Disclaimer:…I Am the Ninja Turtles, really I Am!
Chapter Eleven
Trevor smiled wildly, humored by the reaction he got from the younger vampire. However, it meant nothing to Owen. His sword pricked the soft flesh of the vampire's throat. Not enough to maim him, but enough to draw blood.
"Why are you here?" Owen's voice was no more than a guttural growl against the heavy silence that had settled in the room, the sword never moving from its owner's adversary.
Trevor couldn't help but smile.
"You were so engrossed with what you were doing; you completely missed my presence… until it was too late." He grinned cheekily at Owen's narrowing eyes. Owen took the offensive, annoyed and enraged over the entire situation. Trevor should not have been there in the first place, not to mention, chiding him for his lack of focus on his surroundings.
"You talk too much for someone that can be decapitated with a flick of my wrist." Owen all but mouthed, the sword prodding Trevor's throat as an example. The blood flowed down his neck.
Apathetically, Trevor raised an eyebrow.
"You talk too much for someone that should be dead by now." He retaliated with ease, his eyes blinking knowledgably, the smirk never leaving his lips. Owen growled, the sword deepening in its depth. Trevor, without batting an eye, looked away with a wave of his hand. "I could have killed you at anytime, and believe me, I would have jumped at the opportunity, but sadly…there are bigger things to worry about right now." Trevor stated matter-of-factly growing serous towards the end.
Owen grew tired of Trevor's moving mouth and seriously contemplated putting the horrible vampire out of his misery, but his intrigue at Trevor's words kept him from making the final cut.
"Bigger things?" The sword lightened its bite, but never moved from its place in Trevor's throat. Trevor nodded slowly, his neck never leaving the bite of the sword.
"Yes, I came to warn you." He stated simply.
Owen seethed. He didn't believe that "warn you" crap for a second, but he would get to the bottom of it nevertheless.
"Warn me? Warn me about what?" Trevor looked up at the inquiry, his eyes dancing. Owen knew what he wanted.
Slowly, cautiously, he lowered his sword, keeping his eyes on the trespassing vampire as he did. Trevor waited, smirking at the ruffled Owen as the sword found its place in its sheath. The bleeding wound sealed up before his eyes, but Owen paid it little mind. Meanwhile, Trevor smirked.
"I was wondering when you were going to put that poor excuse of a weapon away." Trevor stated absently as he made his way over to the couch, sitting down. Owen watched him, growing angry at his sudden appearance, and now his unsolicited homeliness. Nevertheless, despite Owen's obvious abhorrence towards him, Trevor still smiled up at his rival, his eyes dancing. 'I know something you don't.' they seemed to say.
Owen watched him disgustingly.
"What do you want, or is it bigger than that too?" Owen snarled, sarcasm dripping from the tenor in his voice. He couldn't help but feel completely on edge and agitated at the vampire's lack of explanation; the fact that Trevor was even in his house, on his couch and smirking up at him didn't seem to help matters much either …
Trevor met his gaze, finally going serous. He held back the bubble of hate that flowed from his gut at the younger vampire's sarcasm, but he let it go. Usually he would have release it, his gun making his hatred known. But, if he wanted this mission to be successful, he would have to let it go, if only for tonight.
"Well, actually, I wanted to make a proposal." He stated quietly, keeping his voice in check and the unsurpassed loathe and anger that flowed through him with that statement, in line.
At the word 'proposal' Owen grimaced. The last time he had heard that word, his entire life had changed.
Obliviously (well, not really) Trevor continued, feeling the smile reform on his lips as he did.
"I want you to join me, taking you place as my apprentice as you should have in the beginning." He stated, forcing the sincerity into his voice.
Owen watched the vampire as if he had just grown two heads.
Join him?!
He must be off his rocker!
Owen scowled. His hatred and disgust for the vampire before him grew with every passing moment, turning his vision blood red with rage.
"Get. Out." He growled, a sudden glare thrown in the vampire's direction. In his absolute anger, the barriers within his mind and body began to crack; the balance of powers shifting from one end of the spectrum to the other. Along with the ends of his clothing and his hair, random objects began to levitate, although oblivious to the angered Owen. Meanwhile, his aura flowed from him, adding black shadows to his already pale face.
Trevor frowned, sneering at how angry he had seemed to make the younger vampire.
Now he would never complete his mission.
Un-phased by the floating objects and the obvious change in bearing, he continued, angered at his failure, and then at the vampire before him.
