The Darkness Ch. 01

It should be assumed and said that all characters are over the age if 18 years old and currently there are no acts of sex.

Chapter One

Inside of each of us is the darkness wanting out. But what if that darkness is the ending and the beginning of us all?

The full moon hung like a ghost in the night sky as Yada overlooked the lights of the city below from her tenth-floor apartment. She studied the diamond twilight for over an hour before turning away--No longer able to stomach the sight. It had been nearly a month since she had been home, having stayed in the coven's inner chambers since the city fell under siege to a rival house a little over three weeks ago.

Over the years, the city had seen many battles for control of the streets. To date the two bloodiest battles took place within the last fifteen years. The Baden's orchestrated both attacks. Lead by Darius, the Baden's seemed hell bent on ruling the city with little regard to the Michelson's.

The Michelson's governed the streets for nearly two hundred years, and a formidable force. Lead by Gabriel, the Michelson's protected the city, and it survived unscathed. The streets were free from the blood deals, which went unnoticed by the public eye, normally. However, this last battle proved more difficult to keep quiet. It had been an all-out war for control, drawing innocent people into the blood feud as the Baden's raided the streets for warriors to fortify their numbers. The Michelson's retaliated through unusual ventures to keep the war silent.

With the war all but over Yada returned home. She embraced the warmth of the one place that had served as her sanctuary, her stronghold, her private museum, filled with mementos from nightly rituals she could never speak of again. Walking amongst the thick bookshelves stocked with trinkets, she kept as memories of long forgotten friends and places reminded her of an earlier time in her life when everything was uncomplicated. She lingered several minutes in front of the center section and stared blankly at the empty space. Forced to add something new to her collection, she slipped the pack from her shoulder and removed a small blood stained cloth. Opening it tenderly as though the contents would break if she hurried, she removed a jeweled crusted dagger, and carefully balanced it on the tips of her fingers until her knees gave out.

Softly wiping away a stream of tears that had gone unnoticed until now, she examined the dagger. It was ancient-- Older then Elders and just as mysterious. Crafted in Egypt before the birth of Christ, the blade was stained crimson and etched with an intricate design. The handle held two emeralds stones, finely polished, and encased in silver. Until tonight, she had only heard of it in Vampire legend, and had never thought the myths to be true, let alone she would be worthy enough to hold it.

Taking a deep breath she recalled how simply the night started. She was supposed to escort her employer and an old friend to a meeting, but something had gone tremendously wrong. A death squad of seven hit their limo. The resulting battle was bloody and forced her to give up all that she believed to be honest and true.

With a heavy sigh, she moved the dagger across her hand, quickly feeding it her essence before laying it gently upon the shelf. Bloodletting was just one of the traditions she lived by. With the blade fed for tonight, she adjusted its position on the shelf. Hurrying away from it, she returned to the window to watch the moon slowly slip behind a high-rise.

Her mind wandered through time replaying each moment of the last month. A cold chill moved down her spine and she began to crave warmth and solitude. Although, she knew she would find neither. Finally glancing across the room to the desk, she knew what had to do.

In the bottom drawer was a ledger, entrusted to her years before. The ledger was old and covered in faded black leather, and used to record the names of the dead. Necrology, some would call it. Nevertheless, to her it was the source of all damnation. She was now obligated to add to list of the dead, instructed to place two names on the never-ending list. Holding the book to her breast and caressing it with the gentleness a man might give to a beautiful woman; she opened the yellowing pages and slowly entered the first name. Pausing long enough to digest what she had just done she closed the cover without recording the second.

Looking over her shoulder to the clock, she knew the first red-tinged rays would begin their climb over the city in a few hours. She had hoped to use the time to jog delicious memories, but instead felt the bitterness of disappointment clasp her heart.

"Why?" She whispered, hoping in the emptiness an understanding would come. However, dealing in death as she often did, she knew understanding would not come. Years earlier, she learned death was a needed tool in protecting the humans from the night creatures that stalked the city. She once searched for absolution from her duties, but knew it would never be granted.

