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
She didn't speak. Hardly ate, hardly done anything. I wondered maybe if I talked to her, maybe she would come alive again.
While Isabelle was held up in her room, I sat against the door, listening in from the outside. I could hear her, she was creating another video, one for another day.
"Day four hundred and twenty six. Two months and I haven't talked to him... I wanna speak to Mal. But, he seems so distant. And I've tried... I've really tried. However, I wonder sometimes if me being here is enough. That if I... If I... God, I can't even say it" she sighed. Her words were muffled through the walls, filled with a passionate lamentation of what we once were.
I was tempted to bang my head against the door insistently. Tell her, I'm here, there's nothing to worry about. Everything will be okay. Nothing is though.
Suddenly, I fall back and my head is at her feet. Her long hair creates a curtain around her haggard features. However, she still looks pretty to me.
"Wha... What are you doing?" She stumbled out, pulling her hands to her chest.
"Making sure you don't off yourself" I said while standing up, as if it was obvious. But, she very well might've. With the way she was going, I saw death slowly glaze over her ocean eyes.
"I won't..." she mumbled,
"Promise me" I urged before taking her hands in mine. Through her chestnut tangles she looked up at me. Her blue orbs were full of such longing and care, something I was deprived of for many years. I didn't doubt she wouldn't look at me like this in the real world. Her eyes said it all.
"I promise, Malachai",
"Good" I grinned before pulling her into my chest.
Isabelle's warmth nuzzled itself under my skin, forcing a happiness to loom over my form. Tighter and tighter she held onto my shirt while my lips were placed on the crown of her head. She needed me and she had me, forever wrapped around her little finger. And I almost wasn't ashamed to say I didn't mind that...
