Hey! I'm really excited for this story! It's definitely different from the mainstream of fanfics, especially because I'm pretty sure no one else has written a Jesse Zeklos story. :) Even though this is very original and different, I hope people give it a chance and read it! I'm looking forward to it, anyway. If you have any questions and want to know anything particular about this story, feel free to PM or just review and I'll get back to you! I'm going to attempt to write two stories at once, so please bare with me! Thanks for reading! xx
Billie
The private driver was withdrawn and definitely not friendly enough to participate in small talk with me, which made the drive from the airport extremely dull. I fidgeted and tapped on the window rhythmically until the driver sent me warning glares, and I stopped reluctantly.
I'd opted to finally fish my iPod out of my bag and plug in my earphones, and let the music bounce in my ears loudly. I closed my eyes, hoping to catch at least some sort of sleep before I arrived at the Badicas. I rested my temple against the card door window, singing along to the lyrics in my head, deciding it was best not to annoy the driver any more than I already had. The roads were smooth and the sleek car drove with ease across the bitumen.
"Miss Schoenberg!" The driver snapped irritably, his eyes blazing with impatience once I'd laid my sleepy gaze on him. I had a feeling he'd been trying to get my attention for a while. I grinned sheepishly, and pulled one earphone out, letting it hang down by waist lifelessly.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, and pushed open the car door. "Thanks, driver," I appreciatively told the man, not having remembered his name from when he introduced himself at the airport. He just rolled his eyes, nodding. I slammed the door shut and slung my overnight, duffle bag over my shoulder casually. I gave the driver a sloppy wave, and faced the luxuriously one-story rambler style house. It was built with grey wood sidings, tinted bay windows. I squinted at the thickly-layered snow-covered path and driveway. Obviously, everyone was too lazy to shovel the compacted snow out of the front yard. I frowned, glancing up at the high, glowing moon. The Badicas lived on a nocturnal schedule; they would either be inside awake, or gone to town to take care of any needed business. I inspected the many footprint tracks in the snow, and paused curiously. They all appeared quite fresh.
A blood-curdling scream echoed loudly from inside the house, and my stomach clenched in horror.
I spun around frantically, but the driver had already long disappeared during my inspection of the house. I threw my bag off my shoulder, and sprinted along the snow-covered path towards the front door, my breaths escaping my parted lips in wild clouds. The door was slightly ajar, and I was about to barge through, but instead I halted, calming my panicked breaths, and slowly pushed open the door, each movement carried out with precise quiet grace. My eyes blurred with scared tears, and I hastily blinked them away, moulding my posture into one of a warrior. I needed to be strong. It's what I'd been trained for since I was a tiny child. I was going to be a Guardian – this was my first incident, even if I technically wasn't a promised Guardian yet. It didn't matter, not now.
I crept down the carpeted hall, my back pressing against the walls as I went. I surveyed the rooms as I went, making sure they were clear. Realistically, my mind was reeling with horror, because I was completely defenceless. I had no weapons, no stake, or anything to distract the attackers with. I reached the living room, where the loud noises were coming from.
My heart plummeted. My father stood, his stance strong and powerful as he fought off two Strigoi at once, his face stoic and determined. He looked hopeless though. His eyes glowed with discreetly hidden defeat. He thought he was going to lose.
It was the first time I'd ever seen Strigoi. Their invisible auras pulsed with cold callousness, and their eyes were ringed with crimson red. Chalky pale hands attacked my father, and my heart inflated like a balloon – a balloon of fierce steel.
They hadn't noticed me yet, too distracted by their battle with my father. I narrowed my eyes and clenched my fists, before attacking the closest Strigoi, my fist swinging powerfully into his cleared stomach. He blinked, surprised by my sudden appearance. I glared at him, and sharply threw my closed fist towards him again. I'd never fought a Strigoi before, and I'd clearly underestimated their true strength and speed. He seemed invincible, and caught my wrist easily, grinning maliciously at me.
"Well, well… What do we have here?" In a blur, he twisted me around, so my back was pressed against his chest. A chill ran down my back like icy water, and I trembled. He bent his mouth down by my ear, and brushed my hair away from my neck, exposing my collarbone. I shivered in terror as his heartless chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating on my back. "Arnold Schoenberg's little girl has come to save the day." A tear escaped the corner of my eye, but I didn't acknowledge the salty substance as my life was dangled right before my eyes. I was going to die. I wasn't going to get to even say hello to my papa. Pathetically, my tear clung to my jaw, not parting from my skin.
Suddenly, a newfound strength, one full of adrenaline force and determination, pulsed through my blood. My eyes blazed with fierce power, a power that I'd inherited from my father. I was going to make him proud; I was going to show him how good I was. I couldn't just curl up and cry. I was a Guardian. I was going to fight like one too.
