Author's Note: Well, here it is, the last chapter of Part II. A lot of secrets are revealed in this chapter. I hope that if you plan to read this, you read part I first, otherwise it might not make sense. I wonder if anyone expected the 'Walter secret'? I have been hinting about it since chapter II. Admittedly, I'm starting to dislike Walter, now. There is a lemon in this chapter as well, in case you don't (or do!) like lemons.
I'm not sure when I will be able to update this story again. Part III is still a work in progress and will take a great deal of time to write and edit. By Part III, familair LoI characters will show up (i.e. Sara & Leon), and I've decided that Rinaldo WILL appear again at some point as well. I really want to ensure that the plotline and quality stays consistent so I will not update unless I am comfortable with what I've written (which could mean more than a week or two between updates). Many of you are curious about what will happen to Joachim when Leon inevitably confronts him. I won't say anything for sure, however, the ending could go either way. Keep in mind that there are two different endings to LoI (depending on whether you play through the game as Leon or Joachim) so either one is possible... :)
Special Thanks
As always, I want to thank anyone who is reading this story. It means a lot to know that people like my work. Extra special thanks go to people who have left me reviews, which are invaluable to me as a writer. I would certainly love to hear what you think of my story before I begin Part III.
Thank you: haruharu, Rahar Moonfire, LateNiteSlacker, TheGhostisReal, AzariyaBelmont, Andinah, & Suikorin :D
Chapter XXV
It felt unnatural for him to wander like a stranger down the path leading to the village he once resided over. Joachim gazed up at the starry night sky above, and stared for a lingering moment at the moon. It was a crescent moon that night and the dim light it cast illuminated his unnatural ashen skin. The youth floated up the road toward Creightel until the sounds of human laughter startled him and prompted him retreat into the trees. He flew behind the trunk of a particularly wide tree and peered around it, curious to know who was about at such a late hour. It was not long until he sighed two familiar faces – Maurizio and Emmaline. The knight and the lady walked side by side up the road.
Maurizio's wavy brown hair swished against his shoulders whilst his metallic boots made soft, thumping sounds across the worn pathway. Since there was no fog that evening to cloak his presence, the white-haired youth remained hidden behind the tree watching them intently. Both humans were completely unaware of his presence. For a moment, he considered showing himself, until he remembered his frighteningly pale appearance. Indeed, if they saw him, he imagined they would run away screaming and alert the village. Thus, he resigned himself to remaining in the trees, whilst his pale blue eyes gleamed like aqua marine gemstones in the moonlight. The sound of Maurizio's joyous voice quickly filled his ears. Yet, the feeling he received from hearing his former comrade's voice was anything but nostalgic.
"Kyran is hosting a party to celebrate his new title, tonight. By the by, Lady Emmaline, you look absolutely stunning."
The woman smiled and brushed away locks of her caramel colored hair. She had donned herself in a long, gold colored gown. The gown's high collar fanned elegantly behind her head like a queen. Although Joachim knew she was wealthy, she was far from well off enough to afford such an extravagant garment. The young man eyed the dress suspiciously whilst she smiled and replied. "Why, Sir Maurizio Dellamaria! What a grand knight of his majesty you are, far grander than any still fighting upon the battlefield."
"Thank you, milady." The knight bowed. The movement allowed the young man to notice that the moon's light made his robes gleam like silver. Silver was his father's favorite color. Maurizio was donned in fine silver colored robes, and wore the most expensive armored boots he had ever seen - and recognized. The beautiful cloth made of fine material, and that had been stitched by one of Europe's finest tailors, had belonged to none other than Lord Armster. The youth's mouth parted in surprise. How did Maurizio acquire my father's robes? As the question floated through his mind, he realized that the familiar looking dress Emmaline wore belonged to his mother. The garment was unmistakable, for he had looked through his mother's dresses when he was selecting one to give to Catherine. Very quickly, he began to notice that almost everything they wore belonged to his family. Worn upon their fingers were gold and silver rings. Though he was too far away to see them in detail, he recognized the artistry enough to know such pieces belonged to his mother and father.
"You know," Maurizio, continued to speak, and they stopped in the middle of the road. Joachim's eyes froze like icicles willing to puncture through their smiling faces. "To think, after Lord Armster disappeared there was no heir to claim his estate. Tis' a shame Kyran was forced to slave away under the incompetence of Lord Armster's son."
Emmaline's voice tensed when they breached the subject. "I thought you and Joachim were comrades? You speak so poorly of him, now."
"Comrades?" Maurizio broke away from her arm as if the implication was offensive to his ears. "I would hardly call him that. Joachim was a lord who thought highly of himself. He is a murdering scoundrel. You saw the travesty he committed upon those innocent women and children!" The knight folded his arms, his eyes narrowing upon her harshly.
Emmaline shrugged and persistently took hold of the knight's arm. "Yes, tis' true." She mused and shook her head. The long waves of her golden hair swept across her shoulders. "Joachim was a troubled child, and his poor upbringing should account for his devilish behavior. You know, despite Lord Armster's respectable name, he was a tyrant. Joachim's thirst for blood rivaled his father's."
"Tis' no wonder why Joachim was so pale and sickly. If it were not for his father's name, he would have been on trial years ago for witchcraft."
"How dreadful he was before he fled our village to hide in the forest of Eternal Night." The woman's voice was soft but terse.
"Yes, indeed." The knight soothed, but then perked when his hand intertwined around the sapphire studded ring worn on her index finger. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed them over the jewel, his eyes twinkling in delight upon hearing her giggle. "These gold rings will carry a fetching price at the market in Brendelham. I am certain, you are aware Kyran will be announced our new lord three days from now?"
Emmaline returned his gesture with a slight smile as her hand slipped out of his and enclosed around the large ruby resting on her neck. "I have seen harlots wear rings like these. As soon as you leave for Brendelham, I expect you take my rings to the market with you. Pity the Lady Arabella could not have had better taste." After pausing, she shrugged as he lips formed a coy little grin. As if something was terribly amusing, she leaned closer to the knight and continued eagerly. "I heard Lady Armster was an adulteress…"
The woman's smile was so malicious that the young man hiding in the trees felt the terrible stab of its cruelty. He kept his lips sealed together, suppressing the outrage building inside him whilst his claw-like fingernails dug into his palms. A shudder ran through his body. It was too much. The sounds of their delight and laughter rang through his ears.
"Where on earth did you hear such a thing?" Maurizio jerked his head back with a laugh. "Have you forgotten Lord Armster? His stare could freeze a man solid. I pity the poor devil that might have tumbled with Lord Armster's whore!" His chuckle reverberated through the darkness. The sound yet tempted the pale creature to burst from his hiding place, but for but a little while longer he forced himself to stay unnoticed in the trees. He could hardly bare to look at them, and each glitter of the jewels they wore and the garments they acquired burned his eyes like venom.
"Well then," The knight added with an air of satisfaction. "Joachim was, admittedly, a determined young fellow willing to try and turn the blame away from himself to Lord Bernhard. He was weak and as useless as a horse with a broken leg. Wasted talent."
"Yes, tis' true." Emmaline's tone flattened slightly, until the sound of separate footsteps came running up the path. "Oh look!" she exclaimed and took a few paces away from the knight to look at the newest arrival. "Jezebel, good evening! What are you doing wandering about at this hour?" She smiled when the form the other woman bounded toward them, and Joachim felt his throat nearly collapse when he saw Jezebel donned in a fine dark green dress lined with silver.
The other woman's thick strawberry blond hair bounced with her light hearted steps, although her words spoke the meaning behind her flight. "How goes you two tonight? Are you on your way to Kyran's party?"