Several minutes slipped away before she painstakingly set the ledger on the third shelf. She knew that before sunrise she would add the second name. It was the second name she was having trouble accepting. It was the second name she could not admit to.

Sitting at the desk unsure of what to do, it finally came to her. Retrieving a blank journal from the second drawer, she opened the cover. After reflecting on a single word, she began her story.

"Darkness," she again whispered.

***

A gentle breeze from the south brought a thick cloud cover, which blocked the afternoon sun. Jessica Gotti had not noticed the changing weather until the mail carrier appeared from nowhere, and handed her a large bound stack. Flipping through the pile, she took a select handful with her to her car and dumped them in the passenger seat.

Looking over the front window of the gallery, she felt a tickle on the back of her neck as though someone was watching her. Quickly turning around and finding nothing out of place she rubbed her temples, dismissing the sensation as a sign of stress from the extra work she'd put in so the opening date would not be delayed again.

Realizing it was almost 3:00 P.M.. She decided to head home. The drive lulled her mind from the hectic schedule she had been living by. The rhythmic sound of the tires erased all the stress of the last few days. Moreover, for the first time she knew in her heart that the opening would go off as planed with no backlashes.

She was listening to a Final Mile song. She had met Cornell Cross once a few years before, when he was still the lead bass guitarists. They had become fast friends and she kept up with the band as they grew over the years. She was singing one of the songs, lost in the lyrics when she realized she was at her driveway. Hitting brakes hard, she took the turn a little too wide. The front tires ran over the edge of a freshly planted bed of daisies. The mail slid to the floorboard before she finally got the car under control. Mumbling under her breath she leaned across the front seat and grabbed the stack. A large manila envelope, protruding from under the front seat, caught her attention. Taped on the cover was a second, smaller, letter.

"What do we have here?" She asked, opening it with a curious look. Two days before her husband had the car detailed after their son spilt a milkshake on the floor board. She knew the letter wasn't there then.

September 30, 2026

My Dearest Jessica,

Reading this must come as a shock to you. Actually, it is a shock for me as well. I do not know where to begin, or if there is a beginning. Over our many years as friends, you have asked me for the truth about my life. In the past, I was unable to give you what you needed. I am not sure if I can now.

You wanted to know who I was. Until now, I could not explain what I did not understand. Or perhaps, I did not know where to start or how much you would believe.

You have always known I was different, and have always accepted my eccentricities. For that, I thank you.

My world is far different from yours and has always been. There have been times over the years when our two societies have clashed. During those dark days, I have protected you from the darkness that hunted us.

Nevertheless, things have changed, and you are now in danger. I cannot protect you from the truth, nor can I change what has happened. I can only explain to you why I have done as I have, and will continue to do what I must.

I know this does not make any sense, but in time, it will. Enclosed you will find a notebook. You will need what you find inside for your protection. Read the pages with an open mind, and remember I am now and will always be your friend. Remember I love you. And when you doubt what you read recall the times we spent together as kids on the streets.

When the shadows play in your mind, remember our last meeting and how you found me.

Above all else...remember who you are.

Your humble friend,

Yada

"This has to be a joke! This is a sick cruel joke." Jessica said, sharply. She glanced down the street to see if anyone was watching before looking at the note again in disbelief. "Funny, very funny," she mouthed to no one.

Jessica looked over the white Cape Cod. She half expected to find a hidden camera or something. Walking to the front door of her home, she tucked the letter under her arm and checked over her shoulder to see if anyone was really watching. She still did not believe what she read. As far as Jessica knew, Yada was killed a little over a year ago when the yacht she was on exploded shortly after docking in Panama City. Jessica had known of others to fake their deaths, but not Yada, she was too proud to hide in the shadows. Yada was to open in her world to fake her own death.

"Honey," sounding distracted and very distant, Jessica made her way through the foyer. "I'll be in the study if you need me. I was wondering if you could keep an eye on the kids for me." Jessica asked, never even noticing her husband standing a few feet in front of her.

