Sanguinary Desires - C2 P4Sanguinary Desires - C2 P4 by RageBetweenTheSheets
Alexi found himself thinking of his life before he was turned which was someplace he didn't allow himself to go often. He remembered the day he had gotten the news that his parents were killed in a fire. Nikolai, his younger brother and he had been out riding, their stallions doing their best to show each other up. Mother and father had been vacationing at their retreat just outside of Moscow while he and Nikolai kept watch over the palace in St. Petersburg. The voice on the other end of the phone was cool and calm. They explained his parents had been killed and wanted to know what to do with the bodies. Alexi was numb. He knew immediately that it was retaliation from the mob for when he had murdered the three men that shamed his cousin, Dmitry. It was unforgivable. When the elder brother had informed the younger one of their parents' fate, he had looked into Alexi's eyes with such hurt and hate. He vowed then never to see him again and left that night, never telling his older brother
At last, a peek at what I've been working so hard on. This is still in rough form, but I felt you had waited long enough. Thank you for your patience. I apologize for posting something not completely refined yet. I'm so self-conscious about it. Be gentle with me, friends. I hope you enjoy.
The first six years of Finn’s life were, for the most part, wonderful. His mother, Eileen, was a beautiful and adoring woman whose only goal in life was to make him feel adored; and he did. She had given him the name ‘Kael’ for two reasons: one, as a reminder that she would always be faithful in her devotion to him; two, in hopes he would have that characteristic in himself one day. It was something she valued even though she knew the dangers that came with it. Even though he was young, one of his favorite memories of his mum was how she would keep a nightlight on for him every night, because she knew how frightened he was of the dark. It was a small, but caring gesture that was not lost even on a young boy. Another fond memory was how she would cradle him in her arms during storms and sing Gaelic lullabies softly in hopes of calming his anxiety. It was not all easy going for them, however. Her parents were cruel and never tried to hide the fact that they hated that she had a child out of wedlock. The father’s name had never been revealed and would die with Eileen.
They were very strict in their religious beliefs, so when their daughter became pregnant it brought them great shame and with that a growing hatred for the babe growing in her belly. He was not tolerated at the table with them, which was a blessing more than a curse, because they spent the entirety of it berating Eileen and reminding her of how her life was now as worthless as she was. Even though their words wounded her deeply, she never let on to Finn that she was falling apart. Their favorite place to visit was Ballygally Castle. She would walk the castle with her blond headed boy, filling his head with stories of knights and dragons. It was their escape from the hell her parents had created for them at home. When it was just she and Finn, Eileen was happy. She wished his father had kept his promise to take her away on the ship he worked on, but she was just a girl of 16 when Finn was born.
One morning when Finn was just six years old, she stole him away from school and the horrors of their home-life. More than anything she wanted to run away with him and leave the pain behind. All she needed was him, nobody else mattered. Had her parents known she kept him out of school for the day, they would have had both their heads. She did not care because by this point she was doing all she could to keep her head above the water. If she did not get away with him, Eileen knew she would never make it. So they left. As they boarded a train to take them to the ferry that would deliver them to Scotland and a whole new life. She had no idea how they would survive on the little she had scraped together, but it had to work. Finn couldn’t help but notice the way she kept looking behind them as if she thought they were being followed. Each time he asked her if everything was okay, she simply smiled and nodded saying, “Aye, a thaisce (my treasure). No worries for you.” She held his hand tightly as if she was afraid to let it go. “Mam, where are we going?” Finn questioned, knowing deep within him that something was wrong. She leaned down, kissed the top of his head and then walked with him to a stand that sold sweets. “Here, Finn. What would you like while we wait, love?” She asked, pressing a cool sterling pound coin into the palm of his small hand. Tentatively he reached forward to pick up a bar of chocolate, his favorite, anticipating how lovely the rich confection would feel as it melted on his tongue. With a smile he handed the silver piece to the pretty young woman manning the stand.
Eileen sat with him on a bench as he ate his candy, anxiously checking her watch every few minutes. She could not fight the feeling their time together was growing short, so she pulled the perplexed lad into her lap. “Listen to me, my darling. We are running from Gran and your Grandfather. In Scotland we will be free, do you understand? It will just be us and we will be so happy. Would you like that, my love?”
Being six, he did not know how to process all his mam was saying to him, but he nodded, seeing she had more to say.
