced moron, with his weak watery grey eyes, and crooked nose, droned on and on…Yup, he thought to himself, keep talking asshole.
"So you see Steve-" Gabe nervously fidgeted with a hole in his shirt. "This wasn't my fault."
Oh yeah right! After all the Goddamn money I've given you and your boasts of never failing a mission! He wanted to scream at him, smack him, cut him, and rip out his fucking eyeballs to dangle below his chin.
Instead he took a deep breath and prepared to perform. He would get his monies worth, no matter what…He'd just use him to get the crowning star to his little bonfire soirée, and then he'd stab him in the dick.
Steve was positive the screams and gushing blood from that "wound" would almost guarantee a little entertainment, if not a good nut busting, for Gabe at least.
He internally laughed at his little joke, but schooled a serene expression in place, wanting the jar headed retard to have a false sense of security.
"Please," pausing for just the right dramatic effect, "I know in my heart, as well as the Lord," his eyes rose to the heavens for 1-2-3, "that the demon vampire is responsible."
Wait for it- here it is douche bag.
The most radiant, most full, pearliest white smile that the collection plate could afford; battled the sun itself to shine on the war veteran.
"We'll regroup and learn from this experience."
Gabe nodded in relieved agreement.
"Why as it happens, I received a phone call last night shortly after your little mishap." Steve pushed a bunch of items around his desk, until he found what he was looking for. "It would seem that the bloodsucking Fucker-ahem-pardon my profanity," He played at being bashful before restarting, "the fanger has been kidnapped by his own King, and the poor girl who's been made to be his devoted whore, is almost dead and may already have been…"
Steve gagged a couple times, politely asking Gabe's forgiveness, while spitting out the seemingly offensive word into a Kleenex. "Turned."
"That's just horrible." Gabe said, shaking his head side to side with genuine pity. He hadn't had the chance to fuck her yet.
"I know-I know." Steve sighed the sigh of someone truly burdened, tossing the curiously dry tissue, into the tiny wicker waste basket beside him.
"So hopefully, by the grace of the Almighty, we will be able to at least locate the Devil's slut in time for our celebration." He sighed again, this time for real.
A heavy disappointment settled within him. He wanted it to be that Ancient bastard meeting the sun! It was like settling for a cover band when the real deal cancelled last minute. But he mused, a baby vamp just recently turned, might have the desired effect to bolster his greatness.
He wanted his strength and mightiness well known- it was deserved after all. Send a message out there; that no undead piece of shit was safe from his Holy mission. After all not just anybody, could take possession of one of the oldest vamps mistresses, and set her ablaze. He would have to conference with his PR staff to discuss the best angle to pursue, for this new idea of self-serving exploitation.
"My source tells me we might want to be ready," Steve stood up, straightening his off the rack black suit, "to have a new team organized by tonight." He walked around his desk to be in front of Gabe, who had followed his lead to be standing too. "You'll set up a stake-out…"
The corny joke had both men chuckling for a moment, but Steve was quick to recover and continue. "At the Dallas Memorial Cemetery."
"You've got it Steve!" Gabe vowed enthusiastically. "I won't let you down this time-on my honor as a Marine-I swear it!"
Steve Newlin wished he could outwardly roll his eyes but settled for shaking the incompetent jack asses hand instead.
"May His Light Shine on you Gabe."
He gave blessings and encouraging words, all while pushing him towards the door to get the fuck out of his office.
"I'll keep you updated Mr. Newlin." Gabe said, stepping out into the reception area, using a more formal tone between them in the audience of others.
His plump secretary Thelma smiled at the bulky sociopath as he was leaving, primping her dark brown six dollar haircut and giving a small wave goodbye.
"Norma Jean", she sang out, "Mr. Newlin can see ya now honey."
Now that was welcoming news, he thought anxiously, getting that tingly rush of anticipation. It was perfect.
Steve rushed back to his leather swivel chair, sitting down behind the desk, his pants already feeling tight in the crotch. His balls were full and in need of a little sweet relief.
He watched the young girl try to be sexy as she sashayed into his office. The white Keds sneakers she wore made no sound on the Berber carpet as she came in. She closed the door behind her, making sure to lock it.
