Asmodeus - Demon of Lust: Pt. 08

"Wait, wait, wait," I gasp, "So you're telling me that your grandchild with Elysia, through Pan was the very first vampire?"

"Yes. The child was named Lamia and she was the first of her kind. All modern vampires are descended from her blood."

"And yours," I say.

"And mine," he agrees, "In a sense, they are also my children."

As he says this, he caresses the threads which haunt my great aunt's sleep. As his fingers trail along the bronze coloured vibrations, the dream shifts to a moment between Layla and my grandmother when one was still mortal and both still young. The thread turns gold again as Layla revels in this dream memory.

"You helped her," I whisper, "Thank you."

"As I have told you love, I feel as if all vampires are my kin. She has suffered far too much in the waking world to be troubled by her dreams."

"Is this what you do when you're sleeping?" I ask, my heart warming to him ever further.

"I influence dreams, yes. Mostly for the benefit of my sin but occasionally," he smirks, "For the good of others."

"Of course," I drawl, rolling my eyes, at least he didn't lie.

"Where is she?" I ask, now burning with the desire to see my long lost relative.

"She wanders the world, seeking spiritual salvation for what she has become. She observes her sister's descendants however; undoubtedly she has looked in on your father and all his kin. Surely she knows you are gone."

"Yeah," I whisper, heartbroken by the finality of the word 'gone'.

But that's exactly how my family would see it. I'm gone. Never to be seen again. Something Layla's family would have realised when she disappeared. My poor grandmother; losing a sister and granddaughter the same way twice in one lifetime. We've broken her heart, Layla and I, for the love of monsters.

"Let's find my dad's dream then," I say, trying to clear the thickness growing in my throat.

Thankfully, Asmodeus sees the shift in my mood and immediately obliges. He gently flicks Layla's dream back into the abyss and with the same hand, summons another golden rope of sub consciousness. This one is corrupt though, infected with bronze strands so dark they look black.

My father's nightmares.

I sigh, apprehension flooding through me. The last thing I want to do is watch the horror which disturbs my dad's sleep. But seeing the choking hold of the bronze-black strands smothering what should be peaceful dreams is more than enough to strengthen my resolve. I lace my fingers with Asmodeus' and say, "Let's do this."

Wordlessly, he draws a darkened thread closer and expands it. I see an image of my father searching frantically for something, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Asmodeus expands the strand until it becomes a doorway of sorts, made of light, with the now full sized image of my dad pacing restlessly within its depths. Asmodeus directs his hand, palm up at the portal in an 'after you' gesture. Taking a deep breath, I walk into a foreign nightmare.