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Blood Bonds	By : FireCracker Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 8881 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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submission dated 6-25-05
author: FireCracker
(Italic copy bordered by_underscore_)
Archive? You'd better.
Warnings: This is an Elseworlds Vampire Fic

Pairings: None yet.

An introspective.

Blood Bonds (Prologue)
Hello. I'm known as Bruce Wayne. Billionare, philanthropist, and all around playboy. I also happen to be a vampire. Oh, I know what you're thinking. How could I possibly maintain such a lifestyle and be one of the undead? It's quite easy, actually. I could be classified as _vampirii superior._ Daylight doesn't hinder me. My appearance mimicks a mortal, provided I am well fed. Regular vampires are quite envious of my clan, for obvious reasons. How is this, you say? Truthfully, I'm not sure. I was born November 13, 1886. My mother was a beautiful vampiress, tall with chestnut hair down her back. She was a courtesan of the american parliament party during its formation. Her ancestry held the ancient blood, powerful blood. Letia, (the goddess) she was known as, and highly respected among the various covens. However, treacherous mortals managed to destroy her when I was very young. There are still things all vampires are vulnerable to. Strong she was, but not _superior_ like myself. She perished in a crypt fire when I was ten. The pain of her loss was nearly unbearable. Her dying mind reached out to me, singing pride and love. Telling me to survive above all else, and honor my heritage. Much later I exacted my revenge. The bones of my enemies decorate my hidden caverns to this day. I was lost, and too young to be alone. I drifted over the next few decades, forming friendships and alliances with various vampires around the world. I was determined to not only be born superior, but made superior. Every deadly art and defense I learned ruthlessly. More importantly, I had the capacity to do so. Both mortal and immortal taught me. But once I had learned all there was to know, I drifted again. Building a fortune through various...adventures, not all legal. Deferring money into legitimate buisness interests to make my empire grow. And it did. I was the envy of my kind. Well known now and famous as 'Bruce Wayne, billionare' my wealth has afforded me all kinds of forged history and background. The age and appearance issue is no problem. Humans believe what I wish them to, due to my hypnotic powers. Then one fateful night Alfred entered my life. To my utter amazement, he appeared in my mansion one evening without warning. I threatened to destroy him, since no vampire intrudes on my privacy uninvited. I made a grand display of snarls and roars. Lightning crackled outside at my rage. And he laughed at me. Stunned, I paused. How was he able to breach my silent spells about the mansion preventing such intrusion? I observed him. A handsome vampire, in a cosmopolitan way. Solidly built without being thick or massive. Straight shoulders. His bearing was almost aristocratic, blue eyes sharp as razors. Sharp as mine. A thin moustache decorated the stern mouth. He felt my mental probing for the truth, and smiled again. His shields slammed into place. Enraged, I moved to strike with inhuman speed. I wanted to claw his face open for mocking me. His smile disappeared. As my fist raised, he caught it in a viselike grip. I couldn't move. With one hand he forced me to my knees. In astonishment, I glared in defiance. How was this possible? Unless... Fangs fully exposed now, he smiled at me once more. Hard. Those blue eyes shifted, turning volcanic red then nearly black. I looked into those pits, seeing the truth. He was old, impossibly old... "You would strike me, childe?" I couldn't speak. No vampire had ever been my match, and all feared me. I was bigger, bulkier, physically stronger. I knew it! But he held me aside like a boy. A vampire grows stronger with age, his powers more absolute. The blood distills, darkens and crystallizes. As if sensing my train of thought, Alfred released me almost gently. His eyes shifted to blue once more. A sharp nail punctured his wrist. Blood, thick and virtually black oozed from the wound. He ordered me to drink. I did. Images, too many assaulted my mind. Humans, vampires. Places I had been, places I did not know. Jungles, deserts. Mountains. Cities and towns. Strange languages, lost civilizations. Cultures and dynasties not of this time. His blood was so sweet and pure, like deep wine. I suckled like a newborn babe, eager and starved for more. He finally pushed me away, amused. I was angry with myself now, for losing control and showing weakness. Alfred soothed my hair, his voice gentle. He explained how he'd watched me grow over the years, guiding without my awareness. Other vampires were sworn to aid me in my quest for knowledge. Many potential enemies never reached me. But why? He smiled again, and told me his true name. No mortal can pronounce it properly. De"cilicu~s. Roughly translated, it means 'dark one from the pit.' Other names he told me, some ridiculous, some strange. Others fantastic. He was even worshipped by tribal peoples across the ages as a god, his appearance matching their belief system. Imitating shape and form is childs' play, for any vampire. To this day, I have no idea how old he really is. He stroked my face then, impressed and proud. An image of my mother flashed across my mind again. Her clothing was different than I remembered, medieval. But I recognized her nonetheless. At her side was Alfred, with a full head of hair. They appeared to be in a dank cave, huddled with other vampires. He later explained to me that poisoned blood caused his hair loss. A shame too, he was