Deadly Nights

Calamitous Desolation
By: Akiko
Character Profile: Drake Shadowheart

Note: Scythe © to Sirrah; all other character & story © myself. Do not take any of these characters without permission.

Chapter I: It Starts

How everything went so wrong so fast I still can’t figure out. Though I do know who was responsible. Thomas. One man who took away from me my whole family; he took my mother and my father. You’d think he’d stop there, but you’d be thinking wrong. He then proceeded to take away my second family away from me as well; Zack and Ashinta, the two people who meant the world, and very much more, to me. It took me 12 years to figure this out, but I’m unable to take full credit for that discovery. Unfortunately for those around me, I was unable to find out in enough time to save them; to save Zack and Ashinta.

I’m glad now that I saved my money from all my years of working with Zack, and I’m grateful my father loved me enough to put money into a savings account for myself. My father. He had a decent job, I can’t say exactly what it was, but he brought in enough money for us to live a decent and happy life in our home; I had everything I wanted, until I was 5 years old, but we’ll get there. My father put money away into a savings account for me since before I was born; I never knew until after everyone’s deaths. With the money I had I was able to give, Zack and Ashinta at least, a decent burial. They’re buried in a graveyard by a small, yet very beautiful, lake in a desolate area. It’s a shame though, I never knew Zack’s last name, or Ashinta’s for that matter; so, when they asked what I wanted for a last name I didn’t hesitate in saying Shadowheart, my last name. I did consider them my family, after all.

I visit their graves almost every night now, when I go out to feed, that is. I was so close and so very eager to lose my life that same night of their deaths, Zack and Ashinta’s; that is, if I hadn’t been for him. Most people would think I’d be talking about God or some other religious figure, but I’m not. Actually he’s nowhere near a religious figure; he hates religion. He’s the very opposite of any figure holy you could think of, he can be like the devil. He’s my lord, my sire, and above all, he’s my lover. Scythe. That’s his name, the one he goes by now anyways; I know his real name, he trusts me enough to let me know it, but I’m not allowed to let anyone know, he’s too paranoid. But after listening to him talk about his past, it’s understandable.

Yes, my lord and my sire. If you’re wondering what I mean by that, I mean he sired me. I’m dead; well I’m the living dead, technically. He is as well, though he’s been the living dead longer than I have. Wondering how I can be writing this if I’m supposedly the living dead? When I say that I mean I’m a vampire, and my lord is as well, he has to be in able to sire me. I’ve only been a vampire for little over a year now and I can’t even say how long my lord has been one, he doesn’t remember much from when he was human. Shows you how old he really is, I guess. He use to live in England and has this English accent that he covers up, he hates it even though I love hearing him talk with it. He was the lord of a house and was rather strict and cruel and when he became a vampire, I think he just got worse; I’m not too sure. He was punished for his crimes, but I can’t say how, he hates people knowing that about as much as he hates people wanting to know what his true name is. Well, he turned me into a vampire a little bit after my 18th birthday; I met him when I was 17. I’m very grateful for him, because, as I said earlier, it was him who saved my life, he’s the reason I haven’t killed myself from all the guilt I feel for everyone’s deaths. But, that meeting comes later.

Zack was the one who found me, running away from my father. Why would a child run from their father, more so when they’re only about the age of 5? Well, I had found my mother’s cold, dead body on the floor of our living room, lying in a pool of her own crimson blood. I didn’t comprehend at the time that she was dead; I just thought she was asleep or something.

I kneeled down by her limp body and placed my hands on her body, shaking her some. “Mommy?” I whispered. No response. I shook her some more and repeated myself, only a little louder this time, figuring she didn’t hear me. No response. I finally shouted. Not a sound or movement from her. I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I did the only thing I knew to do at that moment, I continued to shake her, trying to wake her up. What else was I suppose to do?

I heard a loud clank of something metal hitting the ground and jumped. My eyes pulled themselves from my mother’s body and looked at the object, unable to tell what it was, my vision had begun to blur from tears that were falling without my knowledge. I somehow knew she wasn’t going to wake up, no matter how hard I tried. I just, I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew it deep down. My eyes finally found themselves locked on my father.

“Da-Daddy…” I stuttered. “Mo-mommy won’t… she won’t wake up! Wa-Wake her, daddy,” I begged him. By this time my hands and clothes were soaked in my mother’s blood, but I didn’t notice. I was too scared and upset to notice, or I just didn’t want to. Honestly, I don’t know which it was.

He didn’t say a word; he just started to walk towards me. When he got into the good lighting of the living room I could see the blood spatter on his clothes, his hands shaking, tears on his cheeks. He was scared as well, I didn’t know why though, but when my eyes saw that blood spatter on his shirt, the blood on his face, my gaze saw the small holes in my mother’s chest. My eyes quickly fell onto the object that had hit the floor earlier. I saw the gun lying there. It hit me harder than a ton of bricks when I saw that. I had already known she was dead, and wasn’t waking up, but seeing that gun, it linked it all together for me and the reality of the situation hit me, harder than I wanted it to.

I looked back at him, and he was whispering how she wouldn’t wake up, no matter how hard I tried, or how hard anyone tried. He was saying how she was going to sleep forever and how she was in a much better place now. I shook my head slightly. I wanted to run to him, to let him comfort me like a father was suppose to do. A better place? How could she be in a better place? What was I suppose to do without her? I remember all those questions running through my mind. Though, I understand now what he meant by a better place; she was in a place where she wasn’t going to have to suffer anymore.

“Drake,” he started. I never gave him the chance to finish; I was already on my feet and running out the front door, leaving it open behind me. I didn’t know where I was going or what I was going to do. I just had something telling me to run, and just keep running. So, I listened to whatever it was that was telling me that. I don’t know how far I would’ve gotten if I hadn’t run into Zack head on, knocking the both of us to the ground, hard. He suffered most of the physical pain though. One of his arms went around my small frame, keeping me close to his body to protect me, and his other hand went out to brace his fall. I think he got hurt pretty bad from that fall, but he never showed it.

I clung to him tightly. I didn’t know him at the time, but I felt safe with him holding me like that. I buried myself into him the best I could; I wanted to be hidden. I didn’t know if my father was following me and if he was I didn’t want him to find me. I was scared he might try to get rid of me as well; I didn’t learn until later how completely wrong I was. When I learned how wrong I was about it all, I regretted it; I regretted every step away from him I took.