A/N Hello again~ I'm back with chapter 8 of Crimson Night and hope you enjoy~
Chapter 8
"What do you mean my training starts now? Training for what?" I yell out to the dark void around me—hoping the voice will answer.
Your training on becoming the Heavenly Exorcist…"Why am I the Heavenly Exorcist?" I ask and turn to attempt to find the voice—looking left and right.
Because your Great, Great, Great Grandfather was an exorcist and was also the Heavenly Exorcist… Though he died while sealing away Ivan, Arthur's 'deceased' uncle, who was granted life by signing his soul to the devil. His mission now is to release Satin to complete the covenant. Your Grandfather had cast one last spell before he had died… He had put his soul in dormant inside his wife's pregnant womb. Then generation after generation his legacy would be passed on to the next, waiting to be released to when you where born… the reincarnate of the original Heavenly Exorcist.
"So who are you?" I ask as all this information fills my brain.
Oh, Matthew, I think if you think hard enough you'll figure out who I am.
I think long and hard till it comes to me, "Are you… My Great Great Great Grandfather… The original Heavenly Exorcist?"
Haha I always knew you where a smart boy… Turn around…
I turn around and gasp. A man—around his thirties—is standing there… and he looks like me, but older and his hair is in a long braid that goes down to his lower back.
"Grandfather?" I ask as I slowly walk up to him, uncertain if he's an enemy or not.
"Yes? Come closer. I'm not your enemy," he says as he laughs.
'So he can read minds,' I think to myself, 'Like Kiku.'
"Yes, I can read minds, but you'll learn that soon enough," my Grandfather chuckles, "First we start with the basics like this." A pot on a pedestal emerges from the darkness slowly. I look at my grandfather in confusion till he raises his left arm towards the pot. His arm glows an emerald green and his violet eyes transform the same green as well. He nudges his head to the side—indicating me to look at the pot. I turn my head to the pot, and to my surprise, it's floating!
"You will be learning levitation and reconstructing first. It will help you with other skills as we move on," my Grandfather says as he moves the pot and drops it—making it shatter into millions of tiny pieces. "Now clean this up."
"W-wha? Won't I get cut cause I don't see a broom or dustpan around here," I say looking at my Grandfather confused.
"Use what I gave you, Matthew," my Grandfather says glaring—eyes green. "Use the pentagram on your left hand, imagine the reconstruction of that pot. Put your very being into the pieces of that pot like they where the pieces of your life, waiting to be put back together."
"O-okay…" I say shakily and turn my head slowly toward the pieces of the glass pot. I raise my left arm and close my eyes.
"Good, now think of your life and then flow all of your feelings into your left hand."
I begin to think of my mother and her soft face. I remember her soft tears as they fell onto me when I was six… She had been diagnosed with heart cancer, but I knew her heart was strong and loving… till papa and I got the call she was dieing, that there was nothing they could do. We went to see her die at the hospital that I hate so for letting my mother die. She slightly stroked my cheek, tears falling. I grabbed her hand and shed my own tears and squeezed her hand till she smiled and closed her eyes… never opening them again. I cried out loudly and shook her hand—denying she was dead. It was a hard three years of denial till I finally let go. The next to go was my brother. He went missing in the woods and after four years of searching was found dead by strangling after being raped. Mohammed—the bastard who raped my brother and killed him—was found and sent to the electric chair. Finally my father died from a rare liver disease, leaving me to fend for myself at the age of sixteen, but received all of his retirement money. I had gotten a job as a bartender—because that's all I could get because of schoolwork. I was almost raped because of this sick asshole thought I was a girl and was on the FBI's most wanted list. I reported him and got his ass into jail for life. Luckily he had a reward over his head and I received a great deal of money that I started living on—but also kept working for more money to pay off my school loan.
Anger and sorrow toils in my stomach and I begin to hiccup in sadness. Hot tears roll slowly down my cheek.
Then I got a job at the Blood Clinic in Vancouver and bought my first apartment. My life was great compared to the beginning. Then I was transferred to London and I meet Arthur. I became the Heavenly Exorcist. I learned that vampires have wings and saliva that heals wounds faster. I learn that love does exist and not only death. I was—and am—being hunted by the savages called Night Children. I've experienced what it feels like to be food. I've met my Great Great Great Grandfather and am learning the ways of the exorcist.
More tears flow as I open my eyes as they glow the shocking violet once more. The pentagram on my hand glows too and the lettering winding up my arm as well.
"Good. Now releasing all these feelings being bottled up and channel them into the pot, like your pulling your life together."
I exhale deeply and lazily stare at the pot with the last bit of tears in my eyes blurring my vision. Suddenly the pot is surrounded in a fuzzy purple glow. The pieces begin to float up and move themselves back together. I let my mind blank as the pot regenerates—magically gluing itself together. Soon the glass pot is in its original form.
"Excellent. Now imagine that there is no gravity and surround the pot with your energy you just conjured up—your sorrow and anger."
