One of the things that upset me most about Jonathan was he didn't cry. His silence disturbed me. Even as he grew bigger he didn't cry or laugh. Sometimes he smiled but the smile was hollow and creepy. I hated it. I disgusted myself as I hated my own child.
Valentine carried on attending to The Circle, a place I had yet to return despite having my child. One night when he was out at a meeting I jumped awake to a cry which was odd as Jonathan didn't cry so the cry had me running to his nursery where he slept peacefully. I stared at him for a short moment and like always checked to see if he was still breathing. You know when I didn't see his hatefully dark eyes I could almost love him.
Confused I followed the wailing sound through the otherwise silent Manor House. The wailing got louder as I crept down the stairs as my nerves were now shot. I thought I'd had heard screams before but never a crying child. I stood in the hall and listened intently for the cry which sounded towards the kitchen. Once in the kitchen the cry rang up the steps from the cellar. As I tiptoed down the steps I could feel the blood coursing through my veins and my heart thudding in my ears. I felt afraid. Stretching out a shaking hand I attempted to push the old rusted iron handle down but it refused to budge. Reaching above the door frame I felt my left hand close around the key. Something was driving me to open this door. I needed to see what was behind it. I slid the key into the lock. I really wasn't prepared for what was behind the door.
The stench was one of death similar to the smell of an animal carcass which has been left to decay in the heat. The smell made me gag and wretch at the door. I almost fled but curiosity drew me into the darkened room to see what was causing the smell. Instantly my eyes fell on the cells which surrounded the old wine cellar. In one cell a vampire had its skin burnt off with holy water and the notebook beside it documented how many times the skin had been burnt off and that each time the poor creature had regenerated. My heart rested in my mouth as I moved down to another cell which contained a faerie which had been pierced over and over by iron and yet it was still living or I suppose the better word was surviving. This life in a cell was merely an existence not a life. I fought the urge to vomit especially as I spotted a lycanthrope which had its skin burnt over and over with silver powder. Its skin was red and raw where the powder had burnt it. The red marks indicated how badly it had been burnt and I wanted to help it.
Out of the corner of my eye I spied a thick notebook lying on the desk at the top of the room. This book was more scribbled on than the others even from far away I could see Valentine's curling handwriting. My heart raced as I moved towards the notebook. I opened and found a heading which I recognised. It was my name. Jocelyn Morgenstern.
"Jocelyn drank the mixture again tonight... The regular infusions of demon ichor..."
I covered my mouth as I read the words demon ichor. He'd mixed demon blood into those drafts he'd given me! He could have poisoned me. He could have killed me.
"The regular infusions of demon ichor have made the child's heart beat strong... There is no visible change in Jocelyn yet it is the child which concerns me... The ichor appears to be taking effect as the child kicks hard enough to leave bruises... This ichor will make the child the mightiest Shadowhunter in the world!"
I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. He had destroyed our child. He'd stolen him from me before I had the chance to get to know him. I had so wanted a baby to love. How could he do that to a child? His own child. His own son. The baby I'd craved. That was why his eyes were so black, the demon blood had to manifest itself in some physical way. Valentine's words were addictive, every single one drew me to read the next. The book made me feel physically ill. He'd jeopardised the life of our son to try and create a new race of Shadowhunter. He had injected himself with the demon blood to no end and had quickly come to the conclusion that he'd need a child, preferably one that had not yet been born. Then I'd fallen pregnant and his test subject could be monitored by him at all times.
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Valentine Morgestern
FanfictionThe story of Jocelyn Fairchild as she falls in love with Valentine and her experiences in the Uprising.