Seer 3: Fallen

The Definition of Always

Blood, sticky and warm, running off in a sluggish stream from clawed fingers braced flat on a crumbling brick wall down cold arms. Shaking from adrenaline.
Gradually congealing and drying out on my chin and lips where it spilled over and escaped the hungry, saturated mouth of fangs.

I begged it all to be a dream. That the four corpses strewn about the abandoned farm house were just my imagination. A premonition maybe. But it was all too real. And I enjoyed it all too well up until now.
Four people. Hunters. My people.
Slaughtered and drained like cattle.

And they weren't amateurs. They fought valiantly. So sure that when a single vampire came upon them, that they would win. But they were dead wrong.

"It gets easier," the deep voice of my dark master assured from the doorway.

"Why...why did you make me do this?" I whispered shakily, more blood sliding down my throat and making it difficult to feel bad when I felt so good.

"They were attempting to muck up a major branch of my operation," the Alpha replied nonchalantly, "I wasn't keen on taking the time rebuilding it, if they succeeded."

I shook my head bitterly, still unmoving from the wall, as my claws finally recoiled back into nails.
"So you sent me..."

"My pride and joy. My most terrible and beautiful weapon," he confirmed with a cold delight, footsteps drawing closer. "You knew I would call on you."

"Not so soon..." I muttered, chilled by the eerie fingers trailing over the back of my head before I turned to him. "I will never come back from this..."

He smirked softly. Proudly.
"No, you wont. As was the point. Consider this...an initiation. When I feel you are ready to cast aside your humanity, you will take your place with me."

"That wasn't part of the deal," I snarled defiantly.

He abruptly took hold of my bloody throat and held me agaisnt the wall effortlessly. "I make the rules, little girl. I agreed you could have the cure, and turn back at any time. But you wont want to," he sneered darkly, "Not when I'm done with you."

"I will find a way to resist you," I hissed with rebellious confidence, "you don't own me."

He chuckled, releasing me from his grasp. "Believe that, if you wish."

☆☆☆☆☆

Just after dark, on the roof of the bunker, I'd been unwillingly urged to join Castiel for my training. For a week I'd been haunted by what I'd done, and avoiding him and brothers alike. I didn't think it possible to feel worse than I already did, but I was superbly shut down from everyone and everything.

My nosy brothers had noticed, and implored Cas to leave his search for Cain to come back to me. As if that would help. His face was just as haunting as anything else. Sitting cross-legged in front of each other was tortuous.
"Now what?" I sighed out unenthused.

"We're going to find out what you can see, or feel, about the Mark of Cain," he answered plainly, "without touching it."

"Oh..." I breathed disgruntled, "So we're going for a migraine. Awesome."

He wasn't amused with my bitter sarcasm. "Just focus," he said quietly, motioning my eyes to close, just barely out of reach from touching them.

I huffed in irritated submission, and did as I was told. As I seemed to be doing alot of lately.

I first pictured the symbol itself in my mind. It wavered and vibrated with a discomfort I felt in my soul. The real world began to fall away to my senses as I plunged into a meditation. The Mark rippled and faded, giving breath to a new image. A painful one. I watched two men, from an ancient time, face each other with sad hearts. Cain and Abel.