"What's wrong?" Her husband asked puzzled by her expression. They had been married to many years for him not to know something was bothering her. He noticed the envelope in her hand. "Did you get bad news?" He sounded concerned.

"No. I got something from an old friend, and I just need some quiet time to look through it." Jessica knew Carmen would know she was partly lying, but she wasn't ready to have him read the letter. Yada and Carmen weren't exactly friends when she was alive. Jessica never understood why Yada protested in secret about their marriage.

"Take all the time you need, but don't forget we need to be at Mothers later tonight." It sounded almost mechanical. Carmen was really disturbed by his wife's appearance. He had only seen her look this distraught once before.

"I'll be ready in time. I just need a few hours to sort it out." She leaned up a kissed his cheek.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine... really." She reassured him another kiss. "It's...it's just some papers...I need to look over. I swear." She smiled quickly to cover her lie. "I'll be ready by eight."

"Ok," his answer assured her he did not believe her. Placing a tender kiss on her forehead, he ushered her into the den.

Once behind closed doors she placed the letter in the center of the oak desk. Pacing back and forth like a caged cat, she just watched the letter as though it would somehow open up and do a trick. "This is silly," she laughed, walking to the curtains and pull them shut. "What the heck am I doing? Yada isn't here...No one is watching me, and I'm talking to myself for no reason."

She touched the gray patch just above her right eye before ripping the package to shreds. "Let's see what game we have here." Examining the notebook, carefully, she recognized Yada's handwriting. "Ok Yada or whoever wants me to think this is from Yada, you have my full attention. What do you want to tell me?"

September 15, 1986

We killed my father tonight.

He didn't leave me any choice. James, or that is what he called himself in human form, was a killer. He attacked five wolfin across the region before he finally captured me. He taunted me for several days before I knew what I needed to do.

I could not allow him to go on.

I couldn't have more blood on my hands. I already had too much blood on my hands with Anos death. James killed him because he was my friend.

I still do not understand Lyceums or their thinking, but I am learning. Daily I am learning about the war on the streets between the Wolfin's and the Lyceums. And I do not like what I am finding out.

My education started the day he kidnapped me. It was the day he killed Jake. I rather miss Jake, even if he was a real pain in the ass. A second event happened that day. It was the day Gabriel entered my life. Rescuing me from James set into motion a chain of events that lead me back to the warehouse tonight.

My friend Mark was there. He and Quinn had figured out who he was. If they figured out then it would have only been a matter of time before the war would have spilled over into the streets, putting all the packs at risk.

Mark killed me as well. I know it does not make any sense. Ok, it still does not make sense to me either, but one minute I was helping Oshey protect Cammie and the next, I felt the bullet puncture my chest. I saw the look in Mark's eyes as my body fell to the floor.

I recall the hollow thud my cheek made as I hit the tile. I knew it was over, and then I heard a voice. The voice was telling me how to slow my heart. I guess I listened to it, or rather my body listened to it. Because I woke up hours later in an apartment, unsure of what had happened, except that I was alive. Even if I wished I was not. I realized he saved me, and I don't know why.

I'm a nothing, a no one, and yet here I am.

I feel a strong attachment to him. It's hard to explain, but I feel it as though we are one. I have never felt a connection to anyone like this before. It is hard to describe. The closest thing to it is the feeling of his presence: Always.

Gabriel has somehow claimed me as his, and I cannot deny his claim.

I can't think anymore. Nothing seems real, yet in the same moment everything feels and looks normal.

***

Slowly she woke to the sounds of Beethoven. Her eyes fluttered several times, focusing on the light coming under the door. The light somehow beckoned to her, urging her to follow it back to its source. Gradually she made her way down a dim hallway.

"Hello?" Startled by the sound of her own voice, she rubbed her throat. It felt rough and strained, as though she had been screaming all night or smoke one to many cigarettes. She was thirsty as well. She licked chapped lips trying to regain some composure when the sound of music seemed to intensify. Her head started to ache, and she was sure if she opened her mouth, what was left of her brain would fall out. Rubbing her temples, she followed the sound of music to a small room.

