Alexandre – A Fragment

17 March 1828

I have managed to hide what I am from my dear William for just over a year now, but as was expected, my secret has been discovered.

“Alexandre…” A light touch upon my hand. So we were back to formalities were we? Fine then, I had mastered that art a long time ago and was willing to play this little game.

“Yes, Mr. Bennett?” He was stung, I could feel it. The touch was gone. A triumph and a tragedy for me all at once.

“Emile…” I flinched, not having expected that. Why did he have to insist on calling me that when he knew very well I didn’t like it? I hated him for it just as I loved him. Arms twined round my waist and I did nothing to hinder them but gave no response to the motion.

“I don’t care what you are or what you do… you are so very important to me and I don’t want to lose that.”

The words of one so young as he, who did not understand. He had to know. I had turned in his embrace and my lips were at his ear whispering that he needed to know everything and before I could stop myself or he could make a move my fangs had pierced the flesh of his neck and I was drawing his blood out of him. Sweet and so gently forced, he melted in my arms as I held him against me, the sheer ecstasy of such an embrace threatening to overwhelm me. I did not take much, though I longed to, and when I pulled back he reeled a moment in silence.

“Emile, I still don’t care.” Defiant to the last.

In that moment I knew for sure that my heart was no longer my own.

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Alexandre – Flight

Alex stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. That bastard! How could he have been so foolish? He should know what a responsibility it is to make a fledgling! He paused; then again, Lorenzo had never made a vampire before… But that wasn’t the point! Hadn’t he learned anything at Carec? He shook his head and his form disappeared as he raced through the trees. Miles he went, perhaps, fuming all the way. Soon, the sides of his vision were beginning to take on a reddish tinge and the hunger was becoming maddening. He needed to kill. Now.

Then, a light in the distance. He had just enough control left to stretch his hearing to see who was inside. The sounds of raucous laughter, bets of gambling, plans to kill. A den of thieves. That was all he needed to know and he didn’t have to worry about thinking anymore. The door would be bolted, all the better. Flying through the window, glass shattered everywhere catching the six or so men inside off their guard. His claws were out and he had ripped open the throats of two before anyone could even react. The others were up now and scattering, eyes watching the gaunt, white monster in their midst. Alex gave a jump and landed on a table, catching one man round the back of the throat, crushing it within his delicate grasp. Letting the man slide to the floor in a heap he noticed that two of the others had fled to the door and were trying desperately to undo the bolt when their attacker was suddenly within their midst. Alex stood just next to one of the men while the other pulled out a dagger and stabbed in an attempt to wound the horrible fiend. Alex merely pushed the other ruffian in the path of the dagger, which embedded itself in his chest. As the man slowly dropped to the ground, Alex pulled the dagger out and took the opportunity to return the favor by plunging it into its owner. Heh, how very quaint.

A moment out of the corner of his eye and he let out a little cry as a sudden pain ripped into his side and he turned to see the last man, a large muscled brute standing over him with a little smirk on his face as his dagger stuck out of the small mans side. The pain brought Alex back to reality as he realized that he had yet to feed and he reached back to tug the dagger out, flinging it away from him, the mans face changing to one of disbelief. Alex was upon him in an instant, arms forming a crushing embrace around him, his fangs ripping into the man’s neck as he fed in a frenzy. It took little time for him to be finished and he pushed the corpse away from him as he blinked and looked around at the destruction he had wrought. Realization suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks and he slid down to the ground, drawing his legs up against him and covering his head with his arms.

Bridget, that bright and lovely girl, was going to have to do this night after night simply in order to survive. And for what, to go mad like Isabella, or be destroyed like William? Or to be left behind, like himself…

His thoughts drifted to Annika probably lying asleep up in her room, exhausted from the change she had been forced to perform for him. For him… to many people had had to die just for that reason. So here he was again, back to the selfishly spoiled brat. Lorenzo’s voice echoed in his mind followed by his own.

She deserved the choice… she was going to die…’

Sometimes that is better!’

Sometimes death is better.

Sometimes it brings peace.

Sometimes…

Is that what his William had found in the flames?

And when the scythe of time had cut down Annika?

Blood tears were streaming down his face and he found that he no longer wanted to think, to feel. He was suddenly on his feet and out the window, the momentary pain of the glass cutting into his hands the only memory he carried of the movement. Then he was gone from the house of death, fled into the maze of trees in no particular direction. He ran until his sides ached and he was breathing hard and there he dropped to the ground and began to dig a deep hole in the soft earth with his delicate hands. He had done this fifty years ago and never though he would be doing it again so soon. The feel of the cool soil upon his skin and the simple smell of it calmed him just slightly. When the hole was deep enough he crawled down into it and buried himself, letting his eyes close as he felt the embrace of the earth, enjoying the comfort and closeness it gave him, like returning home after so very long…

(Edited 5/14/2015 for layout)