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Part III
Chapter 3:
Home Coming Part 1
NOTE: Violence Trigger Warning
It was early evening when Marcus came to the edge of his village. There were children playing, people walking, horses pulling carts; a site far better than what he left behind at Krodasch.
As Marcus walked through town, people waved and greeted, and noticed his friend trailing behind. The more that noticed, the more that stared. Marcus just needed to reach the other end of town. He needed to go home. He needed comfort. He needed his father.
***
Krieger lay against Kritzia on the cold floor of the cavern still in human form. Kritzia, kneeling beside him, holding him, tried to comfort her trusted creator.
“We went, as you requested, m’lady. We tried to get him to come with us.”
“Shhhh…” she replied stroking his hair away from his eyes.
“We tried but he killed…”
Krieger’s blood, now pumping with silver, was taking him to his death, slowly.
“Shhh… I know. I know.”
“m’lady?”
“Why do you think I sent you?”
“…”
“I was testing him. If you’d succeeded, that would have been fine, but had he killed you, that makes it even better. You see, Marcus is strong, brave, and he needs to be one of us. He will sire a new breed of us. You were only the next step, Krieger. He will be one of us, soon enough. But you’ve done well. It’s time to rest, Krieger.”
“but…m’lady… I- I created you. I- I helped you…” He said when he realized his position and finally coming to a conclusion, “Then you two will be happy together… It’s started.”
“I know, I know. Now, your time has come to an end,” she said as he held his head tightly against her breast, stroking his hair again, while snapping his neck with a loud crack.
Krieger’s body slumped over onto the floor, silver blood tears seeping from his eyes.
***
Marcus walked in his front door only to see three people sitting with his father at the table. Sitting at his father’s side, was Kritzia’s father, which was not uncommon, since they’ve known each other for decades and have remained close friends. What was most uncommon, were the two other people sitting at the table directly across from them, Johan Owens, and Margaretta.
“Well, I see you’ve managed to stay alive, and you’ve managed to find yourself a friend.”
Marcus looked around the room, “Not now, father. It’s going to be a big night, and I need to rest.”
Marcus climbed the creaking steps to his loft with Gideon in tow. As Marcus flopped to his seemingly comfortable bed with his adolescent wolf friend, he could hear Johan scolding Margaretta for the deed she did so many years ago with, this… farmer, in order to save his life. The words began to fade as Marcus drifted off to sleep.
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