Hypnovember 2023
Prompts: 3.Sample, 18.Betrayal
For Sernard, featuring MiloMesmer and SlacxtheMad
By Limewah

 The dark-plumaged bird stood outside the entrance to the manor; exhausted after a carriage ride that had taken him the better part of a day. Slacx was thankful that the evening was not particularly cold, or dark, or rainy. Not only would it have put him more ill at ease It would have made for a most detestable cliche.
His old friend Milo had summoned him out here, informing him of his recent windfall and his desire to reconnect over a bottle or two of wine. The corvid had not seen that deer in years, and was a little intrigued by the artist’s shift in fortune. He assumed Milo had been paid handsomely by a patron, or gifted the house, but Milo had been decidedly evasive in his correspondence.

In any case, here he was, in front of the thick, ornate door leading into the stone-built manor, perhaps made out of the remnants of an old castle tower. When he knocked, he expected a servant to answer the door; surely a place such as this would need one.
He was surprised to find himself gazing at the most strange creature he had ever seen in his life.
The upper half appeared vulpine, but just below the waistcoat that he wore, his body tapered into long, serpentine coils, though they were still covered in the same white fur as his upper half. His ears had red stripes on them, making him think of the sort of markings a dangerous, venomous snake might have. His eyes - deep red, with black sclerae - regarded him with impassive suspicion. There was a slight scent to him too. Spicy and aromatic, like hot mulled wine.
“Are you Slacx?” he asked, his accented voice firm and businesslike. “Sir Milo has been expecting you. Please, enter.” 
The coils remained splayed out behind him, and the corvid found himself having to timidly step over them. This appearance had instantly thrown him off his guard; what other surprises were in store.
“Is that you?” a familiar, friendly voice called out. It came from a doorway at the end of a red carpet just off the landing, with an already-crackling fire visible from where he was. “Come here, let me see you!”
As Slacx nervously approached, he glanced over his shoulder at the fox-snake, who simply stared right back as he followed from a respectful distance.
The stag, slender and youthful as he always had been, stepped into view. His long hair looked softer, less matted and greasy than the bohemian look he used to wear. He looked like a young prince, with his flowing shirt and gold-trimmed dressing gown. His arms were open wide, and Slacx was not able to resist their gravitational pull as he was brought into a tight, warm hug. 
That same smell lingered on Milo, only the slightest, subtlest kiss of it.

“It is so good to see you! I was worried you might have gotten lost.”
“No, it was an easy enough trip, actually…”
“I apologise for dragging you out so far; but living in a secluded place like this has done wonders for me. But you must be exhausted! Would you like a chair, or to use my butler?”
“Your what-?” Slacx looked behind him, to find the snake-fox towering behind him. His coils were looped in front of him now, slowly coiling into a shape not unlike a long fainting couch - rectangular, with some raised coils to support one’s upper body. 
“Believe me, Sernard here will make you very comfortable,” Milo said. “Please, sit, sit!”
“I am here to serve,” Sernard said. It was hard to discern his opinion of the bird from his voice, and something about those inviting white coils made him feel nervous and self conscious. As Milo sat in his thickly upholstered chair, Slacx slowly eased himself down and slipped into the coils.
They were luxuriously warm, not the cold blood he might have expected from a serpent. He tried not to make his pleasure too obvious, afraid of appearing rude.

“Now, tell me, Slacx, how have you been? Tell me all about the last few years!”
“Well, I have been continuing my studies mostly, and I’ve met some very interesting individuals to that end. There is a potionmaster who I have been-”
“Oh, gracious!” Milo leapt up. “The wine! I completely forgot about the wine.”
“I have one prepared, sir,” Sernard said. Slacx craned his neck, and saw the butler was holding a thick, heavy bottle of wine with the tip of his tail. The cork was still in place. Two wine glasses - one a broad flute and the other more rounded -  were nestled by the stems between his knuckles. “The Vin Doux Natureles, as you requested.”
“Ah, delightful!” Milo clapped his hands together with an animated joy. “This comes from Sernard’s home, believe it or not. And while it’s a fortified wine, believe you me, it puts every vineyard in this country to shame!”
The soft foonk of the wine being uncorked made Slacx jump. Why was he feeling a sense of dread, a fight-or-flight feeling like that of some small rodent? He looked at Milo again, at his smiling, welcoming face, and couldn’t help notice something that had escaped his attention before.

Milo’s eyes were a brilliant emerald from Slacx’s recollection, he was quite sure of that. But there was a duller, almost rusty tint to them now.
“Are you all right?” Milo asked, concern spreading along his face. “Something troubling you?”
“Ah, no, not at all! I just am deeply amazed by how far your fortunes have turned.”
“I can scarcely believe it myself,” Milo said. 
Sernard politely offered a glass to Slacx, and his tail tilted the bottle to fill the glass up with wine. It was almost black, and had a deeply luxurious fruitiness to its aroma. The glass was very wide, too, wide enough for him to dip his beak inside for easier drinking. Milo had definitely prepared for this visit.
“My travels brought me all across the continent, and truth be told I was taken advantage of a fair amount. It takes one a long time to truly understand the value of their art, doesn’t it?” 
“Very true, very true.”
“But, then, I made the acquaintance of the owner of this manor, who allowed me to move in. He loved me like I were his flesh and blood… I brought comfort to the last couple of years of his life, and he left this place to me in his will. Quite lucky, I must say.”
“Ah… I’m sorry to hear that.” Slacx said.
“Oh, don’t be,” Milo said with a strange dismissiveness as he accepted his glass from his serpentine servant. “He died comfortably. Now… to us, and our fortunes!”
Slacx proffered his glass in a cheers, though as he dipped his beak into his glass, he found himself lingering just a moment to see if Milo would take the first drink.
Why was he even doubting his friend? What reason would he have for poisoning him…?
Not only did the deer take a sip, he took a longer draught than that, at least a mouthful.
Seeing that, Slacx allowed his beak to open and his tongue to lap up the wine.

