Author's Note: Hello. Welcome to Bound by a Family Curse, a story that might seem like some kind of fairy tale but it's actually a pretty twisted, dark story. BbaFC was inspired by the old TV series Gargoyles. If you've seen the show then you might recall the connection Macbeth had with Demona. If you don't well.. Demona, the main female gargoyle, was linked to the main antagonist Macbeth by a curse placed upon them by the Weird Sisters, which were in the story three children of Oberon. Because of this odd connection I found myself wondering.. about such an interesting situation where.. if one is hurt.. the other gets the same effect. So I started to write this story. It's written in first person so instead of the typical way I write with 'he', 'she', 'they' it's written in 'I'. This is from the main female character's perspective as we follow her life.

This story is, at times, going to get pretty bad, so be warned; read at your own risk! By no means will some of the.. unruly parts be written out, only hinted at. I don't write that kind of story or heavily include it. This also isn't some sappy love story. This is the tale of two bound people who go through hell and back to survive. This story is completely original and crafted from the depths of my mind. I do hope you enjoy. It won't be updated often considering I'm currently working on Calming Storm, the Transformers 'fic I'm writing. Now, without further adieu, enjoy!

The cool winter breeze weaves through the streets, white powder coating the ground and buildings like a blanket. Dark clouds hid the sun and sheltered dark places with even more darkness. It was a scene depicted from a movie, starring famous actors that still managed to fail in rating. It was comically ironic, to say the least.

People say fairy tales and kingdoms, castles in the sky.. majestic and mythical creatures are all childish rubbish, meant to control a kid, direct their path to an adult's desire. I say they're wrong.

I was taught fairy tales were different. They were an escape, a dream, a fantasy meant to show our wildest wishes, our hope for a better future and also to guide us. Teaching a kid about honor spoke high volumes instead of teaching them to be thugs, liars, murderers.

While the concept of fairy tales may be impossible.. some things are here for a reason, even if that reason may be unknown. I use to think that we all had some kind of purpose that we had to solve, but what if a higher power created things that were meant to be just in spite? To say 'you cannot confine me, humans, to your belief on reality'?

Maybe I'm just crazy for thinking that.

I can't really talk though considering that's true. I come from a very powerful line of.. people with strong capabilities, but one very cruel punishment, a curse you could say.

We were bonded, connected, to someone of the opposite gender.. and you may think this is nice, a predestined 'marriage' to be made, but let me just tell you just how wrong that can be. You can't tell me it's 'cute' and 'so sweet' to have a 'mate', as they call it, who turns out to be a despicable person, an irrational psychopath who just wants to see the world burn for his own amusement.. or to rule said world. I don't know which would be more appealing to someone like him, but power, wealth and wisdom draw out the worst in some. He wasn't always like this, though, or so we thought.

In the past I believed, like others, of the gentle nature portrayed by my opposite. He played the part well, a manipulative bastard at best. He was cunning, with the brain capacity to outwit many, even several psychologist and proclaimed genius'. He soaked in information like a sponge to water. They say he was born with almost superior intellect. I call bullshit and say that a higher power made him for spite.

I can't really say how or when this 'curse' came into play in my family, but some try to justify that it started when we came over to America from Germany in the 1800s. Others say a far back relative was into witchcraft during the Salem Trials time and was betrayed by her family when they tried to burn her to dust at the word of her supposed love. The rest say it's a legend we can't comprehend and shouldn't try, it's not like we know how to break it or if we even can.

I was always intrigued by it, even before I was aware I had it. My father was connected to my mother and they got married during their late teenage years, but they had it easy. They were compatible. It also went to say neither were lunatics out to destroy or control everything. They were actually.. great people, but it's a shame what happened to them. You see.. my mother was killed in a car wreak when I was 15. There's something else about my family that I forgot to mention. The curse doesn't just connect people.. it gives them equality. What I mean by that is.. when one gets hurt, the other feels the pain, but when one dies.. you get the picture, right? I lost both within a short period. He had a 'heart attack' the doctors say as for the official report. I know differently.. and so does the rest of my family.

I have- had an older brother and a little sister. Richard and Diana. Sometimes the curse doesn't work or skips a member, like it did with Diana. She was blessed to be without a bond, free to choose her own love, her own life. Richard took her in since I was unable to care for her. He was like me, forced to be centered around someone, but fate couldn't have picked a better woman for him. She was pretty, smart, funny and her name was Laura.

