Embrace The Dark [Prologue]
Title: Embrace The Dark [Prologue]
Author:
xmychemx
Pairing: Bam/Ville [eventually]
Rating: PG for now.
Summary: The were born to destroy each other...
Disclaimer: I don't own Bam and Ville, sadly.
Beta:
byond_redemptn
Author's Note: My first Vam series ever. Let's see how it goes..
Warnings: Supernatural themes, aka, vampires and werewolves.
Bam doesn't question it; that's how it has always been, and how it will be long after he is in his grave. When he was thirteen, Bam was introduced to the world that he had belonged to but remained ignorant to for years.
It started the night of his thirteenth birthday, when Brandon Novak accidentally broke his skateboard. Bam was furious to say the least, but then it went further than that. He was terrified by the tingling running through his mind, the sudden warmth that ran through his blood to every crevice of his body. He felt untouchable, alive. And then slowly, painfully, he had begun to morph, right in the middle of his lounge room. He panicked momentarily, and then the change was complete and there was a rush of adrenaline alive in his veins that no amount of skateboarding or stunt-work could ever compare to. He never wanted it to end. And that, in the end, was the result of him changing back. With his anger dissipated, he felt his bones contracting and changing again, the newly acquired fur vanishing from his body... Leaving him standing naked in front of his dumbstruck friends and anxious looking parents. It wasn't long after that that April had ushered everybody home and confronted Bam in his bedroom, explaining to him with a great deal of patience everything that had previously been kept from him.
His father took him for a run that night. Bam had never felt anything so amazing.
In following this new path, Bam lost friends, his education, any future career he might have aspired to have -- But in truth, he didn't care. He had spent thirteen years of a practically pointless existence hoping, pleading for there to be something more. And now he felt complete. Almost.
"Bam? Bam!"
Bam snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at his brother, a frown on his lips.
"Do we have to do this, Jess? Look, it's such a nice day outside and I really just wanna go for a run..." Bam whined in protest, longing in his eyes as he gazed out the window.
Jess sighed audibly, running a hand through his hair.
"Dad'll kill me if I don't finish your lesson..." he warned, but Bam was grinning.
"He won't know."
"Bam --"
"Jess, please. Come on. You don't really want to be stuck in here for the rest of the day, do you?"
Jess groaned. He really, really didn't. In fact, if he had his own way, he wouldn't spend any of his days in this stupid classroom trying to teach his brother. But, his father had insisted, and when Phil Margera wanted something done, it was done.
"Alright, alright. But just an hour, okay? And then we have to finish this."
But Bam was already half-way out the door, waving his hand dismissively.
"I've got it, Jess. Vampires - bad."
Jess rolled his eyes, but Bam merely grinned at him before he was running outside. Jess watched from the window as his brother ran out towards the woods, morphing mid-step. Now equipped with four legs instead of two, Bam was out of his sight in moments.
Knowing that Bam wasn't coming back regardless of what he had said, Jess shook his head, walking out of the classroom and shutting the door behind him. His brother had never been one for the rules.
Bam loved running. He'd spend his entire life doing it, if he could. He loved the way the wind whistled through his fur, the way he almost had to squint to protect his eyes from the sharp bite of wind. The ground of the woods was rough beneath his paws, littered with twigs and stones and thorns, but Bam hardly noticed them, running as though he would never tire.
The rest of the pack was convinced that Bam was too hyperactive, had too much energy, and that was why he ran so much. Bam knew it wasn't true. He ran because it allowed him to be free. Free from books and orders. In another year, he would legally be classified an adult amongst their kind, but until then, he was forced to endure hours of studying and reading up on their culture. Bam didn't see the point. He had been taught from word go that he was expected to act proper. His father was their leader, people looked up to him and his family. But sometimes, Bam wished he could just be someone else. He was sick of being Brandon Margera, one day to lead their kind. Jess had graciously passed up the opportunity, and Bam hated him for it. He didn't want it any more than his older brother did. However, he knew what was expected of him, and to please his mother and father, if nothing else, he acted as though it was what he too, wanted.
And as soon as he was given the opportunity, he ran.
Bam Margera was a werewolf, and his father, the leader of their pack.
---
"Ville? Where are you?"
Ville squeezed his eye shut, slouching his shoulders and trying to make himself as small as possible, hoping to God they wouldn't find him. He was hidden out in the garden, curled up under the old oak tree, a book in his lap. The voice suddenly stopped calling him, and he bit his lip, cautiously opening his eyes, and startling in fright.
"Linde!"
Linde shook his head, leaning down and pulling the book out of Ville's lap, a smirk on his lips.
"Hiding again, Ville?"
Ville shifted awkwardly, standing up and snatching his book back.
"No. I was just reading."
"You were hiding. Like always. Come on, they're preparing for the hunt."
