Old Nightmares & New Faces

Darius's scars go deeper than his face. See what lies beneath.

Chapter
3
Old Nightmares, New Faces

I walk back into the shack and am greeted by Viktor, who still has that worried look on his face.
“Kakogo cherta tam proizoshlo (What the f**k happened out there)?”
“It was just the girl who lives and works in the shop in front of here,” I tell him. “We made a deal that if we keep them safe, she lets us stay. So, on that note, I want two purebloods fed and rested out there to guard that shop and keep an eye out for demons.”
“Why would you make such a deal without consulting me,” he asks in a more offended tone.
“Because it was an on the spot decision, Vik! I didn’t have time for consultations,” I snap at him. “Augh, I’m getting some sleep. You’re in charge until I wake up.”
I don’t wait for a reply. I just climb up a ladder, find a bed that someone, probably Viktor, made for me, and lay down. As soon as my head hits the pillow, sleep comes….and so do the nightmarish memories.

*****
The sun is stinging my eyes and the whiplashes are stinging my back. How much longer until the day is done? How much longer until the lashing stops and I can finally rest? How much longer until I get to return to my cell with my mother, father and half-brother Dorian?
“Keep moving you worthless, vampire filth,” the Supervisor shouts, signaling for the Whip-men to lash us again.
I put all my strength into pulling my part of the gigantic pillar that several other vampire slaves and I are pulling to its spot on an eventual temple to Rashomen, the cursed Demon King. Another temple, I should say. Until now, all temples were destroyed by the humans, but Rashomen has revealed both, demons and vampires to humans and has gotten them to worship him. Him, of all being and entities! How I would love to take one of these whip and see how he likes the lash of them.
As noon gives into twilight, a horn is heard. Three long bursts, a Gathering. We all gently set the pillar down and rush to the Courtyard. When we see the silver, demon made guillotine, we know the news isn’t good.
“All ye gathered slaves and citizens,” an announcer says from the center of the stage. “Announcing your king, Rashomen!”
There is a loud cheering as a man with silver hair and red-yellow eyes marches out onto the stage. He’s wearing the robes and trappings of royalty and has a very regal air about him. King Rashomen, the Devil himself.
“My humble subjects,” he starts out, his voice smooth like honey, yet sour like rotten milk. “I have called this Gathering tonight for a very important emergency. All of you know that I am a generous ruler. Even to the vampire slave, I bestow kindness. But it would seem that some would not think this way of me.
“Some would find me a ‘cruel and vicious tyrant’, or a ‘heartless beast from which there is no compassion’. It seems that there are those who, despite the stupidity of it, would dare plan to oppose me. Some who would plan to rise up and cast me from my throne. Tonight, we have two such conspirators in our midst. And tonight, we send them to the Abyss of Death with severed heads.”
The demons all cry out in joy and glory while we vampires look on in despair as we’re about to say goodbye to two of our brethren.
“Hey, Darius,” I voice says behind me. I turn to see a pale boy with hair like mine, but skin that’s slightly tan. Dorian. “Have you seen mom and dad?”
That question places panic in my heart. The truth is I haven’t seen them, not all day, in fact! My eyes fly to the stage as I realize what’s going on. A demon in a black hooded trench coat is escorting two figures onto the stage. My heart starts beating faster than a humming bird’s wings!
“These two vampires were caught slandering my name and planning a conspiracy against me,” Rashomen shouts out at the crowd. “As a last courtesy I will let them see your faces one last time. Behold, the traitors Melina and Draven Malvern!”
NO, I think to myself. Not my mother and father. Not them!
“These traitors to our kingdom have forgotten their place,” Rashomen continues. “They must be punished!”
The roar from the crowd intensified at his words. I looked to Dorian for guidance, but none was to be found. His eyes were glued on stage to the vampire that changed him, my father. Our father, with his head being placed in the guillotine alongside our mother, his vampiress, the one who’s been with him forever. The ones who are giving their lives for us.
“Do you criminals have anything to say before sentence is carried out,” Rashomen asks with an amused tone.
“You may be able to silence us two, lone vampires,” my father starts, “but you will never silence us as a species! Our voices will be heard from red earth to dark sky! And you, a demon rat who fancies himself a god, will perish by that which you repressed.”
The king seemed to consider this for a moment, looking thoughtful, but I saw something else in his eyes. It was something you would never think to see in a demon’s eyes. I saw fear, fear that my father might be right.
“Very well, then,” he said. He then nodded to the demon standing beside the execution device.
With a mighty tug, the blade came down on the necks of my parents, severing their heads from their bodies.


*****
I bolt up as the memory leads to that painful moment. The day that solidified my hatred for Rashomen, the day he took everything from me!
I breathe deeply to slow my beating heart. Why won’t these nightmares go away? How much longer am I to be tormented by such foul moments in my life? How long until my mind is at rest? I know the answer: when Rashomen is dead.
I get up and slip my black leather coat on, trying to clear my mind from the memory I just experienced. Every day and night since we escaped, I’m tormented by the memories of what happened before, and during, the Rebellion. Every time I close my eyes I see things that happened played back in my mind’s eye. I feel the same pain, the same fear, the same exact feelings of that night. No one, human, vampire, or demon should be subject to that.
“Darius,” a small voice says from behind me. “Daddy wanted me to see if you’re okay.”
I turn to see a small-child, dark-haired version of Viktor standing by the ladder. Little Aleksander Veltrovich, Viktor’s youngest, and most innocent, son. He and his two brothers, Vladimir and Nikolai, have always viewed me as a member of their family, just like Vik, so it’s no surprise that he’s concerned, too.
“I’m fine, Alek,” I say to him. “Go tell your dad I’m gonna check things out outside real quick, please.”
“Okay,” he says gleefully as he rushes off to tell Viktor of my intentions. He loves it when I ask him to do something. Makes him feel useful.
I head out to run another perimeter check. Everything seems fine, but then I see something on the ground. Upon further inspection, I see that it’s a book of some sort.
That girl must have dropped this, I think to myself. Wonder what she’s reading.
I flip the book open and take a look inside to see a bunch of hand-drawn pictures. I can tell that she’s got a talent for this. I come across a picture that looks almost exactly like the girl but older and with brown hair. The picture is drawn with such intense emotion that I know this woman was important to her. If only my psychic abilities would hurry up and develop faster so I can see the reason behind such intensity!
I decide to ask her about it when she returns. After all, wouldn’t she appreciate someone admiring her artwork? I don’t really know. The art of using a blade is much different than that of using a paintbrush, after all. She studied art and creation, making beauty, while I was the opposite. I studied vengeance and destruction, making death.
“So is everything okay out there, malo Drakuly,” Viktor asks when I enter.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. No demons running amuck out there.”
“What is that in your hand?”
I show him the book I found. “It belongs to that girl I met yesterday,” I tell him.
“By the way,” he begins. “What was her name, anyway, huh?”
That hits me like a blast of garlic-scented air hitting a fledgling. “I don’t know,” I admit. “We didn’t exactly have time for fond hellos and proper greetings out there.”
“Well, maybe you should consider learning her name, huh?”
“Alright, Vik,” I say to him after a thoughtful moment. “I’ll get to know her more.”

Author's Note

Chapter by Kent

Reviews

[Death Girl]

good job Kent now time to read Katies chapter right katies is the next one i think well anyways got to go bye bye.