Post by Xhel on Feb 16, 2017 12:41:17 GMT -5
One night, was all it had taken for the life to sink its hooks into his flesh once more. One night of falling through the sky, turning vampires into pile of ashes, escaping a collapsing building and its young hybrid girl denzien. After years training at a monastery, in attempt to find himself, to find peace, and purpose, rescuing his cousin had given him all of that, except in place of peace adrenaline, pure adrenaline. The rush alone gave him purpose, and this, slaying the monsters that lay claim to the night, hunter, that was who he was. A slayer of evil, defender of innocence. He little else. Pablo had chosen Alena over him, once again. Xhel wasn't surprised. The Werewolf Queen gave the young man something Xhel never could, a family, a true family. More than one lonely hunter and his personal vendetta against the hungry blood suckers. Pablo wasn't completely lost to Xhel, he would visit, they would hunt, one day, if Alena didn't get him killed first.
Pablo had his own life to live, as did Xhel. And so he found himself; another night on the job he had forsaken and sworn to quit. Alone in an abandon apartment room, in the heart of Berlin, the city had marked the beginning of the end for him. It was in this city he had met the love of his life, Emilie. It was in this city, she'd been killed, and risen again as the one thing he hated the most. Xhel knelled. The room was exactly as he'd remembered it. The room stripped of its floor and furniture, bullet holes within the walls and ceiling, a pile of his blood, beside a pair of chains attached to the wall. This is where Emi, had left him to die, or rather the abomination that mocked her life. Whether her intention was to actually kill him, or to flee the fury of his lycan brethren, was unknown to him. If he was lucky, he'd find answers, but that was not why he had returned to Berlin. He was here for one thing only, closure. Kneeling by the stain of dry blood, he trailed his fingers over it. There were no clues here, just memories of regret. He should have shot her, the moment she'd told him what had happened. But the tears were so real, she cried the way Emi had, and held him the same way. It was his decision to spare her, as he'd spared Pablo once before. At the time, hugging her close, his gun held to her side, there was no memory more prominent than when he'd decided Pablo would live. He was a boy at a time, one who had just been turned into a monster, deep within slumber splayed across the crouch. Snoring as he always had, drooling out of one corner of his mouth. After his parents, well their parents, Xhel didn't have it in him to kill another member of his family, not when he seemed so human. Sparing Pablo was a choice he'd never come to regret, Pablo alone redeemed lycans, proved that if one was turned they did not have to lose their humanity. If only that applied to vampires. At first it appeared to. The next few days were spent nearly the same. She could not go out in the daylight but the nights remained unchanged. They were spent Emi and him, hunting blood suckers, finding and killing the creeps that had turned her. Blood bags sustained her at first, but one night it seemed that would never suffice. She needed something warm, something alive, she went for him. In life she'd always been the smarter in two, in death she was also stronger and faster. His blood though tasted and reeked of garlic. Enough to dissuade her, still she scolded him for resisting. He was her husband, he should have provided. It was enough for him to leave her, or at least attempt to, but she'd insisted. They'd made vows, until death do them apart, and she claimed to still be alive.
Pablo had his own life to live, as did Xhel. And so he found himself; another night on the job he had forsaken and sworn to quit. Alone in an abandon apartment room, in the heart of Berlin, the city had marked the beginning of the end for him. It was in this city he had met the love of his life, Emilie. It was in this city, she'd been killed, and risen again as the one thing he hated the most. Xhel knelled. The room was exactly as he'd remembered it. The room stripped of its floor and furniture, bullet holes within the walls and ceiling, a pile of his blood, beside a pair of chains attached to the wall. This is where Emi, had left him to die, or rather the abomination that mocked her life. Whether her intention was to actually kill him, or to flee the fury of his lycan brethren, was unknown to him. If he was lucky, he'd find answers, but that was not why he had returned to Berlin. He was here for one thing only, closure. Kneeling by the stain of dry blood, he trailed his fingers over it. There were no clues here, just memories of regret. He should have shot her, the moment she'd told him what had happened. But the tears were so real, she cried the way Emi had, and held him the same way. It was his decision to spare her, as he'd spared Pablo once before. At the time, hugging her close, his gun held to her side, there was no memory more prominent than when he'd decided Pablo would live. He was a boy at a time, one who had just been turned into a monster, deep within slumber splayed across the crouch. Snoring as he always had, drooling out of one corner of his mouth. After his parents, well their parents, Xhel didn't have it in him to kill another member of his family, not when he seemed so human. Sparing Pablo was a choice he'd never come to regret, Pablo alone redeemed lycans, proved that if one was turned they did not have to lose their humanity. If only that applied to vampires. At first it appeared to. The next few days were spent nearly the same. She could not go out in the daylight but the nights remained unchanged. They were spent Emi and him, hunting blood suckers, finding and killing the creeps that had turned her. Blood bags sustained her at first, but one night it seemed that would never suffice. She needed something warm, something alive, she went for him. In life she'd always been the smarter in two, in death she was also stronger and faster. His blood though tasted and reeked of garlic. Enough to dissuade her, still she scolded him for resisting. He was her husband, he should have provided. It was enough for him to leave her, or at least attempt to, but she'd insisted. They'd made vows, until death do them apart, and she claimed to still be alive.