"Indeed, we are!" Emmaline answered with a grin when the huffing woman stopped in front of her and fidgeted with the skirt of her long dress. "I adore that dress you are wearing, was it another of Lady Armster's?"
"Why, yes it was. I liked the blue dress better though, but this will have to do until I collect the other three Kyran promised me. Joachim also had an eye for the spoils of his father's wealth."
"How very true." Maurizio nodded in agreement.
Jezebel gave a bemused repeat to the word so it had an extra ring of malice. "People are still dying nearly every week. I imagine, that brute is not done with this village just yet."
Joachim's eyes pulsated a glowing red color that shone through his hiding place in the bushes. His nails carved deep scratches into his chest armor, and his fangs bared in rage.
They were animals and no less than common thieves. Maurizio wore his father's finest robes and donned himself in his boots and jeweled rings, given to his father from the king himself for his honorary services. Oh how his heart stung as if stabbed numerous times by their words, countless times until his blood was left to flow over the ground they trampled with their feet! He envisioned his beloved mother, the woman who held him before her death – called a whore and an adulteress. Nearly foaming at the mouth, his eyes narrowed into slits and the aquamarine glow of the swords floating against his back intensified.
His ears twitched as he listened to Jezebel's voice, his fiery gaze desiring to scorch her to ashes. The woman emitted a loud chuckle whilst she continued. "Like they say, bad blood destroys a clan and creates bad influences. The Armster clan was no exception. I have a rather keen eye set upon that attractive Lord Walter Bernhard. If he ever returns, I would gladly accept him if he requested my hand."
Her cheeks seemed to flush a shade as scarlet as an impish grin spread across Maurizio's lips. "A clever young lady such as you would do no less when choosing a suitor." His dark brown eyes twinkled in delight to match his eager words. "Joachim would have been an ill choice. Mothered by a concubine and sired by a bloodthirsty nobleman, tis' no wonder he turned out so poorly. A company of my fellow knights are bound to the forest of Eternal Night by tomorrow's eve."
Jezebel's lips twisted into a smirk. "I heard vampires do not appreciate the sunlight. Why not leave him upon the steps of the church so that he may see God's light ascend? I would enjoy watching him burn like the hellish fiend he is."
Emmaline's grip on Maurizio's arm tightened. "Yes," the woman agreed. "I found that disgraceful creature tiring, but are we not scheduled to attend another burning within the next two days? Are the rumors true about his horse, Sir Dellamaria?"
Her eyes blinked several times in successive impatience, though raising his head slightly more Maurizio gave a rigid nod. "I am afraid so, milady." He replied. "The day after Joachim's disappearance his stallion was discovered in the forest. Father Genesio deemed that the horse is suffering from demonic possession. Tomorrow it will be slaughtered and burned. My men and I have already tried beating the evil spirit out of it, only to no avail. That beast is wild and will allow no one upon its back."
"How dreadful!" Emmaline gasped and shook her head, brushing aside locks of her fair hair and twiddling excessively with the rings around her fingers. "I say tie that vampire to the pyre and set it afire. Let the wicked monster's unholy flesh burn!" Her laugh rang through his ears like the cackle of a witch, and with her cackling Maurizio urged the two women up the path. "Joachim was always dependent upon people in life, and now he shall be dependent upon them once again for blood in death-"
Maurizio's words were cut short by the sting of a blade that flew from the bushes and stabbed him directly the left shoulder. A petrified gasp parted from the knight's lips as his body careened backward and fell upon the dirt pathway. In unison with the attack, the two women stood as still as stone, and their mouths opened to emit horrified screams. They did not run but remained in place like frightened sheep as their assailant emerged from the trees. Joachim's blazing eyes narrowed, which made the sword ebbed through the knight's shoulder withdraw from the flesh in a spray of blood. His fangs flashed like knives under the pale moonlight, and the purple misty aura surrounding his body illuminated his slender form in the darkness. Wisps of his ivory locks swept around his tear stained cheeks as his blazing eyes intensified upon the two women. "You dare to spit upon the memory of my father and mother, and scoff in my face with your treacherous words? Now, I have discovered all I ever meant to any of you was by my assets alone and nothing more!" Joachim nearly convulsed in rage, and without a thought his swords encircled around his body as he watched their expressions become a vivid display of mortal horror at the mere sight of him. Absorbing their fear, a terrible snarl erupted from within his throat as he rasped. "I curse you all! May you all suffer the woes you wrought upon yourselves! If you wish to see a true monster, perhaps I shall show you the meaning of pain and suffering! Indeed, I can think of none who deserve it more than all of you!"
Not even a fraction of a second passed before two of his swords were sent forth at his mind's willing command. He watched the blades hurtle forward in their dazzling glowing array, before both made a combined sideward swipe at each woman. The blood gurgling gasp first escaped Emmaline as her hand flew to cover her throat. The sharpened side of the blade created a fine slit across the length of her larynx. The woman's deep blue eyes widened into saucers, as her hand pressed over the slit as if desperate to keep the flesh together when she fell to her knees and tumbled backward onto the ground in a pool of blood. Joachim hissed at the sight of her body strewn in a graceless heap, until his eyes diverted to Jezebel, who was staring at him while the blood trickled down her neck and over the beautiful encrusted ruby rested upon her chest. He clenched his hands into fists when the first of the bloodied swords returned to him. "Die, all of you! It brings me great joy knowing your throats shall speak no more gossip!"
Emmaline's lips moved, but her voice sounded only the faintest word clouded by the streams of blood that gushed from her open wound. "…Joachim!" then, like a battered rag doll, she collapsed forward onto the ground. The woman's face pressed into the soil where she moved no more.
"How can this be?" came another cry that made the vampire's eyes divert downward to Maurizio's frame attempting to get up off the ground. "Joachim, what happened to you? You have returned-"
Maurizio's body was thrown onto the ground at the wave of Joachim's hand, and although he heard the man's agonized screams, his words were cold. "That's right, lowly human." He began as he floated toward the fallen knight. "The only thing you were right about was the fact we are not friends. You are nothing to me, absolutely nothing." His eyes glittered like rubies upon the fallen knight's form still struggling, however when he neared, Maurizio's hand extended into the air and grasped onto the fluttering fabric of his robe. His brow furrowed when the man's head looked up to face his, and he found himself staring into the dark desperate gaze of Maurizio's shocked expression.
"Please, Lord Armster, I meant nothing by what I said! Kyran convinced us all to take your mother and father's items, what use do they have now anyway since they are dead? I am still your friend and I never believed anything Jezebel gossiped about anyway, the wicked wretch-"
"Shut up!" He continued to stare down at the man, diverting his gaze from his face to his hand clutched upon his robe. "How dare you lie to me! You are wearing my father's finest robes and jewelry, yet you were so eager to sell it at the market in Brendelham for whatever fetching price they would get. Have all the money you want, it's of no use to me anymore!"
Maurizio's hand tightened with his words, and in a sob the man's voice gave a shaken reply that sent the vampire into another wave of disgust. "Please, milord! Do not kill me! I am your friend, think of all the times we shared in each other's company! I brought you no happiness at all? I think not! I beg of you, I plead with you not to kill me! Please spare me, save me from an ill fate, forgive me of what I did!" Pitiful tears trickled down Maurizio's cheeks, tears that stung Joachim into a somber enraged silence. He pulled against the desperate grip of the man's hand, but when he would not let go his boot collided into the knight's wrist and crushed it down into the earth.
