Spirit (Monsters Series #3)

Chapter 10: Powerful Lineage

"Sam!" I heard Papa yell. "Hear them out, love."

"You really want to listen to a single word they say?" Dad exclaimed. "Don't you remember what Lyle did to you?"

"I remember, Sam, but I'm not going to hold it against them. Emerson is my brother, Sammy."

"Suddenly you have a brother I didn't know about? Where has he been for the last thirty-five years of your life, hmm?"

"I thought he was dead, along with Lyle. I guess they're both talented that way."

"The date of my death according to the memorial is the day my mom found out about Emerson and I." Lyle snapped. "Do you think that's a coincidence? My parents did this!"

"So, if I am correct, your parents didn't take the fact you loved another man very well, so, in order to cope with it, they...murdered you, so to speak?" Dad tried to analize. "My pawns I understand, real people are utterly peculiar."

"Dee?" Juliette whispered, trying to break my trance.

I shushed her, listening intently to the conversation unfolding.

"Remember, Samuel." Papa advised. "Ask questions."

"Alright." Dad groaned. "What's wrong with your mother?"

"Want anything specific or just in general?" Lyle inquired.

"Don't overwhelm me with boring, unnecessary details. Just describe your mother's deep emotional problems in a mere single word."

"Psychopath."

"Too general! Too cliche! Too biased! Too unaccomidating! Too uncouth! Try again!"

I let a small sigh pass my lips at Dad's pickiness. He has always been like that for as long as I can remember.

"Fine then, you know-it-all!" Lyle snapped. "Ignorant. She's ignorant."

"Ah, ignorant." Dad praised. "What a classic word, from the Latin ignorare traditionally meaning 'lacking knowledge or awareness in general; uneducated or unsophisticated' hitherto. Lately, it has come to mean unaccepting and cold. It is a nice word, though it will never be in the league of 'hitherto,' from the Middle English hinderto meaning, 'until this time.' It isn't used all too often anymore. That's what I particularly love about the latter word. You have been known to posess the former word in your own actions, Lyle Ford. Ignorant..."

"What is your deal?"

" 'Tis you that brings stress upon my weary soul! 'Tis you!"

Oh, no! I thought, knowing exactly what was happening, as it happened many time during my childhood.

I could picture Dad rubbing his temples and breathing heavily. I could picture Papa enclosing him in a loving embrace, what only he is permitted to do in this sort do inhuman situation.

"I should go in before Dad goes into sensory overload and starts rolling on the floor screaming." I exclaimed to Juliette as she nodded.

I jumped out of the cot and ran out to the living room to find Dad, you guessed it, rolling on the floor screaming. It vibrated the already flimsy construction of the isolated cabin. Papa's efforts of calming him were in vain What Papa did next when all seemed lost was an absolute miracle.

"Sleep, my Phobos." Papa's voice boomed. "Sleep and be done."

Dad was sprawled across the floor, a snore heavy on his breath. I stood in one place, frozen in awe. I had never an act such as this.

"Dion." Papa breathed when he noticed me.

"How...when...what?" I tried to state.

"I'll explain." Lyle responded. "Come here, kid."

I walked over to him hesitantly, still intimidated by his stature despite my lack of a stutter in his presence. He placed a hand on my head, and I was transported to a place similar to my own but not.

~

Lyle was sitting in a corner, a scrawny child. His face was held in a firm pout, and I soon noticed his hands and feet were strapped to his chair. I could see a single tear roll down his cheek, a soul different from the thick-muscled man I feared.

A tall woman with Lyle's blonde hair and emerald eyes glared down at him in disgust. Other than the forementioned featured, nothing connected him to the cold woman.

"Do you know what you did?" the woman asked him like a scolding teacher.

"Ye-yes, Mom." Lyle stammered as I used to.

"Would you like to share?"

"I...I didn't use my words. I used the Devil to...to invade your...mind."

Lyle's tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Now, stay still." His mother cooed. "This is all for the best, my child."

The last noises I heard in that vision were younger Lyle's tortured screams and the crack of a whip.

~

I opened my eyes, and suddenly, Lyle Ford didn't seem all that frightening anymore. He was a person that went through a lot of crap, pardon my French. I could feel the painte felt towards the memory of that hellish woman. All social convention and inhibitions failed me. I embraced the body builder with all the strength I had.

"Okay, okay, that's enough love, that's enough love." Lyle protested as the hug prolonged itself.

"Sorry." I apologized, embarrassed by my affectionate action.

"Dion, sweetheart." Papa whispered calmly to me, his voice as soothing as a violin symphony. "I am not like other people."

"I can see that!" I exclaimed.

"Who else would willingly marry that overgrown toddler?" Lyle interjected.

"You were overwhelming him!" Papa defended, his his blue grey eyes that mirrored my own for some unexplainable reason cold yet fiery.

"It's not my fault that your husband has Down's, princess."

That was when Papa snapped. I could feel the earth shake beneath my feet. Never had I seen Papa so angry.

"Emrys' wrath will rain down upon you, swine!"

I stood helplessly in one place as Papa thrusted his bulky form across the room with a single flick of the wrist. It felt excruciating just watching them go at it like wild animals. Thank goodness Emerson broke up the brawl before it got out of hand.

"Stop the violence!" He screeched.

Papa snapped out of whatever trance he was in, breathing heavily.

"I'm...sorry..." Papa hyperventilated.

"No...I'm...sorry..." Lyle huffed in response, taking deep breaths. "I...guess...old...habits...die...hard..."

I just stood there amoung them, shocked and unable to move. My eyes were drying out from the lack of ability to blink.

"What's happening now?" A woman's voice groaned, exasperated.

"Aunt Xanthe!" Oliver and Juliette cheered like excited children, both crushing the life out of a blue-haired woman.

"Jeez, kids, quit trying to murder me!" Xanthe protested. "Who is this dashing young fellow?"

When I realized she was talking about me, I blushed furiously.

"That was what I wished to discuss with you, old friend." Emerson stated. "He is Juliette's Bond."

"Um..."

"Let me finish. They have known each other for a couple of weeks now, and when he fainted at the dinner table yesterday, we expected him to change, and...he didn't. Do you know how that could be?"

Xanthe was chuckling, as if thinking of an inside joke.

"What's so funny?" Lyle asked.

"It's staring at you right in the face, my star crossed lovers." Xanthe informed them, grinning at the term of endearment. "Juliette is a woman."

"And?"

"Women don't have Bonds. They only have Oaths. I thought you knew."