My teeth gritting, I forced my elbow into his stomach, and drew my knee to my stomach, before I threw the sole of my foot backwards with a grunt, slamming it into his kneecap. He flinched behind me, and I tore myself free from his grip.
"Billie!" My father cried out, and quickly threw his silver stake towards me. I didn't have time to catch it though, and the Strigoi advanced towards me in a blur. His hands stretched towards my neck, and I ducked swiftly, ramming my fist into his stomach for the second time, my body crouched underneath his. He closed down over top of me, his arms wrapping around my waist. I grunted through my clenched teeth, and knocked the crown of my head into his jaw violently. I rolled out underneath him, reaching for the stake that was inches from my fingertips. But the Strigoi recovered quickly, and he slammed the sole of his boot on my wrist, making me cry out in agony as the bone snapped audibly underneath his foot. My eyes pinched together in pain as the Strigoi tilted his head back and laughed, the sound rough and cold. My feet were free, though, and my abs clenched tightly as I drew up one foot, hooking it around the back of his knee, and I used the other to smash it into his crotch. I drew my foot back and went to hit again, but his fingers caught my dirtied, slippery boot, curling around the leather material. Quite easily, I managed to rip my slippery shoe from his hand, and I swung it around into his leg that was still atop my wrist, twisting my body around to add force behind the attack. He leaned down, his eyes raging dangerously, and he grabbed a handful of my hair. I took hold of the opportunity, and pulled the tip of my boot high above my head, and hit the Strigoi in the throat forcefully. He gargled for a split moment, loosening his hold on my golden blonde hair. I slammed my elbow on his forearm, and squirmed to reached for the stake as he lowered himself on top of me, an evil, merciless glint in his sinister eyes. My fingers stretched for the silver stake, but it was barely an inch from the tips of my fingers. I shivered in dread as his lips closed in on the skin of my exposed neck. He pushed strands of my hair from my neck, and inhaled deeply, his icy lips still pressed on my neck.
"You smell delectable," he murmured, his voice still cold. "Nearly as good as a Moroi, I bet…" He bared his fangs, the sharp teeth only gently piercing my skin, brushing along my neckline. A chill washed through my entire body in revulsion, and my fingers continued stretching for the stake, until I finally found the cool silver object. The Strigoi plunged his fangs deep, and I let out a cry of pure agony as the pain sunk in. My mouth opened wide, and my eyes squeezed shut in torture, a tear slipping out the corner. I drew in a gasped breath, and curled my fingers around the stake, and in one thorough effort, I drove the stake into his back. Frantic to reach his heart before he moved, I cried out as I pushed it in further, throwing more strength behind it as I manoeuvred it through his muscle and spine. Grunting, I pushed again, and the stake finally hit his heart. His eyes widened as he gasped in pain, his mouth dripping with blood. My blood.
His lifeless body collapsed on top of me, and I groaned as I pushed the heavy weight off me, not wasting time in climbing back to my feet. I hissed in pain as my wrist thrummed in distress. Gritting my teeth, I looked to my father, who was still standing his ground against the Strigoi, but the more weak my father got, the more bored the Strigoi seemed to get.
I reached down the rip the stake from my killed Strigoi's back, grasping it tightly in my closed palm. I advanced towards my father and his Strigoi, until suddenly I was grabbed roughly from behind. I cried out loudly as my wrist was tugged violently. Tears flowed down my cheeks, and my heart was pumping in my ears. Both my wrists were bound behind my back, and the chilly breath of a Strigoi was blown on my bloody, damaged neck.
I didn't waste time in standing captive in this undead's man hold, and I grounded my teeth together, bracing myself for the pain I anticipated was going to come. I threw my head back, smashing it into the shorter Strigoi's nose. He fumbled slightly, and I twisted around, still miraculously holding onto my bloodied stake in a deathgrip. Unable to stake him yet, not having the right opening, I grazed the stake on his arm, and he hissed ravenously. I narrowed my eyes and drew the stake back, before plunging it into his throat. He spluttered a violent roar, his body rumbling in pain. I pulled the stake out, and shoved the weakened Strigoi against the wall, the force making the mounted framed pictures shudder. I swiftly threw myself into the Strigoi, planting the stake directly into his chest. Grunting in high discomfort as my wrist burned with agony, I shoved again, pushing the stake in further and twisting around the ribs and muscles until I pierced his heart. He bellowed deafeningly, before he collapsed to the ground.
I barely had a moment to blink, and already another Strigoi grasped me, and threw me into the glass coffee table. I stumbled forward, and I crashed into the table, falling to my knees under the impact and scraping my jaw along the jagged glass. I was barely a foot from the Strigoi who was fighting my father, and my father barely seemed to be holding on. The Strigoi had obviously been a dhampir before he was awakened, and he had been a damn good one. His techniques and skills were impeccable. Tears still flowed down my cheeks, and merged with the heavy blood stream. My knotted hair was suddenly yanked harshly, and I cried out as I was wrenched to my feet once more.
