My Dark Lord

French Revolution

      Hard to be safe during daylight hours when he couldn't use his dark gifts, Xander thought as his enemies sword pierced his side. Smoke filled the air making it hard for even him to see and it was so loud he had trouble hearing anything else so he had to rely on the tingling, hair raising feeling he got in his skin when an enemy got close; but by then they were already close enough to harm him. He gritted his teeth in pain as a bullet entered his flesh searing it.

      'Damnable weapons.' he thought to himself, in his days as a mortal they had not had such weapons. In his mortal days they had fought with swords, knives, axes, halberds and the like. Now they had cannons and guns and they sure hurt a hell of alot worse in his opinion.

      Grabbing the sword in his side as his enemy tried to pull it out he felt it cut into his palm, "Not today boy." he seethed before ramming his own sword straight through the man's chest. 

      He didn't relish in killing in battle...at least not anymore...before Avonlea though...before her he'd been full of bloodlust. After her death however it was only death that interested him, to watch them die slowly and painfully just like he felt he had been doing inside from the moment he could not resurrect her as a newborn vampire; she was the first he'd ever tried to make and therefore he had been too late.

      Grabbing the sword he gritted his teeth and pulled it out, then using his fingertips he dug out the bullette from before so the wound would heal; funny mortals challenging death and not even realizing it.

      "Demon, il est un demon!" someone suddenly began to shout which turned the heads of about 10 of the man's comrades. 

      "Dammit!" he seethed, this damn smoke, he'd thought no one was close enough to see him.

      They all started to slowly come towards him from every direction; he was surrounded. He debated internally if he should kill them quickly as he knew he could but then shook his head; it would only alert several more.

      He could let them 'kill' him he thought, it would get him back to Freya sooner, he let out a sigh at her thought name, "Freya." he whispered out loudly, no, he could not do that lest word were to get back to her of his 'untimely death', he could not hurt her so.

      He would have to simply hold back yet fight them skillfully he thought, save, just then a very familiar blade cut through two of the men and through the smoke stepped a sight he'd not seen since he was changed, a sight that had made him want to be the man he was today; through the ash and smoke stepped his father in full armor.

      "It seems we both were called out my son." his father called as three of the 8 remaining men charged him.

      "Father." he stated lowly then ran at the others surrounding them.

      It was like some majestic dance as he and his father fought, dodging, ducking, spinning, dipping and turning all in perfect sync; it reminded him of all the old battles he'd fought by his father's side and reminded him that his father was not all bad. Dipping down quickly he listened as his father's blade split the air above his head, then fainting to the side he stabbed his sword into a man right behind his father.

      Before he knew it they were surrounded by ten very dead men, all were in different states of death and/or dismemberment.

      Grasping his father quickly he gave him a brief hug, "How did you find me?"

      "As I always do my son, you are my only son, so I find you by intuition, mind link and well I smelt your blood shed of course." his father said then his face looked grim, "They are closing in on the Country Lords...your home is in danger my son."

      He felt his heart stop within his chest and his stomach sink as by reaction he blocked a sudden incoming sword thrust by a freshly arrived enemy.

      He watched his father parry an incoming blow himself, "Her family has already been laid to waste save for a young sister." he called as they both fought.

      "How do you know this?"

      "I thought I would pay them a visit while I was passing through only to discover a small girl holding onto two very dead parents...I assume news will reach Freya soon...that's if...if they do not reach your home first...you have taken precautions I trust?" his father questioned as he twisted and turned then dipped and shoved his sword up into a mans chest cavity blood spattering all over his snow white face and armor.

      "Francois." he stated simply as he fought with two men of his own, "I made him stay behind with Freya...he will get them to safety...I hope." he muttered then asked "What of the girl?"

      "It is Francois...we must trust him, I would not have given him the dark gift if I did not." he called from a bit further away, "I put her in a carriage to be sent to your home, it seems they had no other family." he stated with a sad tone, "I must get back to my men...if you have need of me just call to me using the power of your mind and I shall come."

      "Father. My Son." they said in unison then after sharing a look his father's presence drifted further and further away.

      "Freya." he whispered, "Be safe my love...be safe until I see you again.

      The battle seemed to rage on, night and day it seemed to him for at night he was an assassin and during the day a warrior; his mind grew weary and that he feared. 

      As the days past his mind became cloudier, and when his mind clouded he knew the true demon inside came out, he killed more brutally, more bloodily, and no longer recognized friend nor foe as the beast within roared.

      Grabbing a man by the throat he thrust his fingers through his ribcage, tearing flesh and muscle as he shattered bones and snatching out the heart he pressed it to his lips and drank deeply as several more men screamed.

      "Il est un démon! Il est un vampire! Courir! Courir!" a man shouted in alarm, rushing forward he snatched the man's head clean off his neck then dropping it he stepped on it, enjoying the popping sound that it made beneath his foot as others continued to scream.

      Finally there was red...nothing but red as he let out a loud roar...

  © Eva Henderson, 2016