Solitude (Discontinued)

Chapter 10 - Generations of Hate

Issac violently woke up from his sleep, Where am I, when did I fall asleep, Issac shot up and felt a very soft bed underneath him. Issac's head turned from side to side, he was in an almost aristocratic looking room on a huge bed. Issac threw off the heavy blanket that was over him, Issac got off the bed and he noticed that he was wearing silk night clothes.

"What the hell am I wearing," Issac said tugging on the silk clothing and looking around Issac walked over to the window of the room. "What the hell am I doing by the ocean-"

Issac than noticed the sun was up and shot away from the window, feeling a horrible burning pain in his hand. Dammit, Issac thought holding his hand ignoring the sting he felt shoot through it as his hand touched the open wound. Snarling Issac turned to look for a door and found it with a heavy looking curtain over it, Issac grabbed the door knob and threw the door open.

Issac took a step into the the hallway, sniffing the air Issac caught a scent to his right and walked down the hall his bare feet sticking to the wooden floor. Issac was walking down the hall pausing every now and than to take in the scents, How big is this damn place, Issac thought getting rather annoyed with all the twists and turns he was taking. Issac turned a corner and froze dead in his tracks looking up at a painting of three people who Issac knew all too well.

The man had a black suit on and his black hair was slicked back and his face spoke of nothing but happiness and his blue eyes shone brightly, it was Issac. Issac's eyes traveled from himself over to the woman, and old emotions rushed throughout his body as his eyes explored the woman's glowing green eyes, and looked over the brown curls and Issac felt his unbeating heart melt seeing this woman again.

"Georgia-" Issac said bringing his hand up about to touch the painting until he noticed a young boy infront of the two of them.

The boy was shorter than Issac, but he was in a suit identical to the one Issac was wearing. His black hair was combed neatly forward, his eyes even greener than Georgia's. He was smiling his huge smile and Issac's heart warmed seeing this familiar smile and Issac felt a smile creep across his face without realizing it. Issac looked through the boy's arms and wasn't surprised to see a book held tightly in his arms, and Issac felt the smile grow even more as he saw the familiar sight.

"Gabriel," Issac said bringing his hand to the boys face, gently caressing the beloved face. Issac now smiling more than he knew he could felt a tear role down his cheek and his throat tighten and he slowly sank to his knees, his fingers barely touching the face. "My son-"

"That's my favorite picture you know," a voice said and Issac had no will to turn his head to see who it was. "She really was beautiful, and I don't think I've ever seen a more handsome boy. Issac you have no idea how much it pains me to know they're gone."

Issac turned his head and saw a familiar face, a hated face, Stark's face. Issac though didn't have it in him to feel anger or hate, Issac just turned his head back around and leaned against the wall. After seeing the faces of his wife and son, Issac just couldn't muster the strength to feel anything but utter sadness. They've been gone for over 40 years, and Issac had never actually thought about how much he loved his family until he saw their faces for the first time since he watched Stark murder them. That memory lit a fire in Issac and he stood up spun around grabbing Stark by the collar of his dress shirt and slammed him against the wall opposite of the painting.

"If you cared for them so much why'd you kill them," Issac demanded looking at Stark who made no attempt to get Issac's hand off of him. "Explain to me that Stark, WHY!?"

"Because you disobeyed a direct order I gave you," Stark said calmly and still making no attempt at all to free himself. "Whether you agreed with it or not, you should've done it and deal with it later."