Chapter 1: Where the end is a new beginning
Chapter Text
Date: 9/9/1XXX
Location: Oakhurst (quadrant 23DR)
Priority level: 0 (needs to be tend to immediately)
Case summary: The Oakhurst curse
Operation leader: M. Thornvale
Case details: On the night between September 8th and 9th, another catastrophic event has unveiled over Oakhurst. The whole population of the town has been wiped out by a force currently unknown. Estimated casualties oscillate around two thousand and eight hundred dead. The perpetrator of the massacre is currently unknown. The only registered active vampire in the area (file attached) is known to be docile and friendly towards humans. It is being speculated that the killing spree has been committed by a newcomer into the area, or by an undocumented fledgling. A group has been sent to find answers to what happened that terrible night. Case will be updated accordingly.
The news of Oakhurst being wiped out once more were not surprising to Morcant. This little patch of land seemed forsaken by God for millennia, and no matter what Dies Rationis planned to put an end to them, something always slipped out of their control and blood was inevitably shed again. Apparently even putting one of their most trusted associates there wasn't enough... Which is exactly why Morcant decided to take charge of the group being sent to Oakhurst to investigate. Louis would never let something like that happen, would he? And since it did... That only spelled trouble to Morcant's dear friend.
The group of vampires and humans that arrived at the scene of crime expected a lot, but even with that, they were left speechless. It's been barely over a week since the news reached them, and since they departed towards this tiny town south from the capital. All that was left of Oakhurst were charred ruins of the houses and piles of half-decomposed corpses, littering the streets. The blood of the people stained the earth once more, dying it a disgusting burgundy. The scent of rot and massacred flesh was still thick in the air. Morcant was the first to cross the wrecked gates, his expression stoic and calm. He was the leader of their mission, and showing any sign of weakness could spell disaster for them. Especially if the one who did this was still roaming the area.
"Good Lord..." One of the men huffed, approaching a half-consumed, half-rotting body left right next to the gates. "Is it anything like the previous wipeouts, sir?"
"I'd argue it's even worse..." Morcant hummed, glancing around the area in search of clues. It wasn't his first time seeing such a horrible massacre, and yet... This felt different. He's been to Oakhurst multiple times. He recognized some of those faces, now forever frozen in twisted agony. And on top of everything, one question couldn't leave his mind. Where was Louis, in all of this...? "If it actually happened within one night... I can't imagine what sort of force the perpetrator would have to possess."
"You don't think it's the... You know..." Another man made a vague gesture somewhere north. The vampire hummed, deep in thought, before leaving the group and heading towards the town centre.
There, in the middle, stood a stone watchtower, the biggest and more impressive build in Oakhurst. The grey bricks were visibly scorched and the door was broken off, but other than that, it was easily the best preserved spot in town. The vampire poked his head inside. Right in the middle of the tower stood a glass beacon, keeping a large, golden crystal inside. It pulsated gently, pumping waves of invisible energy into the air. No wonder Morcant felt so tight and uncomfortable, the closer he got to the tower. So the beacons were still active... So if the beast they kept at bay wasn't the one who caused this whole mess, who was...?
"Sir, look! This must be how the fire started!"
Quickly, the vampire followed the voice of his companions. Indeed, behind the tower stood what once was likely a burning pyre. Now, it was merely reduced to ashes and scorched, still smoldering splinters. And among the bodies that fell into the flame during the massacre, one grabbed Morcant's attention more than others. A head of long, half-melted white hair, covering a charred, blistered face. A face that he recognized.
"No..."
Morcant dropped to his knees, clouds of ash picking up into the air on impact. Carefully and with great reverence, he pulled out the charred corpse from the rubble. What was once the body of a tall, eternally young man, was now nothing more than a disfigured carcass. Blood and dirt covered his once pristine face, the warm, kind eyes hollow and hazy. The vampire took a deep breath, struggling to keep up his mask.
"Louis... Why...?" He whispered, not expecting to get an answer - now, or never.
"Is that...? No, no it's impossible..." One of the men made the sign of the cross, as if to give the deceased vampire one last blessing. "How...?"
"One thing is for certain," Morcant decided to ignore just how much his voice was shaking. It wasn't often that a vampire, especially as old and as highly positioned as him, showed emotions. But how could he not, when he was cradling the corpse of one of his only friends in his arms? And he was powerless to save him... "It wasn't Louis who did it. If he did, there would be no one left to burn him..." The elder vampire pulled his thumb against his late companion's cheek, rubbing off the filth that he then sniffed. "It all must've happened either while he was being burned, or just after."
"Do you think the massacre happened because he was burned at stake...?"
"It's likely, but... But then, who...?" Morcant's eyebrows pulled down.
After a few more moments spent on a silent, likely meaningless prayer, the vampire rose from the remains of the pyre. After placing the charred body in one of his companion's arms to be buried, he turned north. He felt something coming from that direction... Definitely not the great evil sealed four hundred years ago. It was something... Smaller. More feral. Even more angry, somehow. He glanced down at his dirty hand, before sniffing it once more. He could feel someone that left his mark on Louis. The invisible connection carried off into the woods, accompanied by a trail of smeared blood and discarded body parts.
"Whatever it was, it left towards the forest," Morcant deduced. "And they were connected. A fledgling, perhaps...? Who's coming with me?"
"And what will we do with it?"
The vampire paused for a second. His eyes diverted back towards the remains of Louis, now carried away to never be seen by him again. The image was coming together in his head, however insane and grim it seemed. It wouldn't be the first time Louis had an unauthorized fledgling - as trusted as he was by Dies Rationis, his kindness and care of others sometimes got in the way of his common sense. But would a fledgling be able to wipe out a whole town in one night? That was the part that didn't fit in for Morcant. Who would possess such raw power to slaughter thousands of people in just one night?
"We'll do what we have to."
The group was quite lucky - with how still, downright dead the forest appeared, the scent lingered for a long time, allowing Morcant to follow it quite closely. The closer he was, the more he could decipher - and the more he knew, the more unbelievable the story appeared to him. Vampiric sense of smell was unmatched, and he was particularly gifted in this department. He could tell that the trail they followed belonged to a very young fledgling - the human stench of it was still overwhelming, almost drowning out its vampiric scent. It was probably not older than a few months... But how would it possess such immense power at such a young age? No, there had to be a different explanation... Hopefully, that lost fledgling would lead them to it.
Morcant only stopped once they approached the top of a hill quite a distance from Oakhurst. There, the remains of another stone tower loomed over the land - yet again, with an untouched, consecrated beacon. If only they possessed the power to protect this poor, forever cursed town... The vampire stopped, intensely sniffing the air, then took a few steps back. The patch of dirt he just stepped away from appeared freshly moved, as if someone covered it up recently.
"It's here," he said, observing as his human companions approached the spot with silver shovels in hand. In case things turned dire, most of their equipment could be used as makeshift weapons - though it was Morcant's primary responsibility to keep these men safe. "Start digging... But also be careful. We don't know what might be in there."
"Alright, boys, on three!"
Three different shovels dug into the ground at the same time, tossing the dirt away. Morcant's whole body tensed, his claws twitching as he dreaded what they might see underneath. The lesser the layer of soil got, the stronger the stench was getting. Someone was there...
Until suddenly, another strike of a shovel was interrupted by a pained growl.
"Halt!" Morcant commanded. His eyes traveled to the tool, which tip was now dirtied by dark, rotting blood. "Stand back. I'll deal with it."
Without any arguments, the humans stepped away from the improvised grave. Morcant' ears pinned down as he took a few careful steps forward. His group didn't manage to dig down a lot - maybe two, three feet of dirt. But that was enough to notice something our of the ordinary... First, a patch of dark, tattered cloth. Then, a part of someone's hand - slim, withered and with long, curved claws, still dirty from blood. Its wrist was cut open, rotting blood dripping down from the wound accidentally inflicted by the shovel strike. Morcant let out a startled hiss at a sudden movement. A vampire, for sure.... And still alive.
"Move back! And ready the chains! It's-"
Before Morcant could even finish his sentence, a monster leaped out of the ground and tackled him. The two vampires got tangled in a feral fight, claws and fangs cutting through the air. The wild fledgling possessed strength unimaginable for such a young thing. Its striking red eyes were full of such primal fury and anger, it startled Morcant and made him feel unsafe for the first time in centuries.
Eventually, the humans managed to capture the young vampire and wrap heavy, silver chains around his body. It collapsed on the ground, flailing struggling against his bindings. Loud, angry hissing and wailing escaped his throat. Morcant groaned in pain, long claw marks now marked his neck and bled profusely.
"Good Lord, what is this thing...?" The vampire winced in pain, before taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and putting it up to his wound.
"It's a monster!"
"You really think Louis made it?"
"We have to kill it! Someone give me a stake!"
"Hold on."
Slowly, the vampire rose from the ground and approached the furious fledgling. It kept on flailing, claws scratching against the blessed chains that burned through his skin. Its long, curly hair was dirty and tangled, stained with blood, just like its withered face with sunken cheeks. Once it stopped fighting back so much, Morcant could grab him by the hair and look him in the eyes. Slowly, the angry red began fading from its eyes, replaced with still hot, but tired hostility. In reality, they were brown, and so similar to Louis'... Morcant was actually taken aback. It was almost as if he was looking into the eyes of his late friend.
This fledgling wasn't just some heartless, senseless monster. There was a person underneath all that burning anger... And he couldn't be all bad if Louis, out of everyone, was his sire, right...? Morcant dropped the young vampire, letting it fall to the ground.
"We're taking it back to Blackwynn."
"What?!" One of the men turned to him. "Morcant, you can't be serious! It's a dangerous monster!"