Fate.. must have laughed at me when it joined me with Virgil. Oh, right, I must have lost my manners. I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Elizabeth Beldriva and my egocentric mate's name is Virgil Caprio. Perfect names, right? If only they matched us. I'm too.. isolated to fit mine while he is too dark to live up to such an honorable name. He's too evil, to put it simply.

As wonders all start I'll begin at the early days of my life, the first memories I truly recall with enough clarity to tell them correctly.

It was a wintry day in late November, the snow falling like rain around a large city. Traffic moved slowly as snow plows pushed back the powder like Moses parting the sea in the Bible. Wrecks were occurring off and on throughout this dreary of days.

Inside a small house near the outer rim was a child situated on the floor, feet spread apart, a coloring book placed before her. Yes, this was me. I was around three years old, a smart child for my age. My hand had moved a thin marker back and forth, red point mingling inside a circle shape. I had such a look of focus, of determination on my face. I had my tongue half sticking out, hair disheveled, sleeping clothes still worn.

"Elly!" The child's head, mine, perked up at the sound of Kyle's voice. That's my father's name. "Food is ready!" Contrary to belief my dad was always the cook and mom was a mechanic. Backward roles, I know. Dad wouldn't let mom cook because she couldn't judge correctly with ingredients and over-cooked.. or under-cooked stuff. Basically he did it better. Mom, on the other hand, was more skilled in the garage. Her father had been a designer of vehicles and worked with cars nearly daily. He taught his skills to his daughter, who was a natural.

I'm not like my parents. I'm no chef, no mechanic, hell I'm not even good with kitchen or garage stuff in general. I was.. strange. Richard mirrored mom's lifestyle as he grew up while I stayed in the shadows, ashamed that I was different. Why couldn't I be like mom or dad? I realized later that I wasn't so different. I had dad's patience, his precision, pride, his sense of direction while I also had mom's tenacity, her courage, motivation, drive and ability to connect with people. I also had her temper and dad's loving heart.

My little child body had rushed down the stairs, bare feet patting the creaky wooden floors before sliding across grey linoleum. I bounded up to the table, plopped down and grinned as mom blinked at me from the opposite side of the furniture piece. She wasn't staring at me for long before her green eyes fell to my hands.

She scowled, her tan face wrinkling with disapproval. "Young lady.. to the bathroom."

I had tilted my head, confused. She set down her cup of morning early grey tea and gestured a finger toward my hands, which were placed on the table's edge. I glanced down, realizing I had marker all over my fingers.

"Yes mom!" My little voice had chirped, hopping down and slinking off to the bathroom. A stool was situated before the sink and I climbed, barely tall enough to be just level with the base of the mirror. Warm water and some soap solved this marker problem before the hands were dried and that frame was once more seated at the table, awaiting food.

A plate was placed before me and I'd scarf it down like a wolf. Father had always said I had the table manners of a wild raccoon mixed with an angry squirrel. It just showed how much I loved dad's two-star cooking. He worked as a chef at a restaurant in this big city, a pretty popular place where it held respectable people who mostly came with family, for business meetings or events.

Mom worked as a mechanic and technician for an auto dealer of the middle and lower class pay-range. Nothing too fancy, but she found it more enjoyable to help those struggling along. Heavens knew they had plenty of money. Dad's dad was a very.. well known weapons designer just outside of the city. His work was high grade, incredibly sturdy, artistic and made his customers very happy campers. Through him we had plenty of money, so we were well off.

The doorbell rung twice before my mother had called out, her light voice carrying greatly with the knowledge of how to project it without having to be loud. "Missy, it's Rose!" Missy was my mom's name.

"Ah, ah! I'll be right there." She stood, pushing back her chair and walking to the door, which opened under her fingertips. "Good morning, Rose- and to you, Virgil."

"I had a favor to ask, if it wouldn't be too bothersome to ask." Rose's tone was hesitant and so I had turned around to see what was going on.

"Yes, what would that be? Anything after you gave my husband those two pound sacks of flour and sugar, Rose." My mom was way too sweet sometimes.

The tall older woman rested a hand atop a boy's shoulder that stood beside her. He was only like four or five years old. It was the first time I'd seen him. He seemed.. shy. "Can you be a dear and watch Virgil for the day? I have business a couple hours away and will be gone until sometime during the night."

"How about he just stay the night? That'd be easier than waking him if he's asleep when you get home." My mom had such good reasoning, she knew what logic to apply and when.

Rose nodded. "That would be fine." She lifted a bag sitting just outside the door and handed it to Missy. "Here are some things he'll need for the day. Everything you need to handle him is in there. He won't be too much trouble I hope."

