Marionette

Prologue: Two broken puppets

An elk's eerie wail echoed in the forest just as the moonlight filtered onto his face,transforming mindless thoughts into something unpleasant.

Dead women lying in wet ferns, shrouds lying in their stone coffins and the way he cried for centuries when his eyes ran dry, his heart took over. The scent of the night blooming jasmines hit him hard and he's forced to open his eyes once again.

Licking a trail of blood from his lips, the extravagant ballrooms,candle lit chandeliers and his old bedroom melt away into his pitiful, pale reflection on the cold glass of his windowsill, forests painted black by the sky and canal blue stripes. He sets aside his chalice of blood in his hand listening to the boar's blood settle. Shoving away a plate of raw meat, the notes of a piano rises throughout the manor. Every touch of a key tugs at what's left of his heartstrings.

He hasn't slept in centuries but that never stops him from dreaming. About her, about who he was before and what would have become of him. Maybe if he stayed human, he'd meet her again reunited in death. No he tells himself. If he were a mortal who would protect his current family? He can't possibly be that selfish?

Since becoming a creature of the night, Nicolae yearned for companionship. He wanted a family desperately. He needed someone to dedicate his lonely life to. He needed to hear laughter and some other form of life in this empty manor. His "father" brought him Peter, Drogo and Lorie.

Peter, his melancholic brother like him he suffered so much. He clung to his humanity. Viktor saw him as weak yet Nicolae held great faith in him. He dealt with his sorrows with music.

Drogo, hot headed and impulsive. He could be a handful but Nicolae knew within the tormented shell of a vampire lay a gentle human heart. Drogo was like him once. Maybe that's why he was so hard on him. He liked action rather than music.

Lorie, his sweet Lorie. She should have never been what she was. Too young to be a vampire and too old to be a little girl. Trapped forever her mind twisted into a confusing knot of emotions. Dark yet still playful. She dealt with her pain by destroying her dolls.

And Nicolae? He dealt with his nature by working and taking care of his family. It was a small compensation for his life's failures to his father and fiancé.

Nicolae loved them all but a family's love, while wonderful, lacked romantic love. Emptiness haunted him as the wind made the curtains flutter, rustling the flowers on the bedside table while Peter changed his melody from melancholic to notes of a lost, empty yearning. Nicolae's heart felt like clawing its way out of his chest. Him and his brother both lost the ones they loved in two cruel ways.

He sighed quietly thinking of smaller hands circling his waist, hugging him from behind. She'd ask him to come to bed with her. He'd hold her and play with her hair while telling her yes. On long days she'd visit him in his office and keep him company. Nicolae could almost hear her laughter and her voice. He loved spoiling Lorie but when he was out with her Nicolae saw clothing in soft, natural shades or a lipstick perfect for feminine lips but no one to buy them for. Catering to the women in his life was something that came to him naturally. Why wouldn't he? They were beautiful, nurturing beings capable of creating life and harbouring love. Nicolae would willingly give himself up for the girl he loved. Maybe as death could taste sweet and comforting opposed to immortal life or maybe he fell in love hard and with all his heart.

This faceless woman would be a steady rock beneath his feet when times were tough and he'd be hers. They'd be a comforting touch for each other. What did Nicolae want honestly? His past held one hand and his future clung to the other.

Nicolae usually broke down in exhaustion, his pain and grief ate him alive. So many times Drogo's laughter rang through the manor, or Peter's footsteps took him outside yet the eldest sat at his desk, head in his hands all alone with his troubles. His siblings must never see him as weak. They relied on him and he needed to be there for them.