He noticed her cadet shorts were one size too small and riding a little high. Her FOTS baby tee was hugging her small pert breasts like a second skin, showing she wore no bra, and promptly displaying two erect nipples.
Steve thought some more lessons from the Continental School of Beauty were needed; as she failed miserably.
It was cute to watch her try though, he cogitated darkly, but what he had in store for her was nothing of the sort. No soft embraces, frilly compliments, or tea parties would be taking place today.
Today it was all about the pain.
Steve opened a drawer and pulled out a big rubber ball gag.
"Oh Norma…" he spoke grimly, "It's come to my attention you've been a very bad girl."
Maniacal laughter rang in his ears as he watched the young tender slip of girl shudder. Her skin had broken out in goose flesh and her eyes were as big as saucers. Oh yes…he was going to enjoy this greatly.
"And we both know what that means don't we?" He stated more than expected an answer.
"Ma-ma-Mister Newlin-" Norma swallowed hard, "I'm not sure exactly what it is I've done wrong."
He ran a hand through his golden brown hair and flashed his trademark smile. The chair squeaked slightly as he leaned back, drawing out the silence before responding.
"That is not the right question Norma."
She fiddled with her fingers and shuffled from one foot to the other.
"W-w-what I-s-s the right question?" She stuttered, becoming more unsettled.
The last "punishment" had left her bleeding for days. It had hurt to go to the bathroom or sit down. She'd told the girls in her dorm she'd taken a tumble down the stairs of the rectory when they'd asked about all the bruises. What was she going to tell them now?
"The proper question would be-" Steve said, placing the gag on the desk for her to see. His smile was gone now and in its place was the tight lipped cruelty of one truly demented. His eyes had gone vacant and cold.
Steve waited until he knew for certain she was consumed with fear.
Had he not went away into "that other place" of his mind, he might have admired Norma for stripping off her clothes submissively and leaning over the front of his desk without being told.
But he was too far gone now.
Slowly walking over to her, he secured the bit in her mouth, making sure it was good and tight. He ran one hand over her back, making his way down, to plunge four fingers into her pussy and his thumb into her ass without warning.
Her sharp whimper barely registered to him. He leaned into her face and bit her earlobe, drawing blood and making big fat tears stream down her cheeks.
He sucked on it a moment, wondering if this was what it was like to be a vamp, before letting the fleshy piece go.
Steve whispered to her in a tsk-tsk fashion, finishing his previously started sentence with contempt.
"…what have you done right?"

Eric had barely slammed on the brakes and put the corvette in park before Godric had ripped off the door to throw it aside and take off running. He bee lined his way through the gates of the cemetery, hoping against hope that the fear he was sensing from his bond with Alana wasn't…
"You'll have to do better than that you Bastards."
He knew it was Isobel speaking even before he came into the clearing where an apparent battle was ensuing. In the course of a human blink he assessed the situation.
Stan was deflecting attacks to Alana's body from Felipe's guardsmen, protecting his love with his own life and hissing. Isobel had impaled one with her fist and had round kicked another in the face, a Were, who was trying to sneak up on her from behind.
Both his lieutenants were in rough shape and wouldn't last much longer unaided. Godric had no doubts about jumping in to help but the screams filling his ears gave him slight pause, they weren't from either Stan or Isobel. They were Alana's.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, she was convulsing in seizures, and her body was glowing.
He was torn between wanting to rush to her side and killing the guards, but the fight won out as he needed no distraction when he did go to her. Stan seemed to be holding his own; it was Isobel who was on the verge of losing.
"Sheriff, behind you." Stan bellowed.
Godric jumped twenty feet in the air and landed with the grace of a cat to face the foolish attacker. He yanked off the arm that had been swinging towards his back, leaving loose tendons and cartilage dangling, while using his other hand to pierce the man's abdomen; pulling out his intestines to unceremoniously plop to the ground at his feet.
It would seem they had more company than just Felipe's lackeys.
Eric landed next to him, haven flown instead of running, and with a wink to his Maker; went to help Isobel.
Godric sensed where the humans were grouped, scattered behind trees and gravestones, and quickly went to work.
He had a bone to pick with these FOTS assholes…and quite a few organs to rip out too.
