WOW! Look!! The fourth chapter! Short, I know. But things were getting a little difficult. Good news though. I finally got a new laptop and I can start writing again without moving around all the time.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far, and I hope you will keep it up, and I also hope you will enjoy this new chapter. Also great thanks to my beta. Without her this wouldn't have been up for another month 8D
Down in the entrance hall Marluxia had occasionally noticed a small wooden door. It was old and worn, and the wood had turned a light grey colour as if it had endured decades of water damage.
Marluxia tried the rusty handle, which was worn down so the delicate decorations that had once adorned it were almost gone.
If this was not the door to the basement, nothing was. With a loud squeak the door swung open on a small crack. A wave of damp, warm air rose from the darkness inside, accompanied by the too-sweet smell of rot and mould. Marluxia thought he would throw up. He had to walk a few rounds around the entrance hall to collect himself before even trying to force the door open. The latches were obviously as rusty as the handle, for Marluxia had to use all his might to push the door open the last bit.
Finally the crack was large enough for him to get through, and so he took a deep breath and slipped into the dark. He could barely breathe in the thick, moist air and left the door open so he would be able to get as much ventilation from the entrance hall as possible. Marluxia felt his way forward in the darkness with his foot, discovering that the floor was made of earth, and he seemed to be on the top of a stair.
He placed a hand on the wall for support as he descended. Now and then his fingers brushed against what could only be large roots. It was impossible to see, and as he slowly ventured further down into the tunnel the air got thicker and thicker too. He felt his supper had caught in his throat, threatening with a comeback. Still his curiosity forced him on. He had to know what Clair had seen, what had scared her so. Slowly his eyes became more and more used to the dark. Or was it a light there ahead of him?
All of a sudden he noticed a faint buzzing, increasing in volume as he went further. He was feeling light headed at the lack of air now, but the stairs kept leading him further down for what seemed like an eternity, and the buzzing kept increasing. It sounded like flies... What on earth was Vexen hiding down here?
He did have a faint idea, still idea was even more sickening than the chocking thick air and he refused to think about it.
The tunnel was taking a turn now, and before he knew it he was standing on flat ground at the bottom of the stairs. He could see a flickering light from around a corner, would have taking a relieved breath if his head wasn't already swimming in a daze from the lack of oxygen. He could finally see where he was walking now as the light came closer and his wet, dirty hands had abandoned the wall to hang limply at his sides.
The sound of the flies was close to unbearable now. It sounded like they were hundreds, maybe even thousands.
Odd... Where would the flies come from in such a secluded place? There were no ventilation of any sort, and he had never seen anything living up in the castle. There had to be some other way out. He would keep that in mind. He would rather avoid having to walk those stairs again. He was probably several kilometres underneath the entrance hall.
By now he had reached what seemed to be the junction of the basement. The tunnel had led him to a large circular room with low ceiling and a torch burning in the middle. There were four doors along the wall, and a tunnel opening between each of them. Marluxia had emerged from one of these.
Each door was made with thin metal and had a window, dirt and spider web obscuring them.
His eyes shifted to a dark spot on one of the doors and he blanched.
Blood.
It had to be.
He shifted his gaze only to see the bloody tracks after something large that had been dragged across the floor. Judging after the handprints and claw marks, said something had not been very willing.
As Marluxia took a closer look he could not find one thing not splattered with dark red spots. It looked like a butchery. The flies were buzzing louder than ever, crawling around in pools of blood here and there. Especially they seemed to gather around one particularly stained door. The windrow in the door was completely covered with wet fog.
The warmth and stench in the room was unbelievable. The scent of rotting flesh lay heavy and thick like a wet, woollen blanket against nose and mouth. It stung in his eyes, and the flies seemed to be everywhere.
Marluxia leaned against the slippery, bloody wall and retched. Several times. He was pale, shivering violently. Disregarding the blood and dirt he pressed his forehead to the cold earth wall, trying to calm down.