Ville groaned, reluctantly walking back to the main house, Linde in tow. He could feel the other boy's eyes on the back of his head, making sure that he didn't try to run off again.
Sometimes, Ville wished he were invisible so that he could hide properly. They could always find him. It was impossible for them not to, really. The calling out was just for show. All they had to do was dip inside his mind and hey presto -- Ville.
Linde was his best friend, but not even he understood Ville's eagerness to hide from them all. Nobody understood why there was always a book at his fingertips. His father, eager to stamp out Ville's unusual fetish, had banned him from the activity, but he still managed to frequently slip away unnoticed.
His father looked at him disapprovingly when Ville entered the room.
"Please don't tell me you were reading again, Ville..."
Ville glanced guiltily at Linde before replying. "No, sir."
His father sighed, and it was obvious he didn't believe him. Regardless, he waved his son off dismissively.
"Go and prepare. We hunt tonight."
With a sinking heart, Ville turned and left. It was only when he was in the hall did he hang his head, feeling his eyes watering and rubbing at them furiously. He hated the way he never seemed to be able to please his father. Ville was an outcast amongst his coven. Nothing he did ever seemed to live up to their expectations. He wasn't normal. He didn't like to hunt, he hated the way he was forced to single out innocent victims and steal their life right out of their fingertips. But what most set him apart from the others, was his indifference towards their enemy. From the age of ten, Ville had it drilled into him time and time again that werewolves were the enemy, the ones to be eliminated should they ever cross paths. They were scum, he was told, filthy animals not deserving of walking the Earth... And yet, Ville couldn't help but wonder. As far as he could see, he was no different himself. He fed on the living, his heart did not beat, he was the walking dead, but he had never died. He was born and bred to be who he was, and he hated every waking minute.
He knew that his father was quickly tiring of him. Kari Valo wanted his son to be everything -- their future leader, a prime example for the younger ones, and the older ones too.
Perhaps what hurt Ville the most was the knowledge that he would never live up to his father's expectations. He would never be what they wanted him to be, no matter how hard he should try.
It was with a defeated expression that Ville followed the rest of the coven out into the night, his stomach twisting and turning nauseously when he thought of what lay ahead.
At the tender age of eleven, Ville had been forced to take his place by his father's side at the head of the coven. He was taught to detach himself, become unfeeling, cold, harsh when necessary, and above all, to have one sole purpose in mind -- destroy the enemy at all costs.
He was a vampire, and there was nothing Ville hated more in the world than himself.
Author:
xmychemx
Pairing: Bam/Ville [eventually]
Rating: PG for now.
Summary: The were born to destroy each other...
Disclaimer: I don't own Bam and Ville, sadly.
Beta:
byond_redemptn
Author's Note: My first Vam series ever. Let's see how it goes..
Warnings: Supernatural themes, aka, vampires and werewolves.
Bam doesn't question it; that's how it has always been, and how it will be long after he is in his grave. When he was thirteen, Bam was introduced to the world that he had belonged to but remained ignorant to for years.
It started the night of his thirteenth birthday, when Brandon Novak accidentally broke his skateboard. Bam was furious to say the least, but then it went further than that. He was terrified by the tingling running through his mind, the sudden warmth that ran through his blood to every crevice of his body. He felt untouchable, alive. And then slowly, painfully, he had begun to morph, right in the middle of his lounge room. He panicked momentarily, and then the change was complete and there was a rush of adrenaline alive in his veins that no amount of skateboarding or stunt-work could ever compare to. He never wanted it to end. And that, in the end, was the result of him changing back. With his anger dissipated, he felt his bones contracting and changing again, the newly acquired fur vanishing from his body... Leaving him standing naked in front of his dumbstruck friends and anxious looking parents. It wasn't long after that that April had ushered everybody home and confronted Bam in his bedroom, explaining to him with a great deal of patience everything that had previously been kept from him.
His father took him for a run that night. Bam had never felt anything so amazing.
In following this new path, Bam lost friends, his education, any future career he might have aspired to have -- But in truth, he didn't care. He had spent thirteen years of a practically pointless existence hoping, pleading for there to be something more. And now he felt complete. Almost.
"Bam? Bam!"
Bam snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at his brother, a frown on his lips.
"Do we have to do this, Jess? Look, it's such a nice day outside and I really just wanna go for a run..." Bam whined in protest, longing in his eyes as he gazed out the window.
Jess sighed audibly, running a hand through his hair.
"Dad'll kill me if I don't finish your lesson..." he warned, but Bam was grinning.
"He won't know."
"Bam --"
"Jess, please. Come on. You don't really want to be stuck in here for the rest of the day, do you?"
Jess groaned. He really, really didn't. In fact, if he had his own way, he wouldn't spend any of his days in this stupid classroom trying to teach his brother. But, his father had insisted, and when Phil Margera wanted something done, it was done.
