Ancient Wounds Pt4
Previous Parts 1, 2, 3
----<3
A beautiful midsummer’s night found you and I in the comfort of our decadent abode, yet as sweet the eve’s demeanour there was a overwhelming air of something being amiss. You had been born into the blood for a handful of seasons now, and yours was the sorrow in newly finding detachment from living.
You lay strewn, as I had done on many a morbid occasion, among the contrast and aroma of a carpet of roses. Were it any other time I would have been enthralled by the sheer beauty of this, but in this instance I witnessed the fading of the light from behind your endearing eyes and knew something to be awfully wrong.
My Bam, you could never withhold a secret from me, never. I knew your mind had drifted beyond me and on matters elsewhere-for I knew your thoughts as if they were my own.
“My love,” I sighed taking place besides you. I have often pondered upon the significance of this, for the way your hands took mine and the vacancy of your enticing gaze glittered had seemed to becon or beg me to you once more “you are troubled”
“Master,” you began voice cold and unfeeling, as if to say a sorrowful farewell “I have fear, fear of all things around me which my new eyes now see. I fear the blood, Lord”
For a short time I looked upon you in question, slipping my arms around your waist if only to allow you some small comfort in this cold new world.
“I fear them, Master” you continued words still groping for the light which could ignite in you the courage to face your inner demons “with every life I take I find myself seeing new things. In the moment their light fades away in death their memory, their soul is given up to me. Understand it is not the fact that mine is the right to take their lives which makes me afraid, sir. It is the fear that my willingness to kill and to drink would make an addict of me again”
I knew now of the precipice of events from your day walking life your mind did dwell upon, and cause you this ungodly disturbance which frightened me so. For you your demons had always hidden themselves away within the recesses of your thoughts, which still you believed could claim you once again, not only from me but yourself.
The demons of which I refer were apparent to me when I first found you. You were tired and worn, with no where to go but along the road of your wretched and penniless existence which the drink had bound you to. Yes, you were but one face in the crowd of so many a lost soul that the struggle to survive had driven them along the destructive pathway of addiction. It was for the pain I saw you suffer that I did take pity upon you the instance I had seen you, coupled with your roughened beauty.
Since the dawn of our kind we creatures had been blessed and bound to the life on which we fed. A risk laden and torturous few seasons lay before all those new born to the blood, for the devastation and brutality of learning to end lives quickly weeds out the weaker made into taking their own lives within their first months.
As a new fledged child, you were amidst this struggle of overcoming the animal inside you that would fight against you to feed, letting the blood hunger itself drive to madness-should the guilt with your first slaying of the innocent not do so first.
But you would have nothing to fear, I would ensure that.
“Never again Bam,” I sighed placing a chaste kiss on your temple, whispering to you softly “the blood we seek has the power to enslave you, far worse than anything you have felt before. It would even seek to turn you upon me given chance, but I’ll not allow it. It is your will and strength that shall protect you from the dark side of the blood-be assured of it, and I shall be at your side to watch over you”
A most vigilant and watchful eye I kept upon you the following eve’s, for I would not risk your loss much as I would my own. You were my creation, my lover, my beloved, and the deed was mine to protect you from yourself and anything that would have you undone.
Being a slave to an entity living or inanimate was something that I thought worse than damnation itself, and the very last thing I would wish was to lose another I loved to the bitterness of human nature. For it had taken much from me in the past, and it would not take from me again…
……..
My sixthteenth year would mark an event so unexpectedly devastating and world shaking, that it would change my very life forever. It was a cold November morning, where the sun had not yet the strength to rise, that my father lay dying in the bedroom of our weather worn cottage.
Since the early summer of the previous year my father’s business had begun to fail, for he was had become blind in both eyes and could no longer undertake his usual work. His blindness, my mother has cried tearfully at his side, was punishment upon her from God as a heathen and a witch. Yet even though he could see but shadows, my father would still recognize my touch and would demand in his earnest fashion that I read him scripts from prayers in the evenings, and teach Jesse to do thus after me. We became terribly poor without income-even with my field work, and could no longer afford to light our hearth in the coldest months of the years cycle or eat as well as before.
In his declining state my father took to spending what little we had at the local tavern on cheap wines and ales, and would come home almost every evening having spent our money and violently drunk.
With my father a shell of the man I knew before, it was my duty to my mother and strong as I tried, all the miniscule and pitiful jobs I did undertake, on a cold foreboding morn in November, my father passed quietly away into the dawn. That day I cared for my brother, now eight years of age, leaving my mother to grieve silently upon the bed my father had been taken from us within.
As the man of our family, I felt the job was mine alone to tell my innocent brother what had befallen us. So it was I took him to sit with me along the banks of the Oulu river, forsaking my thicker garments in his favour out into the crisp air that gnawed at my bone much as the loss of my father.
