Post by Deleted on Nov 28, 2021 15:08:30 GMT -7
TRIGGER WARNINGJanuary 1, 2026
New Year’s Eve was a celebratory time. The year of 2025 had flown by and the new year was just about upon them. Fenrir had worked hard this year, maintaining his position as a favorite in the family, traveling, and working on his many projects. Oftentimes, if the family wanted someone hurt, and most likely dead, they would often send the young man. But tonight was for him. He intended to take it easy, and didn’t care to be in the main house today. There was a chance someone would try to usurp his position. Without wanting to deal with the extra stress of the Nightshade gathering for the changing of year. So, for a break from the clan, Fenrir headed out to a questionable bar somewhere in his motherland, Russia.
There was one thing that Fenrir Nightshade wasn’t allowed to do a lot of. That was drinking copious amounts of alcohol. A small amount on occasion was fine, but any good amount of drinking and, like most people, his true self would start to shine through. The problem with Fenrir doing that? The more alcohol he took in, the more homicides he became. During high class events where he was expected to be on his best behavior, there were countless measures to ensure he didn’t drink. Meredith was a big player there. As such, he didn’t get much of a chance to really drink. Fenrir loved to drink. So, when he got the chance, he took full advantage of it. The more he drank, the crazier he seemed to get. But there was always a point while drinking, when Fenrir would completely black out. Being Russian, he had a high alcohol tolerance, so he knew that he could enjoy quite a few drinks before he stopped remembering. Though the downfall of blacking out was always the same.
Light poured into the windows, the curtains half ripped from their place. The light brought the pounding to Fenrir’s head. He slowly opened his eyes, the room unfamiliar to him. It looked like a hotel room. The elegant area had been destroyed, the carnage of the night before. It was quite clear that blood had been spilled and spread around. The scene of pure chaos bringing a smile to his lips. His head throbbed. As he stood up, he could see his hands and arms had changed from their normal pale skin color to that of blood. He was confident in assuming that it had originally belonged to someone else. On the only table that was up right was a goblet, no doubt containing a specially brewed potion just for him. He walked over, chugging the substance. Just like magic, the hangover he felt faded away. He spotted his wand and trusty switchblade both on the table, cleaned to perfection. Seemed as though someone couldn’t wait for him to stir. But she knew better than to actually wake him up.
As the man looked over the room, he managed to almost trip on something that he hadn’t spotted before, but he gave it a good look now. The severed leg seemed to belong to that of a woman. Crouching down he gave it a good look. It felt cold, definitely had been a while since it had been separated from its owner. And it would explain most of the blood. It would be expecting too much if he said that it was all the blood. When he got that drunk, there was rarely only one victim. Now that he was awake, he heard someone softly enter the suite he was in. Still looking around, Fenrir spotted a laminated piece of paper, The main parts were in Russian. Guess he didn’t leave the country. That was good. Their family had a strong pull here, and nothing would come of the night's events. As expected, his trusted shadow brought him some coffee, he always started his morning with the drink. He moved to it, and took it, realizing that he was lacking a shirt, but not caring. She was his servant, she’d seen worse.
After drinking his coffee, it was time that he cleaned himself up, while Meredith did what she was going to do with the destroyed, bloody mess of a suit he had somehow managed to get himself into. Well, now that he thought about it, she probably did something to ensure that he got there, after some time. With his coffee downed, it was time he cleaned up. He didn’t mind being covered in someone else's blood, but it was usually seen as socially unacceptable. So, he went into the extravagant bathroom, and shut the door behind him. Taking the chance to look in the mirror, he saw dried blood was everywhere. Clearly the pants were stained and ruined as well, his hair clumped together from the blood that splattered and he had obviously pushed his hair back with his bloody hand at least once. Stripping, and discarding his bloody clothes, he started and got into the steamy shower. He was completely covered with blood. Dried blood wasn’t the easiest to get rid of, but if there was one thing Fenrir Nightshade knew was how to clean his own skin from blood. He took his time, as the water that drained off of him was far from clear.
After the shower he stepped out into the slightly cleaner suite, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. ”Report on the previous night.” He was always interested in exactly how many he attacked, and how many he killed during his black out. His average was around three. But there was clearly one who would have all the gritty details. He listened to her report as he dropped the towel and began to dress in the clean, pressed clothes that Meredith had laid out for him. Once dressed, looking well put together, all signs of last night’s episode erased his body, and the two left the suit. ”I trust you’ll take care of this. I’ll be back at the manor when you're done.” Leaving the hotel, the valet already pulled his luxury car to the front, Fenrir settled into the machine and with one last look at his maid, he rolled down the window to say one last thing. ”Once you return, I’ll give you a nice reward.” promised her, and then he was off, the purr of the luxury car was music to his ears as he headed back to the main house, and the manor that he had lived in for so long.
