Rayakashi: Not Quite. I intend to focus on the past for a bit before slowly moving towards the future/current Time Line.
WolfGirl01: Its not like Luck comes with an age restriction (No matter how much Bermuda and Jager wish it did)
Chapter 6
He adores Bermuda; idolizing and revering the older child as though he was a God amongst mankind.
Honestly, Jager knows its not healthy- he knows the Bermuda is no Saint or even close to Godly despite what their society would claim- but in his eyes it doesn't matter.
He ignores the obvious faults- turns deaf when the screams echo into the night- even as they all but dance before his eyes focusing instead upon the one who not only saved his Life countless times before but granted him reason and purpose to exist within this unforgiven world.
He's tempted to commit murder.
Bermuda could feel his scowl growing as he watched the blonde accidently- If that was an honest to god accident he was a princess in a fluffy neon pink ball gown- knock her scolding hot soup onto Jager's lap- the porcelain bowl shattering against the hardwood floor as small hands try and fail to catch it mid fall- while the younger was attempting to finish setting the table for The Head Chief; Mable.
"Tsk," the blonde's nose crunches up as cold eyes glare within Jager's direction- who's now attempting to clean the mess off the floor while ignoring the state of his own clothes. Gods how many times has he told Jager not to pick up broken glass with his bare hands? - before her heel lashes out hitting the younger in the ribs causing the dark eyed thirteen year old's fork to break in his grip.
Snap! The fork- made of the finest silver- he was holding snapped into two pieces due to his grip but the harlot doesn't seem to notice as she raises her head so she's staring down her nose at the small dark haired child, "Useless Freak."
There's a slight flinch from the younger boy- something one wouldn't have noticed had they not been looking closely which makes that ugly feeling with Bermuda's soul to rear its head at full strength- as the eight year old forces his way back onto his feet, " Why do you keep such a clumsy servant around, Bermuda Dear? He can't even set a table without making a mess-"
"Jager," A sharp voice cuts her off mid word as the Dark Haired teen stands, "Come with me."
"But-" Inhuman eyes dart down towards the mess then back towards Bermuda himself though the thirteen year old ignores the gesture in favor of snapping out with a firm 'Listen and Obey Now' tone, "Now."
After a moment of unnerving silence the emerald eyed child slowly stood and made his way over towards the older one- cautious to stay just out of the Harlot's reach as small delicate hands fiddle with the filthy rag the other had been attempting to clean with- only to have it snatched out of his hands and thrown into the blonde's face.
"Its your mess." Bermuda speaks bluntly as soulless eyes glared into the blonde as though hoping his glare alone could kill, "Clean it up yourself. "
The younger of the two cannot help but blink in confusion- ignoring the girl's sputtering- as his Lord grabs his wrist and drags him out of the dining hall and towards their room where the door is slammed shut and bolted shut in a matter of seconds before soulless eyes focus on him with a startling intensity, "Strip."
Despite his nervousness- he had never Bermuda angry before and even if its not directed at him experience had taught the emerald eyed child that could quickly change with the right circumstances- Jager finds his hands are steady as he sets to work while Bermuda himself storms to their closest; tearing into it as he searches for something in the back.
"I'm going to kill her."
Bermuda snarls as he carefully applies the burn ointment onto the bruised Lobster Red skin while already plotting assorted ways to keep the unnatural pale child outside long enough to gain a proper tan so to hide those ugly burns staining the skin.
"Bermuda," Jager speaks softly as Inhuman eyes glance anywhere but directly into the other's rage filled eyes, "It was probably an accident."
Despite permitting the words to slip past his lips, its obvious Jager doesn't believe them- as his eyes still avoid the soulless void that was his Lord's own- and to be honest; neither does Bermuda. After all, The harlot- that had intruded upon his home as though she belonged their and couldn't or outright wouldn't take a subtle clue to leave- had gone out of her way all week to make her hatred for Jager quite clear to the point even the servants had taken notice.
