House Red

The Wedding - Chapter 3

~New York, 1915~

We walked away from Polo Grounds after watching the Yankees take on the Philadelphia Athletics. We barely watched the game though, as we were staring at each other the whole time. Even now, Anastasia and I walked slowly through the bustling crowd as if the eye of a great storm of sports fan ready to celebrate the win or drown the sorrows of their team's loss depending on which side they were on.

My thumb gently traced along hers as she held my hand with hers and clung tightly to my arm with the other, keeping me in full contact at all times. We went to a small cafe and ate without saying more than a few words. Everything we had wanted to say was instantly understood by the other. Our connection had always been so strong, words felt like a needless waste.

I was thankful we didn't need to say anything, for I felt that my voice would have betrayed me if I had to utter more than a few words at a time. Until I received the last communication from my Father, I had planning on taking this beautiful woman as my Prime. I dropped a few folded bills without looking and grabbed her hand, pulling her out into the crisp air that smelled of soon-to-fall rain.

We didn't even register the thick humidity as we walked in the direction of the hotel that she was staying at for her visit. This was my last night in the city before having to return to Boston and my father. This was one of Anastasia's favorite cities, so she had a standing reservation at one of the most expensive hotels in the city in case she decided to visit.

I had done many cruel things in my life so far, but looking into her eyes and acting as if everything was as perfect as she thought was almost too much. I had seen countless people die at my hands in horrible ways, but this time I had been unable to commit to pull the trigger. I had contracted some outside help with a little misinformation.

After the Eastman Gang had broken up when the leader, Monk Eastman, had been incarcerated and later enlisted in WWI, the smaller factions were vying for power. A lot of them still held a lot of animosity towards the former leader, a ruthless man himself that was earning quite the reputation as a trench fighter in France. a little tip to these old associates that one of his secret mistresses was currently back in New York was enough to bring all of the rats out of the sewers.

"You have seemed distant tonight. Is it something with your Father?" Her eyes showed only deep concern. Sometimes I wished I could just turn off the humanity that I had left. I had confided for years in Anastasia about my misgivings about everything, the Making, my Father, the Game itself, things that would have been blasphemous to any other Player. Anastasia was still too young and gentle to be fully integrated into this system.

"I just hating leaving you. I don't know when I will see you again." I kissed her deeply, pulling her tiny frame into my arms. Her pale figure and golden dress almost disappearing into my black-suited form.

"Don't worry love, we have an eternity." That almost got me. I caught a small whimper in my throat and refused to let it out. Her youth and naivete was infectious. I kissed her again to make sure it didn't come out and to say goodbye without saying it.

"Of course. I have to go and catch my train. I am sorry I cannot stay the night." I barely paused to hear her small goodbye before turning and leaving. If I lingered any longer I was in danger of tipping her off to something being wrong if not outright warning her.

I know she stood and watched me walk out of sight before turning to the elevator that would take her to her suite. I know because I could feel those deep golden eyes on me the whole time. Those eyes that gave away too much of her thoughts, but were so intoxicating you would do almost anything to never see them radiate pain.

The rest of the trip back to Boston was a simple affair. I couldn't get those eyes out of my head. Had she known something was wrong? Did I see a flicker of suspicion? Or worse, betrayal? I drank heavily the whole way in an attempt to dull my thoughts as I watched the dark landscape slide by out the window.

I partook of a pair of women that would be getting off a few stops after Boston. They would remain undisturbed for the majority of the ride and no one would notice two more young women disappearing into the night. It wasn't quick either.

I had to bury my humanity any way I could. I made one watch with a precisely broken neck that paralysed her while keeping her alive and unable to make more than a whimper as I drained and defiled her traveling companion.

Why had I let Anastasia become so close? I had been centuries without anything close to a companion, acting as a proper soldier and son for my Father. Until I met her, I had participated freely and even gleefully in the Game, its intricacies keeping the boredom of immortality at bay. These years with her, though, had seemed to drag to a halt if I didn't see her for a few months. That kind of affection for another had driven more than a few of my kind mad; what was an eternity worth if you had to live it after having lost that person?

I killed the other one without draining her, flinging both of their corpses out of the window into a rushing river as the train flew over the bridge. Their personal effects followed. Someone would think they had disembarked and just run away.

A nameless worker of House Red was already waiting for me when I stepped off the train. "Your bags have already been gathered, and I have been instructed to escort you directly to the House." He motioned to a 1914 Keystone painting entirely in a deep, majestic red. Outside of Boston proper lay the sprawling estate of my Father, and the seat of House Red's power.

In my private wing of the house, I sat at a desk with a candle flickering in the slight wind flowing through the large window. The House was entirely except for the staff, my Father and Mother attending a show in the city. They would expect to receive them when they returned. Even with modern technology, I resembled my Father in preferring candlelight to light bulbs. When you can see perfectly by moonlight what was the point in brightening the surroundings?

I chuckled at what my Father said when someone proposed putting them in the House as a way to elevate our local status. "Why would we put in something that is supposed to keep us safe from the things that go bump in the night? We are those things." My quill moved fluidly over the parchment, pausing periodically to dip into the inkwell as I penned my farewell.

Father,

It has been no secret these last few centuries that we have had our differences. I have served as Jack of House Red and your Son loyally all this time, even following your final order to me no matter how much it pained me.

I am shedding this burden and leaving. I understand this will not be fully goodbye, for how can one sever all ties to the person that gives them life? For the good of House Red I will fulfill my duties as I must, but from this day forward we are Father and Son only in title.

When you penned those instructions you also signed the end of any personal loyalty I had for you, this House, and everyone associated with it. I will be there always watching and waiting for the moment to topple you. Until then, I will be a loyal servant of Red only to the letter, not the intention.

Your Loyal Son,

Silas Red

I folded the letter, pressing the wax with my personal seal, and sliding it under his office doors before walking out the door and into the wooded night of the estate heading west.

I wandered the world for the next century, only rarely participating in House Red's operations as needed. My Father could always find me; it was part of the Blood Gift. I had hidden my location from everyone else, but could never leave him behind. I indulged in WWI as a personal adventure before spending time in the Orient and cultivating my own contacts throughout Europe and Asia before coming back into the fold for WWII, donning the persona of the Red Baron.

After that debacle, I began actually working towards a goal; founding a power that would rival that of my Father and his House. First, I had to find a way to sever our tie and install myself as a Primarch of a bloodline.

I still had to participate and play the part of Jack and Son, a powerhouse even among the Players of House Red, so here I was, verbally sparring with Dimitri, someone whom I truly wish would just be locked away to rot for eternity in solitude, and standing eye-to-eye with Anastasia, the woman whom I had truly loved and tried to kill.

Yep, this was turning out to be as interesting as I thought.