Recognizing Gabriel, she breathed easier until she remembered what happened. She approached him with a curious look of regret. Much like a child would approach a parent after defying their wishes. That was exactly what she was -- A child who disobeyed.

"That was very foolish of you, Yada." Gabriel said never looking away from the ebony keys. He knew by her footsteps she was in pain. The normal rhythm she walked in was replaced by a hesitant step. "You could have been killed, or worse. What were you thinking?"

"I didn't think. After I called you, I went inside to --"

"-- To do what," his voice darkened. "Help them?" He paused, looking over his shoulder intently. "You are correct, you didn't think."

"He was my father," she pleaded, taking a sudden step forward. "I had to stop him from killing again."

"You were told to wait for me." His hands kissed the keys harder, stressing his words. "I can see you and I have some communication problems to overcome."

She felt her knee's buckle with the weight of his words, and felt the unseen slap to her cheek. Pivoting on shaky legs, she sat across from him. The cool leather caressed her shoulder --easing some of the pain. Closing her eyes, she relived each moment from the previous night. After careful deliberation, she answered him. "I was foolish to go in alone. It was a mistake that will not happen again."

"It was a mistake that cost you your life."

"If --"

"-- If what?" he snapped, twisting his body so he was staring at her. "If I had not come when I did you would be dead, and I would have to start again. I am not pleased by your defiance." He gave her a stern look before looking back at the piano. "But your skill in battle has shown me why I should keep you." He said as an afterthought.

She did not respond, knowing if she said anything, he would probably kill her again just to prove a point. She touched her right temple before slouching lower in the chair.

"I see you have learned already. You fought well. You kept your head, even when you knew you were going to die. But more importantly you didn't give away the fact I was there."

She looked to the door. She could not bear to look at him when he was angry with her. To her it was like looking in the eyes of a lover who had just betrayed you.

"I think in time you will grow and learn." Gabriel had been through this many times over the years. Training a new sahead took time and patience. He understood the woman with him was worth the effort. He smelt it in her. She had the smell of killer, and that is what he needed.

Yada nodded, leaning back in the chair. "I will not fail you again."

"No, I do not think you will." He stopped playing and tapped the bench changing the subject and tone.

"Do you know what this is?" His hand moved across the ivory keys in reference to the piece of music.

"Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata in D Minor, if I'm not mistaken." She answered, sitting at his side with her back to the keys.

"You know your composers." He was impressed. She was the first person in many years to know the sonata. He began playing again.

"I know some music, besides the hip-hop and pop-rock of today." She smiled. "I've always found myself in the storm of classical music."

"This piece is how I think of you."

"Why? Why do you think of me like this?"

He did not answer at first. Instead, he continued to play. "It's interesting you chose the word storm." He shifted so he was facing her. "Inside of each of us is the battle to overcome the storm of life."

She thought about what he was saying. "You and I..." A sense of calm flooded over her body and she relaxed.

"We are closer then you know, and farther then you can imagine." He traced her jaw-line as he spoke. "My blood pumps through your heart, just as your courses through mine. It gives us an awareness of each other that cannot be explained or denied. We are connected in ways you have never fathomed. There is an intense commonality between us."

"I'm not sure if I understand." She looked puzzled and bewildered.

"Time is the key to all understanding, Yada. You and I have all the time in the world, you just don't see it yet."

Gabriel kissed her forehead as a father would kiss a daughter before bed. "You need to rest. Give it a couple of days and I shall tell you everything you need to know."

She opened her mouth to object, but quickly fell silent seeing the look in his eyes. "As you wish," she added, standing slowly.

"You will find your room is at the end of the hall. Join me in five days, and we can start again."

"Why in five days?" She asked, curiously.

"You need to heal. A bullet passed through your chest and shoulder, and it will take a few days for you to recover. You will do me no good if you are dead."