For those you killedMature

Lazarus watched Melissa walk away. He wanted to follow her and make sure she stayed safe, but... he wasn't so sure that it would be appreciated. So, he did as she asked, walking back to the apartment alone.

If only it was that easy. As he trudged back through the dimly lit streets, an all too familiar, abrasive voice called out to him. "You rotten mongrel!" Lazarus turned, surprised as Albert stalked out of the shadows at him.

"I've heard that one before," he said coolly, not in the mood to start fighting.

"You steal my girl, now you threaten my position," He smirked, "you better run kid." Lazarus almost smiled.

"I'm not threatening anyone's position," he crossed his arms, "and I didn't steal her," he corrected him, relaxed and not intimidated by the aggressive behaviour. Or at least, that's how he looked on the outside. Inside, he was cursing loudly, wondering how he was supposed to get out of this one without fighting.

"She was mine...She'll be mine again. I know where her heart lies." Lazarus nodded, a serious expression on his face.

"She was yours. If her heart was truly yours, you would be the one wearing this ring," he said, flashing him the warm gold band around his finger. "Oh, and you would have saved her from becoming a vampire. That might have helped your case a little." He instantly regretted saying this, but he refused to show that. He had no idea what had possessed him to provoke the angry wolf before him any further.

"It couldn't be helped; I wanted her with me forever. The wolf would have been painful for her fragile form. As for the band? It's a lump of metal and means nothing."

"And becoming a vampire wasn't painful for her?" He arched an eyebrow slightly, incredulous.

"It was more painful to watch, I suppose," Albert shrugged.

"You have no idea, do you?" he frowned, "How she ever fell in love with someone as heartless as you, will never know."

"Humph. A woman's job is to cook and clean and to have kids. She was good, she never stepped out of place," Albert murmured, taking a casual step forward. Melissa sat on the roof of the cake-shop nearby, watching down-wind. She understood this was their fight. She just didn't want it to be over her.

"Now, I know we are from the same century, but apparently you've been left behind. Let me give you a little update," Lazarus smiled, not stepping back as Albert drew closer, though he unfolded his arms, letting his hands hang down by his sides, "these days, my dear Albert, women are not there to cook or clean or have kids. They are perfectly capable of anything a man can do."

"If she thinks that, then once you die. She will learn her place." A smirk spread across his face, "It'll be hard, she never did really learn. She was so stubborn. Too bad she died first. But now I'm stronger, my blows should teach her better." He explained, looking at Lazarus with a cold, unearthly glare.

"Yes, I heard all about how you took care of your sister. Lilly, was it?" Lazarus shrugged off the glare from Albert, still keeping up the air of cool indifference.

"She disobeyed, she learnt," he shrugged.

"And now you intend to do the same to me, hmm?" Lazarus pretended to consider for a moment, "y'know what? I'm not really in the mood to be taught my lesson," he smiled.

"I don't think you have a choice," he muttered, his hand reaching behind his back and Melissa saw the glint of silver in the moonlight. Lazarus watched his hand carefully.

"Oh, don't tell me. A silver weapon," he guessed, rolling his eyes and taking half a step back, "how very predictable of you," he said, as Melissa screamed somewhere above them.

"No!" She shrieked, sliding down the angled roof, propelling herself at Albert. Lazarus leapt forward, knocking Albert off balance, forcing Melissa to miss her target and Albert to let go of the knife as he landed awkwardly on the hand gripping it.

"Bitch!" He snarled, biting Lazarus' shoulder sharply. Melissa however scowled, rolling onto the floor as she was caught off by Lazarus' movement. He growled as Albert's teeth sank into him, spilling blood, but he shook it off, punching his face hard enough to dislodge him. His head cracked back into the concrete loudly. He stared up at him with lifeless eyes, his grin remaining and Melissa winced, "stop it, stop it now!" She swallowed, as Albert craned his neck to look at her.

"Your call, Albert," Lazarus told him, eyeing the silver knife while Albert was looking up at Melissa.

"Fine," he snarled, getting up, the crack in his head healing. Lazarus picked up the knife, holding it tightly.

"I think I'll be keeping this, though," he muttered, backing off a couple of steps.

"Like I need it," he laughed, darting to Melissa, his arm tightly around her neck, his other around her waist to restrict her arms. Melissa swallowed, her head forcefully held up she still tried to look at Lazarus.

"I'm really fucking bored of you, did you know that?" Lazarus growled, his eyes narrowing as he strode towards them. He could feel his temper snapping the way it had so many times before - in the wars, when Connor had pushed him too far. Albert barely had time to react as the blade sunk into his elbow.

He bit back the scream of sheer agony as the burning blade sunk into him; tightening his arm around her neck, he made her splutter, "move again and her neck breaks," he snarled. Lazarus' eyes were hard, angered and blank with the rage as he quickly decided his next move. His hand flew to Albert's wrist, digging his nails into the tendons and skin on the inside of his arm. At the same time, he pulled his arm back away from Melissa, ripping at the muscles with his bare fingers as he twisted the knife in his other arm.

In a final attempt his teeth sharpened and grew and with an agonized growl his teeth bit into whatever part of Melissa he could find as she fell forward wheezing. A wordless snarl rumbled in the back of Lazarus' throat as he dragged Albert away from her, throwing him up against the wall and holding him there. As much as he wanted to rush to Melissa's side, he couldn't.

"Now, now, Albert," Lazarus murmured, pulling the knife from Albert's arm, simply holding its side against the skin on his neck, holding him to the wall with his other hand in the middle of his chest. "I said I'd play nice if you did... but this isn't very nice is it? Picking on me on my way home," he pouted, moving the knife slightly, drawing a thin line of blood.

"You started this whole thing," Albert snapped kicking his legs out at him, but Lazarus wasn't bothered by the blows, too angry to care anymore.

"How on earth did I start this?" he laughed, brushing the side of the knife up across Albert's cheek, causing angry blistering, "you could have accepted that Melissa was happy, and been happy knowing that she had found someone else, someone  who didn't abandon her to her psychotic father, or vampirism for four centuries," another laugh bubbled through his lips, "if you want to be pointing fingers, point it at yourself, because you started this."

"She needs her place, you need yours. End this or I will!" he shouted, leaning into the blade. He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again and moving the knife back to Albert's throat.

"Melissa, I am so, so sorry," he half whispered, moving to end Albert's life, but Melissa but him off.

"No, give it here." He hesitated a moment, before moving back, still holding Albert up against the wall as he passed her the knife. She blinked for a moment, before placing it back at his neck, "for Grace, for Lilly, for all those you killed. May they serve you your justice," she hesitated before bringing the blade swiftly across his neck. Blood sprayed from the wound as he gurgled through the pain. Lazarus stepped back, recoiling from the red liquid with a look of disgust. 

 

The End

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