"Stanton was my first love". She spoke to him in a distant, faraway voice, her eyes empty and emotionless. "He was my only love". They immediately clouded with fiery emotion, and he was sure that she would cry, but despite his assumption, she only smiled up at him from the wooden cot in her ran down apartment.
"Potato chips?" She offered, holding up a bag. When he declined them, she tossed the bag across the room. "He left me… for a daughter. A Goddess of the Moon", she hissed the words so that they were twisted and bent to be interpreted as filth or lower.
"And I take it that you weren't comfortable with his decision". He almost regretted his asking from the pang of loss and sorrow that clouded over the girl's teary eyes. He cursed to himself. How many times had he endured this? How many times was he made to stare into the hopeless depths of a woman's eyes? A woman tarnished by the empty promises of the dark prince.
"No, I love him still as I have for the past lonely years".
"Then why are you so eager to turn him over to me?"
A familiar glint caught the girl's eyes and he immediately caught her purpose. It was similar to his.
Do you really, Cassandra? He asked her with his mind. Do you really mean to harm your true love?
She nodded, a single tear falling from her cheek.
He smirked and turned away. Poor girl. He hated to use her. It was obvious that she was too weak to follow the plan through completely. Somewhere in-between, she would stop and plead with him to abandon his life long purpose. But it would be too late. By then, her prince would be dead if not worse. He turned to smile into the girl's mirthless eyes. "Then shall we begin?"
"Darien Weiss"
He sat, staring into space for a few seconds before recognizing the pseudonym. He then raised his hand and flailed it in the air momentarily before laying back down upon the desk.
"Mr. Weiss", his homeroom teacher spoke. "I believe the correct expression is 'here'".
"Well, everyone is entitled to their opinion, Ms. Glass", he responded, earning him a few chuckles from the back of the class.
"Just what I need", she wrinkled her nose and slipped the attendance sheet into a desk drawer. "Another wise guy".
Darien only shrugged. He wasn't very happy about the arrangement either, but Cassandra had assured him that it was the only way that he could fit in and be closer to Stanton for that matter. Turning to his side, he caught the stare of the same blonde from the night of the fire. His eyes widened when he realized that they had never finished their conversation.
"Is there a problem?" She asked, her eyes now on what seemed to be mathematics.
"Well, you are doing Algebra in English class".
She cocked an eyebrow at his lame attempt at a conversation.
"And I'm disappointed that you don't remember me".
She stared at him for a few seconds before recognition sprung across her features. "Oh, the guy from the fire, right?"
"Darien", he corrected her.
"I'm Vanessa. Nice to meet you. Why did you leave so soon?"
"I had business elsewhere". He decided to get to the point. "You never answered my question".
Her eyebrows furrowed. "About Stanton? You would have to ask Serena". He noticed that her expression warped into one of disgust at the mention of Stanton. Darien raised an eyebrow. How many girls had he screwed over in this town?
"Serena?" He asked. "You mean the redhead?"
She nodded. "Serena Killingsworth. Wherever you find her, he's bound to be lingering around somewhere". She turned to eye him suspiciously. "Why are you interested?"
He paused and then responded with what was anything but a lie. "He hurt someone very dear to me".
She took his hands in hers, sorrow now flooding her eyes. "I'm sorry".
"I don't want your sympathy", he muttered bitterly. "But thank you for your time". With that, the bell rang signifying that the fifteen minutes of division were up. Leaving the blonde awestruck, he grabbed his books and walked casually out of the room.
"Serena", he called to the redhead across the grassy La Brea High campus. When he reached her, he was met with an icy, cold glare.
"I know what you are", she spoke loathingly.
"And how would you know this?"
"I'm a daughter. A goddess of the moon"
"I figured that", he nodded. "Then you somehow slipped into my mind that night. What else did you see?"
"Just enough to tell what you are. What do you want from Stanton?"
He turned away from her so that she couldn't see the wild anger in his eyes. "Only revenge for a lifetime of pain and deceit".
Her eyes grew sympathetic. "I'm sorry for whatever he-"
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Serena", he turned to glare at her. "You'll learn that soon enough. He doesn't love you, you know. He isn't capable"
"That's not true"
"Serena, hasn't he hurt everyone he's ever loved?"
"But I'm… I'm-"
"Different?" He laughed. So many misled souls. Situations such as hers only deepened his hatred for the man. "That's what she thought".
"Who is she?"
He started to respond when his eyes caught another. He stared, petrified in shock and anger as Stanton approached them. It had been over a century since their last encounter, yet the memory of his face was still so clear that Darien had immediately recognized him.
"Serena"
Darien shuddered as he watched him wrap his arms around the girl's waist.
"What's the ma-" Stanton trailed off as he stared into the boy's eyes, the color identical to his own.
"Stanton?" Serena asked, looking up at him in concern.
"Leave us"
"Stanton"
"Serena", he challenged her. She finally shrugged and walked away towards another girl. He watched as she grew more and more distant, before turning back to Darien. "It's been a while".
Darien only chuckled and brushed a few blonde strands from his eyes. This would be interesting.
"I thought you were-"
"Dead?" Darien finished for him, unable to keep the wild and dangerous spark from his eyes. "Yes, it did seem that way, didn't it? After you beat me and left me to die".
Stanton smirked in amusement at his eagerness. "You were a leader of the rebellion. What did you expect?"
"I was also your son, or have you forgotten?"
"I didn't know", Stanton put a hand to his forehead. "I really didn't know". He lowered his hand and eyed him in concern. "Is that why you've come? To avenge a false death?"
Darien laughed, a mirthless laugh, void of happiness or joy. "I've come to avenge my mother. I've come to avenge my cursed life".
"I'm sorry", Stanton sighed. "I didn't mean to-"
"To what? To take advantage of her innocence? To give her a child that she didn't want? Do you know how hard it is to walk the streets day after day with the knowledge that I was the creation of your brutality and twisted amusement?"
Stanton nodded, obviously defeated. "Is there nothing I can do to make it up to you?"
"Was there ever?" He shook his head. "No, nothing but the sight of your cursed blood flowing from your rotting corpse".
"Well then", started Stanton, gravely. "You leave me no choice".