Could these gruesome tunnels really be Vexen's work? Reality seemed to hit Marluxia hard. Vexen was a vampire... a murderer. This was but a small side effect after two hundred years of slaughter.
Marluxia's mind was spinning with nausea and disgust. Vexen had intentionally created this hellhole, and what ever waited behind those doors was likely to be even worse than what he had already seen. And Vexen intended on making him a vampire... force him to live his life like a cruel, bloodthirsty monster. His own lover...
A few tears found their way down his cheeks, but he quickly wiped them away before the flies could settle on his face. He could never live his life like this. He was no murderer, and no one would be able to turn him into one either. He was no killer, even if he had fallen for one. Not all the love on earth would make him kill.
He struggled a little with his own willpower, but got moving again and utterly repulsed he reached out for one of the doors, dreading the thought of what he might find.
He could hear his own heart pounding in his chest, even through all of the noise that came from the hundreds of flies soaring around.
His fingers touched the dirty glass, carefully cleaning a patch so he could peer through. He cringed in fright at first, but then he registered the room beyond the door. A large room with walls of concrete, furnished with numerous counters and tables, everything in steel, all spotless. Knives, scalpels and him commit a sin like that.
He needed to breathe fresh air, to clear his mind... Maybe Vexen had a good explanation. Maybe he could talk him out of changing him. A life without Vexen was unthinkable; yet a life with him appeared to be impossible, more or less. Larger -more horrible looking- objects were aligned along the walls, and Marluxia felt chills shooting up his spine as he thought of what they might be used for. But the room looked far more inviting than the bloodstained hallway. Out of sheer curiosity he tried the handle, finding the door open. A wave of cold air hit him, forming goosebumps on his skin. The air did not smell fresh, to his disappointment. It was simply cold, like a freezer or storage. The trail of blood seemed to stop just at the doorway. Someone had washed the floor… Maybe Vexen used to work down here? Marluxia mused, stepping into the room. He closed the door behind him, not wanting to see more of that horrible hall. He hugged himself against the cold, absently rubbing his arms as his eyes scanned the room. Small puffs of white mist escaped him with each breath. Then his eyes landed on something lying at a counter. From far away it could have been any piece of paper. However, as he closed in with shaky steps he could see it was an envelope. He arched an eyebrow, not sure if he dared to pick it up… He had seen that before… But where?
Just then he caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye. Upon turning to see what it was, his heart skipped a beat. At the far end of the room stood a large metal slab. On the floor around it were small splotches of blood. On the slab was a white cloth; hiding something that judging by its shape was a human. He was not sure if he wanted to know, but his legs had already decided for him. Hesitantly he moved over to the slab, eyes fixed on the dark, rusty red stains on the cloth. He had to cover his mouth against the smell of decay, but at least there were no flies. It was probably too cold for them. His fingers curled up in the thin fabric, slowly closing into a fistful of cloth. His head seemed to throb with panic, and yet he needed to see. He knew he would regret it but in one fluent movement he pulled the cloth away, teeth gritted. It was as if a deafening silence fell over the room, and all he could hear was the throbbing from his aching head. His eyes were wide, and he felt the hair in the back of his neck stand on end. What lay on the slab was the corpse of a woman. Most of her skin had been torn off, her lid-less eyes staring at nothing in particular. Her teeth were barred, as she had no lips, some of them missing and remaining as a gaping black hole. Her chest and stomach had more or less been gouged out, becoming a large hole. The inner organs had been removed, so Marluxia could see her spine all the way down to her hipbone. What was left of her entrails lay piled up around her and between her legs. Her nails had been ripped out, having her fingertips remain as bloody stubs. She had probably laid there for a while, for after a closer look Marluxia noticed large, white maggots crawling around in her rotting flesh, feasting on her remnants. It was just as he saw one fat maggot eat its way out of one of her eyeballs that he couldn't hold back any more and bent over, followed by a loud splashing noise as his half digested supper made a hard impact with the high polished stone floor. His vision began to blur, things began to spin, and before his head hit the floor he had blacked out.