"How would you like to see your own father die?" The Strigoi hissed in my ear with sick humour. "I bet you're a daddy's girl, hm?" The Strigoi chuckled. "It's your fault, you know, you can't even protect your own father from dying."
Tears silently flooded my cheeks continuously, soaking my face. The Strigoi had his elbow hooked around my throat, barely letting me breath. His other arm was hoisting my arms behind my back, locking them in place firmly. I tugged and squirmed, but it was completely invalid. I was growing weak, I didn't have enough strength and my adrenaline was draining.
My father was literally like poetry in motion, even when he was weakened and tired. He moved with indescribable grace and attacked and blocked perfectly. He had thrown me his stake, but he had another one in his belt, which he'd tried to retrieve, but it had been batted across the living room by his Strigoi. My father ducked, and landed a blow in the Strigoi's stomach. The Strigoi took advantage of the position my father was in, below him, and wrapped his slick long fingers around my father's throat, making him choke and gasp for breath. He tried to wrench from the hold, but like me, he was tired, and the Strigoi surged his fist into my father's abdominal, making him gasp and falter.
My knees buckled in horror. He faltered.
The Strigoi was almost like a blur, and he bared his fangs with sickening enjoyment. Before I could even blink, he sunk his fangs into my father, drinking his blood. My father's eyes were wide in terrified shock. His eyes met mine, over the Strigoi's shoulder.
"No!" I screamed, my voice high-pitched and penetrating the air. "Papa!" I cried, struggling in the Strigoi's arms. I squirmed and flailed, writhing in his grasp. Tears streaked down my reddened cheeks faster, speeding as I grew more hysterical.
"This is your fault," the Strigoi whispered in my ear, and I choked on my cries, crumbling.
"You can have me! Take me!" I screamed, thrashing. "Take me."
"No, little Schoenberg," the Strigoi breathed coldly, while the Strigoi feeding on my father didn't acknowledge me. "You're mine." I screamed again, my throat raw and aching.
"No! Papa…" My voice broke into a crumpled whisper, and my body shook brutally.
My eyes were set on my father's like concrete, and he stared back, his eyelids weighing down heavily. His arms were hanging loosely by his sides, and the Strigoi was the only thing keeping him on his feet. His parted lips weakly mouthed something to me, but I couldn't decipher his message, and more hot tears rolled down my face. His eyes closed again, and he mouthed it once more.
I love you, he mouthed.
He didn't open his eyes again.
The Strigoi pulled back from his neck, and carelessly dropped his body. He turned towards us casually, waving his hand in a gesture.
"Hurry up, Gregory, the others have already left," he informed the Strigoi clutching me.
I stared at him, and then I opened my mouth to scream, but instead of hysterical noises, I vomited all over my father's murderer. The retched substance splattered over his chest and splashed on his chin, before wetly trailing down his shirt and onto his pants.
His nostrils flared in rage, and he stepped towards me.
"If you don't take care of this stupid bitch, Gregory, I will do it myself."
I inwardly smirked at the opportunity he gave me, and immediately grasped it, and threw my foot up, squarely hitting him in the crotch. I twisted around in Gregory's arms, and elbowed him in the face. He flinched, and I elbowed him again, before punching him in the throat. He snarled in fury, but I ducked from his blow, and punched him in the groin before crawling over to the other Strigoi's body, which was still impaled by my stake. As I ripped the object from his chest, a hand seized hold of my ankle, and I didn't make a sound as I swung my other leg around and knocked it strongly into Gregory's face. He loosened his grip, and I wrenched my ankle from his grip, climbing to me feet and lunging towards him, plunging the stake straight into his heart. My eyes blazing fiercely with willpower and grit, I only pushed the stake once more and it punctured his heart. I didn't look at him again, and I didn't have the chance to when the last Strigoi shoved Gregory's body several feet away before I could pull my stake from his body. My eyes widened, and the Strigoi looked at me with a sinful gaze.
"I'm sorry about your father," he told me, and then a cruel grin grew on his face. "I'm sure you want to bravely avenge his death, though. Go ahead." He smirked and spread his arms out, giving me a clear view of his chest. His vomit-covered chest.
I didn't attack him though – that would have been useless, because I was weapon less. I didn't have time to stop and pulled out the stake in Gregory's heart, because I could very easily be killed with turning my back like that. I looked around helplessly, discreetly not moving my head as I gazed around at my surroundings. A plan quickly unfolded and formed in my mind, and I began slowly retreating towards the wall, pressing my back against it. The Strigoi just laughed tauntingly.
"Giving up already?" He chuckled. "How disappointed and disgusted your father will be… Tut tut." He smirked predatorily, moving towards me gradually. I gritted my teeth, and he took another step close, only a foot away.
