Deep beneath the catacombs, down further than even those closest to the inner circle were permitted, was a mahogany door set with gilded hinges. It was thick, impossible to break unless you were extremely preternaturally strong. It was also locked. Many times. Rats scurried before it but didn't seem to dare slip beneath, as though terrified of the energy that resided within. And for good reason.
Dark, unholy shadows slithered along the walls within the chamber. Powerful Wraiths, the strongest that currently served the Giovanni, locked in unending servitude to their fickle and selfish master. No one knew where he slept exactly, just that he lay somewhere deep below the Estate, shielded from any who tried to find him. He'd been in Torpor for centuries. However, when the new God of Vampires had risen, he had begun to stir. His dreams grew more rapid. More urgent. More hungry. It was time to return and end the dream.
Eyelids slid open slowly, intense golden eyes scanning the darkness as the Disciple awoke. The wraiths in the chamber kicked up into a frenzy and every Giovanni would feel the stirring, as if something asleep within themselves had roused as well. Augustus Giovanni stretched long slender fingers tipped in sharp, well-manicured claws that had the appearance of obsidian glass. Licking his lips as his core lengthened and the feeling began to return to his muscles.
The silk sheets sliding over his body in a delicious explosion of sensation made him smile darkly, he was a whore for sensation and he'd missed every delicious indulgence the waking world afforded. He hadn't been boarded up in some coffin like a cheap horror vampire for his extended slumber. Oh no. When Augustus had gone into Torpor he'd forced the servants at the time to craft him a large, ornate, four posted bed. It was dressed with a variety of expensive silk sheets and comforters. No expense spared.
The lavish canopy enshrouding the top was made of thick silk, obscuring the view of the ceiling above. Draped layers of sheer black material falling over the edges from beneath them to create a stunningly liquid effect not unlike water that completely enclosed the bed and the occupant, or occupants, within. The Disciple sat up in one fluid motion. His incredibly long hair pooling around a strong, lithe frame. Almost appearing to be chiseled from marble. He exuded an air of intense charisma combined with cold self interest and sadistic predatory intent.
His claws slipped through the folds of sheer material, parting the curtain an inch with the back of one hand briefly before letting it fall into place once more. Immediately the wraiths parted it for him and he smiled. Even that expression was cold. Augustus placed his paws firmly upon the stone floor and pulled himself from his place of rest. He was fully naked, though it was quite obvious he felt no shame.
As he rose he stretched, every muscle in his body shuddering against time, yawning deeply, flashing perfectly white teeth. He was hungry. Insatiable. One of the wraiths hissed low and slithered quickly out to find Nonna, he ignored it and inspected his chambers to see what he had for attire. In the end it was an expensive robe made from the finest silk. A small white snake with gray-blue eyes slithered up one of the bed posts, tiny forked tongue flickering as it scented the air. Augustus paused, his gaze sliding to it before he waved a dismissive hand in it's direction. The little Wraith nodded once and faded from view.
He would sate his hunger for blood and then Nonna would bring him the next thing he craved, almost more than blood. Energetic and willing flesh.