Chapter 5.8Mature

“This is all his doing. You trust the boy, now a man. His past does not haunt him, but the people in it do. He feels no remorse for this,” the voice said.

“Who are you?” she whispered into the air.

A figure began to appear in front of her. “Who am I?” it laughed. It slowly became solid, revealing itself.

Stood before her was an abomination; its skin was rotted, falling away to reveal bones in some areas. Its head was mostly a skull, with bits of flesh still clinging to it. It had no eyes, but Beth still felt as if it were peering into her very soul, making her feel cold and empty inside.

Who am I?” it asked again, though its slack jaw didn’t move. “I, dear Beth, am your worst nightmare.”

She stumbled back, falling to the ground. “Why...?”

“I assume you want to know why I’m showing you this. Look at Zechariah’s face; see the pride in his eyes, his pleasure at these peoples’ suffering. He did this to them. This was a village once. One that wanted to wipe out the existence of the Covenant, and the Brotherhood, and all vampires. Zechariah came here to put them in their place. This was his mission. To slaughter them. The wives and children too.” The... thing sounded like it was reminiscing a happier time. It pointed to something a few feet to Beth’s right. “You see the babe? She would have grown up, married the man she had loved since she was young. They would have had children, who would have reached adulthood and continued the cycle. Life is easily shattered, a possible future stopped in its tracks.”

“Why are you showing me this...?” Beth whispered, feeling positively nauseous now.

“I am showing you this, because I want you to know several things. One does not have to be an adult to commit evil; Zechariah was only fourteen when he did this, and he knew exactly what he was doing. You also need to learn that if a person is capable of committing such an act, he is very good at hiding his past and the atrocities in it. Your mate is such a person.”

“Who are you!” she screamed suddenly.

The fire seemed to dim, as if the creature’s anger was drawing all light out of the world. There was very little left by which to see by.

It pointed a putrid finger at her, and she felt herself standing, her knees shaking as she began to rise. It stepped closer to her, towering over her, the stench of decay burnt her nostrils.

“I am Zeke,” it simply said.

The End

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