Then there was the 'accidents' the began to befall upon the younger child the moment that harlot had settled into his home.
Tainted food, would-be Muggers and Murderers, The Crystal Chandelier in the Greet Hall had hung for centuries- the ropes being replaced every time they began to fray- almost crushing the child as he walked beneath it on his way to collect Bermuda's traveling cloak-It was only a near miss due to Susan who took her job of watching the Young Master's favorite quite serious- scorpions and snakes in the cupboard Jager liked to hide inside when needing time alone, an almost 'accident' while taking a stroll with Bermuda himself...
Gods just this past week alone Bermuda felt as through he had fended off an army determined to kill the younger child yet when he had informed his Father- hoping the man would actually do something about the issue- Lord Veckenschtein had insisted it sounded a lot like 'Unsavory Luck' and there was nothing he could do- While Bermuda would confess, Jager had Ungodly Luck- most likely stolen from the Devil himself- but there was no way in Hell this was just unsavory Luck as Bermuda's instincts screamed at him of foul play and a perpetrator residing within his very home- which all but translated into the man's lack of care as Jager was neither His Son nor of First Class Standing. To him, Jager was expandable, another faceless body in a group of slave and servants expected to give up everything they had for those that were 'better' than them.
If Bermuda was honest, he hated it- Hated how this whole society could overlook Laws, restrictions and Human Rights just to satisfy their need for Superiority- as Jager was a lot of things but 'expandable' was not on that List. Yet there was nothing he could do about any of it; not yet, but what he could do was see to it there were no more 'accidents'. That there would never be another chance for an 'accident'.
A servant- a slave, a filthy lowlife who might as well have crawled out of a muddy ditch compared to herself- and Her Bermuda sides with it over her? Worst, he had thrown its filthy rag in her face! It's corruption must had spread further then she originally believed.
Unfortunately, ridding this world of the anomaly was harder than she had first believed as no matter what she attempted something always got in the way:
She attempted to poison it only to find out Her Bermuda had taken it out to a Town Lunch moments before. Leaving her with piles of wasted food she couldn't shove down the Anomaly's throat without a proper reason.
She hired a thugs- lowlifes and murderers the lot of them- to 'deal with' the issue' only to find her hired help had been- in a rather twisted sense of irony- mugged and murdered in a back alleyway not even two streets from where she planned for the 'conversation' was meant to happen.
She tried to drop a Chandelier on him only for a redhead harlot to bodily tackle him out of the way causing it to miss her intended target and the intruder by a hair's width; leaving both with only scrapes and little cuts from the glass shards as they bounced on the marble flooring before settling.
She wanted to have him arrested but the Constable laughed in her face!
He didn't believe her- though it shouldn't matter if he believed her or not, she was a First Class and the Accused a Third; it should have been an open shut execution- when she claimed the filth had assaulted her and when she pushed matters he had bluntly pointed out that the anomaly had been helping his wife with his three children at the time she claimed he 'assaulted' her.
She attempted to convince Her Bermuda to get rid of him- after all, no one accepted an incompetent servant- only for him to side with it over her before throwing its filthy rag in her face and order her- HER!- to clean as though she was the slave and not the Freak he all but dragged into his bedroom. And now he was avoiding her while constantly keeping that abomination at his side.
Lyse wants to scream- she wants to shout and yell for the world to hear as its not fair. Bermuda was supposed to be Her's, Lady Veckenschtein was supposed to be Her's that Freak was not supposed to exist!- yet it did and everything she ever dreamed of- always knew was her's and her's alone- was slipping through her fingers.
Yet she couldn't let it go; She refused. This was Her future- not that Freak of Nature's- this was what would grant her hearts every desire. This was Her 'Happily Ever After' and she would have it; one way or another.
The plan was simple- so simple a toddler could understand it and couldn't possibly mess it up- She needed a child, but not just any child:
She needed Bermuda's child.
