Hello there :) This is the first chapter in a series of glimpses into the lives of the people who make up LXG as well as some original characters of my own creation (unless clearly specified.) This is not meant to be canon and I am not Allan Moore, Kevin O'neil, nor any other Victorian author whose character(s) may have been represented by the graphic novels/movie by these men. These snippets will range from PG13 to Mature in rating. They will be considered everything from General to Dark Fic to Romance, et al.
Chapter One: Tossing and Turning
PG13
Summary: What is Mina scared of ?
He was in her room and looking down at her sleeping form before she even knew the asylum walls had been breached. It was supposed to be safe here; that was why Jonathan and the others had insisted she stay behind. "Lock the door behind you. We will return shortly." A kiss and her husband was gone.
His ancient eyes were a deep red as he watched her with a mixture of fury and pity. The tears had dried on his deathless cheeks and it seemed he was in no mood to wash them away. No crosses, no weapon, in a building full of madmen: there was no one who could help her and he knew it.
"You have no one to blame but yourself." He spoke words meant for the men desecrating his bed as he forced his way on top of her.
He made her like it when his teeth penetrated her throat and made her like it when he forced his own blood into her slack mouth. His laugh was short and bitter, and he quietly informed her with dark intent that this humiliation was what he wanted most: it eased the pain of Lucy's murder. Somewhat.
And his smile was so sharp and wide in front of her entranced blue eyes. She knew something was wrong but at the moment...
Mina woke up with a start, untangling her fingers clenched in a stranglehold in the red velvet around her neck. She reached up absentmindedly to touch the cold sweat that would not show itself—not now, not ever—on her smooth forehead, and slowly sank back onto the sheets.
She lay there blinking for a few moments, which stretched into an hour, before pulling her thick green quilt high around her shoulders. Jonathan's desk still stood in the corner, now empty. Her vanity was as orderly as ever. The room was all white and blue wallpaper and every little thing was in its place.
She wondered if her mind was as rearrange-able as the furniture
