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...
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Now
While I rested on the couch, with a deep scent of musk overpowering my senses. I took in the last hour. I was nearly stabbed to death by Bonnie, she left me in 1903 and because of that, my ex-girlfriend refused to leave and brought me here. The fact she was still alive had my mind buzzing with the urge to kill her, to get revenge for her leaving me. However, once I saw Belle... I couldn't do it.
"Malachai, what's your favourite colour?" She weirdly asked while she laid on my chest. We were both watching TV and Isabelle was wearing jean shorts she had cut herself and a peach, crop top I loved on her. Her hair was long and tied up, out of the way while she laid her head under my chin. And with every second, my heart beat faster. I could remember every inch of her body. Each freckle and blemish and mole was a picture upon the canvas of her skin.
"Is that a trick question?",
"Nope!" She said excitedly, popping the 'p'.
"Then why was it asked?",
"Because I wanted a reason to hear you voice".
God, she was glowing. That toothy smile, her pink lips, eleven nose, just her. It was mesmerising and she was perfect.
Until I opened my eyes. And she was there. She was staggering toward me, blood escaping from her neck and wrist. Drops of red hit the floor as the blood dyed the dress she was wearing. She looked half dead with that, her skin almost blue as she made fatigued steps toward me.
"Isabelle?" I called, to have her glazed eyes look up. If I had to, I would say she was death personified.
"Mal...?"
Then... Once my name had fallen from her parted lips, her body dropped to the floor, with her legs and arms sprawled out across the wood. Her head hit the ground with a sickening crack that had me bolting to her side. Isabelle was like a rag doll as I hoisted her in my arms and placed her down on the couch.
"Why don't I help with that?" A girls voice suddenly spoke up. And I turned to see a woman with curls of copper hair and a soft smile painting her sharp features.
"Who are you?" I questioned, not realising I'm holding Belle's hand tighter than before.
"Valerie Tulle, she saved me... So, I am going to save her".