"You are no knight." Joachim whispered so quietly his voice changed into an unearthly tone of disgust. "A true knight does not beg for his life, but accepts death readily. As I stare down at you writhing at my feet, and begging like a stuck pig for your pathetic life, you define the very meaning of cowardice. These are the last words you shall ever hear from me: a vulgar cad like you should have his corpse and soul devoured by maggots– and you will. I shall make you that promise as payment for your ill deeds." Joachim waved his hand in the air that caused the knight to float upward off the ground and directly into his arms. Amidst Maurizio's pleading sobs he pushed back the collar of the robe and ran his lips across the supple flesh of the man's tender neck. There came not a pulse of regret when he bared his fangs and sunk them deep into his flesh, ripping at the skin so he could feast upon his blood. The scent filled his nostrils and caused his mind to become warped in pleasured hunger while blood flowed into his mouth and rushed down his throat. He felt the knight's trembling body convulse like the struggling prey he was to the vampire, a weak and pathetic creature at the mercy of his pleasure. He allowed his lips for curve into a slight smile until he drained the last of the human's blood. Then, with a feral huff, he dropped the shriveled corpse onto the ground and drifted away from the mess left in his wake. The furious youth ventured toward the village of Creightel, his pale eyes surging for vengeance.
By then, as he expected, the commotion caused the sleeping villagers to stir and wander from their homes like bewildered rabbits. He watched various men scurry about the streets and stop to talk to one another in confusion. His eyes blazed at the sight of them, and they turned and cried out upon noticing his slender form levitating above the cobblestone. The youth emitted a feral snarl, his rage echoing down the streets as men approached him to attack. He barely batted an eyelid when his blades flew away and sliced through the men running toward him. He ensured the impact was deep enough that the cut nearly severed them all in half, and with their blood spattered into the air, he took the scent into his nostrils and let his craving for it surge through his fangs. A low hiss seethed from within his throat at the sight of three men making a precarious attempt to attack him. Not even a fraction of a moment passed before he sent his swords away again, with the tips of the blades pointed forward with their flight and the gleaming rusted surfaces stained entirely with fresh crimson blood. The swords responded to his thoughts, moving with such precision that he delighted at the brief interval the swords surrounded the men and trapped them. There was only another moment of the air's silence broken by their cries, before the tips of the blades drove into each man's chest and jutted through their backsides. What remained of their bodies slumped onto the cobblestone in a grotesque heap of blood.
By then the rest of the village began to awaken. He saw lamps light in the windows of various houses, and listened to the dull murmur of frightened voices echo down the streets. It was just how it had been when he accompanied Walter in Dalwood – the same unwary reactions that spawned a sea of death. His attention diverted to a door of a particular house, when a woman opened it and backed away in a torrent of screams when she sighted his form levitating silently in the street. Joachim watched her with disinterest, but when she attempted to flee the house his mind pulsated every fiber of hate within his heart. The woman was sent flying back inside and to meet his will, he waved a hand that slammed the door shut. Joachim scanned the various alleyways until he discovered what he was looking for. A series of barrels were stacked in each alleyway. The commotion slowly began to overtake the village, and within the turmoil Joachim summoned the barrels and stacked them in front of the doors and windows of the houses. When he could find no more barrels in the alleyways, he used whatever else he could find to block the doors and the windows – namely carts left on the streets and beams of plywood.
He overheard the screams coming from inside the houses when the people realized they could not escape. Joachim waited until the bouts of screams were at their height until he arched his frame backward and waved his hands. His voice cried out at the sight of cracks appearing in the road and emitting bursts of flames from within. His eyes narrowed when the heated fires reached into the air and caught upon the strayed sticks of straw used as the outer layer of the roof of the nearest house as it was almost all the others. The fire quickly spread up the length of the roof and engulfed it in a fury of flames.
Thick black smoke billowed into the air, met by the loud screams and pounding of fists against the barricaded doors of the houses. It wasn't long though until he heard noticeable shatter of glass fill the air, which made his gaze divert upward at the window of a house on the second floor that overlooked the street. A man stood behind the newly broken pane holding a leg of a table that he used to smash the glass, and next to him stood a woman cradling an infant child. The moment the man attempted to climb out of the window, Joachim's eyes blazed and slammed the shutters against the once open way to safety.
It took less time than he anticipated for every single home to succumb to fire. The smoke intensified until a thick black haze covered the streets. Every time he passed a house he heard one form of intense screaming and thumping against the doors, and every time he ignored the sound as if it was non-existent. His hearing capabilities had increased tenfold since he was a vampire, however during that point his mind swelled hysterically. "To think I never realized how enjoyable this would be! What a fool I was to have abstained from drinking blood!" His bared his fangs and smirked from the smell of smoke mixed with spilt blood and flesh. He floated to a halt and stood with his hands clenched at his side, and the sleek form of his face lowered to unleash the frightening glare reaping within his eyes. The flames scorching the houses in his wake silhouetted his radiant purple frame to the priests running up the road. He noted all of them to himself, especially since the one in the lead was none other than Father Genesio. The moment they caught sight of his slender form, the priests withdrew large wooden crosses from their cassocks and brandished them in his face.
Father Genesio, however, remained still with his eyes wide and mouth barely able to form the words. "…Joachim? What have you done? You…you have become one of Satan's servants! Why have you committed such barbarous acts upon this village?"
With a loud huff, he parted his lips and revealed the fine points of his fangs. "I hate humans. Especially priests. Those crosses are useless against me." He watched father Genesio's reaction, the way the priests mouth firmed into a brave line made complete by his furrowed silver brow.
"I shall not allow you to harm the children of God!"
Joachim hissed between his gritted flashing enamels at the sight of their crosses clutched for dear life in their hands, as well as the jewel encrusted crucifixes worn around their necks. "I do not believe in God, and I do not believe any amount of Hail Mary's will save me from my 'sins.' Look at the beauty I have created! The flames dance and rejoice in burning your houses to the ground while suffocating the people caged inside them. Tis' too late for you to save anyone now – especially me." He licked the blood away from the corner of his lips. "I doubt God will save you when you die, for you are undeserving of it!"
The other priests stepped forward, brandishing their crosses and holy bibles. Joachim paused long enough to listen to their words, but he listened with deaf ears so the effect was limited. "Leave this place to rejoin Satan in hell, the power of the Lord our God commands you! The power of Jesus commands you!" The priests spoke in unison, but he noticed a dire reflection of animosity appear in Genesio's eyes. The old priest thrust his cross forward and held it out to him, his voice shouting overtop the clouded smoke and burning embers consuming the entire village as the houses caved inward and collapsed from the flames. "Get out foul vampire! Return to your place of darkness and torture, and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I command you to leave this place!"
Joachim continued to stare at the priest standing in his way. With a low, guttural growl, he swept forth and summoned a blade away from its stilled position behind his back. The moment his mind prepared to send it forth, a horrible burning sensation surprised him when the priest withdrew a small bottle and threw it at his face. The liquid seared at his flesh, and with a vengeful cry he clamped his hands over his face. He struggled to open his eyes, and when he withdrew his hands he noticed they were covered with water.
"Get out demon! Return to the darkness of which you came! The Lord our God commands you!" Genesio's words only amplified his enraged snarls when he realized the water thrown on his face had been blessed. Although it burned, when he touched his face, he was physically unmarked.
With a vengeful roar, Joachim bared his fangs at the offending priest. "You condemned my child to hell, but hell is where I shall send you instead!"
