Malachai Parker wasn't the only person to massacre his family. Along with him was Isabelle Martin, a witch who held his hand along the way, letting him siphon painlessly.
You could say she was as crazy as he. Unable to see the destruction he truly...
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Now
Once Mal was sat down, his head rolled back over the spine of the couch, I found myself taking an oil lamp down to the basement. There, my brothers and sisters sat in a desiccated state. Grey veins haunted their skin and never did I see them without death obvious upon their flesh.
Strange enough, I knew each one off by heart.
Mary-Louise was the blonde, Lily said she was beautiful and brave, yet feisty and temperamental, especially when it came to her lover, Nora. Nora seemed nice enough with her exotic features, our Mother had said she never saw the two apart. They were inseparable due to being siphoners and being who they were.
Malcolm was known to be handsome, sadly, I never saw him enough in that light. Therefore, I couldn't give my direct opinion. Plus, Lily hardly let me visit.
Beau was always quiet, I was never sure why, she had never elaborated on that fact. Only that he was smart and noble in persona.
Valerie was my favourite. She was smart and beautiful with the curls of copper hair. And her features were not soft but sharp, it seemed like she had much power. Thus, explaining why I would like to get to know her better.
Then there was Oscar, I didn't know much about him. Only that he was open to change and adaptable. Rumours that Lily had heard from her children said he wanted to be free of the family. Yet, she couldn't believe why.
While I scoured those sitting at the table, I placed down the oil lamp to retrieve a knife I had grabbed from the kitchen. I could feel Malcolm's eyes following my every movement while I strode in their direction.
"Don't worry... I'm only trying to help" I smiled as I allowed the blade to cut into my flesh. I could see the wild anticipation biting at every crevice of their mind. However, they would have to wait, take it slow. I couldn't exactly have them harming Malachai, he despised me enough.
With careful movements, I cupped Malcolm's face with my bleeding wrist inches from his lips.
"Take it slow, you'll be okay, I won't leave you" I then reassured as he bit into my pale skin. A gasp in pain forced itself from my lips as he found the strength to grip the back of my forearm tighter.
Soon enough, life was breathed back into the heretic and his dark, grey eyes met my own. His features softened, they became defined and full of a mature attraction.