He felt long, slender fingers stroking through his hair. A soft, worries voice was murmuring incoherently. It took a few minutes before he realized that the unintelligible mumbling was directed at him. He could not tell whose voice it was. He wanted it to be his mother's. He wanted to wake up from this bliss and find he was back in his old room, find that he never left home. He would open his eyes and be greeted by the rays of the morning sun shining through the window, gleaming in the drops of condensed mist that had gathered on his roses over the night. He kept a bed of roses just outside his window so the scent would float into the room as he opened the door every morning. Then he would look at the white walls, where his paintings hang. Beautiful watercolours of landscapes he had seen as he went on trips with his sister to gather herbs for the pharmacy. He would then look at his mother, a small, delicate woman with the most gorgeous smile, and long rose-blonde hair. Marluxia had inherited her brilliant blue eyes. She would be treating his fever, which probably was the cause for this horrible dream. He would tell her how he dreamt he had moved from home and opened a shop for himself. How he had lived a good life for several years before he met a murderer who came to change his life. He would tell how he had gotten kidnapped and raped, and how he had been manipulated to accept this, even treasure it. His mother would smile that beautiful smile, telling him it was but a bad dream, that it was all over.
Unwilling to open his eyes, Marluxia frowned in his half daze. Was that really how it was…? Murder… Rape… He concentrated all he could on remembering the dream, the face of the man who had abducted him. He could not remember hating him. Objecting, yes. But really, a murderer so horrible… There should be a trace of loath and disgust somewhere… but he could not remember. The details of the dream seemed to slip like water between his fingers.
"Marluxia…? Are you awake…?"
His eyes shot open at the familiar voice, and the face he saw before him made all the details come flooding back in seconds. He stared back at those green orbs before him with horror, knowing it had not been a dream. He had woken up from the slumber and awakened in the nightmare. A loud scream was piercing his ears, and he did not realize it was his own scream before Vexen had grabbed his shoulder, shouting for him to calm down, and yet he seemed so far away, as if there was a screen between them muffling the sounds and obscuring his eyes. Everything was so confusing, his head was aching and everything was so painful, he simply wanted to die and never have to suffer anything again, die, so the man before him could not hurt him any longer.
"Marluxia, calm down!!"
Marluxia wasn't sure if he was screaming any words, or just screaming, but he felt his throat loosening up with his cries, tears were streaming down his face and everything was so horribly painful. It burned to be awake, and it stung to breathe. His body was in shock. He knew he never wanted to see blood ever again. His head was filled with the image of dark tunnels, huge stacks of human bodies, half rotted and piled up on top of each other, charred and mangled, maggots and larvae crawling under their skin, eating their way through bones and flesh. If there had been anything left in his stomach he would have thrown up again. Between severed body parts and corpses he could see a shadow of something living, moving, hunting, two horrible eyes constantly staring as the thing moved amongst the dead, and Marluxia was going mad for sure.
Then he felt two fingers to each of his temples. Cold, thin fingers. A wave of relief washed over him as the images disappeared. Slowly he opened his red-rimmed eyes, biting back a sob.
"V… Vexen… I…"
"Ssh… Everything will be fine. I am here. I will take care of you," Vexen murmured, pulling Marluxia to him with one hand, patting his back with the other. Marluxia shook at the touch, but the familiar cent of fresh air made him calm down. He was out of the basement… He was saved… Swallowing thickly he hugged Vexen back. He had probably been saved from going mad too… He glanced around to find he was sitting in a single bed with white sheets, wearing a white night shirt. Judging from the walls and windows he was still in the castle, but in a far more open room with bright light pouring in. Probably some room for sick people who needed treatment. He pulled a little away from Vexen to avoid the smell of grave soil, looking down in his lap. Now that he seemed to have regained his voice, he really didn't want to talk. What was down there had been Vexen's work… the work of a murderer. And yet the murderer was sitting there hugging him,comforting him. It was bizarre to the point of grotesque.