dashingly handsome with it. So he knew my mother, long before my birth. What else did he know? Who sired me? It was an unecessary riddle that he enjoyed teasing me with. Vampires always sense their source, and I was no different. More questions filled my mind. Alfred is a true _superior_ also. He once told me I was the spitting image of his sister, Aziza, who fled this dimension once mystic spells cast by witches bound her to their service. Alfred swears to break these spells one day. I knew nothing of this, it occurred nearly ten thousand years ago when demons and vampires alike walked the earth. The forces of darkness held sway in a manner not seen until modern times. My aunt is a beautiful (and quite luscious) vampiress who contacts us through dreams. She is _very_ powerful, and I look forward to meeting her eventually. And yes, I do look like her. After our initial confrontation I invited Alfred to my bed. We shared blood and secrets until it was as if I'd been raised by him all along. Mental bonds are such an advantage for our kind. They go beyond time and space. And I am a good son. I rule my clan, but Alfred is the patriarch. We all defer at times to his knowledge and wisdom. His intellect is astounding. Did I mention my own sons? I have three, two by the same vampiress. The other...well...that was a weakness. Dick is the oldest. Then Jason, then Tim. All favor me in some fashion. Jason is ruthless, and has my intensity. Tim is the intellectual one, but still very young. Dick is cunning and clever, dangerous when crossed. Jesana was a mad love for me, bearing both Dick and Tim. She was not particularly powerful however, and was ambushed by cultists in her death sleep (she could not walk the day). Her end wasn't pretty. The boys avenged their mother well. The cultists were all found with their throats ripped. I take pride in their nasty streak, which they get from me. Jasons' mother was a mistake. Brey was a common vampire who comforted me when Jesana and I had briefly separated. Brey hid Jason from me when we parted. My son! It was her own form of revenge. I burned her mind for it, making her a vegetable. She committed suicide by walking into a brush fire at Gotham Municipal park. Investigators still question their findings. Brey was mad, always aspiring beyond her station. The witch actually thought to rule all vampires at my side. She never replaced Jesana in my heart or bed. I have such lousy luck with women. I had to tell Jason, of course. It was his right to know. His response was predictable, and we fought. The end result was also predictable. I subdued him and made love to him for three days. He adores me madly ever since. I'm a good father, don't you think? Mortals think we're psychotic, sick creatures. Humans fail to understand blood is everything to a vampire. Family and communication, love and lust. Not to mention the nectar of our existence. We can subsist on animal blood, but it is bitter and has little nourishment. Those who feed in such a manner often suffer numerous deficiences, such as weakness and mortal aging. These effects are temporary. With proper feeding, even dessicated vampires can be restored to health. Fire will destroy a young or weaker vampire. Only those with great age or strength can withstand flame (but not without damage). We have large bat forms, humanoid. Useful for transport, stealth and inspiring fear. Mist is another option for various uses. Storm making ability comes from experience and inborn power. This one ability is a great equalizer for younger vampires. We can eat regular food, but it merely dissolves in our bodies. No nourishment is gained from it. There is a tenuous truce between vampires and humans in Gotham. It is a perfect city for our kind. Dark, gothic, and full of criminal evil. One could get quite fat, were it possible. The agreement with local authorities is this...don't ask, don't tell. Criminal deaths and disappearances are seen as being good for the city. Regular citizens know what we are, but try to ignore our existence. Meanwhile the law tips around in our wake, fearful yet grateful. They stay out of our buisness, we ignore theirs. And there is the problem of coven factions and other families.
Most of them are merely a nuisance. But one family is our rival for blood and power in Gotham. The Monsantos. Their matriarch is also _superior_ and rules her clan with an iron hand. She has twins, a daughter and son. A sister and uncle also reside with them. They own considerable wealth from real estate, oil and stocks. The reputation of my blood has so far repelled any open attacks. But one day there will be war. Actually, I relish the idea. But I have more immediate concerns. There is much excitement at the manor these days. My youngest, Tim is about to go on his first hunt. His brothers tease him about his milk teeth. They will grow out in another year, developing into full fangs. I forgot to explain something. We grow to adulthood much like mortals, then aging ceases at prime. Young vampires are provided with blood by their family members. Their inexperience is a liability during childhood, risking exposure and possibly destruction. Tim is old enough now at sixteen. He shows me his barely sharp fangs, so proud. As usual he is hungry, a bottomless pit. And blood from the hunt tastes sweetest, feeding our dark cravings. It is our nature, our way. Alfred appears in the living room and insists on quiet. He likes to meditate and contact others in the world 'psychic net'. Dick taunts him about 'old people' liking their television. Jason wants to hurry back and see his reality shows. Tim screams that he wants to bite everyone. My family can be quite silly. We will feed, then return home and rest together. All is well.
Next: Tim's first Hunt
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Blood Bonds