“I love you with all of my heart, Finn. You’re everything I could ever need to make me happy and you do.. so much. I will always love you no matter what and I will always be with you no matter where life’s road may take you,” she said, trying not to cry. Whenever she spoke of her love for her son, she got choked up. He looked frightened now, so she smiled widely and took his hand. “They have castles for us to explore in Scotland - ones you have never seen. Do you think we will spot any dragons?” The change in her demeanor set Finn’s mind at ease. They sat happily chatting about the different kinds of dragons they could see, completely forgetting their worries. Only five minutes remained and it appeared they would make a clean break from the turmoil that had been dragging them down for so many years. Finn rested his head in his mother’s lap as she toyed with his hair. She often did this to soothe him during storms or any time he was afraid.
I never do these, but how could I say no to my buddy, Leo? I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into who I am. If I tagged you and you don't feel like doing this, it's okay. No worries. Oh, and if this looks all jacked up it's because I copied and pasted from a document, so sorry about that. Ignore how weird it looks.
I was tagged by my Foxy friend
My version of the rules:
Read these because I had to think really hard about them.
Each of you jokers needs to share ten, count 'em TEN, things about yourself.
Choose ten people to tag and put their icons in your journal. Oh, did I mention the journal?
The journal! Post a journal with rules, the ten things about you, and the icons of the lovely people you are tagging to do this next.
OH! Answer the questions directed towards you then make up ten more for the people you are tagging in your journal.
For the love of GOD, do not make me do this again.
You'll probably need copious amounts of coffee, so put the pot on now. -waits-
Questions? You can message me or comment this here journal.
My answers to Leo's questions:
If your art was on any product or package, what would you like it to be?
Hmm..my art is writing, so maybe a cd or album, Linear notes would be kind of cool.
Are any of your pictures done from your nightmares? Which ones? Oh? Why not?
Some of the things that happen in my story are inspired by dreams I've had, yes. I've dreamed of Alexi's castle and of how deeply tormented his soul is. I find I'm inspired by the dark haunting images of dreams. Beautiful things can come from them.
Do you feel you are arting to the best of your ability and reaching for the top, or do you think you are holding something back?
This is a very good question, because I ask myself this on a regular basis. I feel as though I always work my hardest to write something I can be proud of, but it's not a stagnant thing. Writing, like visual arts, has to change and develop over time, so I never want to get too comfortable with it. I have to keep striving to improve. -nods-
Is there another era you'd rather live in than this one? Which one?
I would like to see what life was like during the Middle Ages, I think. Not sure I'd want to live there, though. It'd be cool to do like a Bill and Ted thing, and time hop. Lol
What is your most beloved junk-food? Is it connected with a happy memory? Don't tell me you don't eat junk food! Lying is bad
I love cupcakes so much, but also salt and vinegar chips. Not together, though. Those are not really connected to anything except my stomach. I do have wonderful memories of the delicious raisin pie my grandmother used to make. I haven't had it since she passed away, but I can still smell it cooking in the small kitchen on her farm
Do you work a job? Do you feel like it came along and ate up all your time? Do you want to stab that job?
Honey, I work TWO jobs. They certainly do eat up all my time. Days off are practically non-existent, so I'm a tired guy a lot. One job is teaching, and every time my kids tell me they don't like to read I want to scream.
Do you admire any artists from a hundred years ago or longer? Who? Why? What? Tell me!
I really like Brugel, for some odd reason. I think his stuff is kind of neat. I don't know exactly what it is that I love so much about it, but my dad is the one that showed his work to me. Maybe it's a little sentimental. I like this one: classconnection.s3.amazonaws.c…
You are mega-special, aren't you? What? That's a good thing!
YES I AM!!!!
Do you have any big ambitious projects coming up? Tell me about them! Oh, it's a secret?
It's no secret. I'm in the process of writing my first novel. Of course with my lack of spare time, it's taking a bit longer than I'd like.
Who is your favorite detective? Real or fictitious is okay. What do you mean you don't dig detectives?
Inspector Clouseau (Pink Panther movies)
Tagging: (Only do this if you want to. I'll still love you if you don't)
Questions for my pals:
What is a trait you admire in people?
If you had only 25, what would you spend it on?
What's you biggest guilty pleasure?
Will you still love me after this?
If you could have any animal for a pet, which would you choose?
What's your biggest pet peeve (What annoys you)?
You're having a really bad day, what makes you smile?
What is currently your favorite song?
What are your thoughts on censorship with regards to the arts?
Who is your favorite fictional character and why?