I look at the pot and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and open my eyes once more and feel the weight on my shoulders loosen—as if there is no gravity. I sound out all other noises and I feel as if I have gone deaf. I quickly see a bright purple haze surround the flawless glass pot and I move my arm up, bringing the pot with it. I let my body go numb and my mind blank and the last tear flows down my cheek. I lift the jar up higher and higher till it's a good thirty feet off the ground looking at it in awe.
Then an image of Ivan's cold eyes flashes in my head and hatred boils inside of me. I quickly snap my arm to the left and loose concentration—making the pot shoot across the sky and hearing a soft crunch in the distance.
"What was that?" my Grandfather asks and brings the pot back over to where we are and reconstructs it—placing it neatly back on the pedestal.
"I saw Ivan's cold violet eyes in my head and I felt anger fill me to the core… so I lost control from my own anger," I whisper and plop onto the ground, cradling my head in my hands.
"That's ok, it's to be expected," Grandfather says and crouches next to me—stroking my hair.
"Really?" I ask shakily and look at my Grandfather.
"Yes, because I know now you know who the enemy is and you won't hesitate to kill him."
"I-I'm going to have to kill him?"
"Yes, that is what you must do in order for them not to resurrect Satin and destroy the world," Grandfather says quietly.
"O-ok… but what if I can't…"
"Everyone close to you will help… I know they will."
…
It's been a whole day since the night I've fed off of Matthew. Three times a day I have to feed him, and now is time number four. So far I've been successful on getting it down his throat.
"Good evening, Matthew," I whisper to the sleeping Matthew as I walk to the side of the canapé bed on which he lays. Though I know I will get no response, I talk to the unconscious Matthew anyways, hoping he'll wake up and respond. I get up and sit beside him on the mattress. I place the beef stew Francis had made tonight next to the sleeping angel.
"Tonight you're having an exquisite beef stew made from only the finest for you, love," I whisper to Matthew smiling. I take a spoonful of the beef stew into my mouth and begin to chew. The lustrous flavor makes me want to swallow, but I fight that feeling by thinking that Matthew needs this more than me. Gilbert hunted the cow and skinned it—taking the hide for himself by making it a hood cape—Ludwig supplies the vegetables from his garden that he tends to and Francis cooked it all together with spices Kiku finds and steals.
Once the beef stew is mush in my mouth, I open Matthew's mouth slowly. After I've opened it I place my mouth to his and let the mush slide into his mouth. The mush is all out of my mouth, so I retract and rub Matthew's throat, helping him swallow.
His eyes squint together, but they soon relax. I coo to Matthew, "There, there," and softly stoke his beautiful cheek. If there were such things as angels—and there are, I've met a few—Matthew would be classified as an angel.
I chew more of the stew and feed it to Matthew. Every so often I would swap it with water and let him drink. When there is no more stew left I put the bowl and spoon on the nightstand that sits next to the bed. I crawl onto the bed and lay next to my sleeping angel. I sigh lightly and curl up around Matthew—covering him and I in the silky sheets that lie on the bed. I wrap my arms and right leg around him protectively and bury my face into the crook of his soft, sweet-smelling neck—breathing slowly. I close my eyes and nuzzle my face into his neck and smile.
Suddenly Matthew turns towards me and wraps his arm around me lazily, muttering a few things I couldn't make out. He nuzzles his face into my chest as I stare blankly at him. 'So really he is sleeping… and not in a coma,' I think happily to myself. I tilt his chin up to face me—even though he's asleep—and I plant a long kiss onto his soft lips. I pull away slowly and wrap my arms around him once more and close my eyes.
'I love him, I truly do, but what if he rejects me because I'm a vampire, or I nearly killed him twice, or because of his destiny… what if he doesn't return the feelings…' I think sorrowfully to myself. 'What if Alfred is right… I'm not good for him… and I only bring danger to him.'
The horrible memory comes to me that happened only hours before.
"I think I love Matthew."
"Your not good enough for him! You almost killed him and you're a monster!" Alfred screams at me for what just said. "You can't even protect yourself let alone him! You are no good for my master-"
"Who are you to judge if I'm good enough for him?" I scream at Alfred and slap him across the face. He staggers back and gives me a dark glare with his cerulean eyes.
"The one time you screw up with him is the one time I'll rip out your guts and feed it to the wolves," he says darkly and walks away, "because he's mine and I will die before he belongs to you."
"I can arrange that," I snarl before Ludwig summons me to help him collect the vegetables.
For now… I'll just lay with him here, hoping that when I ask him to be mine after all this shit passes and Ivan is dead and whatnot…
His answer will be… yes.
…
A/N Awwww~ I feel rivalry love commencing eue. Probably the only Twilight reference in this whole series will be a werewolf and a vampire fighting over Matthew~ Hope you enjoy and READ ON!~
Poll for Arthur's power has now been posted and is on my profile. Pleas vote and review ^-^.