"It's Louis' fledgling," the vampire turned to his group, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "Something must've happened... We need to get to the bottom of this, before we make our judgement."
"Morcant, sir, we can't do this. What are we supposed to do with it once we get to Blackwynn? Keep him trapped? Kill it there? We cannot possibly keep it alive if it caused all of this mess!"
"We have to figure this out first." Morcant raised his voice a little. He knew he wasn't being reasonable at this moment. If anyone else was the operation leader, they would've staked him already... But he couldn't. Whenever he looked down at this dirty, furious fledgling, he couldn't see the traces of Louis all over him. If there was something to preserve from him, even if it took work and effort... He was willing to try. "Maybe we can get him to calm down, and tell us what happened. There has to be an explanation to this..."
"It's too risky, sir!"
"I'm taking responsibility for it." Morcant said in a serious, stern tone that would take no objection. After putting on a black, leather glove, he grabbed one end of the chains and pulled on it. "Let's get back to the carriage. I need to update our report."
The fledgling clearly wasn't happy when the men shackled his hands and picked him up, but he was too tired to continue fighting back. Not to mention, the pure silver chain was burning through his skin, leaving nasty wounds. It's not that he wanted to cooperate - he just needed to survive. That's what Louis would want him to do, right...?
Case update #1: The expedition group has returned from Oakhurst, confirming no survivors besides the supported perpetrator of the massacre. The mission was a success, resulting in only one injured individual. The group managed to retrieve a young fledgling, likely only days old at the time of the disaster. Due to how unlikely it seems that such a young pup would be able to cause such carnage, further investigation is required. It will be kept at the Blackwynn facility for the time being until it can be interrogated.
The first week after the strange fledgling's arrival at the Blackwynn facility, the building was filled with loud, anguished wailing from sunset to sunrise. Even when shackled with silver and sparsely fed, the young vampire seemed to have incredible amounts of energy it could spend just driving everyone crazy. It scratched the walls, banged on the cold, metal door and took any chances it had to attack the organization members that came to check up on it. Communication was difficult, as it refused to let out any other sound than angry growls and cries.
And the whole time, Dies Rationis members hung the whole matter over Morcant.
"Why did you bring this thing here?"
"You should've staked it where you found it."
"And what if it escapes? We have to kill it, the sooner, the better."
"Be reasonable, Morcant! We can't work with something like this!"
But the vampire was unyielding. The memory of first recovering that fledgling from the soil and capturing him was still fresh on his mind, reinforced by the fresh scar on his neck. It's been centuries since another vampire managed to damage him, and a wound inflicted by another creature of the night would never truly fade. Morcant spent the whole next week thinking over what he should do - would've been praying, if only a dark being like him could still do it. Maybe Louis left behind some sort of advice that he should follow? Even after recovering all of the letters they recovered throughout the past decades and deciphering them day and night, there was nothing. As if this fledgling just appeared and decided to become a problem. But his eyes... He carried a piece of Louis in himself, even if he wasn't yet aware of that. None of the letters mentioned him, however... Was this a recent development? So recent, that the late mayor of Oakhurst didn't manage to even tell him about it? And if so, what was Morcant supposed to do?
What would Louis do?
After about a week, the constant wailing started slowly dying out. The fledgling was clearly running out of strength and energy, especially once workers of the organization refused to feed him further. Morcant often found himself roaming the halls of the eastern wing of the building, close to where the young vampire was kept; he was listening in to any signs of the fledgling coming around. They couldn't keep him caged like this forever, that's for sure. Practically speaking, he was draining resources and posing a huge risk, if he was ever to get out. Morally speaking, it was inhumane to keep him locked up like this... He was like a wild animal; no wonder he hated his entrapment so much. But how could such a small thing contain this much pure rage, hatred and raw power? Was there really no reasoning with him?
That was something Morcant was willing to test.
After a particularly heated meeting with other leaders of Dies Rationis, Morcant left the room and immediately took the keys to the room where Owen was kept. Expecting what was about to happen, other vampires followed behind him, trying to talk him out of this idea. Just minutes earlier, he was fighting tooth and nail to not just kill the problematic fledgling and first give him a chance to speak. What would it say, though? If it even could speak... Well, Morcant believed that he did. And he would grant the fledgling his voice, even if it was going to be a disappointing encounter.
"You can't do this, Morcant! What if he attacks you again? Last time, he actually managed to harm you! Who knows what-"
"I can defend myself," the vampire argued once the key already landed in the keyhole. He already made up his mind, and they were not going to stop him. He needed to get to the bottom of this, he needed his answers. "You can stay here if you want to. But don't come in."
"Morcant, wait!-"
But at this point, the elder vampire already slithered into the room and closed the door behind his back.
The fledgling was laying on the ground, hardly moving. The only sign of life was his narrow ribcage, which rose and fell with each breath. He was so young and inexperienced, he didn't even realize he didn't need to breathe... Finally, Morcant had enough time to properly look at him. He probably wasn't older than twenty, guessing by just how small and famished he was. The shackles were almost too big for him, with how narrow his wrists were - but they still left deep, burned scars on his skins, one that would probably never fully heal. His clothes were dirty, tattered, signifying that he was of low birth. Whenever his skin would be exposed, old bandages covered every inch of his skin, as if he was damaged, or diseased. Long, messy curls, which faded from white back into his natural brown color, were tied up into a low ponytail. His face was still dirty from soil and blood, as he was never given a chance to clean himself after being dug up from the ground. Despite that, Morcant could clearly see his slim face, sharp cheekbones poking out through his unhealthily tinted skin, and freckles covering the bridge of his small nose. His lips were dry, tips of his fangs poking out. Every now and then, his fingers twitched in sleepy convulsions, drawing Morcant's attention to his long, curved claws. Those were surely unusual... His whole appearance was. It was a sign of something Morcant had seen before, albeit extremely rarely...
"You had a revenant fledgling, Louis...?" He asked quietly, not expecting an answer. Before he could approach the captured fledgling, however, he picked up on something he didn't even realize earlier. That he was actually being watched, with the young thing's eyes barely open, but turned in his direction. When did he wake up? Was he awake this whole time, just severely weakened? The elder vampire took a step back. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but after their fight atop that hill, the fledgling intimidated him a little. He did not want these claws to get anywhere near him again. "Can we just talk? You can speak, right...?"
The fledgling didn't answer at first. Slowly, he turned from his side to his stomach, growling in pain as his strained body flared up in pain. At this point, he was starving, and his throat was in pain after screaming for so long. At least he had no energy left to fight back... Maybe he would finally be willing to talk.
"I need to know a few things... Do you have a name?"
"Where am I?" The young vampire responded, his voice raspy and strained. Just because he had no strength left to attack, didn't mean he was going to be easy to work with.
"You are in the headquarters of Dies Rationis. Has Louis ever told you about us...?"
The fledgling let out a sharp hiss, which quickly turned into coughing.
"Don't... Don't say his name... You don't..." He wheezed, his eyes immediately filling up with tears.
"He was your sire, wasn't he...?"
"Louis..." The monster wailed, dropping back to the ground. His whole body was shaking, completely depleted of both energy and will to go on. His heavy chains rang with each movement, but at this point he got used to the burning pain.
"You miss him, don't you? I... I miss him too. He was my friend..." Morcant carefully sat down on the ground, just behind the point where the fledgling would be able to hit him, should he get angry again. "I'm... I'm sorry that you lost him. I'm trying to piece together what happened, and-"
"They killed him! They burned him at stake!" The fledgling yelled, his voice breaking from emotions. "Just after he turned me, and- I couldn't save him! All I could do was what I did!"
"So... It was you, who killed everyone."
"Yes!"
The fledgling's fangs shone bright in a big, sadistic, but also broken smile. He seemingly took pride in what he did... But he clearly didn't want to be pushed to do this. He was placed in a situation where the only suitable response was perpetuating the cycle of violence. Eye for an eye... Or in this case, thousands of eyes for one eye. But what a precious eye it was... Morcant couldn't excuse him, of course. But he would be lying if he said he didn't understand why he did it. With his sire being someone as special as Louis...
"He healed me... He saved my life... And for that, they burned him..." The fledgling dropped to the ground once more, curling up and struggling to keep himself from crying.
"Saved you? Were you sick, or something...?"
Reluctantly, the young vampire nodded. That gave even more credit to Morcant's theory... Those claws were not that of a normal vampire. Whenever the fledgling spoke, his sharpened teeth were visible - his incisions getting inhumanly sharp as well. On top of the fact that he was sick, probably lethally... Did Louis know that his human friend would not turn into a graceful vampire, but a feral revenant...?
"And what are you going to do with me now?" The fledgling growled.
"Most of the organization wants you staked... Killed, I mean."
"Good," he murmured, then raised his eyes up to Morcant. "Give me a stake. I'll do it myself."
Morcant's eyebrows pulled down, as he began thinking. No, such a chance couldn't be just wasted... Maybe he could make a case for him, since he was such a rare specimen. And he could be useful to the organization, if trained properly... Could they even train him though? Would he ever become cooperative enough? Morcant cared about preserving what could be the last saved piece of Louis - but could he do it at a possible cost of other lives?
All he could do was try.
"I have a... Different proposition to you."
"I don't want anything else," the fledgling growled. "All I wanted in my life is to be with him! And if I can't- What else is there?!"
"There is..." Morcant took a deep breath. The fledgling was laser-focused on his late sire... And he couldn't blame him. Unfortunately, he had to use it for his own advantage. "You don't have to follow him into the grave. Louis helped us..."
"With what?"
Another deep breath. The vampire sat properly on the ground, his voice taking on a more informative tone.
"Dies Rationis is... An organization that unites vampires and humans, and that helps them coexist. Louis was a member... He helped other vampires."