“Jesse,” I had said solemnly rumpling his brown hair, managing a brave face before taking an uneasy seat on the mud of the freezing bank “you’re the second eldest man of our home now, it is important you understand that we have to take care of Mama now”
He looked up at me in child-like question from a few feet away, having been throwing stones into the shallows from the icy bank previous. I began to exhale visible breath into my burning cupped palms, for the wind blew across the water without mercy for the lost boys upon it.
“Why was Mama crying, Willa? Where has Papa gone..” he puzzled, leaving his stones to sit besides me in the thick and unstable sediment. I looked into his small gleaming eyes and saw within them the likeness of the man who had left us to fend for ourselves, feeling hate towards my father for how he abandoned us both. Yet through my anger, my confusion I held strong to my composure for the sake and love of my little brother.
“Papa has gone now, Jesse” I swallowed determined not to shed tears “somewhere far away where he can be made to see again, and Mama misses him. That is why she was crying..”
Jesse’s face contorted in deep consideration of this, and with a very mature air he finally asked of me-
“But we will see him again, when he can see one day? And Mama will not cry anymore will she?” I smiled upon him and pulled him into my arm tightly, holding him against my heart as if he were the most precious of jewels and did not wish him to become anyone’s but mine.
“Yes,” I spoke finally treasuring his hand in my own to leave the filth and the sharpness of the stony river bank, and into the whiteness of the above “perhaps we shall”
In the coming months we fought in desperation to keep head above water, I would take to minding the fields from sunrise to set, and my poor and weary mother would lend her services as a seamstress and cleaner to the women of better expectations to earn barely enough for bread.
It was a hollow existence without my father around, yet I would not forgive what I could not forget. I no longer went to church, indeed I was almost glad to be rid of it, for the face of God was unforgiving and I felt no justice in the preachers proclamations of the Lords so called ‘love’ or the venom in the gaze of his sons.
It was not long before my own kind, gentle mother was driven into the ravishing of other men. She would arrive home weeping and badly beaten, tears far out numbering the coins the hideous dishonour brought us. I recall such an instance where Jesse was to bed, and together we lay by the warmth of a rare fire as she sobbed violently into my shoulder, arms around my neck I cradled her.
I would comfort her quietly as she poured what was left of her tired soul into me, for it was all I could offer her then. If I could have plucked out the pain I would have taken her sadness into me. She was my first love, and there was nothing I would not have done to save her, indeed save us all.
Yet it would soon come to pass, that I would offer up in sacrifice my greatest possession to save the lives of my broken family, my very freedom.
--------<3
Thanks one and all : ) jope you enjoy! next part asap.
Im going away for two week,but fear not-i shall be writing!
Comments are like huggles<3love to know if you liked it
----<3
A beautiful midsummer’s night found you and I in the comfort of our decadent abode, yet as sweet the eve’s demeanour there was a overwhelming air of something being amiss. You had been born into the blood for a handful of seasons now, and yours was the sorrow in newly finding detachment from living.
You lay strewn, as I had done on many a morbid occasion, among the contrast and aroma of a carpet of roses. Were it any other time I would have been enthralled by the sheer beauty of this, but in this instance I witnessed the fading of the light from behind your endearing eyes and knew something to be awfully wrong.
My Bam, you could never withhold a secret from me, never. I knew your mind had drifted beyond me and on matters elsewhere-for I knew your thoughts as if they were my own.
“My love,” I sighed taking place besides you. I have often pondered upon the significance of this, for the way your hands took mine and the vacancy of your enticing gaze glittered had seemed to becon or beg me to you once more “you are troubled”
“Master,” you began voice cold and unfeeling, as if to say a sorrowful farewell “I have fear, fear of all things around me which my new eyes now see. I fear the blood, Lord”
For a short time I looked upon you in question, slipping my arms around your waist if only to allow you some small comfort in this cold new world.
“I fear them, Master” you continued words still groping for the light which could ignite in you the courage to face your inner demons “with every life I take I find myself seeing new things. In the moment their light fades away in death their memory, their soul is given up to me. Understand it is not the fact that mine is the right to take their lives which makes me afraid, sir. It is the fear that my willingness to kill and to drink would make an addict of me again”
I knew now of the precipice of events from your day walking life your mind did dwell upon, and cause you this ungodly disturbance which frightened me so. For you your demons had always hidden themselves away within the recesses of your thoughts, which still you believed could claim you once again, not only from me but yourself.
The demons of which I refer were apparent to me when I first found you. You were tired and worn, with no where to go but along the road of your wretched and penniless existence which the drink had bound you to. Yes, you were but one face in the crowd of so many a lost soul that the struggle to survive had driven them along the destructive pathway of addiction. It was for the pain I saw you suffer that I did take pity upon you the instance I had seen you, coupled with your roughened beauty.
Since the dawn of our kind we creatures had been blessed and bound to the life on which we fed. A risk laden and torturous few seasons lay before all those new born to the blood, for the devastation and brutality of learning to end lives quickly weeds out the weaker made into taking their own lives within their first months.
As a new fledged child, you were amidst this struggle of overcoming the animal inside you that would fight against you to feed, letting the blood hunger itself drive to madness-should the guilt with your first slaying of the innocent not do so first.
