The Cost of Revenge

Sometimes the cost of peace is far greater than we are willing to pay. Still, you can take heart in the benefit to the many, the greater good, uneven as it may feel. Richard stayed on for a while tending to personal matters, ridding us of every major threats. He had not yet taken his exact measure of blood and when he had I knew he would never be the same. Thus began another period of peace marked by pain and loss.

I felt such deep anguish observing his interactions with his mother in the months following his mission of vengeance. He had lost a significant parts of himself, first his wife and child and then through his quest for revenge. Now he had to face that hole in himself and come to terms with what he was and what he had done.

Ngozi wanted so desperately to save her son, but in a strange way they were giving each other permission to go on, to forgive themselves. In the months that Richard stayed with us he had not reclaimed any of what he had lost but he was restored. It was amazing to see, and be reminded of, how powerful human love is.  

Richard had given his mother the greatest gift he ever could. His forgiveness, in the face of his own loss, allowed her to make amends. She was finally able to let go. She died quietly after a rare dinner shared by all of us and we found ourselves saddened but not sad. She had said goodbye to us in her own way and she was ready to move on.

Richard surprised me by staying on for three weeks after his mother passed, acknowledging that we shared this particular loss. I also felt that he didn’t blame me for his mother’s death. I was sad to see him leave. He promised he would visit, we even shared a smile. I couldn’t help but think that, at least for now, he had not lost his humanity.

Bleeding Out

It was too easy, his acquiescence, Winston’s rationale. Sure they both had the capacity for these emotions, but I was too hopeful to accept that things were already beyond reason. Now, it was all about power and control.

No sooner had the lights gone out than I felt the concert of movement around me. Winston was no longer in front of me, but he wouldn’t make it far. Richard’s blade and steel staff sang in the night air before making mortal contact with immortal flesh and cartilage.

I moved too sensing Louis close as he threw me a blade from more than a hundred yards away. He stood fending off those who were trying to make their way inside to Ngozi. I turned in time to see Richard deliver the final rites to Winston without hesitation or ceremony. It was time for me to go to work as well.

Seeing their leader fall took the fight right out of all except the most ambitious and crazed of their coven. None of them presented even a remote threat to me and as I worked my way through their ranks I couldn’t help but notice Richard, almost effortlessly, keeping pace with my body count. It was the first time I could see the effect that my blood had on his physical abilities and it was truly a wonder to behold.  

In short order a small group had wisely retreated leaving their mutilated and vanquished behind. Richard and I worked in silent unison to ensure there would be no resurrections, walking the field removing heads and hearts. It was a gruesome sight, but I found myself grateful that we were the ones still standing at the moment. Richard studied each face, still searching for his wife’s murderer.

His face was slick and sticky with sweat and tears and blood, but I was not the one who should console him. He took a deep breath and brushed the tears away, before returning to his grim task. But there were also fresh eyes on us, mourning what we lost in the battle. I turned and followed Richard’s gaze back to the porch where Ngozi was standing. Louis and a few others stood at her back with swords at the ready as she held on to the rail and wept at the sight of her son and I covered in blood, working together…

Dressing the Wound

Richard’s eyes glazed over as the lights grew closer. He became distant and detached once more as his breathing became deeper and steady. A lone figure approached down the pathway before us without any torchlight. The others stopped just on the edge of the plantation and the lone figure continued for a moment before stopping about ten yards short of us. I stepped in front of Richard and looked into his eyes.

“Richard.” I said evenly. “Listen to me. Let me talk to him first. Try to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed.”

He locked eyes with me for a moment and eventually nodded. Louis stood beside him as I walked out towards the solitary figure. Winston’s face was half bathed in the moonlight as I approached.

“So Nicholas, here we are.” He said with a sad smile. “I can’t believe this is what you wanted.”

“It isn’t.” I said evenly. “But if we don’t find some way to mediate things, this will be the final stand for many of us.”

He considered my words and then raised his hand, and then all of the lights went dark…

Vengeance

While Winston prepared his coven to respond, Richard spent his time explaining his mission of retribution to his mother while preparing his blades and steel rod for the work ahead.  Eventually he managed to quite her sobs and stop her tears. Soon she fell into a fitful sleep holding his hand. He sat with her for a few minutes more before gently prying his hand away and joining Louis and I on the porch. We stopped speaking as he approached and Louis turned to him, speaking softly.

“We are truly sorry for your loss.”

“I know.” He said, with a little smile. “But I now understand what I must do with these abilities I have. There are those who need protection from others who would prey on weakness…perceived or otherwise. Someone has to balance the scales. I have a responsibility. I am not a religious man, but I do believe in God and right and wrong. Justice in favor of injustice.” He paused.

“We believe in justice as well.” I said.

He offered a little smile before continuing.

“I am prepared to go on alone. This is my fight and it is personal, but I will not refuse your help.”

“We’re all neck high in it now.” Louis said. “It’s been coming our way for some time.”

“I’m reminded of a quote from Genghis Khan.” He said. “I am the punishment of God… If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.” His smile was gone, replaced by the look of resolve I saw hours before when he had returned.

We stood in silence, the three of us, after he was done talking. A light breeze gave some relief to the humid night and I could hear Richards heart quicken as points of light in the distance grew larger, approaching from all corners of the estate.

Blood & Pain

I was happy to see Richard alive, but sickened to see him stained by blood and shrouded in pain. We were being watched by about twenty from Winston’s coven. Richard eviscerated them. He cut them open and drove a steel rod through their beating hearts, sending them to a more permanent darkness.

There was barely a flicker in his eyes when I looked into them. Nothing humane. He seemed detached and resolute. His eyes moistened at the sight of his mother and I left them alone as she wept and tried to clean his hands.

Outside the clean up had already begun, but the remains told the story. Served heads with frozen looks of horror were the ones I found most compelling. They, who had good reason to fear only others like us, had come face to face with another who was mostly mortal and they were the one’s filled with terror.

Richard had joined a watch group comprised of vampires and mortals when he returned to the US and they had taught him a lot in the ways of detecting and eliminating my kind. Louis was acquainted with them and thought that they would be helpful with getting Richard adjusted to living with what he knew and who he was. All this was before he had his family snatched from him, when his life held more meaning. Now he was back to settle accounts with more of an understanding of were the balance of power lay and how much my kind can take from the unsuspecting. So I suppose this scene before me was unavoidable, by his hand or mine. Before long word would get back to Winston and he would have to act. If my actions signaled intent, Richards were a declaration…of war.