"Well, I don't want to help," he grunted in response.
"Wouldn't he want you to follow in his footsteps...?"
For the first time, the fledgling's face softened even so slightly. The idea of doing what his beloved sire would do, fulfilling his legacy this way... Would he really be given such a chance, after what he did to the people of Oakhurst? He scrunched his nose and raised his head once more.
"It's a trick."
"It's not... We are willing to give you a chance. You don't have to be a monster... You can do something good. You can make Louis proud."
The fledgling hissed. Deep down, he knew that this weird guy was just using the words he knew would work on him... But then again, Louis had the kindest of souls, and he loved helping others. He would be proud if he followed in his footsteps... Probably more than he would be, if he knew what he did in his name.
"You can have a home here," Morcant continued to talk "You can be a real value to Dies Rationis... And you can repay your debt to the people you hurt."
"I couldn't care less about them," the fledgling hissed quietly.
"But you care about Louis, don't you?"
The fledgling wanted to wail. He was being manipulated, and he knew it... But the last few weeks put him in this feral, barely coherent state, where nothing seemed quite real for him. His ears were still filled with the screams of his recent victims. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth, even weeks after the massacre, and days after the last time he was fed. Louis never mentioned this man, but maybe, just maybe, he was actually saying the truth...? If so, putting his trust in the wild fledgling he barely knew made him a complete fool. How could he be so stupid to give him a chance...? Could he even be given a chance, to begin with...?
"So? Do you want to make him proud...?"
Case update #2: The fledgling (whose name turned out to be Owen) agreed, after long discussion, took up the offer to join Dies Rationis. The board agreed that his unique skillset as a revenant could turn out invaluable to the organization's cause, and his training will begin immediately.
New protocols are to be developed, to ensure that his instincts do not cause lashouts and further harm.
Louis' file is to be moved into the archives.
Initiate Oakhurst repopulation procedure.
Chapter 2: Where a weapon is forged
Summary:
It takes long to develop a weapon suitable to kill vampires. Especially when it's loudly asking for the same fate.
Notes:
First of all, I'd like to thank you all of the incredible support you've shown this story so far. I assure you, I have a lot prepared for this, so I hope you're prepared for what's coming <3
Chapter Text
The first few days Owen spent as a Dies Rationis member were just the calm before the storm.
The revenant had more than enough time to sit in his room (which was more akin to a prison cell, devoid of anything that made it feel even remotely homely) and recover from all the strain he was put through in the recent weeks. The humans and vampires alike avoided him as much as possible - and he couldn't blame them. Even if his captors eventually began feeding him again, that didn't mean he was going to let go of his grudge against them. They dragged him away from home, from the resting place of the only man he ever cared about, and now barely acknowledged his existence. How easier would it be if they just let him go, or better yet, staked him to death... Owen considered attempting an escape more than once, but the organization was annoyingly considerate when it came to keeping him locked up. There was a singular window, covered with a crate far too narrow for even his bat to slip through. Anything he was given, was passed through a hatch in the door - and even if he took his chance that way, he'd still be trapped in the corridors of the facility. And escape would likely not just end with them killing him - they would've done it much earlier, if that was the case. No. They wanted to make use of him, before they'd finally decide that it's time for him to go. And Owen couldn't wait for that moment to happen.
File update #1: First draft of the Revenant Protocol has been finalized. A new brew is being tasted, aiming to keep the weapon at a suitable level of physical strength, but also dormant enough so that it doesn't pose a threat. The recipe will need adjustment, the most up to date version is attached. Updates on the efficiency are pending.
The first sign that something changed happened when he was fed one morning.
Usually, only a small cup of blood was passed through the hatch in the door. It was heavy, metal, so that he wouldn't shatter it and use it as a weapon. His hands were weakened by how long he's been wearing his silver shackles; the burns deepened so much, they likely reached his bones at this point. This time, however, he wasn't greeted by the usual rusty scent of blood. Instead, he found a cup with a clear, pale liquid that smelled awful. Chemical. Unnatural. It almost made Owen retch. The revenant growled, his claws leaving yet another mark on the heavy doors.
"What the hell is this?" He grunted.
"Get used to it. This is what you'll be getting from now on," a voice he didn't recognize responded.
"Yeah, right..." The fledgling growled, before slumping on the ground. They weren't serious, right? Did they want to starve him to death? Was it even possible, if he was an immortal being now? Or did they want to focus solely on torturing him? Not a great move, if they wanted to make him a part of their silly little organization. The revenant let out another growl, before reluctantly dipping his tongue in the metal cup.
Immediately, Owen spat out the drink, dry heaving with disgust. His mouth was burning with the most disgusting concoction he was ever made to try. It was both nauseatingly sweet and bitter at the same time. Dry, sandy film covered his tongue and the inside of his mouth, each shallow breath he took taking on the same, gross taste. His fangs began tingling, as if a single touch of the drink was enough to burn through them. He dropped the cup, letting the brew spill all over the floor.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Owen began banging on the floor. "You bastards! Are you trying to kill me?!"
But by then, the person that brought him the drink was gone. Or at least, they were no longer responding. The fledgling growled, before curling up in his favorite corner. His stomach growled with hunger, since the tiniest taste of something reawakened his hunger. Maybe if they realize that this stuff is no good for him, they'll bring back the normal blood...?
But by evening, Owen was brought the exact same concoction.
"I'm not drinking that."
The vampire immediately grabbed the cup and tossed it at the person on the other side of the door. Most of the drink spilled on his side, but some of it sprayed all over the stranger's face. He wanted to get a reaction out of them, anything, to make him feel like his pain and anger was seen... But there was no response. The hatch was shut.
"Stupid idiot! I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!" The revenant began banging on the door, his claws leaving deep, uneven marks. But they weren't enough to break them, enough to set him free. "Let me go! Let me go, or I'll kill you all!"
For the rest of the night, the whole hall was completely quiet. No one came to listen to Owen's woes. No one came to talk to him, or negotiate with him, or to calm him down. The fledgling repeatedly assaulted the door, trying to break the lock and free himself - but with time, his exhaustion and hunger got the better of him, driving him more and more tired.
"You can't keep me here! You can't...! You... You can't..." He wailed, slumping against the door and dropping on the ground. The pain in his hands burned anew, as the barely healed scars reopened from the repeating strikes. The revenant turned on his back, gasping for breath. He really did feel like he was suffocating. Agreeing to this whole deal was a mistake... Is this how his life was going to look now? Just a neverending streak of pain, starvation and loneliness? In a way, it wasn't all that different to his old life... And at the same, it was so much worse. "Louis... Is this... Is this good...?" He whimpered, curling up on the ground, struggling to calm down his breathing. The bitter taste reappeared. He would have to get used to it, wasn't he...?
File update #9: After a week of resistance, the weapon finally began obediently ingesting the brew. The recipe is still to be refined, and the exact effects on the body are to be seen. No staff was injured in the experiment.
Owen did not remember his first official training session. He could, however, recall everything before, and the aftermath of it.
He was pulled out of his room early in the morning, while he was still deep in his nervous, paranoid sleep. It's been months since he had a good night's sleep - it's hard to enjoy a nice nap when one is trapped in a tight cell without a way out. The recipe to his brew was changed again, causing him indigestion accompanied by vivid nightmares. Ones that left him in an exhausted, paranoid state, but he couldn't recall their exact content. The fledgling was eventually woken up by someone barging into his room (although that was quite a generous word for this place), and before he could even defend himself, a heavy, silver muzzle was forced upon him. It wasn't even needed - at this point, the revenant was too tired to fight back. His whole body trembled from exhaustion, as if a fever took over him. Even thinking was difficult for him at this point, his only hope being that he could return to sleep sooner than later. Even his nightmares were better than what likely awaited him among the other members of Dies Rationis.
For the first time in months, Owen was outside. The day was cloudy, so the sun didn't feel like thousands of needles piercing his face. The air was heavy, moist, a storm was brewing. The revenant tilted his head up. There was nothing that prevented him from flying off... Aside from the muzzle, of course. And several men and vampires lined along the inner courtyard of the building, each armed with a crossbow or a musket. They were likely commanded to shoot, should anything go wrong and should Owen attempt to run. The vampire hung his head low, bracing himself for what's coming.
Eventually, his muzzle was removed - but at this point, the revenant's mind was far, far away from this place. It was back in Oakhurst. Back with Louis. Is this what he would've truly wanted for Owen...? If he worked with all those people, they couldn't be all bad, could they? Maybe if he just played along for a while, they would finally let him be. The vampire looked down at his hands. The old bandages were almost torn to shreds, revealing deep bruises left by Owen's numerous attempts at escape. His mangled fingers trembled, shaken by a weakness that permeated throughout his whole body. In many ways, he felt even worse than he did when he was a human. Sure, his sickness was no longer progressing... But his wounds were never given a proper chance to heal. He was starving, only fed something that had enough nutrients to keep him going and not much more. It made his whole body feel heavy, uncomfortably hot, straight up wrong. The sun scratched at his skin. His own smell, of someone that wasn't given a chance to wash himself in months, disgusted him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go... He was supposed to be with Louis, they were supposed to be fine... What happened...?
"Hey, you! You deaf, or just pretending? Move!"
A scream reached him, followed by a slap to the face. It burned as hell on his freshly wounded face. The revenant stumbled back, clutching the sore spot. The man that slapped him was wearing a thick, leather glove - lined with silver, for extra pain. Immediately, furious growl escaped Owen's lips.
"You're making this more difficult than it needs to be!-"
Owen didn't care what he was about to be told. It only took him a second to finish this. Just a second, and his attacker was laying on the ground, throat ripped out, crushed by the vampire's teeth.