If she had his child growing within her womb, he would have no other choice but to marry her as to preserve both His and His Family's Honor. Though acquiring the child would be the difficult part since, as things stood at the moment; Bermuda refused to so much as enter the same room as her- always leaving the moment she entered the same room as him while dragging the Anomaly alongside him- let alone accompany her to her bed.
Which meant she was going to have to find her way into his.
So she waited until the dead of night- where the harvest moon was at its highest peak- before setting her plan into action. Finding Her Bermuda's room was easy- it was impossible for her not to locate it seeing how many times she had watched her future self grace it and her husband with her presence- and by all rights everything should have been smooth sailing from there only...
If asked Lyse couldn't say what had gone wrong; she had fount her way into Her Bermuda's room- into his bed- without waking the other and had just placed a chaise kiss to his lips when- out of nowhere- a hand was suddenly tightly around her throat and she was bodily thrown across the room. It took her a moment to blink away her blurry vision and the darkness of the room only to realize the hand that had thrown her like a rag doll belonged to Her Bermuda- who's eyes were a strange swirl of purple and orange instead of their usual Soulless Black- as he stormed towards her down form with bared teeth.
Confusion filled her being as she slowly blinked, if that vengeful demon looking ready to tear her limb from limb was Her Bermuda; who was in the bed? Who had she kissed?
If he was honest, Jager had no idea what had gotten into Bermuda. The elder had been perfectly fine when they had climbed into bed the night before but now...
"Again!"
"Bermuda, I have no more toothpaste."
"Then use the Mouth Wash."
"I don't have any of that left either."
"Then use mine!"
For some reason the other seemed to have become rather obsessed with Jager washing his mouth out and scrubbing his lips to the point the emerald eyed child swore the flesh would be stripped from them by pure force alone...
If they didn't catch on fire first that is.
The emerald eyed child was cut from his thoughts as the soulless eyed teen all but shoved his own toothbrush down the younger's throat due to the elder's impatience causing the younger to start choking.
In Bermuda's opinion Murder was easy- he had a natural talent for the sin that most grown men lacked- it was hiding the body that was difficult.
Everything had to be planned down to the smallest detail: How to get rid of the body, how to transport it without catching anyone's notice, the necessary clean up that followed the strugglers and fighters who seemed incapable of understanding blood stained and was a pain to clean up, proper disposal of any materials used in the clean up and the perfectly detailed story that aligned nothing but key facts and witnesses which- if investigated- would be proven to be the Truth.
Yes, compared to the Aftermath; Murder was easy but at least this time he had some aid.
"Perfect," The soulless eyed teen offered the eight year old Jager a warm smile as the other finished spreading a tarp across the basement floor, "Now the tarp is so the blood won't stain everywhere. It'll make clean up easier once we're finished disassembling the corpse."
Honesty, Bermuda knows he shouldn't be allowing Jager to be involved on his 'Hobby' but Bermuda knew he couldn't always be there to hide the bodies for the younger so it was better to teach the other child how to do so himself while he was young and his mind constantly absorbing information.
"Now the body type of the corpse will decided the blade you will use when dismembering it. Bodies like Ms. Harlot here have little to not muscle growth as they have other people who do everything for them; therefore a lighter butcher knife from any kitchen should do the trick," Bermuda spoke clearly as he picked up a knife from the table where he had dozen laid out and spin it between his fingers so inhuman eyes could see it from all angles,"but its the bones that you have to watch out for. Most usually just hack at them upon but I fount it you treat the corpse as one does a chicken its easier. In other words; First you need to disconnect the shoulder balls from their sockets, if you can manage it thought; break the joints as well. Like so-"
A loud crack filled the silent room followed by a muffled scream causing a frown to mar itself onto Bermuda's face as Soulless eyes glared down at the squirming 'corpse', "Do you mind, Ms. Lyse; I'm trying to impart with wisdom here."
