Beginning of EndsA Chapter by WickedPenWielderThis is just a short intro, please review...does it make you want to read more?Journal Entry number: 18,030,849 June 23rd 2012 I have spent the better part of my 100 years slaughtering those that oppose me, in that short time making a name for myself, many call me a monster even among monsters and I believe the title is fitting. I was born in Sicily, Italy in the year of our lord, 1890 under rule of Prime Minister Francesco Crispi . My father was a barber and we lived well enough for the times. I was to inheriate everything he held dear, which was his little shop and a small home I grew up in. And though my dreams were bigger, I had the sense to not live beyond my means. My father and mother both went on about the life they had planned out for me, my career...My wife and family. I was weak then...sucoming to the fantasies of love and religion. I was to wed shortly after my 20th birthday to a peacekeepers daughter by the name of Abel. She was average in appearance and personality, someone I would presumably make an easy meal of after being reborn unto this life. On the eve of my 20th birthday, however, I met a stranger by the name of Nicholai while on one of my many nightly strolls. Isn't that how these things typically begin? He wanted a companion, I was assuming, but you know what is said of assumptions. Shortly after my transformation my maker revealed that I was to be an instrument...that he created me to merely use me. Now, power isn't something I necessarily craved while human, however, it most certainly was after my conversion. So, I killed him in one of the worse ways someone can be killed, then I left Italy and have roamed across every bleak and brilliant crevasse this tail-spin of a planet has to offer. I thought I had seen everything...Knew everything. That was until December 2nd 2011 when I met the person who has vowed to kill me, to perge the world of its most notoriuos demon. I thought it would be easy to make an example of her, usually even an extrodanary witch will eventually be overcome. But this girl...so young and innocent, yet so powerful and deadly. And this is how my fall from greatness of the wicked to love of the witch began. The reason I willingly walk from the shadows to the light of death for just a basking moment in the presence of the one called Candace. **************************** The cool sea wind whispers around my face, gently making a halo of red curls around me. The air is thick and salty, leaving my, lightly freckled, honey skin moist. The oceans tide swells and breaks in a rhythm that syncs with my own, bringing itself ever closer. My eyes tremble shut, my lashes fluttering like golden butterfly wings upon my cheeks. Words of an ancient creed pour effortlessly from my full, pink lips. My words are like the melody the water dances to, it follows, seamlessly wrapping around me. It envelops me in its protective walls, seeming to mimic a tunnel under the sea, only sprouting up above me like the eye of a deadly storm. The water whips around me like the wind of a tornato and my chant picks up momentum, I thrust my arms into the arm and the sea rises up almost striking at the sky. I breath in deeply and exhale with slow precision, in doing so I release the water...returning it back to its own natural rhythm. I open my golden brown eyes to the pink and orange sunset, streaking the evening sky with brilliance. This is the world I vowed to protect, it's what my sister would have wanted. A tear streaks down my cheek and I make no attempt to wipe it away, I'm not ashamed of missing her...i'm ashamed of how she was ripped from us. Annette had given up everything when our mother died of Overian Cancer, she gave up a home in another state, a career and life of her own just to come home and raise me and Lucas, our younger brother. She was like me, she held power in her spirit, although hers wasn't as...exaggerated as mine. "Candace, you hold great power inside of you, power i've never seen. You must remember this, If you do not use it to destroy evil then you are of the wicked and damned." Annettes words hit me like a hammer of terror. Destroy Evil? What evil?I remember thinking, but I was young and naive to things, i had a childs way of seeing the world through rose colored glasses. She had trained me herself along with a few other witches from her coven. But after so long I have begun to question the killing, wonder if I am just another beast slaying a beast...where does the line between us even exisit anymore? When my sister told me of Desmon Cielo I refused, I just wanted to be rid of this...this curse on my life. My hands are bloodstained black at the mere age of 16...and I blamed Annette. When she was killed...the guilt of my last words consumed me. The coven vowed to defeat the killer who was none other than this Desmon they claimed. Using my pain, fear and craving for vengence they convenced me the only way to not let Annette die in vain was to attack her murderer. June 30th, 2012 Dearest Diary, I'm lost. I have been for awhile. I feel as though I am failing everyone around me, especially Lucas. A member of my sisters coven, Lucia, took us in since Annettes death but it certainly isn't an act of kindness. She makes me do things, things I never wanted to do. She believes in attacking people who don't deserve it, people who are weaker. And when I told her I wouldn't play along anymore she used her power to hurt Lucas. His small body pale and weak in my arms, convulsing in hideous pain. I didnt know what to do, all I could think is I can't lose him too...So without thinking I agreed to the blood bond. I vowed myself to Lucia...to do her bidding. I slam my black leather diary shut and throw it across the room, my heart pounding as hot tears burn my cheeks. I brace myself for what I know is about to consume me, letting it now that im safe. I'm alone. © 2012 WickedPenWielderReviews
|
StatsAuthorWickedPenWielderVAAboutI have been writing stories since I could write. Even before then I was telling them to anyone who would listen. I seem to just look at an everyday thing and my mind turns it into some type of complic.. more..Writing
|