Gothick

Chapter Forty-Four

The air already smelled of rot and decay. Leon wondered if it was just him, or the hundreds of untote surrounding the base of Daniel Tower, fresh from the cemetery. He watched them from the parapet, ambling about in the snow. Their desire for blood and flesh hung about them like a pungent aura. Broken teeth ground together as they waited. They knew something was coming. They knew because Leon knew.

Over the tower's pointed spires, Leon spotted a hulking figure run along the town's rooftops. Imari's black skin stood out against the pale world. Leon tensed at the sight of him. Imari leaped onto the side of Daniel Tower and climbed. It took less than a minute to haul himself over the edge. When he saw Leon, his brow creased.

"You have not fed," he said.

"Yes," Leon said, lifting a hand to his sunken skull. The black spots on his face burned beneath his touch. How long ago had he last fed? All time seemed to have stopped since Balthazar's passing. Nothing seemed to matter as much as it once had, not even his life. In fact, he half wished for death-for the black magick which sustained him to take its toll and deliver him back into darkness. But as he told Emily, that wouldn't do.

"I will get you someone to feed upon," Imari said, turning to go.

"Yes," Leon repeated. "Wait." He heard the man's heavy footsteps stop. "What do you think of the nature of evil?"

There was thick silence between the two. Leon hoped Imari didn't have an answer. It would be easier to not have his fears confirmed.

"I have seen evil take many forms," Imari said. "Men seeking power over other men, men killing in the name of their God-"

"And what of men killing for vengeance under the guise of revolution?"

Again, silence followed. Leon felt Imari's eyes on the back of his head, but he couldn't face them. To see the shame in his eyes.

"I do not understand," Imari said. Leon snickered, though more to his own thoughts than to the man's response.

"Men who do evil in the name of good. That's the worst of the lot. That's the Majesty, and that is me. We are the most wicked of them all."

"Perhaps," Imari said. "I suppose you are right. You saw the evil which consumed my home. The invaders who came and took my people. Auctioned them off like cattle, slaughtered them. I suffered with them, but you ended that. That is not the choice of a wicked man."

Leon nodded, a half-grin on his face.

"Thank you," he said. Imari bowed behind him, and let himself out, leaving Leon alone once again.

The air was thick. With each inhale, Leon felt as though he would drown. When had the world become so heavy? He wished he could go back to the very beginning. Before the Gothicks, before his transformation. When he was that confused girl. His heart ached for his lost love; something that hadn't happened for at least thirty years. For so long, it had been cold and unyielding.

"Führer? You requested blood?"

Leon turned to find one of the homeless young men standing there. Imari stood behind him in the shadow of the tower's entrance. The boy could have been no more than fourteen with sandy hair. He shivered, holding his arms close to his body.

"You are the one to give it to me?" Leon asked. The boy nodded, the action nearly lost in the shivering. Leon glided to him, and grabbed his chin lightly. The boy stared up with large hazel eyes. Terrified eyes. It was a look Leon had seen before.

Leon sank his fangs into the child's neck, letting the warm taste of iron pour over his tongue. The lifeblood flowed into Leon, strengthening him. Black sores on his face vanished, and his sunken skull filled out once more. With each sip, strength flowed throughout his body. No longer weak.