isclaimer: I don't own the characters of this fic.
Thanks again for reviewing. It always lights up my mood when I hear someone likes this.
Marcus and Sons' White Lilies
Kurtis stepped out of the taxi and payed the driver who drove of as soon as all the doors where closed and he had gotten his money. Kurtis watched the taxi until he couldn't see it anymore. What was so horrible in this place that the driver couldn't take him to the address written on the piece of paper? The driver had given him brief instructions of where to go but he was still quite lost. He knew he was on the right street because the name on a placate indicating the street name told him so. What made him feel lost was the very fact there were no building numbers - not a one. he hoped it wasn't a long street and there was at least some sign indicating the funeral home. If this was so bad a place why did they have a funeral home there? Why did they have anything at all there?
Almost all of the buildings in the area seemed ramshackled and of some buildings there was no telling anymore what was their original color. Surprisingly some of the buildings had survived the turning of the wheel of time. It reminded him of immortality; while other buildings grew old and lost their paint some remained in the condition they had always been in. He doubted that anyone lived here anymore but some of the buildings looked like they had had their share of love. They were colorful gems in the ocean of grayness. Years of abandonment had caused their state or was it the simple fact of life that nothing lasts forever. His thoughts were once again filled with the Nephilim race. They weren't immortal, not in the real meaning of the word. Immortals couldn't be killed. He started walking hoping he'd find the funeral home soon.
He walked as fast as he could but still tried not to make any noise. It wouldn't do him good if someone was to overhear him and even if he wasn't a 'normal' human he could be surprised. There were lots of shadows on this street. Lots of places where one could easily hide and if it was almost dark like it was today a normal eye couldn't make out the hidden ones' outlines. Anyone could be hiding in the shadows and he wouldn't have a clue. He might 'feel' the hidden ones' presence like any human being. A feeling causing shivers traveling down the spine, a feeling that one wasn't completely alone. It revealed it's claws on the evenings like this hauling every traveler unlucky enough to its lair.
Kurtis' eyes stopped on a window covered with painted lilies. The building stood out from its grayish and ramshackled surrounding. Its walls were shining with paint colored light green and it looked like they had been painted yesterday. Among all this grayness someone still cared about the little house enough to make it shine. That was probably it. Even though the sign over the door had seen better days the name on it was still readable; Marcus and Sons' White Lilies. If he remember correctly white lilies symbolized life after death or in some cultures just death. The name itself didn't sound very much like an ordinary funeral home. White lilies made at least him think something totally else than death - peace of mind and serenity. The door didn't look very inviting; it was made of dark wood, probably rosewood and the doorcnocker on it was painted black. Either the walls were just painted and the door had never been changed or the paint was taken care of royally and the door was brand new. Perhaps the door just meant the dark spot in death that people were afraid of. Just the blind spot in the painless realm, the last gate living beings traveled through before gaining peace. There was a small tilted square shaped window with glass that couldn't be seen through. Perhaps it could be pierced another kind of way.
Once more he looked around still seeing no one before relaxing a bit. He took a step back and closed his eyes letting his mind venture away from his body. His farsee ability separated his mind from his body leaving the world of flesh and entering the weightless world. Like air he flew through the smoky glass and entered the funeral home. He floated awhile in the small hallway then entering the kitchen. No one was there and nothing seemed to be out of ordinary. He had seen hundreds of kitchens before and all of them had started to look the same. He exited the kitchen and flew to the living room which was nothing out of ordinary. Pictures of smiling faces on the walls showing something he himself had never had - a family. Of course he had had one but his mother was long gone and his father had probably cared more for a total stranger than his son. He had seen it in Konstantin's eyes - in his presence they were lifeless and dull but as soon as some of his friends was present the man was full of life and laughter. He exited the living room and went downstairs finding a small morgue which at least was something one couldn't find from every house hold. In the middle of the room was a table covered with clean cloth. Everything was metallic and a scent of some antiseptic liquid floated in the air.
The next room was filled with different kinds of coffins. Most of them were metallic and only a couple of them wooden. Who wanted to be buried in a metal coffin? Was it perhaps another way to try and live forever or be sure if someone was to dig in the cemetery they'd find something to prove that the name written on the stone once belonged to someone? All these coffins made him sad for they were all meant to be someone's last resting place and the vessel for the little matter that was left behind. He floated silently to the next room and then it all went black.
