Haunted Roads

When: Night
Where: Outside of Old Town Towers
Who: Nikolaos – Narrative

Did his father really think that he could go rush off to see that bitch and someone wasn’t going to get hell for it? He thought he was sly in going off when Nikolaos wasn’t around but he wasn’t so sly as to evade every pair of eyes and ears that were instructed to watch the older demon no matter what he said. Some were loyal to Mikkos above all others. But many others knew their place and knew who to truly listen to. It wasn’t the guards getting the earful for the fuck up however. No, it was Nikolaos, and both grandfather and mother could scream worse then banshee cries.

From the woman he’d only snarled back in return that he could not be expected to watch his fathers every fucking move. She knew her place and would not seek to push him. But with the grandfathers rather harsh words it was another matter. The man was still elder to the family and Nikolaos knew any such words to him would earn swift punishment. Enjoy pain as he might there was a distinct difference between punishment and pleasure.

Through it all Nik kept gritted teeth and dark eyes were narrowed into angry slits. The other man knew that this trip to the surface was not about playing with past flames that could scarcely be called such. It was about business. And still knowing Nik was here to watch him, knowing all the family held no trust in his steps, he’d done so anyways. Putting not only himself in the path of wrath but Nikolaos. To say that Nik was displeased would be the understatement of the century.

He was furious.

Did his father even understand how disloyal it made him appear to be drawn back by that cold blooded lesser creature? To even to think to utter words of love or care towards her. If Nikolaos had his way he’d see the entire family wiped out to simply have them no longer be threat or worry. It would certainly make his life a hell of a lot easier. Of course enslaved would have its advantages as well…but scarcely was the true point of the matter. He stood no chance against them but that just barely stilled the desire to go find the woman again and tear her head from her shoulders. He’d even be kind enough to give the trophy to his father. Maybe then he’d realize the error of it all.

Yes perhaps he’d gone only to speak that there was nothing left between them. Nikolaos could think to that optimistic fashion that his father only wanted to fully close down all possible connections. Did he really believe such however? No, not truly. There were other ways to do such. Ways that would not verify the disdain that many in the family held for past actions. Ways that would not prove to Nik that his fathers focus had become...swayed.

No it was difficult to believe such things were innocent. He’d seen the way the woman’s eyes lit up at the scent of him even if her mind hadn’t yet placed the familiarity. There was something there still. Something that needed to die. They should have simply wiped their memories. There was risks in such of course but doing so to the woman wouldn’t bring about any concern towards the family now would it?

Anger was such a palpable thing for demons. A surge of emotion that rarely liked to be quenched. Nikolaos knew that calm, however, was needed for him. No other way to keep himself in check in this human world without it. But the only way to find that again was to release just a bit of that anger. Too bad for the poor girl that had been so eager for him to go home with her the night before. How quickly she had agreed to meet with him again. A foolish little thing with eyes so wide and hopeful in looking at him. She didn’t even hesitate to go somewhere private…but things didn’t go as she’d thought after that. The screams were an all together different kind.

The body was left behind for guards to deal with. The act helped, slightly, but not near enough. With lips still holding a vague sneer Nikolaos made his way through the faint shadows to his room once more to clean up and then leave again for the night. Staying indoors trapped by those walls…was not the best of ideas for the demon right now.

When: Late Night
Where: Old Town Towers
Who: Bastian and John – Narrative

One week. One week since he'd walked through that front door and back into their lives. One week of avoiding and lame excuses that he knew were wearing thin. One week of constantly debating when he should tell them..and how to tell them. One week of sneaking out late at night after helping at the bar to feed and try to find connections and information without pushing the wrong people. One week....and Bastian was exhausted by it. He wasn't the sort of man that lied to his family. He was always upfront, before it felt like they could handle anything together. But there were limits to everything and Bastian knew that telling them this...would push it.

Through the day he'd hid away in the bedroom, feigning sleep through those bright hours. Yet never was he, always was he awake, laying there, ensuring that those times Maggie came in she didn't go for the blinds or manage to let any light in. The same words spoken to Sophie long ago had been spoken to her...sensitivity to that light after so long in the dark. But the more he said it, the more that questioning showed in the eyes. Can't get used to it again if you don't try right? There was no getting used to it again.

The moment the light was gone there was relief to a degree...and at the same time only mounting frustration. He was still young, no matter the years that had passed that hunger still pulled at the mind all too often. Bastian ignored it as best he could....but it distracted him. It made his temper shorter, it made the body tense and strain show all too clearly to his features. He was certain that they thought him sick but given what he'd been through it wouldn't be any surprise would it? If anything it gave him another cover to hide behind for awhile.

Through the hours he moved. Picking at food cooked for dinner, spending time with them as much as he could. But tonight he'd escaped to his fathers for awhile. Sometimes...he just needed the breather. That moment to get away from that feeling of hiding from them in plain sight. He had...wanted to come back and have everything be the same. But it wasn't.....he wasn't.

“Looks like you got the weight of the world sitting right on your shoulders boy…” John spoke, patting Bastian on the back before taking a seat down next to him. A cigarette was offered over and Bastian took it with a nod of thanks. The old man always had some around even if he didn’t smoke anymore. Maybe preparation for when Bastian came home…maybe just as a reminder. Whatever the case Bastian wasn’t going to complain. “Got a drink to go with that cigarette?” he questioned, glancing over at the old man who just smirked and got up to his feet. “Sure thing kid.”

A moment later a glass of whiskey was placed down on the table in front of Bastian and his father took seat again, just waiting. He knew Bastian well enough to know when he had something he needed to get off his chest. It was just a waiting game at that point, letting Bastian try to get his thoughts together enough to say something. To find that…beginning point to start it all at.

“Have you ever noticed anything…strange around here? Stuff you couldn’t really explain?” Bastian questioned finally, lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag from it. “What you mean boy? There are strange people all over the place; I do run a bar you know.” Bastian nodded his head slightly, exhaling out that smoke. “Yeah…I know.” But that wasn’t the sort of strange he was talking about. “I mean beyond that sort of strange though.” John looked at him a bit oddly and Bastian shook his head. He knew this wasn’t going how he wanted it to. He wasn’t sure if any attempt to bring this up would though.

He debated just telling them all at once. But maybe if he convinced one of them before hand…it would be easier to tell the others. Telling his father…he didn’t know if it would be easier then telling Maggie and Sophie but it was a place to start. Maybe if he could accept it he’d be able to look the other two in the eyes as he told them. Maybe then he’d be able to look at his own fucking reflection again.

Bastian was silent for a moment; downing the contents of the glass and setting it roughly back down. “If I told you something do you promise to hear me out, hear it all, before saying anything?” that’s when John knew it was something painfully serious. “Of course boy, you can tell me anything.”

“Alright…” here went nothing; time to test the limits of that you can tell me anything…