A heavenly array of sweet fruit caressed his palate, disarming him with its deliciousness. He felt Milo’s expectant eyes on him and looked back with a smile.
“Very nice, thank you!” he said. “That is… quite impressive! And you said it came from Sernard’s home?”
“Oh, yes,” Milo said, holding out his now empty glass for another serving. “It is divine stuff, is it not?”
“Very…” 
Slacx had more to say, but something stopped him. Another flavour fizzed on his tongue, something slightly bitter, almost acidic. A dizziness spread through his head, like he had just inhaled ether by accident. He felt his grip start to slip. Something warm wrapped tightly around his wrist and kept him from dropping the glass, and it was guided to his lips.
“Please, have more,” Sernard said. His voice sounded different. Deeper, more sonorous, somehow echoing in his ears as though the inside of his head were a cavern. Slacx was unable to resist the command. The fruit and the tartness filled his head again.

“Oh, how I wish I could be experiencing what you’re experiencing for the first time,” Milo said from across the room, his voice sounding so strange and distant. “Sernard’s venom is so delicious, isn’t it?”
“Sernard…?” Slacx groaned, as the glass was pulled away from him. 

“Yessss.” Sernard interceded between the pair, looming over the bird and staring right down at him. “I prepared this wine myself, and infused a bit of myself in it as well…”
It was only then that Slacx noticed the long fangs protruding from Sernard’s snout. Or that the ‘ears’, as they opened downwards  were not so much ears as they were a hood, not unlike a cobra’s. His eyes, too… those deep red pools began to ripple, two deep vats of crimson claret. Intoxicating in their own right. The bitter pleasure filled his head, and his vision began to swim and twist, everything in the room splitting apart and reconstituting… except for the snow-white creature, and his pulsating eyes. The coils shifted and pushed underneath him, giving him the barest hint of a massage.
“You like how my venom feels, yes? And that was just a slight taste of it. Imagine how much better it will feel when I…”

The vampire let that linger, holding a predatory grin as his eyes continued to swirl and infatuate.
“When you… what…?” Slacx felt both terrified and excited of what the answer might be.
“When I tassste you. Stand, and bare your neck for me.”
Slacx stood from the coils, infatuated by the eyes, and the silken voice of the vampiric beast. He tilted his head to the side as Sernard leaned in. The breath was strangely cold against his feathers and flesh, like a bitterly numbing chill. The fangs, too, were cold as they pierced into him like twin syringes. Even colder still was the vampire’s tongue, slithering along as the wounds seeped blood. He could feel that venom had entered into his blood, too…
And with it, a paroxysm of pleasure made him gasp and made his knees buckle. Fear gripped him, the last gasp of his resistance, and his heavy feet shuffled as though he were about to run. 
Furred coils were waiting for him, though, and he tripped and toppled, only to be caught by a familiar pair of slender arms from behind.
“There,” Milo cooed to him, stroking his chest and holding him still as the coils- the only part of the vampire that had any warmth to them - slowly snaked up around them and bound them closer together. “There, there, my friend… Just allow it to happen. Allow his gift to spread through you…”
Slacx moaned. “You d…decieved me…”
“Perhaps,” Milo said. “Perhaps that brief story I spun was a lie… but no matter now, no need to hide it. Sernard is the true master. This house is his. My body is his, too. And yours will be too, as soon as you cease your struggles and give in…”

Milo’s head rested on Slacx’s free shoulder, as Sernard continued to savour his blood. Smothered between the bodies and slowly snared by the coils, Slacx tried one last frantic attempt to escape, to call for help, anything at all to save him from being eternally enthralled.
But nothing came to him. The world was a smear, his mind was jumbled, and that intoxicating taste of venom was enveloping every fibre of his being.
One thing did come into focus as he tried to look away from the white creature’s hood… a glass flute, full of that wine.
“Here, my friend,” Milo said. “One more drink from the glass… and you’ll be all his. In bliss, with me, forever…”
Slacx’s body betrayed his mind - a last betrayal that made his mind give into the pleasurable despair. 
He drank deep of the glass, parched and desperate. 
The hint of venom truly came to the fore now… and it was the most delicious flavour he had ever tasted.
The glass slipped from Milo’s hand, and shattered on the floor. 
With it, shattered the last vestiges of the bird’s resistance.
And with that, the vampire fox had one more thrall for his growing collection, wrapped tight in his coils, and ripe for the tasting. 
He would feed well off of their rich blood, and would have his newest thrall acquire a third course, when his palate needed a refresh.