Dead By Daylight [OneShots]

The Dark Lord X (OC) Reader X Alucard (P2)

Even in my hometown, time itself had exercised its ponderous influence in a constricting manner. We knew of years, and we certainly felt of it with the passing of age and men. But all year round, it was all the same. Where I was born, it was a cold place, a very dull and cold place.

One would've given a look to the portfolio and passed it on, never wanting to take a look back. Perhaps I would've considered doing so too. Wherever you look it is snow, the mornings are clouded, and it precipitates around the place at a troublesome rate. When you get through the people, they're as dull as the weather. Their ambitions are tamed by the cold, their passions are cooled down by the frost gathered over the slopes of their roofs. Whatever they've accumulated, be it their wealth or honor, has no substantial value to it. It is at it is, a meager earning in a mundane life.

I was one of them, the common people. I loved my place, even if at times I had wished to leave the place I couldn't help but love the simplicity of it. It was a calm, uneventful town. There weren't any great fears lingering around the corners. It was a strange, albeit comforting place to be in a small space. The houses were packed with rowdy children and their big, furry companions. Children would run along the litter, pick them up and play in the icy dens they'd made and pretend they're raising wolves and dragons. Men would leave their houses by the dusk and return by the dawn, to the sounds of their children fighting for the share of dessert while their wives and mothers would be gossiping in the kitchen, the old folks watching the children run around, reminiscing of their youth.

It was a quiet life, nothing to goad about. But it was comforting. Ours was a tight-knit community, where at every turn you would only, and only see known faces. These faces you would never forget, and even by the time the said face had begun to wither, you could still see the haze of the remembered visage. These were the people who'd grown up with each other, brothers dragging their little boys and girls together into the playground and sharing with them their old tricks, and their children would grow up doing the same, finding home in one another, and at times too common, even love. Same was for my brother, who grew being picked up on by my gallant best buddy as she had chased him through the school when he was unwilling, and had later taken him to the aisle. This time, however, he was very willing, and happy.

Profession was where the journey took a different turn. My little town wasn't the one to offer what I sought. There was a thought I had of children, whom I loved very much. It had been confirmed when my brother had brought home his little boy, and when I had held him close, I knew that love came in all forms. I had considered being a teacher, finding love and settling for the life known to me, away from the cumbersome trivial troubles of the world.

But then I had to attend to my frivolous urge to look for something to amaze me, and that knack of adventure had gotten me onto the path that only led to one destination; the very world I had thought of as a hotspot for all sorts of trouble.

Hudson wasn't from our town. Nor was he known to me, but we were known to his family. I had played with his grandmother's puppers all my life. I loved the dogs to death. Though they were now hulking, burly beasts, they would still jump across the lawn to land right into my lap whenever I had come to pay the sweet old lady a routinely visit. It was that time of the year when the cold was raging by the end of year, when on Christmas Eve I met him. He was every bit his grandmother's boy, whose daughter had taken it from her and had bestowed it to her son. A gentlemanly man with appropriate etiquettes, my mother had approved of him in all her glances.

It was strange, for I hadn't considered the possibility of marrying a man too soon. I considered myself young, and still pretty naive. Above all, I valued my freedom a little bit too much. But then we were sitting with the family, talking of the unseen world and I was smitten. Not so much by him, but by the idea of what was beyond this little town. He wasn't so shy, and spoke deliberately about his ideals, something that was of great interest to me.