The air filled with the sound of arrows and bullets being shot at Owen. Several missed, but a few pierced through his arms and chest. The revenant let out a long, agonizing cry. A disgusting, bitter taste of blood filled his mouth - he threw it all up on the corpse of his latest victim. The brew messed with him in more ways than one, now even blood made him nauseous. Before he could even try to fight back, a heavy, silver net was tossed on top of him, preventing him from flying off.
"Chains, we need chains!"
"Good lord... I told you that we needed to put it down immediately!"
"Someone go get Morcant!"
"This is enough! We need to stake it!"
"Hold on!" Morcant's voice carried in the air as he bursted out into the courtyard. The sounds of gunshot reached him from his room. He didn't even need to see Owen to knew just how bad that sign was. And there he was, tangled in the silver net, flailing, hissing and retching the remnants of a man he just killed. "Oh god... Owen, what have you done..."
But the revenant was past trying to appease the organization members. He fought as much as he could, ignoring just how much damage it did to his body. The bullets and arrows poked out of his skin, each movement deepening the wounds. Blood, sickness and saliva dripped from his fangs. His eyes were a shining, bloodshot red, as he growled and hissed at anyone who tried to get close. Owen knew he wouldn't get out of it. But he also wouldn't let himself get taken down easily.
"Owen, calm down!" Morcant crouched down a few feet in front of Owen, deeply disturbed by how much the fledgling was fighting back. This little experiment of his just cost another life... He could feel the eyes of everyone on him. It was his fault that it happened. He said that he would take responsibility for Owen. Even months into his stay here, he was as difficult to deal with as when he arrived... "Owen! Get a hold of yourself, damn it!"
"You still think this is a good idea, Morcant?" Another vampire approached him, his musket still pointed at Owen. "You know how revenants are. We never should've tried it in the first place. He can never be one of us."
"He's Louis' fledgling! I don't believe that there isn't something we can do!" Morcant argued, his eyes still glued to Owen. The fledgling was getting weaker, his cries were getting quieter and quieter. Tears filled his eyes, streaking down his injured cheeks. "We just have to..."
"Have to what? Morcant, how many people will die until we can finally control it?"
"I... I don't know."
Eventually, Owen collapsed on the ground. His breathing was heavy, whistling - one of the arrows hit him in the back and likely pierced his lung. His big, furious eyes were still glued to Morcant, as if asking him what he did to deserve all of this. The elder vampire took a deep breath, struggling to recollect himself, then got up from the ground.
"It's an investment into the future of the organization," he said. "Trust me. He will save so many more people. I know it."
"Idiot..." The vampire growled, but lowered his musket.
"Take him to the medical ward and patch him up. We'll figure out other procedures to make training safer."
Owen quit fighting back, letting the other members of the organization drag him back into the building. Every time a shiver of agony shook his body, the other men acted nervously, unsure whether the revenant was ready for a round two. It was clear that before anyone would even want to touch him, they'd have to make sure he was unable to fight back. Through the use of drugs, heavy bindings, or both.
"How many, Morcant?" Morcant's vampiric coworker spoke right behind his back, repeating his earlier statement. "How many people will we lose, until you give up on it?"
"Louis wouldn't want to-"
"Louis is dead, Morcant! And he made a mistake by siring such a disgusting abomination!" The vampire growled. "When humans say they fear vampires, this is what they mean!"
"I'll figure it out." The elder vampire hissed. "We just need time..."
"One of you is going to destroy thousands of years of work we put into this organization."
"Then so be it."
Soon, Morcant was the only person left on the courtyard. He tilted his head up, looking up at the cloudy sky. Was he really making a mistake? Should he value the life of Louis' fledgling over the lives of other people? Maybe the others were right, and he should've staked Owen immediately... But now, he couldn't. He already gave him a chance. And he had to see it through.
If only the price wasn't this high...
File update #33: The first training session of the weapon was deemed a failure. In total, one person was killed and three were injured during and in the aftermath of the attempt. Protocols are to be adjusted to account for the weapon's unwillingness to cooperate. The brew recipe is to be adjusted, to keep the weapon more docile and less dangerous.
Every now and then, Owen woke up after a particularly heavy, deep nap. It was preceded by getting fed with the same disgusting drink as always - this time it tasted just a little different. Then, upon waking up, he would find himself with stitched up wounds on his body, all of unknown origin. Eventually, he stopped wondering where they came from. As long as he wasn't there to feel all this pain, did it really matter?
It's been way too long since his first training session. For months, he was put back in his cage (granted, it eventually got a considerable update, as he was finally given a bed - a metal one, so that he wouldn't break it as easily), not allowed outside again. All he could do was either nap or stare at the ceiling, marinating in his anger and permeating exhaustion. Eventually, the pain just became a part of his daily routine anew. Yet another thing that felt as a new normal, yet was so much worse than what he experienced thus far.
Eventually, Owen began noticing his body slowly changing. All his life, he was scrawny and narrow, most of his bones were easily visible. With time and even without his effort, a layer of lean muscle covered his sickly skeleton. But it didn't feel like good muscle mass - it was hard, thick, as if a layer of armor forced under his skin. It didn't take the fledgling long to figure out that this disgusting concoction he was fed was to blame. The recipe was constantly changed, finding yet new ways to make him feel sick and disgusted with himself. But not drinking it wasn't an option either - vampiric hunger was so much worse than starvation that Owen experienced as a human.
Sometimes, the revenant just laid there on his bed, examining his arms and wishing he could rip them out. They didn't feel like him anymore. He was forced to take off his bandages - they were nothing but bloody shreds at this point, and he was never given replacements. The solid mass under his skin felt suffocating. They wanted their weapon to be strong, but also not too strong, so that he wouldn't be too difficult to handle... So instead they made him into this abomination, one that hated every second of his existence. Owen slumped on his bed, wishing he could just suffocate himself with his pillow. That wouldn't work. He tried it once, only to find out that vampires did just fine without oxygen.
"Louis..." The revenant whispered, his voice breaking. With how much he growled and hissed and roared at humans and vampires alike, his throat was likely permanently damaged. How long has he spent here already? Far too long, but also not long enough to atone for his sins just yet... "Are you... Are you proud of me...? Is this what you would've wanted...?"
The fledgling curled up on the bed, his claws digging deep into the skin on his sides. There was just no escape from pain - his body ached when he was hungry, and when he finally had a chance to feed, he was immediately hit with a brand new wave of sickness and nausea. He didn't deserve anything better than this, did he...?
His ear twitched when he heard the hatch in the door open, and a fresh cup of the brew was slid inside. Owen heavily pulled himself up from the bed and approached the door. If he had to choose between two painful options, he at least wouldn't sleep on an empty stomach again... The disgusting taste of the brew never got better. He just found out how to get through it, without thinking about it much.
If this is what Louis would've wanted... Maybe he didn't want well for Owen after all...?
File update #472: The weapon has finally shown signs of consistent cooperation for a period of over seven days, which marks a breakthrough since the project started. It only took three decades and tens of harmed and fallen members to accomplish the task. The daily agenda, protocols and feeding recipe does not need further updates for the time being.
The weapon has shown incredible resistance to outside influence, but even it couldn't fight back forever. Its strength, ferocity and agility far surpasses that of many top soldiers of the organization. However, its antisocial tendencies means its attempts to work with a human partner have been fruitless thus far. We cannot put full trust in it just yet, until we find a suitable guardian for it that it will cooperate with. It is also unsuitable to be sent out to work alone, as we cannot be yet sure whether its conditioning became permanent.
Updates about future human guardians pending.
Owen was done fighting for now.
With time, the revenant realized that fighting back against his captors only brought him more pain. It was easier to just drift off into his head and pretend that he wasn't really around, all while his superiors commanded him things he didn't want. This way, he didn't even notice when weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and years into decades. He could go on like this for a while. Not living, just surviving. Not that he wasn't used to this state.
Having a routine wasn't all bad either. Owen woke up early, was fed a small portion of the same disgusting concoction that made his guts twist in pain, and was then taken for training. Most of his day consisted of that. Quickly, his role in the organization became apparent - and why so many people referred to him as 'the weapon', with no regards to his name. He was the strong, feral vampire that could get the job done and slaughter any enemy he was forced to face against. And as long as he had enough hatred and disdain for everyone in his mind to keep him going, his training went well. The weakness in his arms never truly went away, but with time, Owen figured out ways to mask it - if only to return to his room late in the evening and immediately hit the bed. This way, he never had to think about what he went through and how long he'd be forced to keep at it. Maybe one day, he would be finally able to atone for his sins. And until then, he could pretend that he wasn't really there, and that none of this was actually happening.
His cooperation came with certain perks. Once a week, he was allowed a day off, which he usually just slept through - to recover from the last six days of intense training. Every few days, he was allowed to wash himself; always keeping his eyes closed, just so that he didn't have to see all the damage done to his body in the recent decades. He was allowed certain personal items that the organization was more or less sure he wouldn't use as a weapon - a pillow, a blanket, a hair brush, even a few books, even though reading was not really his thing. He was encouraged to socialize with the other members of Dies Rationis (only under certain, strict protocols, that would prevent him from hurting anyone) - but Owen would much rather spend all of this time alone, rather than with his captors. The same thing happened when they tried to give him basic education - the revenant showed little to no interest, hoping they would finally leave him alone. It would be so much easier if they just took the hint that he was only there to get the job done, and possibly die somewhere out there if possible...