They were all about to be reunited with the Jesus they claimed to love so much. He would see to it however that the parting of this world would not be a pleasant one.
"For I am Death…" He sang out cruelly to the air.
Godric made swift work and even managed to break off a branch and fling it like a javelin to stake a vamp about to pounce on Stan.
Blood was soaking into the loose dirt, quenching its thirst readily as if there had been a drought. He only saw faceless enemies and knew nothing more than slaughtered destruction.
Eric and Isobel had pretty well exterminated all the Weres.
Snapping another neck with a crunch and biting into the artery of another's leg who was attempting escape; Godric saw someone that made him smile evilly.
It was the older one from the car crash who had gotten away.
Gabe eyes widened briefly at having the Ancient's attention. He was leaning out the back window of a tailgate to a Ford Bronco. Realizing he hadn't much time, he quickly pulled the trigger to a weapon he was holding; only it wasn't pointed at Godric.
The silver net launched into the air to envelope Isobel, whose sizzled flesh started smoking before the contraption started to reel her in like one does a fish whose been hooked. The truck speeded forward, dragging Isobel behind it.
Stan roared in outrage leaving Alana's side to chase after Gabe and try to save her. Eric who had been killing the remaining vamps halted mid swing of his sword.
Godric wanted nothing more to go after them but couldn't leave his love exposed.
"Eric!" He shouted. "Go!"
The gorgeous blonde wiped a blood stained hand on his pants, stuck his sword into the earth with the other, and took flight toward the thicket of forest in which they had disappeared.
In no time at all Godric finished the bloody work of murder and was crouching over Alana, his face softened with loving concern.
"Min Karlek," He stroked her tortured face, the screams still spewing forth from her mouth and her petite body still shaking, "What has happened to you?"
The shiny colors of her skin that were making her glow pulsed like a heartbeat. Godric couldn't be certain where to begin in helping her and did the only thing he could think of. He bit into his wrist and went to give her the dripping appendage, bringing it to her lips gently.
A loud pop sounded off behind him, causing him to swing around.
"Stop, don't do that you idiot, you'll only make her worse."
The midget elfin looking doctor, walked as fast as her little legs could take her over to the two, while shaking her head in disapproval. "Leave it to you vamps to think your blood is the only answer to everything." She huffed, opening up the bag she carried, setting out her many instruments onto a cloth hurriedly.
"Doctor Ludwig?" Godric exclaimed in surprise. "How is it you knew to come here? Did Eric call you?"
She rolled her eyes and yelled to the sky. "You owe me big time for this old friend."
The sky lit up briefly with lightning that was not followed by thunder as would be expected in most cases. But it would seem Ludwig had been answered, for she started muttering about being dragged out of bed, again, to make a "house" call for another undead melodrama.
"Hold her down and stop gaping at me." She snapped with impatience.
Godric recovered, but not before taking note of the grouchy doctor's pink cotton pajamas which were sporting little lambs jumping over fences.
Somehow they seemed too "cute" on her and he couldn't believe she was wearing them, but quickly let the stupid thought go. He gripped Alana's shoulders and put some weight down in order to pin her in place. Godric had no idea where her strength was coming from as she was still able to buck up a few times before he had her secured.
"I don't understand, what's going on?" Godric pleaded to Dr. Ludwig.
She softened only slightly, her hazel eyes flashing what looked like pity for just a second, before brusquely answering him. "I can't tell you that right now. You're just going to have to ask her yourself."
He was becoming pissed off. "How the hell do you suggest I do that?" Godric bitingly swore at her. "She's fucking out of it."
"Not her-" Ludwig motioned to Alana, uncorking a bottle with some glittery liquid inside.
Just then Alana stopped screaming and her eyes flew open.
Godric saw the white milky film over them and with foreboding clarity; he didn't need to be told because suddenly he just knew.
He'd only heard of this happening one time before.
"The Pythoness…" He breathed out with revelation.
Dr. Ludwig barely spared him a glance, pouring out the bottle into Alana's mouth, while forcing up her chin so she would swallow.
"Yeah," she said in a matter of fact way, "ain't life just grand."
- 12
- 13
- 14
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Karma's Muse