Night.
The time when the darkness rules, in more than one form.
It's become his escape, the darkness of night. A shroud for the darkness of his own life, a respite from the pain of loss, of so many things.
And there is no shortage of evils here to direct that pain and rage upon.
He'd already made a collection of vampires, capturing them with the ease of demonically enhanced power and muscle. All of them seemed so surprised that a mere human could subdue and imprison them, burying them beneath the earth where the suffering and death they brought to others would be repaid as they spent eternity down where no one could hear them, where only he would know or care to find them.
It eased some of the pain.
This evening he sits under a tree, on the shore of the Glen's lake, the sunset casting colors like warm fire on his bronzed, shirtless chest and lighting up the sunbleached blond of his hair. Not happy, not content, but close to it. He's always liked being near the water - even before the mess his life had become, there was something soothing about it.
And, for the first time in many moons, thinking of something other than the faces of the family he had lost.
A dark, thick fall of hair framing ivory skin, the kind that practically begs you to run your fingers through its waves. Dark, warm eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. Soft, full pink lips just waiting to be kissed. The luscious, smooth curves that made his hands tremble at the thought of following them.
And the voice. Sweet, soft southern charm that reminds him of home in a way that doesn't hurt.
And something else there, too. Something vague, shadowy, a purpose and power that she holds secret.
He leans back against the tree he sits under, his hands coming up to interlace behind his head, a slight smile crossing his face.
For just that moment, he's not the demonically twisted, vengeance driven monster, but just Talbot, a man touched by beauty.
The time when the darkness rules, in more than one form.
It's become his escape, the darkness of night. A shroud for the darkness of his own life, a respite from the pain of loss, of so many things.
And there is no shortage of evils here to direct that pain and rage upon.
He'd already made a collection of vampires, capturing them with the ease of demonically enhanced power and muscle. All of them seemed so surprised that a mere human could subdue and imprison them, burying them beneath the earth where the suffering and death they brought to others would be repaid as they spent eternity down where no one could hear them, where only he would know or care to find them.
It eased some of the pain.
This evening he sits under a tree, on the shore of the Glen's lake, the sunset casting colors like warm fire on his bronzed, shirtless chest and lighting up the sunbleached blond of his hair. Not happy, not content, but close to it. He's always liked being near the water - even before the mess his life had become, there was something soothing about it.
And, for the first time in many moons, thinking of something other than the faces of the family he had lost.
A dark, thick fall of hair framing ivory skin, the kind that practically begs you to run your fingers through its waves. Dark, warm eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. Soft, full pink lips just waiting to be kissed. The luscious, smooth curves that made his hands tremble at the thought of following them.
And the voice. Sweet, soft southern charm that reminds him of home in a way that doesn't hurt.
And something else there, too. Something vague, shadowy, a purpose and power that she holds secret.
He leans back against the tree he sits under, his hands coming up to interlace behind his head, a slight smile crossing his face.
For just that moment, he's not the demonically twisted, vengeance driven monster, but just Talbot, a man touched by beauty.