That option never truly left his mind. True, with time, things got better - but that didn't mean they got good. Most organization members either saw him as an item, an inconvenience, or didn't perceive him at all. The only person that only really used Owen's name was Morcant - but even he was far from perfect. After that memorable first training session, he never got personally involved with anything that was done with Owen - only ever observing from afar, sometimes making eye contact and giving the fledgling a stern look. He knew that one. It meant 'you agreed to this, now you have to live with the consequences of your actions'. Owen couldn't decide between resenting this man, and being grateful for his existence. He could've been the only one perceiving him as a person - definitely not as a good one, or one deserving much compassion. And every time he mentioned Louis, Owen had to hold his breath to not show tears or any signs of weakness. The same question was constantly circling Owen's mind, not letting him rest peacefully at night. Was all of this really what Louis would've wanted for him? If he survived it, if they made it out of Oakhurst alive - would he really want his friend to become a living weapon for the organization? Was it all that he was good for? Did Louis know he was a bad, rotten person from the start, and set it all up? No, it's impossible... Not sweet, kind Louis... He wouldn't. Right...?
One morning, a stranger appeared at Owen's doorstep.
Someone who called themselves his guardian.
Owen didn't even look at them, immediately erased their name from his mind the second they said it. They continued talking, but the revenant just turned away, much more keen on staring at the wall than on them. This supposed guardian was young - probably wasn't even born yet when Owen began his training. How long has it been? Three decades? Four? Five? Time stops mattering so much when one is immortal, especially when they're trapped with no escape. His only way of measuring the passage of time were the seasons passing by outside of his window, and how the human members of the organization aged. With time, Owen began noticing even more unfamiliar faces than usual. It didn't, obviously, apply to the vampires - and he dreaded thinking that they couldn't die as easily, so that he wouldn't have to deal with them anymore.
"...and our first mission together is next week! Aren't you excited? I'm looking forward to working with you!" The guardian's peppy tone rang in Owen's ears, causing him to gag.
"No, you don't."
"What do you mean...?"
Owen turned his head ever so slightly. The doors were closed. Opening them took quite a while, and they opened inwards. They didn't even know what they walked into, did they...?
"No one is happy to work with me." The revenant got up from his bed, his eyes sharp and focused. He approached the unsuspecting human. The brew he was fed helped him grow a couple of inches, even though his silhouette was still slender and famished. He loomed over the human, his claws twitching. Oh, it would be so easy to do this right now... And undo all the progress the organization thought they made in the past years. And Owen was so, so hungry... "No one is happy to be with me, no one is happy to see me. If you are, then you haven't seen enough in your life to work here."
"I've seen enough!" The human fought back. Owen looked down at them, but their face blurred in his eyes. Of course. It didn't matter. It was just another person that was doing to see him for a monster he likely was. Why even try? "I completed my training, and was permitted to work with you! I have always wanted to be a vampire hunter, since I was a kid!"
"A vampire hunter..." Owen pushed the human against the door, looming over them with his fangs popped open. "So you're out to kill all these bad, evil vampires, right?"
"Yes!"
"Well then..." His teeth shined bright in a deep, unsettling smile. Let's see how you handle this bad vampire, then..."
Seconds later, the human's last, agonizing scream filled the halls of the facility.
Owen dropped to the ground, hungrily ripping the still wriggling corpse into pieces. The image of their face quickly vanished from his mind, as they were never real to begin with. The taste of blood in his mouth made him want to puke, but he forced himself to ingest a few bits of human meat. It tasted just as good as all the way back in Oakhurst. Even better, truth be told - times changed, and so did the nutrition in people's food. The revenant angrily growled and grumbled, struggling to keep his meal down. But if he was a real vampire, he had to do it, right? True vampires are powerful, free creatures of the night that feed on blood, after all.
And apparently, he was neither of those things - he thought as he returned all the contents of his stomach back on the floor.
File update #473: The attempts to find the weapon a suitable guardian have been postponed after the first attempt has ended up in a tragedy, costing the newly trained recruit his life. The weapon's improvement was likely just a cover up and it's not to be trusted in any capacity. New safety protocols to be introduced, to prevent future lashouts.
Training. Drinking the disgusting brew. Sleeping. Meeting new guardians. Disposing of them, whenever possible. More training. Throwing up whatever else he tried to eat, only to obediently return to the brew. Trying and failing to socialize. Sleeping even more. Training again. Being sent out on missions. Being pulled back from them, before he could find a chance to finally escape. Waking up from vivid nightmares. Crying about said nightmares. Wiping the tears off, to not ruin his unbothered monster persona. Feeding again. Training.
Weeks turning into months, into years, into decades. Owen found himself lost in this endless loop, one he eventually realized he would never get out of. He would just have to be at peace with this being the rest of his life. The humans and vampires he met were all just one big blur in his head. Guardians and superiors, training sessions and missions, sleepless nights and nightmares. It all mixed in his head, like a cauldron of slop made up of all the memories of the past two centuries. Nothing really stood out. Nothing really mattered. He just went through the motions, waiting for a day when something would finally go wrong and a wooden stake would finally find its way through his wounded, evil heart. If immortality ever sounded appealing to him, the truth was now clear to him. Living forever meant there was no escape from his fate.
"Owen?"
The revenant flinched, barely stopping himself from turning his head. It was Morcant - he didn't recognize anyone's voice besides him. Not only that, no one else would address him by his name. He didn't visit often, so why did he come now?
"Yeah?" The fledgling muttered, not turning away from the particular patch of his wall he found himself staring off at.
"We found you a new guardian. He-"
"I don't want to meet them."
"I imagine. I also didn't want him to work with you, knowing your... Record. But... Give this one a chance. And don't you dare do anything to him," the elder vampire's voice got sharper and colder in an instant. Owen wished he could change his tone so quickly. He just sounded annoyed all the time, so he wasn't actually sure about his real range.
"I'll see. Depends on if he pisses me off or not."
Morcant continued talking, but Owen was past listening to him. His hand traveled to his neck, where he began fidgeting with his collar. A wretched thing, one they forced him into after one of the first 'incidents' with someone they wanted to turn into his guardian. Thick, warm and, of course, lined with silver. If he moved his head too much, or opened his mouth too wide, the silver lining burned through his skin. And taking it off also wasn't an option with its silver buckle. Another upside to Owen's inability to see his reflection - he didn't have to see just how stupid and pathetic he looked with it.
Once the doors closed, the revenant slumped back on his bed. Expecting the foolish human to arrive soon, he took a deep breath, before slipping into the state of invisibility. His body twitched with a cold shiver, before slumping back on the bed. If it wasn't for the slight dent in his bed, no one would be able to tell he was really there... Useful, when he really didn't want to deal with people on a particular day.
The vampire just laid there in silence, his thoughts as always far, far away. He was replaying the same scenario in his head again - one where he and Louis weren't pulled apart from one another, and they lived a happy life together. Everything sounded perfect, as long as Owen didn't start questioning again whether this was truly what the mayor of Oakhurst wanted for him... And whether he would be proud of him. Two hundred years passed, and Owen was still the same. Just as bitter, just as monstrous. Only now, his strength was useful, if hard to harness by others. If only he got a chance to follow his beloved man into death, and never have to deal with all of this... Owen would take death a thousand times over living in Blackwynn for one more day.
Eventually, the quiet creaking of the door reached him. The revenant sat up on the bed, watching the human closely. Morcant seemed particularly interested in that one... But that meant little to Owen. If the human could prove themselves to be different from the thousand of people Owen was forced to work with, then maybe. If not... Then the fledgling was faced with another sickening meal of his own making.
Chapter 3: Where a child joins the war
Summary:
Abolish learned at a young age what a monster is. He decided to use that knowledge to defend people from them.
Notes:
First of all, how is this fic at 1k hits already? It's only at chapter 2 so far! Thanks so much for all of your incredible support, you guys are awesome! I hope you're prepared for what's coming :>
Also, this chapter is so far the longest, at over 6,7k words. And to think I thought I wouldn't have enough substance to make it a full chapter...... I hope you enjoy this one, and if you have any thoughts or theories, drop them in the comments or post them on Twitter/Tumblr and tag me!
Chapter Text
At the age of just eleven, Abolish Veylocke saw what a real monster is.
The first ten years of his life were rather uneventful, but peaceful. His parents were away often for work related purposes - but whenever they returned, their love for their only son was evident. Abolish never lacked anything, nor did he ask for anything more than he already had. He was a quiet, withdrawn, but curious child, often shocking adults with just how intelligent and observant he was. Rather than joining other kids in playing outside, he'd much rather spend his days reading books or watching his parents' servants at work, learning from them as much as possible. He loved listening to long stories, told to him either by his parents or their friends. Each time they did return home, someone often accompanied them - and instead of staying in his room, Abolish liked watching them from afar and listening to stories that sounded completely made up. Something about fighting evil monsters that lived in grand mansions or dark woods... At this point, Abolish was a big boy, and he knew that such monsters weren't real.
Until one day, he witnessed one with his own eyes.
It was in the middle of the night, when he was woken up by a startling sound - a sound he never expected to hear. His parents' bloodcurdling screams, joined by the roar of something inhuman. Abolish wanted to rush out of his room, barge into his parents' bedroom and defend them from whatever jumped at them... But his body was frozen in fear. All that he did manage to do was hide in the depths of his closet, shaking in fear and covering his ears as the screaming continued. Until, quite abruptly, it went quiet. Soon, it was replaced with loud sounds of scratching, and heavy breathing. The boy leaned forward, peeking into his dark, empty room through the crack in the door. The scratching sound repeated - this time on the surface to the door to his room. Soon, they fell to the floor, broken by some unimaginable force, and the monster barged in.