Joachim's eyes narrowed upon Father Genesio, who cried out and thrust the cross toward him. The pale creature noticed the direction the priest aimed, and realized if he attempted to lunge on him the cross would impale itself through his heart – the exact place a priest knew where to strike in hopes of killing him. Joachim wrenched it from his grasp. The priest recoiled in defense, but when Genesio made an attempt to retrieve another bottle of holy water, he struck the man's face with the cross. Blood spattered the air, though it was not enough of a blow to kill the man. The priest writhed in anguish, his form trembling whilst the youth grasped the handle of one of his swords. With the ferocity of a demon, he raised the mighty blade and brought it down upon the priest' throat and severed the man's neck. Blood spilled across the cassock and covered his hands. With a smirk, he pressed his fingers to his lips and tasted its sweetness whilst grabbing the man's severed head by the hair. He held the head up and stared at the priest's frozen, lifeless expression. "Alas, poor Genesio! I knew him. Tis' a shame he died so quickly. I hope he enjoys burning in hell!" Blood seeped into the cobblestone around his feet, drenching his silver lined boots in the putrid red liquid. Wild, unbroken laugher escaped his throat whilst he carried it with him like a trophy, relishing the sight of death.
Without hesitating, he sent all five of his swords directly at the remaining priests. A rupture of screams pieced the night air when each sword impaled a priest. The black cassocks they wore became drenched with blood. His eyes glowed crimson as he drifted through the vapors of smoke and continued on his way up the road.
"Come out, wherever you are!" Joachim screamed into the night, not caring if there was no one left alive to hear him. "I am the pale horseman, the one who seeks your blood and your lives! ] Where is God to save you? I see Him not! I see nothing except the fires of hell engulfing your wretched, worthless souls!"
His laughter rang through the empty streets like a devil. Yet, as the flames seared and licked at him like the tongues of serpents, unwilling tears appeared in his eyes. The hot, cruel flames dancing all around him threatened to engulf him. Fora moment, he stared into the fire, watching the houses burn and collapse – everything he knew suddenly disappearing in a dazzling array of flames. Part of his face was shrouded in the darkness, whilst the other half gleamed under the fire's hot, orangey glow. Profound sorrow appeared in his eyes whilst he stood in the middle of the fiery chasm that had once been a village under his rule.
I am bound to hell… and eternal damnation.
It will always be this way, for me. The fire..the heat…burning my soul…
A fierce crimson glow appeared within his eyes as he drifted toward Armster Manor. He floated up the pathway until he arrived before his home's great doors. It was unnecessary for him to enter there, for the doors would have been barricaded on the inside before he even arrived. An indignant smile pressed across his ashen lips whilst he titled his head upward, eyeing the windows of the great hall on the second level. The purple aura surrounding him intensified whilst he focused his powers. In a matter of seconds, his frail body floated higher into the air until he reached one of the hall's massive windowpanes. His swords whirled around him rapidly before he sent them forth and shattered the glass. A resounding crash echoed through the hall as he flew inside, unhindered by the sounds of people screaming as they tried to flee.
Joachim did not even have to focus on any one human in particular. He sent his swords away again, commanding them to hack at whatever moved. Blood quickly spattered the hall's ornate floors and walls as former servants, guests, and knights fell upon the floor. He moved through the chaos like a prince, ignoring the sounds of their screams and cries as whilst extinguishing their lives like candles. There was one person, however, whom he refrained from killing immediately. Not a moment later, he sighted the old man cowering beneath the portrait of his mother. The man was huddled against the painting like a frightened dog, trembling to the point that he hid his face from the creature's prying gaze. He swept toward the old man, laughing at the sight of his fear whilst he held up the priest's head. Blood oozed down his hand and arm, glistening in the moonlight flooding through the hall's massive windowpanes. The light shone upon the creature's ashen face, causing his pale, blue eyes to gleam like knives.
"Oh, my dear Vassal! How kind of you to take care of my manor for me while I fell into darkness!" A wicked smile pressed across his lips when Kyran's silvery eyes peeked at him between his gnarled hands. "I brought you a present!" He ushered to proudly to the bloody head of the priest. "I should have wrapped it, but you know how blood its, it would seep through the paper. What a shame that would have been."
"Dear God, what are you?" The old man's voice trembled to the point that he was well beyond the point of fear.
"I am what you see." Joachim ignored the man's fear and disgust while he cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. "I noticed you gave away Lady Armster's things to your cohorts. I know you did not search very hard to find me. Did you think I was the one who killed those people? Do you think I am the one doing these things at this moment? Oh, my dear vassal, you are so very mistaken!"
"W-what are you talking about?" Kyran screamed, his eyes widening even further when the young man huffed, the smirk remaining plastered across his lips. As if he were in the presence of the devil himself, the old man's disgust escalated. "I know not what you mean, fiend! Everyone believed you were dead!"
"No thanks to you, I am dead now, fool!" He hissed. The young man's eyes blazed hotter than the fires of hell as he levitated closer, his movements predatory-like. "You will soon discover God does not exist – only the sight of my joyous face when I snuff out your wretched life like a cockroach! I considered drinking your blood but I imagine it would taste as filthy as you are!" He tossed the priest's head away and watched roll across the floor beside his trembling vassal. Horror encompassed the old man's face while his eyes remained locked on the vampire, unable to look away as Joachim narrowed the gap between them. Be still! His mind commanded the swords. This one is not for you… He approached slowly, savoring the sight of the man's fear. Although he was tempted to end it quickly, he paused a moment, his radiant gaze blinking in the shadows when he inquired. "I promise my swords will spare you, though, if you tell me what happened to Catherine. I must know where she is."
"Catherine?" The old man gasped, his hand flying to his chest as if he was about to have a heart attack. For a moment, a flicker of relief appeared within his eyes. Joachim gave the man a convincing smile whilst he waited. Since he commanded his swords to cease whirling around him, Kyran's tension subsided, and his trembling body rose to its feet. The vassal pressed his back against the portrait behind him. "No one has seen her since the night you disappeared."
"Lies!" He roared, the sound of his rage making the entire hall tremble. A bright red glow appeared in his eyes, willing to engulf the old man until he heard his insistence.
"I speak the truth! She has not been seen since that night. No one knows what became of her, though villagers continue to disappear! Maurizio thought you had-"
"I would never!" Joachim held up a hand, his eyes blazing once more at the implication. Nearly foaming at the mouth, he clenched his bloodied hands and wrung them in despair. Blood trickled down his chin and between his fingers whilst he paced frantically in front of his vassal. "She lives! I could never harm her!" But he knew he could – and would – if he saw her. She would be the same as any other human he slaughtered, or so he feared within himself. The very thought of harming her made him want to stab himself and spatter his own blood across the floor.
However, he reconsidered when his gaze penetrated through the trembling man standing before him, who looked up at him with the purest form of fear as he whispered. "I have kept my word and told you what I know! I am of no further use to you, now!"
The smile returned to Joachim's lips. "Tis' true…" A low, barely audible chuckle vibrated within his throat as he drifted forward and narrowed the gap between them.
Kyran's gray eyes widened at the sight whilst he nearly threw his aging frame against the wall, as if hoping the stone barrier would give way enough for him to escape the cold, merciless look the pale demon cast upon him. "You swore your swords would do me no harm!" His protests were lost in the creature's laughter echoing through the massive hall.
He decided that his vassal's use had finally run its course. Indeed, it had years ago, though now he was ready to send him away from his manor – permanently. With a mocking grin, he grasped the man by the robes in his talon-like grip, pulling him forward as he whispered darkly. "I promised my swords would spare you. That does not mean I will…" The man's face was so close to his that his penetrating eyes had a will of their own to incinerate him. Any of the former gentles existing within the pale blue spheres diminished. He despised the vassal's wrinkled face, gnarled hands, and thin, wretched form. Despite the old man's attempt to obtain grandeur, the elaborate robes he donned proved to be a failure in the eyes of the creature restraining him. Like Maurizio, Kyran had clothed himself in one of his father's finest robes. The long, silver garment gleamed in the pale moonlight. Its neckline and hem were trimmed with white rabbit fur and delicate embroidery. He recognized it, for his father wore those robes the day he married his mother. He remembered the portrait of the cold, proud man hanging in his Solar room, the beautiful garment flowing around his elegant frame like that of an archangel.