I lurched into action, reaching up above my head and tearing the framed picture off the wall, and swinging it into the Strigoi's face, creating a distraction. I squarely punched him in the face and kicked him in the groin for good measure, before I ran. I sprinted into the kitchen, ripping open the drawers and hurriedly searching through them. I caught sight of a large butcher knife on the bench, in a wooden knife block. I ripped it out of the block and swung around, and screamed when I found the Strigoi standing behind me, his mouth twisted in a nasty smirk.
"Nice effect," he drawled, and I drew the knife from behind my back, aiming to stab him in the throat. He snarled and grabbed my forearm, blocking the attack. His eyes narrowed into slits and he squeezed my arm tightly until the knife fell from my grasp while I cried out. I shrank down, pushing myself as far from him as possible as he glared wickedly at me.
I grounded my teeth together and flashed the other knife I'd gotten from the drawer, and stabbed him in the arm. He blanched and retracted his tight grip. I ducked and grabbed the butcher knife, and stood up, positioning quickly in a powerful stance, before I swung the knife around and sliced through his neck. I grunted and drew up my leg before launching it into his stomach and knocking him back into the archway of the kitchen.
"You killed my father," I breathed. I didn't say one more word as I continued working the sharp butcher knife through his neck, as he roared and writhed. I sent blowed to his stomach continuously and made sure the knife in his arm stayed there. I withdrew the butcher knife, before plunging it directly through the middle of his throat, straight through his spinal cord. I clenched my jaw and stabbed him repeatedly in the neck, hysteric.
He spluttered and choked up clots of blood, which landed on the front of my torn and bloodied jacket.
I cried out as I ploughed the knife through his throat, until he buckled and slid down to the ground. I shook with violent tremors, and let out a gut-wrenching sob as his head completely parted from the rest of his body, and rolled down his front, landing on the kitchen floor. I trembled profoundly, and the butcher knife slipped from his loosely clasping fingers, and clattered on the floor. My knees distorted feebly, and I gripped the blood-stained archway so I didn't fall.
I stared down at the decapitated Strigoi corpse, my body wracking with quakes.
I turned away, and pressed my palm against the walls for support as I made my way back into the living room, where the pale blue carpet was stained with splatters of blood. I noticed the other bodies that scattered around the house, ones that I hadn't had time to study when I first entered.
Everyone was dead.
I pushed along the back of the couch, and then I found sight of my father's body lying lifelessly, his bloodied neck having stained the carpet.
My eyes were contorted with emotion, emotion that was fighting to break free and be let loose. My father's golden blonde hair, like my own, had grey streaks, but was red with dried blood. His clothes were spattered with crimson stains. His neck was ripped and torn, still bleeding after the Strigoi had drained him.
The longer I stared and looked at my father's fresh dead body, the more quivers that took control of my body. My chapped lips parted, silently, and my eyes began blinking feverously, making my bruised left eyelid ache tenderly, trying to get rid of the stinging tears. My knees were buckling weakly. My lips parted wider, and suddenly, the wild emotions erupted.
A blood-curdling sob wrenched from my lunges, and I fell to my knees beside my father's body. Shaking violently, I bent and sobbed. Tears streaked my cheeks hotly, the salty wetness mounting my lips before falling into my parted mouth. I cried out hysterically, pulling my father's body onto my lap, not even caring at all about the blood that immediately blemished my jeans. I wept loudly, shakily running my red-stained fingers through his golden locks. He was such a handsome man. He was known as a world-class legend as a Guardian, and even well after his prime, he was an invincible force to be reckoned with. Until now. My fingertips lightly brushed across his scarred face, which ran across his cheekbones, jawline and his forehead, one cutting through and scarring his eyebrow. His scars completed him – they made him who he was. They showed people how powerful and strong he was. My tears splashed on his paled face, and rolled down his cold cheeks.
I gave another helpless, tortured scream, burying my face in my father's unbitten side of his neck, sobbing.
I leaned against the couch, clutching my father's unmoving body in my arms as I closed my eyes with exhausted. I was so… so tired.
I had a feeling I fell asleep, still sobbing in my unconscious state, rocking my father's body in my arms. My heated cheeks pressed against his, my arms curled around his body with hysterical protectiveness. I'd let him down – I couldn't protect him, I couldn't protect anyone. This was my fault. All of it.
How disappointed and disgusted your father will be…
How'd you like it? It's pretty much complete action, and I liked writing it and imagining it all in my mind, it was pretty badass, haha. Please review, favourite, follow, etc... Even a smiley face or anything will satify me! Next chapter should be up soon, I'm a pretty fast uploader, so you're all lucky! Feel free to also check out my other story, Beneath The Surface, which is in progress and I'm really enjoying it. Both these stories are looking great so far, I'm lovin' them! :D thanks xx