Thanks again for reviewing. It always lights up my mood when I hear someone likes this.
Marcus and Sons' White Lilies
Kurtis stepped out of the taxi and payed the driver who drove of as soon as all the doors where closed and he had gotten his money. Kurtis watched the taxi until he couldn't see it anymore. What was so horrible in this place that the driver couldn't take him to the address written on the piece of paper? The driver had given him brief instructions of where to go but he was still quite lost. He knew he was on the right street because the name on a placate indicating the street name told him so. What made him feel lost was the very fact there were no building numbers - not a one. he hoped it wasn't a long street and there was at least some sign indicating the funeral home. If this was so bad a place why did they have a funeral home there? Why did they have anything at all there?
Almost all of the buildings in the area seemed ramshackled and of some buildings there was no telling anymore what was their original color. Surprisingly some of the buildings had survived the turning of the wheel of time. It reminded him of immortality; while other buildings grew old and lost their paint some remained in the condition they had always been in. He doubted that anyone lived here anymore but some of the buildings looked like they had had their share of love. They were colorful gems in the ocean of grayness. Years of abandonment had caused their state or was it the simple fact of life that nothing lasts forever. His thoughts were once again filled with the Nephilim race. They weren't immortal, not in the real meaning of the word. Immortals couldn't be killed. He started walking hoping he'd find the funeral home soon.
He walked as fast as he could but still tried not to make any noise. It wouldn't do him good if someone was to overhear him and even if he wasn't a 'normal' human he could be surprised. There were lots of shadows on this street. Lots of places where one could easily hide and if it was almost dark like it was today a normal eye couldn't make out the hidden ones' outlines. Anyone could be hiding in the shadows and he wouldn't have a clue. He might 'feel' the hidden ones' presence like any human being. A feeling causing shivers traveling down the spine, a feeling that one wasn't completely alone. It revealed it's claws on the evenings like this hauling every traveler unlucky enough to its lair.
Kurtis' eyes stopped on a window covered with painted lilies. The building stood out from its grayish and ramshackled surrounding. Its walls were shining with paint colored light green and it looked like they had been painted yesterday. Among all this grayness someone still cared about the little house enough to make it shine. That was probably it. Even though the sign over the door had seen better days the name on it was still readable; Marcus and Sons' White Lilies. If he remember correctly white lilies symbolized life after death or in some cultures just death. The name itself didn't sound very much like an ordinary funeral home. White lilies made at least him think something totally else than death - peace of mind and serenity. The door didn't look very inviting; it was made of dark wood, probably rosewood and the doorcnocker on it was painted black. Either the walls were just painted and the door had never been changed or the paint was taken care of royally and the door was brand new. Perhaps the door just meant the dark spot in death that people were afraid of. Just the blind spot in the painless realm, the last gate living beings traveled through before gaining peace. There was a small tilted square shaped window with glass that couldn't be seen through. Perhaps it could be pierced another kind of way.
Once more he looked around still seeing no one before relaxing a bit. He took a step back and closed his eyes letting his mind venture away from his body. His farsee ability separated his mind from his body leaving the world of flesh and entering the weightless world. Like air he flew through the smoky glass and entered the funeral home. He floated awhile in the small hallway then entering the kitchen. No one was there and nothing seemed to be out of ordinary. He had seen hundreds of kitchens before and all of them had started to look the same. He exited the kitchen and flew to the living room which was nothing out of ordinary. Pictures of smiling faces on the walls showing something he himself had never had - a family. Of course he had had one but his mother was long gone and his father had probably cared more for a total stranger than his son. He had seen it in Konstantin's eyes - in his presence they were lifeless and dull but as soon as some of his friends was present the man was full of life and laughter. He exited the living room and went downstairs finding a small morgue which at least was something one couldn't find from every house hold. In the middle of the room was a table covered with clean cloth. Everything was metallic and a scent of some antiseptic liquid floated in the air.
The next room was filled with different kinds of coffins. Most of them were metallic and only a couple of them wooden. Who wanted to be buried in a metal coffin? Was it perhaps another way to try and live forever or be sure if someone was to dig in the cemetery they'd find something to prove that the name written on the stone once belonged to someone? All these coffins made him sad for they were all meant to be someone's last resting place and the vessel for the little matter that was left behind. He floated silently to the next room and then it all went black.