"You had so much potential, Owen." He stated icily, his own calm anger adding to the already chilled room. Owen snarled as the older vampire continued. "I turned you into one of us because of that potential, but now, I see that it was a waste. A complete waste."
Trevor shook his head.
"Get out!" Owen growled once again, the dam cracking and crumpling under the monstrous pressure. However, Trevor was not finished. Ignoring him, he continued once more.
"You were an even bigger failure as a vampire, than as a man. I should have kill you from the beginning, at least then you would have been of use to the wolves and animals as they fed upon you. It was a waste of my blood to turn you into what you are; blood that you didn't even deserve. You don't deserve the blood that flows through you, you don't even deserve the human blood that you drink.
All you disserve is death;
You and your new freak of a pet!"
Owen watched him, shocked, Trevor's last few words racking his thoughts with a jolt.
He knew about Donny.
He knew about Donatello all along.
Owen seethed.
The sanctity of the turtles were now in jeopardy because of him, but Owen knew that he would do everything in his power to keep them safe, no matter what the cost. However, Trevor's next and final statements were the ones that finally topped the cake, sending everything into motion with his scornful words…
"You disserved death, just as your family di-"
That was all Trevor got out. Owen reared up, his bellow like the yell of a thousand demons.
"GET OUT!" The flood damns lay destroyed as his full power flowed free from its restraints. As a result, Owen's unseeing eyes seeped into a harsh gold, his feet lifting from the ground as the aura of hatred and anger flowed through and around him. The vampire on the other end watched on as Owen lifted up, his entire ensemble floating up as well as if carried by wind. The vampire's arms slowly extended, his open palm facing him…and that was all he saw. He was blinded by the wild and swift barrage of objects that shot his way before his vision went absolutely white at the sharp pain in his chest. The invisible force seemed to pound into him, heavier and more forceful than the fastest car. It sent him flying, he hit the window hard. A crack echoed the room as his ribs broke from under the blinding force. However, in that same split second, another sound rung out; the breaking of glass. The force had sent Trevor clear across the room and through the closed window.
He fell into the night air.
And was gone.
~~~~
"Daddy, I made something for you."
Owen looked up at the sudden presence, the outline of his little girl barely visible amongst the shadows. Owen smiled, motioning the young girl over and around his large desk. He pulled the bundle into his lap, brush away a curly lock of hair from her eyes as he did.
"Yes Christina, what did you want to show me?" He asked her, truly curious. She had mentioned that she was working on something before when she was in the kitchen with her mother. However, when he asked about it, she smiled, stating that it was a surprise and that 'A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains.' He has smiled at the proverb she recite; she definitely got that from her mother.
Now, hours later, she sat on his lap, her hand still expectantly behind her back. Owen smiled warmly at her bright eyes, her grin: the smile of a thousand angels.
She removed her hand from her back.
Owen gasped, holding the cherished present.
"Oh, Christina! How did you-"
Cristina smiled smugly at her father's obvious surprise. "Well, momma held a little, but I did most of the fixing. See daddy!"
Cristina excitedly pulled the black book from her father's hands, opening the pages. Markings and old notes inhabited the borders of the pages.
The hand writing of his father.
"See, it's your old bible, but we fixed it." She closed the book, displaying the new leather that coated the front. In gold, on the very top, the script 'The Bible' shimmered in new splendor.
His father's bible was now renewed.
As Owen looked over the book in silent wonder, it only seemed to make Christina only that more excited. She took the book one more time, showing him the last and best part.
"And daddy, see, We even put our names in it!" Christina excitedly pulled the book from out of his large hands, this time, flipping to the back of the cover. Owen read the small script aloud.
"To our loving husband and tender father.
~Anna and Christina Cromwell."
A tear slipped down his cheek. Christina watched him, her confusing bleeding into her angelic face. Why was he crying?
"Don't you like it daddy?" She asked, frowning. The thought of him not liking it made her sad. However, that thought was pushed away as Owen brought his little girl into his strong arms, hugging her tenderly, his tears finally flowing freely.
"I love it." He whispered into her hair. And indeed, he did.
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Owen slumped to the ground, physically and mentally drained. If he thought he was tired before, he had been sorely mistaken. He could barely stand at the moment, his head barely able to keep itself up. However, Owen collected the reserve within himself to stand, looking around his apartment in slow shock.
It was completely destroyed.