A flicker of hatred appeared within his steely gaze the longer he looked at the old man's pathetic face. How he wished it were no more! Unable to restrain himself, his hand grasped onto the front of the man's face. Screams filled the hall whilst he dug his long, blackened fingernails into the man's eye sockets and squeezed. A dull, sickening crack filled his sensitive ears whilst he shouted through the darkness. "You disgrace his name by wearing his wedding robes! Go ahead and scream, for this is only the beginning of what I am going to do to you!" He snarled and gnashed his teeth, his eyes wide and glassy whilst his hand continued to apply slow, deliberate pressure upon the man's face. In a matter of moments, he felt the flesh give way and blood flow whilst his vassal's face cracked like an eggshell in his hand. The old man screamed and flailed his arms, desperately trying to escape the agony. Slowly but surely, the bones gave way, until his vassal's terrified screams died to moans of agony. He clutched the dying man until with one, feral squeeze, shattered his skull in his hand. Pieces of torn flesh slipped between his fingers as red liquid spattered into the air, its tiny droplets sprinkling across the portrait of Lady Armster like rain. Blood dotted the woman's white dress and childlike visage. Her sad, beautiful face, seemed to grieve the inhumanity her son displayed.
Almost in a trance-like state, he allowed the corpse to slip from his hand and fall upon the floor beneath his feet. He panted heavily whilst flicking the blood off his hands. The tainted, disgusting, blood of a man he hated so much he could not consume it. Kyran's face was nothing more than unrecognizable pile of crushed flesh and bone. Blood seeped across his father's once beautiful, silver wedding robes and surrounded the body like a reflective red mirror. He kicked the corpse's mangled head with his boot, dissatisfied with how quickly it took for a man to die. Joachim's lips curled whilst his tongue licked the blood caked upon them. With an enraged yell, he whirled from the body, floating toward the blood-spattered portrait of the woman he never knew. His pale, lifeless eyes scanned his mother's graceful form – her flowing white wedding dress, long blonde hair, and pale blue eyes he had inherited. Like her, he was slender, fair, and delicate. Lady Armster was barely sixteen when she gave birth to him, though her expression indicated a lifetime's worth of grief. Joachim reached out and touched the surface of the portrait. He could feel the brush strokes of the paint, and the artist's desire to depict such an exquisite woman as accurately as possible. His dull eyes scanned the portrait carefully, for he knew it would be the last time he would see it. Armster Manor would be left to ruin, for his family name had died with him. When he was about to look away, engraining the image forever in his memory, he paused and felt his breath hitch. The creature's vigilant gaze sighted the pendant resting upon his mother's chest, fastened by ornate gold chain. A black, glittering stone, hidden in plain sight…
A wail sounded from his throat as he felt the air leave his lungs. This can't be! A voice screamed inside his mind whilst he trembled. No! Surely this can't be! He covered his hands with his face and backed away. Lady Armster's gentle eyes continued to gaze down at him, unaware of her son's turmoil - or perhaps indifferent to it. A profound part of his soul shattered when he looked at the pendent she wore – its blackness contrasting against her fair, smooth flesh. Unable to endure it any longer, he fled from the portrait like a demon from hell, his robes flaring behind him as he plunged into the darkness. This can't be! My mother…no! Impossible! Lady Armster…she could have never….! So many thoughts raced through his mind that he could not focus. His vision began to blacken when he fell against the wall of his manor, his skin paling like snow as he struggled to breathe. The creature's ashen flesh and regal clothing were soaked in blood.
In an effort to rid himself of the thought, his eyes sought the stable. He could barely think about where he was going. Several times, he nearly lost his ability to levitate under the strain encompassing his mind. He covered his face with his hands and dug the blackened nails into his own, lifeless flesh whilst his frail body trembled. No! My father would have… Before he could finish the thought, he arrived before the stables and noticed that a heavy padlock secured the doors. My father…would never…he loved her…loved her…my mother loved him…surely this can't be! My mother…my father…loved each other…? Did my father even know how to love or what it meant? Time was truly meaningless to Walter. The red-haired devil permeated through every part of his life, even before he had lived it. He could not bear the implication he saw in the portrait. A picture of his mother, he once found comforting, now haunted his thoughts. Everything was clear and muddled simultaneously in that moment, for he realized he never understood the significance of Walter's past. His father's coldness was paramount as long as his son knew him. Perhaps, even when his mother knew him - a maniac, slayer, lord, father, crusader, and warrior. There too many labels to count, yet all were suitable. Joachim winced at the thought, his mind absently picturing the Ebony Stone, and tortured by its new importance. He struggled to avoid succumbing to a fit of hysterics as he delved deeper into the repulsiveness of the revelation, his face a mask of horror and disgust, as his eyes gazed glassily ahead. Deadness seeped within his pale blue spheres that matched his ashen flesh. Within his whirling thoughts, something inside him screamed for peace but found none. Hellfire engulfed the village beyond the manor and burnt his painful memories into ash and cinder. Even though it was untold to him, he knew the nature of his existence. Knew it, hated it, and made him curse the red-haired creature with all his might. Curses fled his lips faster than a thousand arrows while he wrung his hands, his form trembling as if the wind would carry him into the silent, black night. The sky itself was black and starless on the eve of his return, its beauty ruined by the flaming chasm that had once been his village. Everywhere there was nothing except blackness of night and the dull, orangey glow of fire. Smoke wafted into the sky until he found himself surrounded by a thick gray haze.
He had always imagined his mother to be a kind woman. Though her expression was melancholic, he had inherited the gentility that had surrounded her like a halo. Undoubtedly, the red-haired devil recognized it as well. Whatever had transpired in the past left only ruin in the present. Profound loss filled him whilst he paused, remembering his father, and gathering what remained into coherent thoughts.
I cannot bear to think of this, for it shall destroy what is left of me. I shall forget. The past is nothing but memories drifting through time…
Without even batting an eyelid, one of his swords flew forth and broke the lock with its razor-sharp tip. The profoundness of his torment briefly subsided when the musty scent of horses filled his nostrils. He wandered between the stalls, watching the equines sight him and prick their ears forward. As he went, the horses began to stir until they thrashed against the walls with their powerful hooves. The sounds were thunderous and shook the entire barn. He heard them kick furiously against the doors, whilst they screamed and whinnied in a desperate attempt to ward the demon away. "Yes, fear me!" he cried, acknowledging the primal basis of their terror. He entered the barn for one reason, and one reason only.
"Cojiro!" his voice broke into a sob at the sight of his horse. The animal's legs were tethered to the walls of the stall by iron shackles. Blazed across the horse's once sloping back were lash markings. The stallion's mane and tail was a tangled mess, and with a near deafening scream the horse's head thrashed up and down, until it arched upon its haunches and attempted to rear into the air. The short length of the chains dragged its hooves back onto the floor. "What have they done to you?" Joachim swept forth toward the stall, but stopped when Cojiro's front hooves pounded against the door. Another loud scream erupted from within the horses' throat that startled the other equines. He extended his hand through the barred window of the stall door. At first, the horse threw its head back and gnashed its glistening ivories at him, its fear making it willing enough to tear him to pieces. The equine strained against the chains, throwing its head back as its ears flattened upon its head. For a moment, he believed his horse would not recognize him, for his skin was deathly white and dead. Yet, the equine's dark, glistening eyes remained locked upon him - studying the demon intently.