"I am so sorry… you should not have seen that," Vexen whispered, one of his hands lightly caressing Marluxia's cheek. "It is… the result of my curse… Doomed to kill for a living. Such is the fate of a vampire. I did not chose it myself…"
Slowly and absently, Marluxia nodded. His brain seemed to have slowed down considerably at the moment. He just listened and accepted, while his brain slowly digested the words.
"You need to rest," Vexen continued. Marluxia tried to identify his expression, but everything seemed so bright and sterile… It was impossible to tell. His voice was worried… ashamed… But his face seemed blank, his eyes empty. Like that of a murderer. He needed some time to… collect himself…
Marluxia swallowed thickly, looking up at Vexen. The man smiled at him, a small, soft smile meant to reassure him that everything would be fine. But this time, Vexen was wrong. Marluxia wouldn't allow himself to fall for that again. He might be in love with Vexen, or Vexen could have manipulated him, making him think he cared, for who could ever love a murderer so horrible? If there were any way to run… then he would have to give it a try. He needed to get away from Vexen so he could free his mind and body, think straight and become himself again.
"Marluxia, are you alright…?"
He realized he had been staring. Everything was still so hazy.
"I… am fine," he muttered. Vexen gave him an intent look; not seeming too convinced but at the same time overly worried. Marluxia cast his eyes down; unable to meet those emerald orbs he knew had seen so much death.
"You do not look fine… but at least your voice is back," Vexen persisted, trying to smile. "Try not to think about what you have seen… Things will be fine from now on."
"H-how can you be so sure?" Marluxia whispered, painfully aware of how weak and hoarse his voice had become after not being in use for so long. Vexen on the other hand seemed so happy it was back. He felt one cold hand closing around his own clammy, shaking one.
"The full moon is drawing closer," Vexen murmured, lips only inches from Marluxia's ear. "When that time comes I will change you. All the pain and sorrow will disappear as you become one of the children of the night," he whispered. "No fear… no pain."
Marluxia felt a sort of panic welling up inside of him, worse than the nausea he had felt down in the tunnels. He had to get away… But Vexen would only open the gates if he asked for it, and he would probably be kept under constant observation… Unless Vexen was sleeping at the time…
"I… can't wait," he mumbled, making an effort to sound as if he really wanted it, one arm draping loosely around Vexen's back. "But… if I am to be changed… so soon… could I have a day outside? In the area around the castle…? I would like to see the sea again, as a mortal, in daylight… by myself…"
Hopefully Vexen would trust him… He could only beg for him not to read his mind. He waited for what seemed like a decade of tension before Vexen replied.
"I can not see why not. You fill find the gate unlocked as soon as you feel able to stand and walk again."
"Good," Marluxia sighed. He relaxed there in Vexen's arms. It was so calming to have him stroke his back, petting and caring for him. It took a few minutes before he reminded himself he was about to run away. He couldn't let Vexen overpower him either. Not now, when he had finally managed to collect his thoughts and realize what the other was doing to him.
"I… think I need some more rest," he mumbled, glancing up at Vexen.
"Of course, I apologize," Vexen said, running his fingers through Marluxia's hair, kissing his cheek briefly before standing. "Sleep well, my love."
Marluxia held his breath as he watched Vexen leaving the room, not letting it out before he was sure Vexen was far away. He glanced out of a window, finding everything dark and silent. Vexen would not sleep before it was daylight… That suited him perfectly. All he had to do was to get out of the castle grounds and through the forest. He had seen a small village there when they were flying. Someone there was bound to know where he could find a train station that could bring him back to Paris. He would need money for a ticket of course, but he might be able to find work in the village and earn the money before Vexen found him.
He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. This was bound to fail… But trying was better than to submit to that… monster…
He leaned back in the soft mattress, staring up at the pale ceiling. Soon he would be free.
