BloodRose

3. Kronos

*Several Decades Ago*

Nothing could be worse than this.

The wars had been unimaginable. Death had been earth shattering. Yet, somehow, this cursed half-life of torment after torment was worse. He was hunted. He was the hunter. He felt guilty. He rationalized. Not only were his senses heightened, but his emotions took on new depths that he had never even imagined. The slightest frustration made him furious. Instead of sadness, he felt immeasurable sorrow. The good times were great, but the bad times had become deep pits that he barely made it out of.

He had just decided that he would never escape, that he would have to find some way to end all the pain, when she came along. He had been drinking his endless tortures away when she found him, drowning his sorrows for too long to feel the hunger anymore. Instead of killing her like he normally would have, he told her everything. It was clear that she didn't believe him at first, but she didn't run either. She stayed with him, took care of him, her face coming in and out of focus amidst the curly, chocolate sea of her hair.

The next day, when he'd slept off the alcohol, he woke on a couch, covered with a blanket. Although he was puzzled, he knew he had to get out. The plan was to sneak away quietly, but there was only one exit and it led through the kitchen. Being as disoriented as he was, he didn't realize she was standing there until it was too late. Their eyes met. He couldn't force himself to turn away. He knew he needed to stay away from her, but her eyes ensnared him. The deepest, richest brown he had ever seen seemed to fill him like a warm drink. At the same time, it held an iron gaze, rooting him to the spot. This new, strange feeling spread through him and for the first time in thirty years, he found hope. Perhaps he could change. He wanted to change for her, for all the innocent people who found themselves unlucky enough to be standing near him at any given time. Perhaps there was still a light at the end of his endless tunnel.

It was a long time before he was completely open to her, but once he was, there was nothing that could separate them. They were like heat and cold, life and death, natural and supernatural. Different though they were, one could not exist without the other. He offered her immortality. She refused. She would love him as long as she could. He would love her for eternity. People would enter and leave her life and she would be the only person in his.

For 10 years, they were happy. For 10 years, Alias had all he wanted. Hannah was his light. Then, his world went dark.

Death mercilessly took someone priceless from this world, as it often does. If he could have hunted the cancer down and killed it, he would have. As it was, the feat was impossible and he attended the funeral instead. He sat in the back so no one could see the switch that had been flipped. Hannah had taught him mercy, but she didn't have the time to teach him how to grieve. He imagined this grief would involve many things he'd regret.

At the service, they talked of her life, a life he had lived with her, but they were so wrong about so many things. She wasn't a kind person to everyone. She knew that some needed tough love when others needed a hand to hold. He had experienced both at different times. She wasn't humorous and witty. In fact, she despised jokes. She never saw the point of saying something just to make someone laugh when words could be used for so much more impactful purposes. She didn't always light up the room. She wore no mask and you could feel her emotions in the air as if they were a wind or a chill.

He knew she deserved praise for her life--she'd helped so many people--but not like this, not false praise for things she didn't value. She deserved to live a thousand lifetimes more than him, yet it was he who had gotten this despised gift of immortality.

*Present*

For that was how he viewed it now. Along with so many other things, she had changed that about him. He was given the gift of life and he knew he had to use it to make the world a better place. Calliope Thistle was how he was trying to do that now. He had already succeeded with Kyle a few years back and now he could teach this girl. He would teach her. Even if she hated him at first. It was the only way to redeem himself. She had time to accept his advice and he had time to give it. In fact, it was the one thing either of them had presently. Time.

Alias watched her as she looked out the window, her hair pulled back from her face, her green eyes filled with ferocity. She reminded him of Hannah. She gave him hope. Even Kyle hadn't brought this much light into his world.

She noticed him staring and gave him a small glare. It seemed to be the only way she knew how to look at him. Alias didn't blame her either. He had killed her. It had been one of his three relapses since he had met Hannah in 1956. Each time he had thirsted for fresh blood--and gotten it--he had made sure to turn at least one person. It was the only way he could think to repay the world. When he took a life, he wanted to give one back. This time, the life he gave back was Calliope Jade Thistle.