"Now," The Veckenschtein Heir chose to ignore the muffled noises as he glanced towards Jager who- despite his eyes darting towards the basement door- never moved, "Don't worry, the room's soundproof. " After all, his Father wouldn't want anyone coming downstairs during his rituals due to the sacrifice's screams. "As you can see, the limb hangs limply connected only to the shoulder by skin, muscles, tendons and possibly a few veins as well. We're going to sever them."
The older child spoke bluntly as he lifted his knife for the other to examine, "Which is why you always want a sharp blade with a bit of weight to it. Flimsy, lightweights won't get you far in this and will make a bigger mess then necessary."
The a glint of light reflected upon the blade as Bermuda brings it down without a moments hesitation.
He doesn't think he'll ever be able to eat ribs again, Jager decides later that day as he watches Detective Schmidt- a young man with a head of brown hair hired by Lord Bechte to locate his missing daughter- licked the barbeque sauce from his fingers before granting Bermuda a satisfied smile," That was rather delicious Son, I don't suppose you care to share your recipe?"
The older child just offer a mystic smile with satisfaction clear in his eyes, "Sorry. Family Secret."
Jager just keeps His Silence as he allows Bermuda to pull him to his feet.
Chapter 7
Jager was like the Sun on a Cloudy day.
Full of warmth and comfort that made even the harshest of Souls desire to relax within the safety of his presence to the point everyone knew he was there but none ever saw him as a threat.
In Bermuda's opinion, they were foolishly blind.
For while he would confess Jager was like the sun, most people tended to forget that the same warmth that kept them safe and comfortable could just as easily scorch them into ashes should they accidently drift too close to the source.
Impossible, Bermuda swiftly learned, didn't exist when Jager was involved within the equation.
"Please," Bermuda spoke- resisting the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall as reality once more pulled itself out from beneath his feet- as slender fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tell me that is not a Cerberus."
"It is not a Cerberus," Jager repeated in a monotone- the younger's grip tightening slightly on the three headed puppy he was clutching firmly to his chest -while three separate heads- residing upon the same body- gnawed upon the arm wrapped securely around their waist.
"Oh, then what would you call it?"
"A puppy," Jager spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world while granting the other a concerned look.
"It has three heads," The soulless eye teen deadpanned as his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. Surely he wasn't the only person who noticed that...Right?
"Fine," the emerald eyed child huffed with a sullen- yet determined in a way Bermuda could place anywhere- gleam to his unnatural eyes, "Its a mutated puppy."
"You're not keeping it."
Oh yes, he knows that look in Jager's inhuman eyes. It was the same pleading look the younger had granted him while begging to keep the dragons- living, breathing and so obviously not a myth or Legend- they had stumbled across while on a hike together.
"But-"
"No."
"I-"
"Have no responsibility towards this creature."
"We can't just leave Them in the rain."
"Sure we can," Bermuda spoke bluntly granting the younger a stern look, "Put it down and I'll show you how."
There was a nice cliff just a few feet away from them and it wouldn't be all that hard to punt the 'Hound of Hades' back to Hades himself once the younger child stopped clinging to it like a lifeline. As though the younger could read his mind, Jager's grip tightened as wide inhuman eyes stared at him- silently judging actions he had yet to even commit- with unrelenting horror, "You can't kick a puppy Bermuda! Especially one left out in the rain!"
And to think, The younger was always accusing him of being a mind reader.
Silence befell the two as soulless eyes stared blankly upon the child who -not even a month ago- watched his butcher a twelve year old alive and then feed her remains to the Lead Detective involved in her case without so much as saying a word.
"Really?" Disbelief colored the elder's tone as he stared the younger down- Of all the things for Jager to develop a conscious over it wouldn't be Human Life; oh no, that would be far too simple wouldn't it?; instead it had to be Mythical Creatures that didn't seem to realize they were only supposed to exist oupside of Legends and Child Stories- only for confused inhuman eyes to stare back at him, "What?"
Was there something on his face?
"Shrink."
"Lord Bermuda?"
Jager granted the older child a confused glance causing soulless black eyes to narrow.