Its shape was vaguely humanoid, but Abolish would never dare to call it a human. It was bent over, its long, thin arms dangling, claws scratching against the carpet. Its whole silhouette was shrouded in darkness, only a pair of bright, red eyes scanning the room. Something was dripping down its mouth, producing tiny squelching sounds when the droplets hit the floor. Was it just saliva, or blood? Abolish quickly moved back, as far away from the door as he could. When his parents' friends told him about some big, scary monsters they apparently encountered, they made it sound like they went through a big, fun adventure... But this was not fun at all. The boy was shaking from fear. Even though his lack of emotional responses was often seen as concerning, now he could barely hold back tears. Whatever it was, it just attacked his parents, and now was going to take him as well... Abolish put his hands together, just like his parents taught him, and began silently praying. What else was he supposed to do? He was just a little kid, with nowhere to run, and too paralyzed with fear to fight back. Sweat and tears dripped down his face as he began calling to the Lord his mom told him so much about. All the iconography of his local church reappeared in his head, as if all the saints came down from the heavens to take him away from this dark, stuffy closet and defend him from this monster. If they were to forsake him now, who else would save him...?
Abolish only finished praying, once the door to his closet quietly creaked open.
"Abolish...?"
The boy raised his head. At this point, the leftover tears on his cheeks almost dried - he ran out of them a long time ago. It wasn't the monster, who finally found him and would now shred him into pieces... It was a man. A tall, white-haired man, whose gentle, red eyes were looking down upon him with worry and sorrow.
"Mister Morcant...?" His young, squeaky voice broke. "Where are mom and dad...?"
"Oh, Abolish..." The man leaned down and picked up the boy into his arms. It's been years since someone held him like that; even his dad claimed that Abolish was too big now to be carried around, despite how small he was for his age. But Morcant lifted him effortlessly, and pressed him against his cold chest. "I'm so, so sorry... I wish I could've come here sooner..."
The boy pressed his face against Morcant's chest, but he was long past the point where he was able to cry. He just sat there in his arms, motionless, slowly processing what just happened. Meek sunlight peeked through the heavy curtains in his room. Deep claw marks tore the carpet to pieces, splatters of blood covering the floor. The whole room was filled with an unfamiliar, metallic scent. Abolish wrapped his narrow arms around Morcant's neck, searching for comfort in the embrace of his parents' closest friend.
"I promise, we're gonna take care of you..." The man promised. He put his cold hand on Abolish's cheek, examining him for injuries. It was a miracle that he survived this encounter, let alone unscathed... If only Reiah and Alaric had this much luck... A pool of dread filled his stomach. Yet another lives he failed to protect. But this one... He would do anything to protect this poor, innocent child. "I just need some time to arrange everything... But I'll come back for you. I promise."
Abolish just slumped against him, struggling to keep his eyes open. The long, frightening night filled him with so much dread that now, when he was finally safe, exhaustion hit him with double the force. He wanted to stay awake, go see his parents, or what was left for them, properly mourn them, quell his pain through tears... But he couldn't. Even with how fresh the wound was, any sort of emotional response couldn't break through his exceptionally stone demeanor. He was just a kid, any other kid would cry after losing his parents...
But all he could do was stay in Morcant's arms, hoping that it was all just a bad dream he would wake up from soon enough.
When Morcant dropped him off at the orphanage near the church, it took him almost a year to finally return.
Abolish barely recalled his time there. He never felt like he was truly there - rather, it was as if he was sitting inside of his own head this whole time, only watching all the children around from a distance. The nuns that took care of them didn't pay much attention to him - it was easier to be seen as an unproblematic kid. The boy spent the majority of his time in his room, consuming book after book - but he barely remembered any of them just days after. He just wanted to occupy his time, and keep a sense of normalcy.
That fateful night was still fresh on his mind, even months later. It often returned to him in his dreams - in them, he sat in his closet, watching his parents getting torn to shreds by the monster. Their screams rang in his ears, causing him to wake up in the middle of the night. At first, with a scream - then, his screaming got stuck in his throat, suffocating him instead. But he never cried. No matter how much he wanted to, to finally relieve the pain and tension from the encounter, he just couldn't. Thanks to that, the nuns and the priests quickly assumed that he just got over what happened (as far as Abolish knew, they didn't know all the details of what occurred that night).
He didn't. And he didn't know whether he would ever get over that.
Then, soon after Abolish turned twelve, Morcant returned.
The boy was taken to his mansion, in the southern parts of Blackwyn. He didn't recognize the area - before his life crumbled into dust, he only knew the surroundings of his parents' house, and the few neighboring streets. Right next to Morcant's house, a large building loomed at the edge of the forest. Morcant explained that it's a mental asylum, and that Abolish is not to get anywhere close to it.
The man tried his best to make Abolish feel at home - but it quickly became apparent to both of them that this would never truly happen. Abolish mostly stayed in his room, not keen on exploring the large, dark house. The only other place he visited was the small library on the top floor, where he stacked up on books, which he then obsessively read. That's pretty much what he did for the first few months of his stay at Morcant's house - he read, he prayed, and not much more than that. He was already a small boy, but with how little he ate, he became even scrawnier. His deep, brown eyes always looked distant and deep in his own head, almost unaware of what was happening around him. At first, Morcant wanted to intervene and try to help him - but with time, he realized that it was easier to just let him be. After all, due to his own mistake, this little boy just lost his whole family.
Which is why he waited long until he finally told him the truth.
When Abolish turned thirteen, he received a birthday gift that he would be forever grateful for. Knowledge.
That morning, Morcant led him into his office and sat him down in a big, comfy armchair. Two cups of tea awaited both of them, the curtains were pulled over the window to not let anyone interrupt him. Morcant was clearly nervous - he fidgeted with a pen in his hands, struggling to keep eye contact with Abolish. Guilt over what happened was still eating him alive. At this point, this was the only thing he could do to try and make things right...
In contrast to him, Abolish kept eye contact a little too well. His eyes still appeared distant and clouded, but his stare was glued to the man's face, reading all the microexpressions that twisted his face and pulled on his soul. Whatever he was supposed to tell him, Abolish could tell that it would be important.
He didn't, however, expect to hear what he was told.
Morcant began by briefly telling Abolish about how he met his parents. Dies Rationis - that was a phrase he recalled, it was sometimes mentioned by their friends. It meant Day of reckoning - one of many lines he remembered from the many scriptures he attended with his parents. Apparently, it meant something more... It was a secret organization, uniting humans and vampires. Humans, like Reiah and Alaric. And vampires, like Morcant himself.
The boy didn't flinch at the revelation that his caretaker was not, in fact, human. True, his appearance was a little out of the ordinary, with his white hair, red eyes, pale, greyish skin, and surprisingly sharp teeth - but he never showed any hostility towards Abolish. He was the last person the boy could trust... In his eyes, at the very least, he definitely wasn't a monster.
Then, Morcant explained everything else.
The creature that attacked his parents was also a vampire - an evil vampire. According to him, and contrary to what many people apparently believed, not all vampires were inherently bad - and Dies Rationis helped the ones that were willing to live peacefully with the humans. They protected them from people that wished harm on them and helped them survive in a society that wouldn't accommodate their needs. At the same time, they went after vampires that were a danger to humans and brought them to justice - usually by killing them. Abolish didn't even ask whether that was the fate that befell the monster that took his parents away from him. At that moment, his mind was occupied with something else. It was the first time in almost two years where his mind was completely present and in the moment, and he knew exactly what he was being told about. He felt the soft, warm armchair under his body, the warmth of tea spreading through his chest. The soft, matter-of-face voice of Morcant, which sometimes broke when too many emotions threatened to take over him. It was a bit embarrassing to Abolish, seeing how the vampire was sometimes overcome by his own regrets and grief... Not because he thought Morcant didn't deserve to feel this, not at all. Moreso, because Abolish wished he could also let out his pain and anguish like this.
But he couldn't. All of it was stuck deep inside, with no hopes of getting out anytime soon.
"I really wish I could spare you all this knowledge..." The vampire sighed. He finished his tea, before putting the cup on the coffee table between them. "You deserve to have a normal life after all that happened to you. For months, I fought with myself, pondering whether you should know the truth, or whether I should keep you away from this... But I decided that it's better that you learn from me, rather than if you found out by yourself, in more dire circumstances. However..." He paused for a second, taking a deep breath to recompose himself. "I promise that Dies Rationis will forever keep you in our protection, so that something like this will never happen to you again."
Abolish just nodded. The reassurance was nice, sure... But there was something else that clouded his mind at this moment. A question, one he wouldn't imagine himself asking just last evening.
"How do I join this organization?"
Morcant never expected this level of eagerness from Abolish. The idea of telling him the truth was already unnerving as it was - what if he wanted to move out as soon as possible, knowing that his caretaker shared species with the very thing that ended his family? At best, he thought that Abolish would just silently accept the reality and try to proceed as if nothing ever happened, trying to ignore the existence of vampires. But he asked to join the organization... Was it just a sign of childish naivety? Did he not grasp the full reality of his situation? Out of everyone, Morcant wouldn't imagine Abolish being like that - for a thirteen year old, he was very emotionally mature and grasped reality much better than most children his age. Then what was it? Belief that he could avenge his parents? Lack of proper direction in his life, following such a tragic incident? The vampire avoided the topic for a while, hoping that Abolish's conviction would fade as quickly as it appeared. However, the boy kept asking him every now and then, clearly ready to deepen his understanding about vampires. Every time he did, Morcant was haunted by the same question - what would his parents do? Would Alaric want his son to become essentially a soldier, protecting humanity and slaying vampires? Would Reiah worry about her precious boy not returning home one day? Or would they want their child to follow in their footsteps? It would be so much better if they were around, to tell Morcant what to do...
But they weren't. And he had to make this decision for himself, and for Abolish.
Eventually, Mocant decided to begin by teaching his young subordinate all that he knew about vampires. Of course, they couldn't accept such a young boy into their ranks just yet. Deep inside, Morcant hoped that educating Abolish would lead to him realizing just how dangerous this line of work was, and abandoning his desire... Quite quickly, he realized that his lessons were giving the very opposite effect.