The chains rattled with each step it took toward him, until he felt the soft muzzle of the horse brush against the bars of the stall window. He considered pulling away, for the animal's unpredictable behavior made it dangerous. Memories flooded into his mind – of happier days spent in the fields in the sunlight. He felt the equine's tension and fear as much as if it were his own. A horse like Cojiro was a rarity, even in Romania, where some of the finest horses were bred. Ironically, the gypsies scorned by the world produced some of the most beautiful, pure, and strong equines known. Cojiro, however, descended from the east – the foal of a mare given to his father by the Pope. A purebred Arabian, whose spirited nature rivaled his own. A softened snort blew from the stallion's flared nostrils until his hand stroked its velvety muzzle. He looked at the iron shackles binding the animal within the stall. With hardly a nod, he permitted the blood-soaked blades to leave him and break the shackles around the beast's legs.
Once freed, the equine nuzzled him gently, its love for its master making it forget its fear of him. Joachim noticed the fine indents of his horse's ribcage showing through its silver coat. The animal was in worse condition than he anticipated. He blew a soft whistling tune through his lips, beckoning his stallion to follow him out of the barn. The equine obeyed, though its steps were slow and haggard, and it walked with a strange limp. Despite the animal's stress, it managed to hobble outside and stand beside him. He was unsure what to do next. If he released his horse into the woods, it would quickly fall victim to wolves and other predators. The beast had done so much for him when he was human. Although he could end its suffering, a different option seemed more fitting.
With a sigh, he ran his hand across the animal's back, careful to avoid its wounds as he pressed his face against its soft, silky neck. The horse stiffened under his touch but did not pull away. He tenderly stroked the animal's neck as he whispered softly under his breath. "Cojiro… I cannot let you die. Humans have been cruel to you but I never will be. I promise." The horse whickered in response and remained where it stood, never once showing any fear of what he was about to do. He had never turned anyone or anything before. As much as he feared what would happen, he gave in to the thirst and punctured the beast's neck with his fangs. Sweet, warm blood flowed into his mouth and down his throat. Animal blood was far different than he expected. Although it was rich, it did not satisfy him like human blood. It was easy for him to remove his fangs from the horse's flesh once he had taken his fill. Streams of blood trickled down the horse's fine, silver coat and stained it red. For a moment, the equine seemed paralyzed and verged on collapsing. However, when he began to fear he might have fatally wounded the creature, the beast reared and thrashed its hooves against the sky, like Pegasus preparing to take flight. Joachim backed away, awed by the sight, his eyes widening until the horse landed with a resounding thump upon the earth. A feral snort escaped the equine's flared nostrils, before it tossed its head, clicking its incisors as it turned and galloped madly toward the fields. He knew not what he had done, though the creature's transformation had already begun. A sort of cold and unearthly glint had flashed through Cojiro's dark eyes. Undoubtedly, his beloved companion would find him again to serve him in death, as it had loyally served him in life.
I shall summon you again, eventually, Cojiro. I have not found the monster, even after covering the streets of this village with blood. I pray Catherine is unharmed by it, for I know not the nature of the creature these humans fear, nor if it even exists at all. Walter did not return to Creightel so I must doubt the validity of its existence.
Where are you, Catherine? Are you praying to God for my safe return? Where did you disappear to the night Walter marked my neck with his kiss? If you saw me, I know you would not run…for you love me…even though I do not love myself. I am so…alone…without you….
He encountered one of the only buildings his fires had not burned, the last place he knew Catherine frequented. The cathedral loomed before him, and with a renewed bout of rage he arched his frame back as the earth surrounding the entire building formed a jagged crack. The smoke intensified into a thick blanket that covered everything in a veil of gray. The glass shattered from the heat of the flames, and in its wake left a strange alluring figure present behind what remained of the glass around the edges of the window frame. Joachim blinked several times at what he saw and was unable to hold back a gasp when he caught the faintest glimpse of long, ebony hair. The second he drifted toward it, the figure vanished within the burning building. "Catherine?" His voice choked under the smoke and his eyes began to sting from the heat.
The building was close to collapsing under the devouring flames. Without a moment to waste, he flew toward the burning cathedral and levitated higher to reach the window. His eyes widened when a burst of smoke flew into his face. In spite of the danger, he dove through the window and floated between the pews. The heat and smoke were so intense his skin began to sear. Without warning, one of the support beams in the ceiling gave way and tumbled down, its heavy wooden frame threatening to crush him beneath it. He managed to dart out of the way and rolled, barely missing the beam when it landed upon the floor with a devastating thump. Pieces of stonework collapsed from the ceiling above. Bursts of smoke filtered through and veiled the night sky beyond. The church had become a burning chasm of hell that sought to imprison the pale occupant within its trembling walls. His eyes fought to see through the blinding smoke, whilst his chest wheezed as he struggled to breathe. The fire was spreading far more quickly than he anticipated. The flames began to climb across the ceiling near the alter. Yet, when he caught sight of a familiar, amethyst dress, he forgot about the danger surrounding him.
"Catherine!" His voice was lost in the suffocating heat. Perspiration covered his cold, white flesh when he flew toward a shadow appearing within the smoke. To his dismay, the figure was gone. A loud, threatening groan from the cathedral warned him that the last of its stronghold was about to give way. There was no time left for him to continue the search. He focused his thoughts, increasing the aura around his body until he flew through the hole in the ceiling.
The cool night air greeted him when he landed upon the ground in front of the burning building. Not a moment later, the cathedral's stone structure gave way, and it collapsed into a heap of smoldering flames. Unable to look at the destruction anymore, he turned to leave – but saw something that made him fall completely still. A figure stood in front of him, cloaked in the darkness of the night. The young man's pale optics abruptly widened, for he recognized whom it was. A pair of dull, green eyes locked upon him whilst she approached, her face a mask of both relief and horror. Within the shadows, the woman's pale skin contrasted starkly against her long, ebony hair. As if far away, her soft voice called his name whilst she fell to her knees upon the ground. Her heart wrenching sobs broke their silence. "Is that you, Joachim?"
At first, he could say nothing, for his will to speak was overwrought by shame. He covered his face with his hands and shrunk away from her as a terrible feeling seeped within his tainted soul. Barely able to control himself, his voice choked out her name.
"Catherine?" He could not believe he had found her at last. He sought to embrace her but stopped, for his body, face, and hands were covered in blood. Without looking at her, he rasped desperately. "This was all my doing! Stay away from me! I don't want to hurt you!"
"Nothing can hurt me anymore."
Never before had he heard such grief and pain from her. It was as if some unseen force drained all the joy inside her away. Although he was not fully conscious of it, he sensed something was deeply wrong. Catherine's beautiful form crumpled over the ground. Locks of her thick, ringlets, spilled down her back and in front of her face. Despite his fear, the sight of her pain and grief drew him closer. The pale angel of death took her into his arms, unwilling to allow her to suffer. Yet, when he felt her hands wrap around his back, there was not the slightest warmth from her touch. The woman's face rested against his armored chest, spilling hot, wet tears across its metallic surface. He sensed it then. A voice inside him screamed out his denial until he caught sight of her bloodstained dress. A bitter sob escaped his throat as he tilted his head toward the smoke-covered stars and released a loud, broken wail into the night. He clutched her closer as his finely tipped ears listened for her heartbeat. Silence. "No, Catherine!" His entire body trembled, threatening to break apart as he held her close, as if his love could restore their shattered souls. Desperate, unyielding love, that he felt for her since the day they met. Everything was for naught. Though they reunited, the scent of the blood he spilt lured her to him. "No! Not you! Oh God, why did you let her fall? Why does everything I love have to die!"
