Soul Pain
The precious grave screamed desecration from the gapping hole and carelessly piled mounds of freshly dug dirt. The weathered headstone listed to one side, a drunken guard with nothing left to watch. Rot and decay, pure in their secret hideousness, lay despoiled for all prying eyes to gaze upon. Thick, pink worms wriggled in agitation among the upset earth.
Terror, horror and apprehension clutched my silent heart. I knelt beside the upturned soil and gazed into the blasphemous wound. It dwelled in silent sorrow, forever to display the vile rape upon the sanctity of its contents.
"Kain." The ragged curse of a name lacerated my mind with the implications of the pillaged gravesite. A timeless, boundless enmity welled up to rip me apart. He had stolen the fleshless, lifeless bones of Tanim to make another accursed child, a dark daughter this time.
Was it not enough that I had destroyed the woman I loved? Was even the oblivion of death to be denied her tortured soul? The death of my past self by my future self's hands had condemned us both. I had been reborn into a vile state of limbo while she extinguished her own life, or had tried. The ruin of her grave proved her actions futile. Fate wouldn't allow her peace for her sin of loving me without condition or regard.
Rage and guilt goaded my body into motion. The mind-shattering knowledge of the sacrilegious ritual to be performed upon her unwilling bones spurred me to greater speed. I knew where my malicious creator had taken her, even as I knew I would not make it in time.
Destiny was about to deal another card into my deck of fate. The cycle of my own damnation had come to this crossroads. My cursed love would be brought back into an unwilling existence; an existence she had forfeited with her own mad hand. At every turn I brought her agonizing misery and yet I could not have done otherwise. Perhaps this was destiny's revenge for my impertinent trespasses and my desire to break free of the set course.
The doors of the crumbling Sarafan fortress burst with the power of my fury and I charged inward. I knew no other thing than the urgency, the overwhelming necessity of preventing Kain from realizing his plan. If nothing else, I would let her tortured spirit remain free of any earthly chains of flesh. I would not allow her to be damned in the same manner as myself had been.
"Kain!" I threw myself upon the unyielding metal of the final obstacle between my love and myself. The loathsome wretch turned towards me with a bitter and triumphant smile.
"Raziel, have you come to stop me?" he asked with mild curiosity and copious amounts of cold amusement.
"Leave her be, Kain. If you try and—"
"It is too late, boy. I have tried and I have succeeded." He gestured behind him to the silent ghost standing there. She stood there.
A wrenching, guilt-filled love surged through my emaciated body at the glorious and horrifying sight. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in unkempt waves, her traditional braid gone. Tired purple eyes regarded me with some unfathomable light. Pale, perfect and dead, she stood before me, beyond my reach, and no recognition greeted me.
"You've…" The pained words died before they could be aired. He had done it, damn him. "Why? Why must she be tortured?"
"You sound weak, Raziel. This is no time for weakness." Her eyes moved towards him as if compelled. I dimly recalled the power in his voice upon my first awakening as a vampire. His words had held a pull similar to Tanim's, yet hers held no magic.
"How dare you defile this woman in this way. What madness coerced you into perpetrating this? Answer me, Kain!" I roared, shaking the solid gate between us.
"Fate." He laughed coldly and ushered her forward. She obeyed with helpless acquiescence.
"Fate?"
"Indeed. It is that great destroyer of lives that brought us to this outcome. The reshuffling of our cards brought us to this. I am playing this role because some things must be done in order to prevent other things. For once I shall play the willing pawn, but at least I will know that."
"That is no excuse. Damn you."
"That has already been done."
"Who…" her quiet voice silenced our argument. Tanim, gentle, sweet ghost of a woman, looked down at the decaying tatters of cloth covering her pale body and then back up at Kain. Her tired eyes, still the same as my painful memory, regarded him with the awe and fear of a devote worshiper. He was her god.
"Yes?" the wretch prompted with surprising gentleness. Who would have known he could ever conceive such a tender tone of voice?
"Who am I?"
* * *
Okay, I know I said I wasn't going to write a sequel anytime soon, but, obviously, I lied. I'm sorry. So here it is the continuation of this sad story arc. Please review with your views.
Sorry for the shortness of this first chapter, the rest will be longer.