"Alright, alright. But just an hour, okay? And then we have to finish this."
But Bam was already half-way out the door, waving his hand dismissively.
"I've got it, Jess. Vampires - bad."
Jess rolled his eyes, but Bam merely grinned at him before he was running outside. Jess watched from the window as his brother ran out towards the woods, morphing mid-step. Now equipped with four legs instead of two, Bam was out of his sight in moments.
Knowing that Bam wasn't coming back regardless of what he had said, Jess shook his head, walking out of the classroom and shutting the door behind him. His brother had never been one for the rules.
Bam loved running. He'd spend his entire life doing it, if he could. He loved the way the wind whistled through his fur, the way he almost had to squint to protect his eyes from the sharp bite of wind. The ground of the woods was rough beneath his paws, littered with twigs and stones and thorns, but Bam hardly noticed them, running as though he would never tire.
The rest of the pack was convinced that Bam was too hyperactive, had too much energy, and that was why he ran so much. Bam knew it wasn't true. He ran because it allowed him to be free. Free from books and orders. In another year, he would legally be classified an adult amongst their kind, but until then, he was forced to endure hours of studying and reading up on their culture. Bam didn't see the point. He had been taught from word go that he was expected to act proper. His father was their leader, people looked up to him and his family. But sometimes, Bam wished he could just be someone else. He was sick of being Brandon Margera, one day to lead their kind. Jess had graciously passed up the opportunity, and Bam hated him for it. He didn't want it any more than his older brother did. However, he knew what was expected of him, and to please his mother and father, if nothing else, he acted as though it was what he too, wanted.
And as soon as he was given the opportunity, he ran.
Bam Margera was a werewolf, and his father, the leader of their pack.
---
"Ville? Where are you?"
Ville squeezed his eye shut, slouching his shoulders and trying to make himself as small as possible, hoping to God they wouldn't find him. He was hidden out in the garden, curled up under the old oak tree, a book in his lap. The voice suddenly stopped calling him, and he bit his lip, cautiously opening his eyes, and startling in fright.
"Linde!"
Linde shook his head, leaning down and pulling the book out of Ville's lap, a smirk on his lips.
"Hiding again, Ville?"
Ville shifted awkwardly, standing up and snatching his book back.
"No. I was just reading."
"You were hiding. Like always. Come on, they're preparing for the hunt."
Ville groaned, reluctantly walking back to the main house, Linde in tow. He could feel the other boy's eyes on the back of his head, making sure that he didn't try to run off again.
Sometimes, Ville wished he were invisible so that he could hide properly. They could always find him. It was impossible for them not to, really. The calling out was just for show. All they had to do was dip inside his mind and hey presto -- Ville.
Linde was his best friend, but not even he understood Ville's eagerness to hide from them all. Nobody understood why there was always a book at his fingertips. His father, eager to stamp out Ville's unusual fetish, had banned him from the activity, but he still managed to frequently slip away unnoticed.
His father looked at him disapprovingly when Ville entered the room.
"Please don't tell me you were reading again, Ville..."
Ville glanced guiltily at Linde before replying. "No, sir."
His father sighed, and it was obvious he didn't believe him. Regardless, he waved his son off dismissively.
"Go and prepare. We hunt tonight."
With a sinking heart, Ville turned and left. It was only when he was in the hall did he hang his head, feeling his eyes watering and rubbing at them furiously. He hated the way he never seemed to be able to please his father. Ville was an outcast amongst his coven. Nothing he did ever seemed to live up to their expectations. He wasn't normal. He didn't like to hunt, he hated the way he was forced to single out innocent victims and steal their life right out of their fingertips. But what most set him apart from the others, was his indifference towards their enemy. From the age of ten, Ville had it drilled into him time and time again that werewolves were the enemy, the ones to be eliminated should they ever cross paths. They were scum, he was told, filthy animals not deserving of walking the Earth... And yet, Ville couldn't help but wonder. As far as he could see, he was no different himself. He fed on the living, his heart did not beat, he was the walking dead, but he had never died. He was born and bred to be who he was, and he hated every waking minute.
He knew that his father was quickly tiring of him. Kari Valo wanted his son to be everything -- their future leader, a prime example for the younger ones, and the older ones too.
Perhaps what hurt Ville the most was the knowledge that he would never live up to his father's expectations. He would never be what they wanted him to be, no matter how hard he should try.
It was with a defeated expression that Ville followed the rest of the coven out into the night, his stomach twisting and turning nauseously when he thought of what lay ahead.
At the tender age of eleven, Ville had been forced to take his place by his father's side at the head of the coven. He was taught to detach himself, become unfeeling, cold, harsh when necessary, and above all, to have one sole purpose in mind -- destroy the enemy at all costs.
He was a vampire, and there was nothing Ville hated more in the world than himself.