It was the rays of the morning sun that woke Marluxia some hours later. He was filled with a sort of excited joy, and yet he was terrified if Vexen should catch him. Quickly he got out of bed, striding over to what looked like a wardrobe. He frowned a little upon seeing all the clothes in there where of white linen. Well, it didn't matter as he couldn't run away half naked either. He found a pair of pants that fitted him and a comfortably large shirt, hoping Vexen wouldn't miss them. He had no shoes, so bare footed he found his way out in the hall. He had to walk for a few minutes before he could recognize anything and navigate to the entrance hall. The large front doors looked just as impassable as always, but Vexen had said they would open for him… He bit his lip, trying the handles. To his delight the heavy doors creaked open and a cold winter breeze flooded in through the crack. He took a deep breath of the sharp, cold air before slipping through, moving out on the large stone steps leading down to the courtyard. The stone was cold under his feet, and he wondered how he would manage all the way to the village like this. All of the ground was covered in snow, as were the withered branches of the trees. Everything was white, but for the cloudless sky which had a light, light blue colour, so clear and beautiful with a violet tint just at the horizon. He smiled widely, filled with delight he had not felt for many weeks. With a jolt of excitement he leapt down the stone steps, giving a small cry of joy as his feet met with cold, wet snow. And then he broke into a run, sprinting across the courtyard as fast as he could, – and Marluxia was a fast runner when he wanted to – through the tall gates and out on the giant field of white that covered the hill, past the road and out in the open. He felt free again! He spread his arms out, remembering how the cold air had whipped around him as Vexen had taken him up flying, just as the sharp breeze now, making his thin clothes billow with the wind. He could see the forest closing in and he knew there was no stopping him now. Vexen would never catch him!
Panting he reached the bottom of the hill, his pace slowing down as he crossed a small meadow until he reached the edge of the forest and came to a halt, needing to catch his breath. He looked back to see the castle tower up from its resting place high above the rest of the land. Even at this distance it looked intimidating, but there was a sort of beauty and peace over the building now, with its towers and stone figures topped by snow and the stained glass windows coated in frost and fog. Marluxia remained in place, just looking over the scene for a good while. He would after all never see it again.
It was strange… Not many days ago he had leapt into Vexen's arms, overjoyed that he had gotten a greenhouse, planning what they would do together in the future, where they would travel… Realizing his feet was freezing he turned to the forest, swallowing thickly.
"Vexen…"
No. He couldn't turn back, not now. Not when he was this close. Moving some branches aside with his hand he vanished into the thick forest, out of sight from anyone but the creatures that inhabited the dark place. It was getting even colder, if possible, now that the sun wasn't providing any warmth. The legs of his pants were soaked, making it even worse for his feet and resulting in cooling him down even quicker. He could only guess which direction the village lay in, and hope he wouldn't encounter any wolves… The thought made a different kind of shiver run up his spine. He warmed himself with the thought that nothing in this forest was worse to encounter than Vexen. He was fleeing from the worst of them all.
Taking a shuddery breath he continued into the darkness, waiting impatiently for his eyes to adjust. While walking he tried his best to remember exactly which direction the village would lay in. The flight had been so short he hadn't had the time to see, nor thought much about exactly where it was. After walking east for a while he decided he would try more north, as he could vaguely recall that the forest had been thinning out sooner in that direction. With a bit of luck he would encounter a forester from the village or some of the like, maybe some children out playing. Anything would be of help right now. Preferably before he froze to death…
As he reached into the forest it became darker, but at least there was less, close to no snow. At a time he had to sit down at the foot of a large tree to massage his feet, trying to get some warmth back in them before they went completely numb. Afterwards he sped up, knowing he had lost precious time. He had no idea what time of day it was, and if Vexen woke up while he was still lost in the forest he would have problems. He could only pray that he would find his way. A few hours passed, and he felt dead tired. He knew he mustn't sleep, but continuing was far too exhausting. He was just about to sit down and rest as he found a small track leading north. He stared at it for a few seconds as if he had never seen a road before. It was very narrow, but bushes and branches were cleared away from its path, and it had obviously been taken in use quite recently. A thin coat of snow lay over its otherwise icy surface. It was freezing cold under Marluxia's bare feet, but with renewed hope he found the strength to run again, huffing and wheezing, but he kept going as he soon could see the forest thinning out. He ignored his blurry vision and tired limbs, slipping and scrambling across the path. He needed to get out of this forest now. Find someone who could help him.