The broken glass still littered the hard wood floor, the blood of Trevor coloring it red as if painting the picture of the violence that had occurred that night. A draft seeped in through the now opened window, making the room colder than it already was. Owen turned, eyeing everything around him. The furniture lay toppled and broken as things had flown everywhere. All sorts of sharp objects, and even a few dull ones, lined the far wall, near and around where Trevor had been standing. He didn't remember those in his fury, as he didn't remember much of anything. His mind had gone blank as he broke, the power flowing from his body freely and absolutely.
But who knew it could cause such destruction?
Well, he did know one thing; it had been his force that had destroyed his home.
Anger is a very strong emotion. If not kept in check, it had the power to destroy lives, families…
And in this case
An apartment.
Owen sighed, complete defeated. Everything was beyond repair, even the other rooms were affected by his rage.
His mattress lay on the floor, his bed spring snapped right in two. His drier lay toppled and broken, useless. Even in his bathroom, the back half of bath tub lay cracked and broken; the sink lay on the floor in the same condition. The only thing that seemed to be unaffected by the mental rampage was his refrigerate, and even that sat open. Owen's journey ended in the kitchen, looking into the open refrigerator. Six packets of blood lay on its gradually warming shelves. Slowly, he put them in his pockets, one by one.
He had come to his decision.
Vampires were travelers by nature, never staying one place for too long.
And he was no exception.
His house was trashed, way beyond repair.
So he would just have to leave.
He walked through the trashed den and into his bedroom. His bed stand table lay in the corner, it contents sprawled everywhere. He searched the mess, smiling sadly as he came upon the objects he had been looking for.
A small black book followed by a hand made wooden cross inhabited his pale palms. He put the cross in his pocket, the leather strap barely going in. However, all of his attention lay on the black book. He slowly opened it reading the scrip just as he had every day for the past millennium.
"To our loving husband and tender father.
~Anna and Christina Cromwell."
This time there were no tears. These words were only remnants, remnants of what was and would never be.
He turned, walking away from the apartment.
He could now leave this place without turning back.
And he did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Were you able to persuade him, follower?"
'No master, I was not.' Knees fell to the ground. There was silence.
"Then he shall die with the rest in the death and destruction of this world, as it should have been in the beginning." Black eyes looked up from the ground. The follower's ashen face mirrored mild surprise before melting into smugness. That had been what he wanted all along, but his master had objected. But now, since the object in question was deemed useless to their cause, he was now an enemy, as well as the rest of man kind. His master's voice spoke up, cutting off his thoughts.
"Now go. Tell the others what I have told you." The follower stood, turning from the black room. After a moment, the demon called out to him one more time.
"You have failed me tonight, Trevor, and for that there will be repercussions…" Trevor stopped but did not turn back. He nodded once before continuing; he would be punished for his disobedience, there was no way around that. But he would gladly follow his master.
With the coming of that same master came the destruction of the world he loathed, so for that he would suffer gladly for the benefit of their elite group.
He left the room. The demon's yellow eyes followed his retreating figure.
He scowled.
They had needed the one they called Owen in his ranks, his powers being well beyond the other fallen angles, his blood line being the closest to the all powerful Arch-Angel, Seraphim, herself.
A great commodity to any revolutionary army. Easily he could have been a general, but no.
That would not be.
He would die with the rest of their weakened blood brothers.
And with their death came the beginning of his reign. Drakoc, the top general of the Beelzebubian Army, would finally reign as Supreme.
But he would have to come to this world, first.
'My followers will take care of that…' He smiled smugly as his presence disappeared from the dark room, and from the earth as a whole. Back to the fiery depths of hell he went.
Shunned, he could not hold his presence on earth for very long. But with the help of followers,
Soon…Very Soon,
He would hold his presence there permanently, as he reigned on high as Sovereign.
~~~
A/N: Sorry, I can't give away much, this chapter is supposed to raise questions, which I believe it did! *sees a million hands go up* But I'm sorry, you're all gonna have to wait for the answers. *a million dejected hands go down* I know, I know, it's cruel. But it's the way things just have to be. Hey, but to keep you guys busy, look up the word "Seraphim" and you will understand that a little better (although you will still be in the dark as to what that means in the story exactly) For the purpose of the story, I made it into an Arch-Angel, which will end up being pretty cool, if I do say so my self.
Sadly that is all I can tell you. You'll have to wait for more to learn anything else….SO REVIEW IN THE MEAN TIME!…so I don't feel sad and not continue because of it…*SMILES EVILLY*
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I bet you guys are a little bit confused *blank stares from everyone*….HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! Then I've done my job :D (Don't worry everything will be explained, and for that I am excited. A LOT of stuff to come!) R and R