"Joachim!" he heard her voice cry out whilst she lifted her head. He stared at her pale, lifeless face. Though it was Catherine's, he barely recognized who she was. The fear within her made her eyes grow wide and her ashen lips tremble when she breathed. "Do not cry…please…everything will be all right. Stay here with me, just a little longer…so we can forget about our pain while we are together."
"No! I cannot forget!" He sobbed, unable to prevent himself from releasing the grief locked inside his heart as he gazed at her lovely, pale face, and pulled her to his chest. The woman's long, amethyst dress floated around him as he held her in his arms, unwilling to let her go. "Seeing you reminds me that what I want most in this world can never be mine! You must not be damned as I am! I would go to hell to save your soul from this fate!"
"Tis' too late…" she whispered weakly. He felt her fingers slip between his own. The coldness of her touch sent shivers through his body. He caught the scent of blood upon her breath when she spoke. The bright, cheerful glimmer in her eyes was consumed by the horror of discovering that his fate was no different than her own. "I have always been yours, even though I have been lost for so long, now. I weep to see you this way, Joachim. I am certain God does as well. The darkness in my soul is consuming me. I can feel it growing stronger each night and I fear it…"
"I am here with you, and I will allow no one to harm you. Catherine, you are the reason why the light inside me did not die." He buried his face in her hair, catching her sweet scent whilst he lifted her up. If there were any people left alive, he was certain they would try to kill them both. Joachim searched the streets for cover until he arrived at her house, which was the only building left standing amidst the ruined village. With the swiftness of a bird, he flew up the steps to her bedroom. There was nowhere they could be free of death and hardship. He had never entered Catherine's room until that night. It was barely half the size of his own room in his manor. The walls and carpet were bare. There was no furniture within it, except for a small wooden nightstand beside the door. Located next to the bedroom's large, single window, was a modest bed. A vase filled with wilted violets was set on the windowsill. Joachim laid Catherine down upon the bed and spooned next to her. He felt her hands take his and pull them in front of her whilst he lay beside her, keeping her close. There was no moon that night. Black, smoky clouds of death veiled the purity of its light.
As they lay holding each other, she whispered sadly. "Forgive me, Joachim…every night I am starting to forget who I am. People hunt me in the dark, seeking out the creature that took the lives of those they loved." A pained sob escaped her throat and she paused to compose herself. However, tears began to stream down her ashen cheeks as she confessed. "I…killed my own father…" Her thin, petite form, shuddered with a will that could have made her fall apart. "I doubted you when you said not to trust…him."
"It doesn't matter now." He whispered, for he knew it was too late. No matter how much his heart ached, what happened to her – to them both – could not be undone. With a trembling sigh, he fought back the tears in his eyes whilst he added softly. "I am the one who needs forgiveness, Catherine. I thought I could protect you…but I failed." Joachim's hand reached out and stroked her hair, unable to speak, for no words could ease her suffering. The fateful night he was tainted meant the end of innocence. He had not imagined that Catherine would meet the same, terrible fate. Hell was not good enough for Walter. If a place worse than hell existed, he would eagerly cast his lord there and delight in his torment.
Now I know the truth. You tainted the only woman I loved. For that, I will never forgive you! Never, ever, will I forgive you for the crime you committed upon her soul and my own. You have damned us all!
Nevertheless, a ray of hope shone through the blackness encompassing his heart and soul. "It was no fault of your own!" He sighed, restraining the sobs beginning to build inside him from the fact he could not ease her sorrow. "I know the deadly hunger, for I too, have fallen to it. Come with me; we will get away from here-"
"No." She breathed. Her hold tightened around and her voice strained. "I would sooner die than witness the suffering of your soul. In time, I will not love you anymore….because I will no longer know you…"
The idea of losing him to the curse was more than she could bear. He, too, knew the thirst for blood was all-consuming. His pale eyes scanned the scar on her neck – the evidence of Walter's crime. Like her, he could feel something inside him slowly but surely fading away. Joachim gently wiped away her tears."You know me now, and that is all that matters." He pressed his cheek against hers. Even though her skin was cold, he did not love her any less. He could feel her pain when he touched her as much as if it were his own. The window next to the bed faced the eastern sky. He was content to remain with her, for he had expended his will to live. Now that he knew Walter's crime, he could never return to Eternal Night. Indeed, he hoped he would not look upon the demon's face ever again. "I will stay with you." He choked, unable to restrain his tears as he mourned their ill fate. "Perhaps, the next life will be kinder to us than this one."
"This life was kind." She whispered as her voice choked back her sobs. He saw tears filling her emerald eyes whilst a soft, sad smile spread across her lips. "Because I met you, and for that, I am grateful. Death is not a shadow, Joachim, but the light…that will take us both into heaven."
"I doubt I shall go there." His voice became monotone at the thought. He had done too many terrible things in his life. He imagined that when his spirit ascended, he would find heaven's gates locked and angels ready to cast his wretched soul away. Down, deep, into the pits of hell, where he belonged. The young man closed his eyes. Let it happen, for I am unworthy…
"That is untrue!" She cried and sat up, her dark eyes glittering in the firelight glowing ominously beyond the windowpane. Even though hell surrounded them, she was unwilling to let him fall. "I will see you and our daughter…in heaven."
A soft, gentle smile played across his wan lips. The young man's pale eyes glistened with hope. Would they still be the same after their spirits left their bodies? It was miraculous that she still tried to retain her humanity in spite of the horror and grief she endured. For the first time since he was tainted, genuine happiness filled every fiber of his being. Joachim watched Catherine turn and face him. Her emerald eyes glittered in the darkened room until her soft, cool lips brushed against his. She wound her arms around his back, kissing him deeply. The blood on their clothing seeped into the sheets and stained the fabric red. In that moment, he was prepared to shed his pain and let it fall away. Catherine's hands untied the bindings on his armor until she freed him of the bloody, steel encasement. With a sigh, he fell back against the pillow, allowing her to slide his bloodstained robes away.
They would save each other from the darkness.
His fingers slid down her dress, feeling the soft, amethyst fabric until he untied her corset. The woman's pale, white flesh appeared before his eyes, startling him at first. Remembrances of a time they shared before, that he thought would never come again, until that night. Gentle, delicate hands pulled her naked form against his, unwilling to let her go. They rolled, and entangled themselves in the sheets until his lithe frame covered her. Once lost in pain, they found themselves again in each other. Fragile memories…things left undone…and words unspoken. None of it mattered, anymore. He could feel her, and everything she was, without needing to look back at his human self. The childish innocence she possessed was still there. He saw it in her eyes, when she looked up at him, the sadness washed away by his love. Hands that once ripped apart human throats gently kneaded her breasts. His fingers danced across the ashen flesh, admiring its beauty as they tickled the pebble-like protrusions of her nipples. A soft gasp parted through her lips, briefly revealing the sharp points of her fangs. Without hesitating, he kissed her again, refusing to see her as he saw himself. A smile flashed across his lips as they covered her right areola, his tongue dancing across her nipple, whilst he heard her throat release a soft, barely audible moan. His lips took the object into his mouth and tightened around it, suckling upon it gently whilst his left hand cupped the base of her breast, feeling her body tremble under the familiarity of his caressing hand. Joachim licked her tender nipple with his wandering tongue, his motions slow and easeful for fear that she would break under the power of his emotions, which he kept locked away for her alone. Only she knew his body, soul, and heart truly. Her presence rescued him from his nightmare and returned him to the world – and himself.
