New Enoch….A home for those searching.
But I was not.
It was her face that had brought me there, and her kind accepting touch in which lay my head upon a pillow. Despite the touches, the looks and the lust, I believe in my heart, that woman and I were not fated for one another. Dead City was a thrust of life for me, something I knew I had to do to run away from the fated time line I was so desprately trying to escape. It just so happened that I fit in a bit better than even the most stereotypical being that ran around the dark, blood stained streets. I had found myself amoung company in which I could barely keep up with. It was like one thousand electro connections synthesizing in my brain, so fast as the people kept coming; smiling abundant faces and kind words. But I suppose in the end, nothing would compare to the woman who stemmed a relationship, just by showing up to see “How “I had settled in”.
I don’t believe I had ever been so excited to see a woman, and although to this day I don’t think I understood what the emotion was, looking back I now understand it was what one considered a crush. I was upon the roof that eve, partaking in a smoke or something of the sort, when the noise of an able body eminated from the bushes below. People come and go in this day and age, and I knew although I hadn’t made the best of aquaintences with her, she was going to keep coming back. In honesty, her interest surprised me.
My brain does not work, for I know exactly how I make myself function. Because of this, I should not retain memories… But even still if I close my eye, hiding the sapphire from the world, I have the perfect work of art in my head. She wore coal pants and a black shirt that separated down the side to allow the name of her son to show willingly. Ah- A Son. I suppose I did never meet the fellow… Elias was his name, and upon her hands were tattoos that read certain ambiagrams either way.
Thinking about it hard enough, it didn’t take long for us to aquaint one another. A few slips of Absinthe, and we were holding one another for company. It was when we touched that I had realized I had to have her. She did not flinch, and took openly the odd things that spilled from my fingers. I smile when I still allow this memory to hinder me. I still had red hair then.
It was when New Enoch took it’s downturn, and The Lady of the House surrendered her seat that I had no reason to roam the halls. I had vowed my faithfulness to her, and I still hold that promise close, but when she left, I had nothing within that place, I wasn’t ever a Malkavian. Hell, I am not even a Vampire.
Part of me just wanted to be alone. I had promises to keep and duties to fufill. But her presence beckoned me once more, and I was soon led to Villa Fidei. We saw each other often, but that day she willed me into her home, and her Family, I was finally close to a woman I knew I was falling for. I guess in a sense, I am nothing but human in that aspect. A Dullahan is not a being of love and grace, we have been created for one soul purpose, to kill those who must die, and even those who must not. It is how the world turns. I was foolish to let love slip into my soul. I even forgot about Etni. All of the meaningless nights of love with women that soon died beneath me was mere history, as even these words I speak to you. I now had a place and yet again a purpose, willing to drop everything to win her heart. What happened after I did was a succession of the happiest days of my life. But remember, my life never stops, and eternity can never be truly Blissful.
Never did I understand that she felt we were born to be with one another. Ayden McCoyy Callister was never born anyhow, just a manifested amount of energy that stole the face of some lucky bastard he envied. If you want to think of it this way, I am two people. A Dullahan, and a man. I am only human sometimes. And when my blood wills me fourth, the harbringer of Death.
Now I am staring down a deed, and wiping my face of the most threatening ink to ever wash over skin. I don’t think I’ll ever cry, and I feel as though I can never love again. Why she left all of this to me, is of unmentionable proportion. I did not know, and to be left in the wake of such a defiled house is the epitome of a dreaded nightmare. I understand this is my home, and it was her home, her dream, so somehow I’ll allow this to be my soul, and my life…. I didn’t even get to marry her…
Maybe I’’ll have red hair again……
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