"Not at all." Mom accepted the bag and herded Virgil inside, waving to Rose as she departed. The door clicked shut and mom placed the bag beside the couch. "You hungry?" She asked, looking to the young silver-haired boy who had dim golden-blue eyes.

He gave a half smile, nodding slowly. "Mum was in a hurry, so I didn't get to eat. Breakfast?"

Missy chuckled. "Indeed. Bacon, eggs, toast and tomatoes."

He followed her into the kitchen before honing in on me. Our eyes met. My blue eyes had studied him intently while he did the same to me. I noticed how well behaved we were.

Dad set a full plate in front of the boy and he paused when he saw us eye-locked. "Ah, Elizabeth, I'd like you to meet Rose's son Virgil. You remember Rose, yes? The writer?"

I had shook my head. I didn't recognize the names nor the faces.

"Well, she used to watch you when your mother and I were busy with our jobs during those extremely busy and.. pushy years." Dad explained, half smiling.

"I do faintly recall a black-haired girl staying with us often." Virgil mused, his attitude far exceeding his child frame.

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes before I finished what was left on my plate.

That had been my first encounter with my 'mate'. He had seemed polite, reserved, but clever. I mimicked him in a way: I too was intelligent, but also playful and gentle. I had spirit and will, while he had strength and power. This became evident as we grew up together, our lives mingling often. Mom had secretly gossiped with Rose about how we'd 'make a cute couple' when we got older and that we 'complimented the other'. They were apparently shipping us together since we were young.

At the time it was true. I grew up slowly coming to like him. He was becoming a good friend, driven, dedicated and funny. I thought maybe.. we'd grow up, happy, in love, together and being like my mom and dad had; working for a living, earning what we got, celebrating, partying, dancing, hugging.. kissing even. We'd get married, have some kids, be at peace.. but how wrong my childish delusion was.

We hung out a lot as we changed from toddlers to kids.. I was around seven when little Diana was born. Richard was a loner for most of the time. We did stuff together, but.. not when Virgil was around. It was as if he knew the young male's true personality.

Virgil and I slowly aged into preteens and then early teenagers. Nothing too special or of interest really happened until I was 13. We attended the same schools, similar classes, same lunch time. There was.. a conflict that broke out at lunch. It was the incident of which I first saw how scary he could be. An upperclassman, a daring prep, figured it amusing to make fun of and humiliate me and so tossed a small carton of strawberry milk at my back. I was unaware, but when the box broke and the liquid spilled all over me I froze like a deer in headlights.

I didn't have time to react and yet across the room Virgil stood up, golden-blue orbs narrowed within a reddening face, lips set into a bare-toothed snarl. I turned to see what was going on. He strolled over, his movement precise, his body tensed. He leaked intimidation from his very walk, his twisted face an added addition. The female, and her friends, had sunk down into their seats, eyes wide, still as statues while all eyes locked on this scene. No one spoke. It was eerily quiet.

He stopped before the prep, half crouching on bending legs, wrists placed upon knees. His lips sealed shut momentarily before slowly opening, a growling bit to his low voice. "Now why on earth.. would you do something as rude as what you did.. to a classmate that you should be friends with, hm?" He oozed controlled anger.

"I- I-..." The female, Rebecca or some sort was her name, stuttered for an excuse, but her mind had clearly went blank.

His lips tilted up into a smirk. "As dumb as you are blonde. All body and no brains. I'm not surprised." He said irritably, anger subsiding visibly. "You will step before Elizabeth, apologize, and turn yourself in to the principal. If not.." A hand was lifted, a finger dangerously trailing along the skin beneath her chin before tilting the head up. "You might not enjoy how I respond." He grabbed her chin for a second then pushed her back, a dark glare set upon his face. He walked over to me, standing beside me with his arms folded expectantly.

She came over slowly, shivering in fear of this male at my side. "I'm s-sorry.. I don't know.. what I was t-thinking Elizabeth."

I was too shocked to really say much but I said, "It's fine", blankly. She retreated to her friends, low whispers filling the cafeteria. Her gang of preps fled from the table and into the principal's office.

He scowled before turning on his heels to face me while I had simply stood, milk dripping from me.

He grabbed my arm, gently, and guided me down the hall just out of sight toward the bathroom, uncaring that eyes followed us.

He pushed me into a bathroom, scanning how much damage had been done before turning to exit the bathroom. He had apparently ran to his current class, searching through his backpack for a spare shirt and sweat pants he always carried. He rushed back to the bathroom, lady's mind you, and entered to find me gripping the sink, crying my eyes out.

