Of Gods and Monsters

Angels To Some

"Darkness always had its part to play. Without it, how would we know when we walked in the light? It's only when its ambitions become too grandiose that it must be opposed, disciplined, sometimes—if necessary—brought down for a time. Then it will rise again, as it must."

-Clive Barker

Elek and Emilia, by me.

Elek didn't know how long he'd been crying for. Paralyzed and kneeling on the floor, red tears dripping down his face, he imagined he looked pretty pathetic. Emilia had long since expired, her head cradled and resting in his lap, his bloody tears falling on her white face. The only evidence of his crime were the two puncture wounds on her neck, which barely let out any blood at all. Unlike his companion, Elek had at least managed to be gentle in his killing of her. Ambrus watched on, in pity or annoyance, Elek didn't quite know. And honestly, he didn't care.

"We have to dispose of them before the sun begins to rise. The upper floors won't shade us from the light."

Ambrus's voice was offensive to Elek's ears, and he felt like throttling him. Anger burned beneath his eyes, but in truth, he knew he couldn't simply blame Ambrus for everything. It had merely taken a small nudge for him to commit murder. He was a murderer now. He moved Emilia's head gingerly, as if she could somehow feel pain, and shifted her weight to carry her in both arms. Without a word, he began to walk up the stairs.

"What the devil are you doing Elek?!"

Ambrus called after, still rooted to the spot he'd been previously, completely taken aback. Elek didn't answer, he just kept walking. With her lifeless form in his arms, he carried her through the door to their home, through the empty streets of Budapest, all the way to the Danube river. If Ambrus had followed him, he would've been none the wiser. In a meditative state, his feet had taken him the banks of the river, just before dawn of their own volition.

He waded into the river until he was waist deep, Emilia still in his arms, he finally let her go. Her perfect curls pooled around her face as they slowly began to darken from the water, the moonlight hitting her porcelain skin, making it shine like a beacon of light amongst the darkness of the river. Her dress fanned out in a magnificent display, floating as if she were an angel, began to drift further and further down the river. Elek remained rooted to the spot the entire time and didn't dare to move or blink until she had disappeared completely. It wasn't until Ambrus's voice broke the silence that he felt the world begin to turn again.

"Elek, the sun will rise soon. We must get back."

There wasn't a hint of anger in him this time. Without saying a word, Elek returned to his new home, something inside of him now broken.

--

As for the other girls, Ambrus hadn't a care. He tossed their bodies into their unused bathroom tub, pouring a generous amount of lye on both of them. After two days' time, there was little left of them. Ambrus complained loudly about his rug which had been sullied during the ordeal, blaming himself for his "carelessness" in their killing. Shortly after, he'd simply bought a new one to replace it.

Emilia's face haunted Elek's every dream, waking or sleeping. In his imagination, he was strong enough to resist himself, and he'd set her free to live a life of joy and freedom. But, the reality was that despite his guilt, his body lusted for blood again.

After the fifth night from Elek's first murder did Ambrus suggest that they kill again. He explained that vampire's needed to feed, intermittently, to keep their health. And that it was now time again for the hunt. Elek had known without his explanation that this was the case. He could feel his blood supply lessen, his skin get a bit taunt around his bones, his color fade. Emilia's blood that had once pumped his dead heart and gave a bit of life to his pale face, was now beginning to expire, and Elek felt a renewed sense of loss at the thought.

--

On the fifth night, Elek discovered something that had surprised even Ambrus. They walked the streets of Budapest, searching for any victim they could find. An easy target, one without the need for much interaction. Ambrus had sensed that Elek didn't quite enjoy the drawn out dramatics of the hunt as much as he did, and had decided to cave to his younger wards needs, by sacrificing his own.

After hours of no such luck, Elek began to have incessant ringing in his ears, a faint unexplained humming that was driving him crazy. He finally stopped, unable to bare it, and clasped his hands down over them. Ambrus stopped abruptly in his stride, his tailcoat whipping behind him at the sudden movement. (Even on hunts, Ambrus dressed impeccably.) He touched his friends shoulder, hesitantly, unsure of what was going on.

"What's wrong, Elek?"

He asked, his voice questioning.

"Something's wrong. There's a ringing in my ears, like voices. I think I'm hearing voices"

Elek responded between clenched teeth, taking his hands away from his ears to further inspect this foreign intrusion. Ambrus allotted him time, seeing his friend was search the confines of his mind for answers to this unexpected turn of events. Elek closed his eyes searching for the fuzziness, like a radio playing in the distance, ushering it to the forefront of his mind. Once he found it, he pulled on it like a string, and it snapped forward instantly. Elek's eyes flashed open then, choking on air at his realization. There, not a few hundred feet from them, was a human bent on murder. He knew this, because he could read the man's thoughts and feelings, as clear as day.

"Ambrus—"

He said urgently, grasping his companions forearm tightly.

"I think I can read minds."