Before a Once Upon A Time

A Single Lamp - The Return Of Sadism

Story 2 - A Single Lamp

Part 4 - The Return Of Sadism

He had to see his father before he died.

That single thought propelled him up and all the way through the long stretches of hallway until he reached his fathers room. Even though he could hear voices inside, he was still tentative to enter without knocking. It just seemed impolite, not that the other him would have cared.  He reached up a hand to knock when a maid rushed out of the room, leaving the door open. “Go in, quickly.” She hissed before dashing down the hall to finish her errand.

His anxiety vanished and the puzzled at this. He supposed it was a bit like a vampire - if you were invited in, even if it wasn’t by the owner of the space, you could enter without fear.

*Yes, they did know about vampires. Do not tell me they didn't, because they did. They might not have followed exactly the same beliefs but ever single culture has had some form of vampire myth - which leads one to wonder, could they be real? However, most cultures also talk about something like a werewolf (Or Bigfoot or yeti) and something like aliens that abduct people. If one is real, are the others? How would we know?

*And thinking about it, telling someone something is the easiest way to make them not believe it. Tell someone that you’re crazy or weird and their instant thought is - no they aren’t. Tell someone vampires exist - their instant thought is no they don't. So, if these creatures really wanted to hide, they could fairly easy, even if they were seen a little, because even if those who saw them talked about them, basic human nature prevents everyone else from believing them. Simple really.

He entered to see his father pale as a ghost, gasping, every breath a valiant battle against his failing body, sweat covering his brow and staining his clothes. Gene’s throat grew tight. He never would have thought when this night began that he would see two people dying in it - let alone two people he loved very deeply.

His chest felt tight. Would he ever see them again? How could he? His heart hurt. How could a heart take be dealt so much pain in so short a time and still keep right on beating? He almost wished that he had the courage to kill himself. Doing so would mean he got to be with his loved ones and he would be ridding the world of a great evil. But that would hurt those who loved him, make their hearts ache and breath catch in their throat, and he couldn't do that to them.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. It was a short walk to his father’s side, though it seemed so very far away. Ignoring the many servants who surrounded the man in the bed and scurried to get out of Gene's way was easy. His attention was focused solely on his father, on how long he had left, on whether this would be the last time he saw him.

It was, sadly, so.

Gene saw the moment his father died even before he let out his last breath. His eyes held Gene’s as a hand reached shakily to hold his son’s. And all at once, they just…emptied.

Gene’s heart ripped into pieces and he felt a sudden rippling sadness as he collapsed on the bed, burying his head in the sheets and crying his hardest. He felt a pressure, deep within himself, a heavy feeling pushing on something undefined but assuredly delicate, like a weight pulling on one side of a glass needle.

Then, with a sharp pain, it snapped. That pain brought his focus back to the moment.

Servants crowded the area and watched the display with silent horror. He looked at them with a look of such pure distaste and hatred that even in his revealing position, many of the servants were rushing to the door before he even spoke his command.

"Get out."

Gene waited until the servants had finished frantically clearing the room, and the last had closed the door quietly, before he stood and walked to the fireplace. Reaching up a single finger, he gently stroked the wax on the candle that burned brightly above it. A candle to symbolize a life, a watch for the passing of the soul in the night, one on each side of the mantle. Silently he reached up and snuffed out one light and then the other between his fingers.

He turned and walked back to the bed, sitting on it instead of next to it this time. He reached up and closed his father’s eyes for him, since he would never again be able to.  He began to talk, his throat still tight from tears he had just cried, but could not remember the reason for.

"So. You ducked out on me old man. Left me with your whole business and all your enemies to deal with. That wasn't nice to do. Now I have to deal with all of this work, though I can't say I'm not happy about the money. Really, though, couldn't you have waited a year or two? Just until I can get my reputation reestablished without having to deal with to many extra people? Guess not. You just had to go and die on me. Nice going."

It was only then that Gene stood to leave. He looked at the fire still burning in the fireplace beyond the grate and decided to order that the fireplace be cleaned out after it died down. With tongues. Cleaned out with tongues. He grinned at the mental image, cruel sadist that he now was.

*Now, I can't say if it was the deaths that broke his good side, or if it was just because the spell was broken but Gene did return to his stupid activities of playing in the city streets with the rough kids. However, he also took to gambling and drinking and ...ahum, pleasure. He became the epitome of sin and everyone both hated and secretly was jealous of him for it. No one would admit their feelings but everyone felt them. At least, they did until a different presence came into town.