Prologue: 1990, What do You Mean, You Have a Son?

There's a house in Dublin that most believe to be haunted. This is not true, of course, unless one considers the residents themselves to be haunting–which was always up for debate.

Said residents were stretched out on a large four-poster bed. A bed of this size was required for one of the residents, as he was almost inhumanly tall–a fact which was juxtaposed by his rather short companion.

"Don't you think you have enough blankets?" Dio asked with a judgementally raised brow.

Rainy scoffed, layering the sixth blanket on top of themselves, "Those are big words for the bitch who keeps touching my legs with his cold feet."

"What are you going to do about it? Cut them off?", the blond challenged. The irony of the statement would have been lost on most.

"Maybe I would if I didn't know you'd just grow them back."

They tucked themselves underneath their blankets before the two descended into a companionable silence in which only the occasional sound of pages being turned was heard.

"What'cha reading?" Rainy eventually asked.

Dio turned his book so she could see the cover. It was a faded blue colour with no text.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me yourself."

Rainy glared up at him and sniffed haughtily, "I'm too comfy here," she poked his arm, "So?"

He sighed and removed his finger's from the book's spine. Frankenstein; OR; THE MODERN PROMETHEUS. , the faded letters read.

Rainy hummed, "I wonder how he's doing."

Dio hummed in clear disinterest, "Who?"

"My son."

Dio paused. " You have a son? Since when?"

Rainy shrugged, "A century or so, I dunno. His birthday is May 12."

"But you don't remember the year?"

"Nope."

The blond sighed in disbelief. Rainy's eyes narrowed.

"Are you trying to imply I'm lying?"

"Indeed. And not very well."

"Well, you have, like, at least four demon spawns running around somewhere. Why can't I have one?"

Dio lifted three fingers, "You don't like children," he lowered one, "You've made it very clear that you'd rather die than be pregnant," he lowered another, "No one would be irresponsible enough to sire a child with you ," the last finger was lowered.

"Well, I didn't make him as a child . He was born as an adult, obviously. And I didn't give birth to him either," they turned around so Dio was facing their back.

"Explain."

"No. You didn't want to believe me."

A long-suffering sigh was heard. Then a squeak as Dio poked his lover in the ribs.

"Tell me."

"Nooooo."

The poking continued until Rainy sat up in bed.

"Fine. But I'm going to start at the very beginning then."

Golden eyes narrowed, "And when is that?"

Rainy crossed her arms over their chest, "1880."

Another sigh, "Go on then."

"Okay, so…"