Abolish grasped the knowledge quickly, and was constantly hungry to learn more. And the more he knew, the more he seemed convinced that this was what he wanted. Even he wasn't quite sure what his motivation was. In a way, he wanted to see into the world his parents lived in, and the world that ultimately led to his demise. In a way, he wanted to fulfill his religious duty of getting rid of the evil in this world and making it safe. In a way, he didn't really know what to do with himself. Sure, he was just a young boy, but what happened to him that fateful night made him believe that there was nothing better left for him. How could he go on, when everything he knew for most of his life was violently ripped away from him? So, every day that Morcant was home, he would come into his office and listen to his stories about vampires, their history, culture and abilities.
And then, once he turned fourteen, his theory began getting supplemented with practice.
Morcant was a bit worried about teaching Abolish how to fight. He was on the smaller side, and short for his age - the first time he was handed a silver sword, just for practice, he almost couldn't lift it. However, any strength that he lacked, he more than made up for it with his intelligence, agility and dexterity. In the garden of his mansion, the vampire patiently taught him how to wield many different weapons. First, he began with simple training staff, which they eventually replaced for the real deal. Over several months, Abolish became quite proficient with using a rapier, a longsword, a chain, a crossbow and a musket. His fighting style impressed Morcant - he was fast, precise and surprisingly elegant. Each day, after eating breakfast, he would go into the weapon and train - usually with his superior, but also alone, if the vampire was particularly busy that day. His quiet footsteps carried around the garden as he fought off imaginary foes, wielding his weapon of choice with grace one wouldn't expect from such a young child. And each day, Morcant could feel his cold, unbeating heart swelling with pride.
Which didn't, of course, mean that his training went with no hiccups.
One winter afternoon, Morcant had to pull the boy from the freezing cold after he pushed his training for far too long. If he was a vampire, it would be no problem - but such a young human kid risked catching a cold, or worse... The vampire took away his rapier, grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into their warm kitchen.
"I know you wanna keep training, Abolish, but it's too cold now! And the snow... You can do it in the library, if you want to." The vampire gently scolded him, while preparing hot tea for him. He turned around, watching as Abolish sat on the kitchen bench, his cheeks and the tip of his nose red from the cold. "You've been doing great, but you can't push yourself too hard..."
"Lord Morcant?" The boy eventually asked, his voice a bit raspy after breathing in cold, dry air for a few hours. "Do you think... Do you think mom and dad would be proud of me? That I'm doing what they did, and killing vampires like they did...?"
"Oh, Abolish..."
Morcant stepped away from the stove and crouched in front of the bench. He carefully picked up the boy's hands on his own. They were so tiny and cold, calloused from extensive training in the recent months... And the doubt in Abolish's eyes was breaking his heart. If he only could, he would give the world to this sweet, hardworking child... Even if he himself wasn't certain what Reiah and Alaric would think, he had to reassure Abolish, at all cost.
"They would be so proud of you..." Morcant answered gently, stroking the boy's hands. "I promise you that. Your parents did so much good... They defended good humans and vampires, and fought against the bad... They saved so many lives..."
"I just..." Abolish sniffled for a second. As always, no tears came to his eyes. "Any time I try to think of a vampire, I think about that... Monster, that took them away... Can vampires really be good...?"
"Not all vampires are bad, Abolish... Just like not all humans are good. And it's not as easy as them just being born good or bad... It's a choice that you have to make every day." Morcant's hand traveled to Abolish's hair, which he carefully stroked. "Many people and vampires choose to be bad, because it's easier... Not everyone has the strength to choose doing good every day."
"And what about people who do both...?"
"Those need help, and guidance... They aren't lost yet. And we can help them. You could help them, one day." Morcant paused for a second, gently squeezing Abolish's small hand. "Your training is just a part of what you will need... You need it to get rid of the evil in the world, sure. But you also need it to defend yourself, and people who need it. I don't want you to risk your life, but if that's a choice you decide to make in the end... You could save so many people, just like your mom and dad..."
"Am I good like them, lord Morcant...?" Abolish asked quietly.
The vampire paused for a second. Of course he was, he was the sweetest, kindest kid he's ever met... And yet, for some reason, the words did not want to come out of his mouth. Somewhere deep down, he still hoped that Abolish would give up on his dream to join the organization, and that he would get a chance at a normal, safe life... But clearly, he already made his choice. And all Morcant could do was support him.
"Yes, Abolish. You're very, very good."
Abolish went quiet after that. He wanted to say something, thank Morcant, reassure him just like he did every time... He could tell that the vampire didn't have the easiest time raising him. The boy tried his best to not cause any trouble and stay out of his way, to not be much of a problem for him. Still, he felt so grateful for all that lord Morcant did for him. If only he could make sure that he was proud of him as well...
At fifteen, Morcant took Abolish to the Dies Rationis facility in Blackwyn.
Turns out, the place on the other side of the street that he claimed to be a mental asylum, wasn't actually that. They entered through some hidden back entrance, and quickly came upon many people Abolish didn't recognize. A lot of them looked just like Morcant - tall, regal, with red eyes and white hair and pale skin. The boy squeezed his superior's hand a little tighter, trying to hide just how uncertain he felt around so many creatures of the night. Morcant's words rang in his ears. They were the good vampires, they wouldn't hurt him... As much as it didn't look like that, he could treat this place like home.
"Every human and vampire that you see here is a friend," the elder vampire reassured him, as if he just read Abolish's mind. Or maybe he just felt the weak squeeze on his hand, and picked up on what it meant. "You can trust all of them as much as you can trust me. If you ever need support, and I'm not around, they will help you."
Suddenly, the boy flinched at a loud bang that went off at the end of the corridor. A group of people looked like they were holding something or someone back, silver flashed in their hands. Abolish froze in place when he heard furious hissing and growling. He barely managed to spot the source of the ruckus - a feral looking, scarred vampire, who aimed their claws and fangs at the people trying to apprehend them. Their growling and hissing sounded inhuman, not even like a sound a vampire could make. Their glowing, red eyes turned to Abolish, staring at him for just a second... Making everything come back to him in an instant. And yet, it wasn't the same.
The boy just watched in silence as humans and vampires alike managed to muzzle them, then dragged them into one of the neighboring rooms.
"Well, maybe aside from that one..." Morcant sighed.
"Who is that...?"
"It's okay, Abolish. You don't have to worry about that one... I will make sure he's not let anywhere near you."
Abolish furrowed his brows, but ultimately didn't comment. Was that another one of those evil, monstrous vampires that the organization disposed of? It did look dangerous and feral, and letting it loose would probably cause a disaster, and yet... Abolish didn't feel the same way he did, when he saw the beast that killed his parents. There was something... Desperate about how this one acted. As if he wanted to get away from the organization members. As if they weren't just mad, but also... Scared.
Despite his better judgement, advising him to put the encounter behind himself, Abolish couldn't stop thinking about the encounter. It was always somewhere in the back of his mind, close to the memory of the night when everything changed. Quickly, the boy found his way around the facility, and got to know a lot of the members, both vampires and humans. They were very friendly, if a bit surprised by how young Abolish was. Morcant made it clear - his subordinate wouldn't be let out on missions until he was at least sixteen, and even then, he would only be allowed on low-stakes escapades. Because of that, Abolish spent a lot of time in the common areas, reading or listening to other people talk about their adventures. He even found new sparring partners - both humans and vampires went easy on him at first, but quickly found that the young disciple was quite gifted, even despite his young age. Finally, a place where Abolish didn't feel like a bother... The only thing that made him somewhat uncomfortable was when others brought up his parents. Their fate was no mystery to them - the story of the Veylocke family being torn apart by some wild revenant that flew under everyone's radar was well known among the ranks of Dies Rationis. If only that didn't make them act so patronizing towards him...
Still, pretty quickly, Abolish asked him to move into the facility permanently. He was given a small, but cosy room, and was allowed in most of the same rooms that the other organization members were permitted. He didn't get any special privileges from Morcant - he didn't want any. He just wanted to be equal with everyone else, even despite his lack of experience, and do good. Every now and then, he tried asking about the strange, feral vampire he saw when he first walked into the facility - but most people either didn't know what he was talking about, or weren't keen on discussing that topic. It was like a silent secret that everyone knew about, but no one wanted to discuss... And that only made Abolish feel more intrigued.
He already knew what a monster was. And every time someone did tell him about this stranger and called them a monster, Abolish couldn't help but roll his eyes. No, it couldn't just be that... There was something more to it, he knew that for sure. And he was about to do anything to find out the truth.
Soon after turning sixteen, Abolish was sent out on his first mission.
Just like Morcant said, it was a calm, low-stakes mission, with no possibility of anything going wrong. He was tasked, together with a few humans and vampires, with smuggling supplies to a group of vampires living in the Capital. And, just as expected, it went perfectly well - Abolish's perfect poker face aided in hiding any suspicion about them, when they were stopped in the middle of the way by the military and searched. The whole team was impressed with his ability to keep cold blood and talk his way out of any situation, and soon, he was taken on more and more simple missions. All the while, Abolish continued his studies about all things holy and unholy, as well as his training. Even with his young age, he was in high regards of Dies Rationis' leaders. Morcant couldn't possibly be more proud of him. His subordinate was seen as pretty much a prodigy, one of their most gifted young soldiers. Many applauded his superior for convincing him to join - not many knew that this decision was Abolish's alone.
But under his calm, peaceful and impassive demeanor, this young man knew how to get what he wanted.