"Jager, you're supposed to stay shorter than me not suddenly sprout upwards like a beanstalk."
Ah, a sense of amused understanding filled the taller of the two as the ten year old resisted the urge to chuckle at his pouting Lord, " My apologizes Lord Bermuda, but I'm afraid it doesn't work that way."
"Then make it work."
"I cannot," Jager admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulders, "Though maybe had you actually drunk your milk instead of swapping your full glass with my empty one, you would have grown as well."
Much to Bermuda's delight he eventually reaches a height of five foot nine. Jager on the other hand doesn't stop growing until he's seven foot three.
After a week of solid thought-no matter what Jager would claim he was not sulking- Bermuda decides to be the bigger man and blames magic instead of genetics. After all, there's no way in Heaven, Hell or Earth Jager could naturally be taller than him.
"I don't want it. "
He's being childish, Jager knows that.
He's ten now; therefore he's supposed to act mature as the inhuman eyed child is already a quarter way into his grave- lives are short in this time, the oldest anyone seems to live to be is thirty- but he doesn't care. He does not want that 'Gift' anywhere near his home let alone Bermuda.
"Jager," his Lord gives a soft sigh at the stubborn reminder no matter how 'socially acceptable' the younger shaped up to be- at least outside the walls of Veckenschtein Manor- Jager was still a child and like all children didn't take well to new arrivals within their household.
"My Lord, please send it back. We don't need it, I can handle anything that should arise here by myself."
"Him, Jager not it." It was rude to call someone an 'it' and he refused to permit Jager to fall to such a degree the younger child would become another blank face within the crowd of imbeciles that crafted their society, " His name is Jack and I'm keeping him."
The taller of the two looks as though he's swallowed a bitter lemon at the soulless eye teen's 'I will not hear another word on this matter so do as I say' tone causing the younger to lower his head slightly- his shoulder length hair to tumble into his face as to curtain his resentful eyes- in a sense of respectful acceptance, "Yes Lord Bermuda. "
If Bermuda hears the profound sense of bitterness clinging to the younger's voice he's says nothing concerning the matter. After all, while he's spent years installing a sense of confidence and self worth within the younger child Jager is still a Third Class and therefore has no voice- no opinion. Don't get him wrong Bermuda valued Jager's opinion and would always take it in consideration. It just didn't matter in the end if his own opinion went against it- to be weighted within the final decision of the matter.
The redhead staying half a step behind Bermuda can't help but shift uneasily as inhuman emerald eyes all but glare into his soul- for a moment the rouge swears those unnatural eyes flash a shade of purple with swirls of gold- when the dark haired teenager he followed orders the taller to show him to a bedroom.
"Yes Lord Bermuda." The taller of the two keep his head low as his eyes drift from his rouge and onto Bermuda's back- mentally begging the other to have another rapid change of mind the younger knows won't come- as the elder helds for the door.
" And Jager," the soulless eyed teen stops in the doorway as though just recalling something, "I expect this one to actually make it to his room alive and to stay within such condition."
Had he not known better, Jack would have sworn his fellow First Class had just asked this 'Jaeger' to peel off his own face with a rusty nail considering the tallers's twisted expression.
"I don't like him."
"You didn't like my Father either Jaeger. "
"And for good reason," the younger of the two couldn't help but huff as Bermuda snuggled into his side, "Your Father was insane."
The man was as mad as a Hatter when it came to both magic and possessing something called 'SoulFire'.
To be honest Jager didn't know that much about the later- and only a pinch more about the former- just that a person with SoulFire would die if it's removed, it came in seven different shades and each shade did something unique.
Oh, and there's some sort of 'Dark Arts' Ritual that permits the caster to rip the SoulFire out of others and absorb it that even those without magic can preform.
What?
At least he understood some of Lord Veckenschtein's monologue- while he's on the subject, he needed to make a mental reminder never to monologue like some B Class villain as it tends to screw you and your 'diabolical' plans over- while attempting to find a way out of the situation alive.