But you would have nothing to fear, I would ensure that.
“Never again Bam,” I sighed placing a chaste kiss on your temple, whispering to you softly “the blood we seek has the power to enslave you, far worse than anything you have felt before. It would even seek to turn you upon me given chance, but I’ll not allow it. It is your will and strength that shall protect you from the dark side of the blood-be assured of it, and I shall be at your side to watch over you”
A most vigilant and watchful eye I kept upon you the following eve’s, for I would not risk your loss much as I would my own. You were my creation, my lover, my beloved, and the deed was mine to protect you from yourself and anything that would have you undone.
Being a slave to an entity living or inanimate was something that I thought worse than damnation itself, and the very last thing I would wish was to lose another I loved to the bitterness of human nature. For it had taken much from me in the past, and it would not take from me again…
……..
My sixthteenth year would mark an event so unexpectedly devastating and world shaking, that it would change my very life forever. It was a cold November morning, where the sun had not yet the strength to rise, that my father lay dying in the bedroom of our weather worn cottage.
Since the early summer of the previous year my father’s business had begun to fail, for he was had become blind in both eyes and could no longer undertake his usual work. His blindness, my mother has cried tearfully at his side, was punishment upon her from God as a heathen and a witch. Yet even though he could see but shadows, my father would still recognize my touch and would demand in his earnest fashion that I read him scripts from prayers in the evenings, and teach Jesse to do thus after me. We became terribly poor without income-even with my field work, and could no longer afford to light our hearth in the coldest months of the years cycle or eat as well as before.
In his declining state my father took to spending what little we had at the local tavern on cheap wines and ales, and would come home almost every evening having spent our money and violently drunk.
With my father a shell of the man I knew before, it was my duty to my mother and strong as I tried, all the miniscule and pitiful jobs I did undertake, on a cold foreboding morn in November, my father passed quietly away into the dawn. That day I cared for my brother, now eight years of age, leaving my mother to grieve silently upon the bed my father had been taken from us within.
As the man of our family, I felt the job was mine alone to tell my innocent brother what had befallen us. So it was I took him to sit with me along the banks of the Oulu river, forsaking my thicker garments in his favour out into the crisp air that gnawed at my bone much as the loss of my father.
“Jesse,” I had said solemnly rumpling his brown hair, managing a brave face before taking an uneasy seat on the mud of the freezing bank “you’re the second eldest man of our home now, it is important you understand that we have to take care of Mama now”
He looked up at me in child-like question from a few feet away, having been throwing stones into the shallows from the icy bank previous. I began to exhale visible breath into my burning cupped palms, for the wind blew across the water without mercy for the lost boys upon it.
“Why was Mama crying, Willa? Where has Papa gone..” he puzzled, leaving his stones to sit besides me in the thick and unstable sediment. I looked into his small gleaming eyes and saw within them the likeness of the man who had left us to fend for ourselves, feeling hate towards my father for how he abandoned us both. Yet through my anger, my confusion I held strong to my composure for the sake and love of my little brother.
“Papa has gone now, Jesse” I swallowed determined not to shed tears “somewhere far away where he can be made to see again, and Mama misses him. That is why she was crying..”
Jesse’s face contorted in deep consideration of this, and with a very mature air he finally asked of me-
“But we will see him again, when he can see one day? And Mama will not cry anymore will she?” I smiled upon him and pulled him into my arm tightly, holding him against my heart as if he were the most precious of jewels and did not wish him to become anyone’s but mine.
“Yes,” I spoke finally treasuring his hand in my own to leave the filth and the sharpness of the stony river bank, and into the whiteness of the above “perhaps we shall”
In the coming months we fought in desperation to keep head above water, I would take to minding the fields from sunrise to set, and my poor and weary mother would lend her services as a seamstress and cleaner to the women of better expectations to earn barely enough for bread.
It was a hollow existence without my father around, yet I would not forgive what I could not forget. I no longer went to church, indeed I was almost glad to be rid of it, for the face of God was unforgiving and I felt no justice in the preachers proclamations of the Lords so called ‘love’ or the venom in the gaze of his sons.
It was not long before my own kind, gentle mother was driven into the ravishing of other men. She would arrive home weeping and badly beaten, tears far out numbering the coins the hideous dishonour brought us. I recall such an instance where Jesse was to bed, and together we lay by the warmth of a rare fire as she sobbed violently into my shoulder, arms around my neck I cradled her.
I would comfort her quietly as she poured what was left of her tired soul into me, for it was all I could offer her then. If I could have plucked out the pain I would have taken her sadness into me. She was my first love, and there was nothing I would not have done to save her, indeed save us all.
Yet it would soon come to pass, that I would offer up in sacrifice my greatest possession to save the lives of my broken family, my very freedom.
--------<3
Thanks one and all : ) jope you enjoy! next part asap.
Im going away for two week,but fear not-i shall be writing!
Comments are like huggles<3love to know if you liked it