Malachai Parker wasn't the only person to massacre his family. Along with him was Isabelle Martin, a witch who held his hand along the way, letting him siphon painlessly.
You could say she was as crazy as he. Unable to see the destruction he truly...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
<><><>
Then
While Mal slept, I carefully gripped the cam-corder from the bedside table and switched it on. Through the screen I watched him. How his chest rose and fell, how his lips were slightly parted and the way stray brown strands fell in his eyes.
"Staring is creepy" he said in a sing-song voice before slowly peeling his eyes open.
How beautiful they were, a lovely blue you could just drown in.
"I'm not staring, I'm filming" I corrected.
"God, that's even worse" he chuckled, leaning up onto his elbow before snatching the camera from me.
"What's the day?" He queried.
"Seventeen",
"Day seventeen in this hellhole!- " he announced grandly, making me giggle as he reached forward to fiddle with my hair. "- With the most beautiful girl in the world..." Mal added before reaching down to kiss my forehead. The butterfly touch was sensational against my flesh. It erupted a serene warmth underneath my skin, sending chills to dance down my spine.
"I'm the only girl in the world" I wondered out loud.
"Exactly" he teased before throwing the cam-corder to the foot of the bed. Allowing us to kiss without any distractions. His lips moulded with mine in an intoxicating movement. A dance of love, eventually to be converted into loneliness. But, we continued to claw at each other until he was straddling my waist, locking me beneath him.
His fingers tangled in my hair as my hands fisted his own.
I needed his touch. But, slowly I began to question if it was because he was the only one. It's an insecurity that could never be tested. If he grew jealous or... Would he eventually leave me, for someone better.
They were idle thoughts. Ones of a teenage girl, a virgin to love. But, he was the same. I knew Malachai. He was detached from emotion, he was a sociopath that somehow found a way to love. Here, society was no longer a dam but a bridge, and that's what was strange. Society no longer existed, yet we thrived due to such a fact.
And then, with the accidental kick of my foot in the right direction, the cam-corder was switched off.