"Hey, hey.." He said softly, face split into a deep frown, eyes seemingly worried. "It's ok now, don't cry." I didn't look up. "Here." He walked over, holding out his arm to offer the shirt and pants. I finally looked up at them before to him, wiping at my face.

"T-thanks.." I took them, slipping into a stall to change. It wasn't long before I was walking out, timidly tugging at the slightly bigger shirt. Virgil was taller than I, even for his age. I was only around five foot while he was five foot four.

"It'll be acceptable for the day. If anyone else dares to pick on you do not hesitate to call upon me, Eliza." He said my nickname with warmth. "Though I suspect they won't, at least for awhile." He gave a chuckle. The bell for lunch rang. "I'll tend to the trays. You head on to class." I wordlessly nodded, unable to really speak yet. "Hey now.." He must have noted how shaken I was- though he didn't know it wasn't because of Rebecca's action.. but how furious he had been. He scared me.

He moved up to stand at my front, his hands shifting to rest on my hips as if he figured it would comfort me.

"Eliza.." He whispered. This wasn't just the first time I'd seen him mad.. it was our first kiss. He drew me in for what seemed to be a small hug, but when he directed my head up with a hand and met my lips with his own I knew differently. We shared our first kiss in the girl's bathroom at our middle school after a lunch incident. How 'romantic'.

The school day skipped by in a daze and not long after I was on the bus, heading home. I noticed that Virgil sat in the back with some upper kids, laughing at whatever joke one said. He leveled his gaze to mine and smiled. A push from a hand forced his attention back to his friends while I stared out the window once more.

The year passed in relative silence. People skirted me, fearful of my 'guardian' who seemed to linger just close enough to keep people behaved and yet far enough to leave me be. I had my own group of friends anyway.

I remember it was nearing the end of my 8th grade year, the year of which said incident happened, when my friend Andrea approached me while I was walking down the hallway. Just beyond was Virgil standing by the art class door with two of his male friends. She leaned close, a playful smirk on her face, and whispered, "You two should date, Liz." Andrea's a redhead that's a hair taller than I, makeup, with deep black-outlined green eyes.

She received an elbow from me and a sharp, clear glare.

"Whattt?!" She hissed, rubbing her side. "He's kinda hot and I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks he's not being watched." I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Liz."

Yeah, I liked him, but.. part of me was terrified of him since that milk day.

"No thanks."

"Liz, ask him or I will for you." When she said this I made my hands tighten into fists. I stopped, giving her the darkest stare I could muster toward my dearest best friend.

"Don't you dare." I ground out between clenched teeth.

"Fine, fine!" She stood before me, hands on her slim hips, a pout flashing with fake moisture in the eyes for emphasis.

"You're going to mess up your mascara." I snorted.

"But seriously Liz.. he's delicious. Someone might come along.." She lifted a hand, fingers curling down slowly. "..and snatch him out from under you." She giggled, hand closed now. She lowered the limb, bouncing on her ballet shoes. She was a natural gymnast and in the school's program for such a sport.

I looked over, to see what Virgil was doing, and realized his friends had left him alone. He was leaning against the wall, watching us with a blank face.

"Ohhh!" Andrea's voice was in my ear. "He's looking this way. Go talk to him." She gave me a rough shove and I almost tumbled into the tiled floor, but hands caught me. Virgil had slid forward to once more keep me from harm's way, this time of my own devices.

I looked at his fingers and settled my gaze on him. His hands remained on my arms even after I had my balance back. "Umm.. I'm ok, you can let go." He came to his senses and pulled his hands away.

"Sorry, I was just.. captivated by your eyes. I've never noticed how dark they are." He said, gesturing a finger toward my blue hues, though his eyes weren't on mine, they were a bit lower.

I exhaled indignantly. "You were looking at my eyes, uh huh. Right. I'll believe that when pigs fly. You weren't staring at my eyes.. you were looking at my lips." I rolled my eyes, stepping away to cross my arms.

He half-smiled. "What can I say? I liked our first kiss." He said in reference to the bathroom scene half a school year ago.

"I'm not interested in you." I said though we both knew it was a lie. I knew we were connected.. and he felt it too. Dad sat us both down and told us of our bond, making Virgil aware of it. This had been two years before, 6th grade.

"Well perhaps I am, in you." Without realizing it I had taken steps back, right into a wall. He stood before me, a hand placed beside my left shoulder, head bent to be of equal height with my own.

I was, thankfully, saved by the bell. He closed his eyes, growling a sigh before moving away toward his class. I quickly left to my own.