The track took a turn, and suddenly he was out on an open field. The trees had been chopped down and neatly stabled up in large stacks as firewood, now covered in a heavy layer of snow. Someone had been working there before… Humans… With a tired sigh and a content smile he fell facedown in the snow.
He didn't know for how long he had been lying there, if he had been sleeping or not. At some point he had noticed the sky was darkening, and small snowflakes began whirling down from the sky. Everything was so silent and calm… nothing stirred. He was too numb to feel much of the cold too. If it were up to Marluxia he would lie there in the snow, and never stir again.
However Marluxia had collapsed on a small field just outside the one village he had searched so desperately for. As the last hour of the night turned into morning, in his dreams Marluxia could hear the voices of the villagers when they woke up, children whining as their mothers nagged, people chatting idly as they went each to their own, and finally the footsteps of the men leaving town to work in the forest. The faint sound of approaching footsteps barely reached Marluxia's ears in his half dream- half unconscious state.
Wait… morning…? Had he been lying there for so long…? How could he still be alive…? Maybe he had spent too much time in that hellhole…
He could hear mumbling from not far away, but his body felt so heavy he didn't have the strength to move. He wondered if Vexen knew he was gone, or if he already knew where he was. Vexen would look for him… right?
He felt strong hands carefully seizing him, and he was hoisted up in a pair of arms though saw nothing for his eyes were closed. But he felt the warmth of the person holding him, knowing it had to be a human. He was saved…
When Marluxia finally came to his senses his skin seemed to burn from the warmth around him. He had been laying outside in the snow for so long that coming into the warmth hurt. He could vaguely remember the voices and the footsteps earlier, and he had probably dreamt it, but it was not far from the truth. He was tucked up in thick woollen blankets in a rickety, though warm bed. He could hear a fire crackling softly not far away, and when he concentrated he could hear people whispering.
He squinted a little, remembering he had eyes, and ended up staring at a wooden ceiling. The room was brightly lit with oil lamps and the red sheen from the fireplace.
"Where… Nh…"
He was too tired. His last session of sleep had simply been even more tiring. It was only a matter of time before he fell asleep again.
"You might want to give yourself some happiness in life too someday".
I trust you not to do anything reckless in my absence.
"Please don't leave us!! Then the master will be sad again!"
"W-what do you mean?"
"The Master has always been so terribly depressed, but that changed when you came! Please don't go!"
"I-I won't, okay?"
"You promise?"
"Promise…"
"So naïve… So ignorant…"Marluxia woke with a startled cry, sitting up in bed and clutching his head as images flew in and out of his mind, blending and ending up a complete chaos. Not exactly a nightmare, but it was far too unpleasant. And he had left Claudia at the castle… He had not offered her a single thought before he left her with that… that… monster!
"Anything wrong?"
Marluxia looked up, turning his head to find the source of the sound. A young woman stood in the doorway looking over him with worry written in her expression.
"O-oh… I… No, no I had a bad dream, that's all," he said, sounding just a little awkward. "Where… am I…?"
The woman moved over to the edge of the bed, sitting down and putting a hand to Marluxia's forehead. "My husband found you lying unconscious in the field just outside the village. I think you got a fever. The doctor will be over later to have a look at you."
"Oh… thank you," Marluxia mumbled, frowning just a little. "I feel fine… really… just a bit dizzy…"
She smiled sweetly at him, taking her hand back. "Do you remember how you ended up in the forest…? Where do you come from?"
He had to think for quite a while before any answer came to his mind. He could barely remember the real reason why he ran away.
"I come from Paris… Visiting a friend who did not turn out so hospitable… Do you know if there are any train stations nearby from where I can get home?"
"Well, yes… But a train ride all the way to Paris is very expensive!"