"I dealt with That issue," Bermuda spoke softly without a hint or regret in his voice, "I'll do the same here if it comes down to it."
His Father really should have known better than to place him in a situation where he had to chose- the man had always seemed a bit blind to what his Heir hide beneath his mask but Bermuda had never believed he was that blind- let alone place the ritual dagger within his hands.
His Fathervcreally knew him, otherwise the man wouldn't have looked at him with those wide shocked eyes when Bermuda sunk the blade hilt deep into the elder's chest cavity.
If Jager is honest he doesn't like long hair- it's annoyingly frustrating to deal with and care for compared to short hair- but he keeps it shoulder length to please Bermuda- 'It's a sign of Social Status. Long hair means a person is important while short means they're expandable' -though it doesn't stop him from trying to tear it out at the roots when frustrated.
Smack!
Jager quickly pulled back his hands- ignoring the burn and slight discoloration of his fingers- as soulless eyes granted his a disapproving look and a scowl twisted onto Bermuda's face, "I told you to stop pulling at your hair."
"My apologizes, " the younger child mumbled softly as the elder teen sighed softly while gentle hands attempted to smooth out the birds nest he had created.
"Don't apologize unless you mean it Jager."
"I do-"
"No," the soulless eyed teen cuts off the younger with a firm look, "If you meant it, you wouldn't keep doing it." Sometimes Bermuda wonders if this is what it's like to raise a child- always having to watch and correct them at every slip up before explaining things they do not yet understand- instead of a companion, "If you apologize yet keep committing the same act you apologized for it makes your apology Hollow, Jager. No one wants a hollow apology."
There's a thoughtful gleam within the younger's inhuman eyes as he seems to think over Bermuda's word before giving a firm nod, "I understand. It will not happen again."
"I hope so," Bermuda mumbles softly as he finished smoothing the mess Jager had made of himself-Otherwise he was going to have to start breaking finger until that bad habit was ruthlessly crushed under-heel - before taking a step back and raising a brow, "Why are you in such a frustrated mood this earlier anyways?"
Usually Jager wasn't this frustrated until after Bermuda dealt with the Council's vain attempts at convincing him to accept a Broodmare -of their choice as Bermuda refused to choose one- for a Life Partner so to pass on his Bloodline- What part of 'I'm not interested' was so difficult to understand?- while constantly referring to the emerald eyed child as his 'Inamorato'.
"Jack," the name slips past Jagers teeth like a hiss of the foulest of words as the taller fingers twitch slightly at his sides- as though barely resisting the urge to strangle someone; most likely with blood red hair- then and there.
"Oh? And what did Jack do this time?"
Honestly Jager would find fault with how the rouge breathed if he could.
Emerald eyes narrowed though the younger could read his mind- it wouldn't surprise Bermuda if the younger actually could- before the taller of the two let out annoyed huff, "Go look for yourself."
It wasn't something he could explain with words anyway.
For a moment all Bermuda can do is stare-soulless eyes seeing but not quite believing- blankly at the Warzone that was once his kitchen before him.
"Is that-"
He begins to ask only to but cut off midword by Jager, "Yes."
"How-"
"He touched it."
Slowly the older turns his head towards the emerald eyed child next to him, "Touched it?"
"Yes."
"And nothing else?"
"Nothing else."
As one both children turn their heads back to the scene before them, listening to the rouge curse up a colorful storm while all the while attempting to keep the Skeletal Goul like creature he had accidentally awoken in the basement- Why did they even have one of these things down there?!- from sinking it's dagger like teeth into him.
"Should we do something?"
After all, even if the creature hadn't been alive when they last saw it, it was their's or rather the remains of His Father after the man's blood hit the ritual circle.
"My Lord," Jager speaks solemnly as he meets the others eyes head on, "Not even God himself could convince me to get involved in whatever that madness is."
Jack woke it and therefore- as far as Jager was concerned- it was his problem. Just like the bloody chimera the rouge had locked in the storage closet.