One day, when Morcant was out on his own mission, Abolish snuck into his office. It didn't appear suspicious to anyone - their close bond was no secret to the organization members, so most people thought that he did it with the elder vampire's explicit permission. At the same time, Abolish rationalized that Morcant will either not find out, or he will learn to be okay with it eventually.
His office was dark, the only window covered with a thick curtain. Understandably, he didn't want any pesky sunlight in, attacking him while he attempted to work. Abolish grew accustomed to the dark in recent years, but even so, he snuck in a lamp, which he clutched tightly in his hand. After raising it, a wave of warm light illuminated the room. His big, heavy desk stood in the middle of the room, making him sit with his back to the window. On both sides of the desk stood two tall file cabinets, filled with tens of books and hundreds of documents. It was the latter that Abolish was after. He approached one of the cabinets, looking across the dozens upon dozens of cardboard files, ordered alphabetically. Morcant already explained the system to him - files of humans were put in brown cases, while vampires were put in crimson. He navigated around the narrow section starting with the letter V, murmuring his family name under his breath.
There was only one document file under the last name Veylocke, however.
"Where did they move them..." The young man muttered, before putting his own file on the desk and opening it.
In contrast to other cases, his was still rather fresh and thin. It only consisted of a general file and a few notes, annotating his latest missions. Abolish held the lamp over the documents, the flickering flame making the shadows dance on the walls.
Name: Abolish R. Veylocke, pseudonym: "Fledgling"
Date of birth: [REDACTED]
Residency: Blackwyn facility
Associates: Reiah "Foxglove" Veylocke (mother) (deceased; file moved to archives); Alaric "Exodus" Veylocke (father) (deceased; file moved to archives); Morcant "Willow" Thornvale (direct superior)-
"Right, they're in the archives... Idiot..." Abolish murmured to himself, before closing the case and putting it back in the cabinet. He was a little bit curious as to what Morcant, who was in charge of all the documents, wrote about him already... But that would waste too much time. For that, he could always return and just ask.
However, his curiosity still won him over, when he decided to pull out Morcant's file. A thick, damaged case, taking up a serious part of the shelf dedicated to the letter T. Abolish dropped it on the desk, then began scanning through the text.
Name: Morcant S. Thornvale, pseudonym: "Willow"
Date of birth: [REDACTED]
Residency: Blackwyn facility (currently), Oakhurst facility (past), Capital facility (past)
Associates: [REDACTED], Louis "Rosehip" G. (deceased; file moved to archives); Owen "Weapon" [REDACTED] (direct subordinate); Abolish "Fledgling" Veylocke (direct subordinate); [REDACTED]
Position: Head of Supply, Head of Recruitment, Head of [REDACTED], Head of [REDACTED]
Abolish continued reading for a moment, before a sudden epiphany suddenly hit him and made him go back a couple of lines.
"Owen...?"
He squinted, looking down at the unfamiliar name. He hasn't met anyone of this name yet. And the pseudonym... Morcant explained a little bit about them in the past. According to him, they were chosen in case of security breach, but they always had a reason to be chosen for a specific person. Abolish fully understood his pseudonym - some people in the organization called him that, since he was almost like a baby vampire, taken in by a renowned sire like Morcant. But "weapon"...? That sounded... Ominous. And a bit too direct. But his last name was redacted... That only refueled Abolish's curiosity.
After putting the file back on the shelf, the young man began looking for the case of this Owen individual. It was going to prove hard, since he didn't know anything more about him... Just his name and pseudonym. Was that the same man he saw in the hall way back when, that piqued his intrigue so much? At this point, he just had to find out more...
Until suddenly, Abolish came upon a file case that looked out of the ordinary.
It was colored neither the human brown, or the vampire crimson. Instead, it was bright red, as if warning anyone who wanted to open it and read the contents. It was stuck randomly between other files, so high that Abolish struggled to reach it. Eventually, after climbing on top of the lower shelf, he managed to retrieve it and placed it on the desk, before taking a seat in Morcant's big chair.
Name: Owen, pseudonym: Weapon
Date of birth: Unknown
Residency: Blackwyn facility (currently), Oakhurst (past)
Associates: Louis "Rosehip" G. (sire) (deceased; file moved to archives); Morcant "Willow" Thornvale (direct superior, temporary guardian); [REDACTED]
Position: doesn't apply
Danger level: Extreme
"Danger level...?" Abolish murmured. He hasn't seen it in any other file he's ever seen... He decided to continue reading, even though the idea of sharing the facility with someone like that was making his skin crawl.
Background: Found in Oakhurst after the massacre on 9/9/1XXX, admitted to being the force standing behind it. Nothing more is known about its past, other than supposed connection with his sire Louis, who turned it at the age of roughly twenty five. Possible past history of heavy illness, explaining the numerous scars on its body.
Special precautions: A feral, uncooperative revenant. Extremely dangerous to handle. Consult "Willow" for handling instructions. Specific protocols, required to keep it docile, attached to the file. No permanent guardian has been assigned yet; files of past guardians can be found in the archive. Should not be trusted under any circumstances.
"Huh..." Abolish hummed, before digging deeper into the file. Inside, he found pages with the supposed protocols, each with tens or hundreds of updates. He skimmed through some of them, each making him feel more unnerved.
File update #4: Latest recipe of the brew caused a fever and violent sickness. Recipe needs refinement.
File update #41: Training needs to be moved back outside. Last attempt at training inside resulted in five injuries.
File update #298: Medical case updated. Examination is now required to check the weapon's weight and not allow it to go over 117 pounds.
File update #356: Do not attempt to cut the weapon's hair. Resulted in two victims and seven injured.
File update #480: New safety protocol requires the weapon to wear a silver-lined collar at all times. Loosening or taking it off without willow' permission is strictly forbidden.
"That's..." Abolish paused for a second. There were hundreds, almost a thousand updates like these, some appeared as recent as a few days old. It really did feel as if the organization was keeping a dangerous creature on their turf, to... What, exactly? Experiment on him? He didn't seem fit to be sent on mission, if something as simple as training or cutting his hair resulted in so many casualties... But at the same time, the young man couldn't stop thinking about what he saw that day, in the corridor. Did he just want to believe that Owen looked scared? Was he truly a monster, as his own files suggested? Or was there something else to it? As much as he trusted people of Dies Rationis, he was aware that they could be quite ruthless... Especially the vampires.
Maybe it was his young naivety speaking. But at that moment, he needed to meet this individual, and find out for himself.
"Could I be assigned as the new guardian for the Weapon?"
Morcant at first froze at the question. Abolish came to his office often, but rarely to ask for something - he just enjoyed sitting in his superior's big armchair and reading. But the confidence with which he asked it... The vampire slowly raised his eyes up from the documents he was just reading.
"You what...?"
"I heard some people talk about this vampire that needed a guardian. I want to try whether I could get him to trust me-"
"No, no no no, absolutely not, Abolish," Morcant responded, his voice sharp and stern. "Owen is lethally dangerous, I'm not having you work with-"
"His name is Owen?"
"I-" Morcant sighed, before looking back at Abolish. This young man just turned seventeen, but his expertise and confidence went far beyond his years. But he wasn't experienced enough to handle someone like Owen, was he? The revenant's last guardian was just lost a few days earlier, during a supposedly low-stakes mission. Owen claimed they 'accidentally' fell out of a window, and Morcant didn't press on, despite heavily suspecting that he did have something to do with it after all. And the idea of Abolish wanting to even attempt to take their place... "No, Abolish, I will not assign you to work with him. Owen is dangerous. He won't care that you're just a kid..."
"I'm not just a kid, sir," Abolish fought back. "I haven't failed a mission yet. I want to prove myself further."
"You don't have to prove anything, Abolish...!"
"Let me at least try," the young man's voice got a bit softer and more pleading. "I just want to talk to him once. If he attacks me, or something, I'll never ask again. Please, sir..."
Morcant sighed. Was this what having a child was like? Granted, a normal kid would ask their parents for a toy or a treat, not to meet with Dies Rationis' most dangerous member... But knowing Abolish for as long as he had, the elder vampire should've expected something like that. Not to mention, he was fairly certain that he learned about Owen from some other way, rather than just word of mouth. People in the Blackwyn facility didn't like discussing Owen's existence. They treated him pretty much like necessary evil, enforced by Morcant's ambition.
"...I will allow you to talk to him," he eventually responded. "But you will be given a weapon. And I will stand guard, just in case he lashes out."
"Fine..." Abolish sighed, as if he was the one dictating the terms. Morcant squinted. He didn't mind his prized pupil being confident... But he had to make sure that his confidence wouldn't turn into pride.
The very next day, they met up under the door to Owen's room. Immediately, Abolish noticed all the wear and tear left by just how much the revenant fought back. Old bloodstains on the doorframe served as a warning. Abolish patiently waiting for his superior to enter first and talk with Owen. His sight dropped down to the wooden stake in his hands. Morcant wasn't joking when he said that Abolish would be armed... But he wasn't about to use it, unless it was absolutely necessary. He felt unnerved by the revenant, but as far as he could tell (though naming his feelings never came easy to him), he did not fear Owen. And even if he did attack and kill him... Well, at least Abolish would see his parents again.
"He was just fed, so he should be calm..." Morcant said as soon as he left the room. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, only getting Abolish's focused stare as an answer. "Okay... You have half an hour. If you don't come out by then, or if I hear something going wrong, I'm coming in. Okay?"
"Will you listen in on our conversation?"
"Of course!" Morcant rolled his eyes. "Just... Be careful. Okay?"
Abolish approached the door. He stalled for a second, his fingers grazing the heavy, silver doorknob. For some unexplainable reason, he could feel that whoever awaited behind the door was connected to him... And he needed to finally figure out what that connection was. The young man took a deep breath, then pushed the door open and entered the room.
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