She offered an apologetic look. "I am sorry to hear… There is a train station half a kilometre from here…"
Marluxia lay back down, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I need to get back to Paris as soon as possible… Do you think I can find any work here in the village…?"
"Well, someone is bound to be able to help you," the woman replied with a thoughtful voice. "But there is no working for you before the doctor has looked at you! You were this close to freezing to death!"
Marluxia jumped at the sudden sharpness in her voice.
"If you insist," he muttered, frowning even more now. This whole situation felt very uncomfortable. He was more or less like an intruder in someone else's home, and after Vexen he really had his share of waking up in unfamiliar beds. But he was alive, and he was more or less free to go where he wanted. Things were finally turning to the better…
It wasn't before the evening that the doctor came. Marluxia had gotten the time to freshen up, and the woman (he was told her name was Emily) had lent him some of her husband's clothes. They were a bit large for Marluxia but they were warmer than the white linen ones, and more importantly they didn't smell of Vexen. Hopefully, in time he would be able to forget everything about him. He would find work in the village, pay his ticket and get back to Paris. No one would even notice he had been gone… but Claudia…. No, there was no saving her now.
"What are these marks on your arm?"
Marluxia was pulled back to reality by the calm voice of the doctor, a nice, lean man in his thirties with a large moustache. Marluxia looked down at his arm and to his own horror he saw the marks where Vexen had bitten him during their second intercourse.
"I-I must have been scratched by some branches on my way through the forest," he said, trying to keep his voice firm. The doctor raised a bushy eyebrow, glancing over the marks. Two tiny puncture marks with white fairly clean edges. Marluxia dreaded what anyone would say if he told the truth, but he was still scared and shocked. Remaining confident and secure was difficult.
"Really…? These look more like some insect or animal left them. And far from recently," the doctor concluded.
"I would not know. I didn't notice them before," Marluxia insisted, more satisfied with his tone now.
"They look like they go very deep…. Are you sure you don't want me to have a look?" the doctor asked
"No, they don't hurt or anything. I will be fine…"
Relieved, Marluxia was allowed to go to bed again. He was surprisingly healthy for having been outside in the cold for so long, and the doctor said he would be allowed to leave bed already tomorrow. Hopefully he would be able to find some work then. He really missed Paris, and couldn't wait to get back home. Maybe he could visit his parents again, get his mind on other things…
Well… it wasn't as if he had lost a lover, he thought, snorting softly to himself. He had run away from a murderer. There were some great differences to that.
It was early next morning as Arthur – Emily's husband – woke Marluxia up from more feverish dreams to take him out looking for work. He had wished to begin looking as soon as possible, and the other villagers were just getting ready for the new day as they ventured through the streets.
Arthur asked him what he did for a living home in Paris, and he told him of the pharmacy. He got some tips as to where to look for work, what might suit him, and where they could use more help before Arthur went off for his own affairs. With a lighter mind Marluxia strolled of through the wide streets, seeing people opening their shop, cheerfully bid another good morning. Everyone seemed to know each other. It was so different from Paris. People greeted him as he passed though he was a complete stranger, everyone talked to each other in happy voices and everyone seemed to likeeach other... like they had no care in the world… It was difficult to explain exactly what went through Marluxia's mind, but it felt easier to be happy around these people. There were no room for sadness, and if someone was feeling down their friends and fellow villagers would quickly cheer them up. Already now his thoughts of Vexen were diminishing.
Absently Marluxia realized that he might just enjoy his stay.
My, is it the end of this tragic tale? Will Marluxia settle and never have to worry about Vexen again?
I doubt it. The longer comments I get the sooner you will get the continuation of this "light-cliffy"
If you find any typos, blame me. I should have looked this over before posting…
This was a bit shorter than usual… but my mum kept nagging for me to write the rest… Yes you read that right. My mum. Somehow I got her to read the first non-graphic chapter and she craved the rest D: …
Well I hope everyone enjoyed. I will be waiting patiently for reviews. My soul craaaves them. –shot, obviously-