His hand slid away from her breast, trailing across her delicate torso until arriving upon the dark, wiry hair covering her mound. He felt her shift under his touch, her face a mask of pleasure and relief, for love would heal his broken soul as well as hers. Joachim stroked the curls of hair, his frail fingertips combing through the sensitive hairs before reaching the organ veiled beneath them. A part of him hated the fact that he knew the pleasures of the world, as Mathias said he did. Once lost, innocence could never be regained. Tears welled in his eyes when he felt her body against his own and saw her lips form into a faint smile. He felt the heat of her breath skim across his pallid cheeks, whilst her hands caressed his hair, silently confirming her need for love. His index finger probed her lower region, feeling the warm, slick wetness of her arousal until he found her entrance. For a moment, he hesitated and covered her lips with his own, attempting to find his humanity in the passion of their kiss. Joachim had lost and found himself simultaneously that night. The sweet taste of Catherine's lips reassured him of who he was, since for a long time, he thought he did not know. He was Joachim Armster. Not even Walter's lust - or dare he imagine, love - would destroy him.
As their lips locked, her insides accepted the slow, gradual feel of his descending index finger. Her body tensed abruptly, adjusting to his massaging touch and tightening around him. Despite the pleasure he enticed from her body, his motions were careful and precise, for he wanted to draw out her pleasure as long as he was able. Another soon joined his index finger, and whilst her gasps filled his ears, he deepened his descent. Joachim immersed himself in the warmth of her body, which seemed so alive despite the stillness of her heart. He rubbed her insides, feeling her ecstasy build as she writhed beneath him, her chest heaving as her throat fought to speak his name. "Joachim…Joachim…I…need…" Even though she did not finish, he knew she only wished to express her need for him. He increased his force upon her insides, feeling her tighten around his raking fingers as he found her sweet spot.
His lips descended upon hers once again whilst he explored her insides, hearing her voice erupt into a moan while her body buckled beneath him, succumbing to his gentle touch. "I won't leave you," he whispered in her ear, his voice as soft and breathless as a dying wind. "You always believed in me. I never understood…how much you meant to me…until now. I will treasure this moment…for like many things in life…nothing lasts forever…" Upon hearing the love in his words, her eyes widened, torn between happiness and sorrow whilst his rubbing fingers drove her to a climax. Her body convulsed under the rapturous pleasures, her arms tightening around his back, pulling him closer as if to merge their two souls into one. Everything began to wash away and disappear, their emotions converging until nothing was distinguishable except their mutual longing for closeness. Years of innocence, and memories of friendship all led toward an evitable climax of a love unbroken by despair.
His hands combed through the thick locks of her raven hair, brushing back strands that had fallen against her damp, flushed cheeks. Catherine withdrew a deep breath, blinking in the darkness as she rested beneath his slender frame. Two pale bodies, pressed together amidst bloodstained sheets. With a grateful sigh, she returned his kiss and twined her tongue around his, drawing him into her depths. After tasting him, her legs lifted and parted, inviting him into her a second time. The intimacy of the act itself frightened him; for he remembered the sorrow it wrought when he accepted her offering and took it, willingly. He had once been naïve, overwhelmed by curiosity and passion to the point of thoughtlessness. Yet, he remembered that there was no tomorrow for either of them. It was odd that he looked upon tomorrow wistfully, for it was too soon to say good-bye, even though eternity could have been his. Eternity was a lonely shadow following him. It did not comfort him, for it required something too dear to his heart in exchange which he could not relinquish, even for Walter's sake. Walter committed the ultimate betrayal to his heart…and for it, Joachim would leave the red-haired lord to the mercy of darkness and solitude. Walter deserved it most of all. Joachim would wound the demon with his rejection, and destroy Walter's hope when he drew his last breath in the sun's golden light. He embraced Catherine, as well as his own death to escape from bloodlust. The price of eternal life meant the erosion of his memories – and his human self – until nothing remained except an empty shell of a man. Eternity would mark his self-damnation, unless he chose to spit upon Walter's face by rejecting the demon's 'gift' a final time.
A smile crept across the corners of his lips as he lifted himself above Catherine's frame, his face hovering over hers, her emerald eyes absorbing his pale blue. He shuddered with delight upon feeling her hands slide across his groin, her dainty fingertips brushing over the hard, jutting organ between his legs that would unite their two, separate bodies in a rhythmic symphony. Her hands caressed the blood-filled member, lightly touching the slick wet head as he swiveled his hips forward and brought it near her opening. Her hands lifted away as she wrapped her arms around his back, cocooning him against her. He listened to her breath hitch in that instant, awaiting the inevitable convergence to follow. Pain soon transformed into pleasure, and loneliness into bliss. He tossed his head back, and felt his smooth, ivory hair fall against his shoulders as he slid himself inside her. Joachim felt the tender flesh of her opening give way, accommodating the stiff, protruding member as it descended. His body tensed, his muscles straining as he felt her tighten in discomfort until the bulbous head was embedded fully inside. A thousand lightning bolts of pleasure struck through his entire being, making his ligaments tremble, and his initial descent slow and easeful.
Her nails dug lightly into his back as he began to move, rolling his hips forward in a gentle, rocking rhythm. The sky beyond the window was lightening to welcome the dawn. Yet, he remained calm, as though the hands of time had suddenly stopped during their union. He felt her buck beneath him and lift her hips, allowing him to move even further inside her depths. Moans of pleasure escaped Catherine's throat, matched by his own as he began to thrust. She moved with him, synchronizing her body to his gentle rhythm until he gained the momentum he desired. Joachim lifted himself up, continuing to thrust, while he restrained the urge to come. The pain and pleasure of their union converged within his soul. Cries of pleasure, sorrow, pain, and love filled his throat while his ashen skin glistened. He saw her looking up at him, a smile pressed across her lips while he made her his. He pressed himself against her until he was nearly sitting upright, his hips rolling forward and back, his mind barely conscious of his movements. His pace quickened as he released a moan, encouraging her to follow when he smothered her briefly with a kiss. Her body moved with his rhythm, accepting his pace flawlessly, at last fulfilling his aching desire to feel her – and everything she was – completely. As he thrust himself inside her, his thoughts fleetingly wandered to his lord, pleased by the fact that he had defied Walter in the most intimate way he knew. Joachim called her name repeatedly as though lost in a fog, reassured only by the sound of her voice speaking his in return. Yet, he heard her speak something else, a reply to the bittersweet lament of his heart.
"Love lasts forever, Joachim."
Although his mind wished to make it last, his thrusting organ drew him to a climax. With a final broken cry, he ejaculated, and emptied himself into her until exhaustion overtook his heaving frame. The youth withdrew and watched the milky white fluid slide down the inside of her thighs, flinching at the sight of it as she smiled and pulled him down next to her. Joachim gazed into Catherine's tired, emerald eyes, knowing it would be the last time he would see her face. Whilst they lay next to her, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, desiring sleep from which he would never awaken. A gentle sigh parted through his lips when he nestled closer to her, securing her in his embrace until sleep drew his thoughts to a close.
"Catherine…"
Yet, in his haze of contentment, he did not sense the figure looming over the bed. Coils of blood red hair brushed lightly across its ashen visage. The figure's dark gaze fell upon the two naked forms sleeping soundly amidst the tangled sheets. Two fallen angels waiting for God to reclaim them – unaware that heaven was still far away. Glowing red eyes flashed within the darkened room, whilst the tall, armored creature approached the bed…
…Only one would be saved…
End of Part II