FicWad

One
The monster’s haunting gaze passed around the room, as she stood silently in the back of the club. The hunter, stalking it’s pray. The pray completely unaware of what watched from the shadows. Four college frat boys she assumed to be wasted by this point. But she had to be sure.
Finally, she locked eyes with one, and she was sure at least this one wouldn’t pass a sobriety test. As she began to walk towards him into the light she felt a hand grip her wrist. But not so tight to where she felt physical pain. No, she hasn’t felt this in a long time. “Donovan.” she exclaimed over the noise.
“Lydia, it’s time to go!” He said attempting to overpower her with his gaze like she did. But the only card he held against her was strength, and barely. She also knew in intelligence he lacked, intelligence happened to be her advantage. She didn’t want to make a scene though, the club packed full of the drunk and damned. The smell of B.O and vomit over powered the room. Her pray had already been spooked by Donovan’s sudden and over bearing appearance anyway so she followed him through the crowd.
As they pushed their way out the door, one of the bouncers went to intervene Donovan’s grip. Lydia was a regular and he knew this wasn’t the usual time she left. But she gave him a friendly smile as they passed by, keeping up with Donovan’s fast pace. Her legs weren’t very long so she had difficulty keeping up with his long stride. Though she managed at almost a jog.
After a block or two Lydia grew tired, even beasts need to rest. “Donovan please slow down. I can’t keep up with you at this pace.” She wined. But he was not in the mood for her childishness.
“You know they can’t wait forever. We’re already an hour late. Keep moving and stop complaining.”
“But why do we need to keep running like this?” she continued, knowing the answer but wanting to torcher him a little for making her walk so fast.
“If only you didn’t drag out your quest for mortal pleasure until the last minute we wouldn’t be running so fast.” He completely ignored her real question.
“At least tell me why we can’t just stay here for once. I’m tired of running. And you know what I mean.” She slowed down a little, and even he needed to catch his breath.
“You know why we can’t stay. You know what will happen if we stay. If you spent less time asking questions we would be walking up through the door by now.” His answer was brisk as he tried not to give in to her pushing.
She took a breath and launched forward, pulling him from the random stoop he sat on almost causing him to fall forward. If he wasn’t as agile as he was, she was sure he would have landed on his face. They ran forward three more blocks until they came upon an alley where two white vans sat with their lights on. The lights flashed as the two approached.
“I’m sure Isis will have something to say over how late you are.” She chuckled. His sweet Isis, how she tortured him with her love and beauty. Sometimes Lydia envied this.
“Let’s go. We need to make it to Virginia by sunrise!” Ravan was impatient, but his voice was not spiteful like Donovan’s. They hopped into the van, no sooner Isis began to drill Donovan.
“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you!” She shrieked as they entered the van.
“What do you mean we’ve been worried?” Amon snickered.
“For fuck sake, blame hot pants over here. I found her trying to score one more before we hit the road.” He always spoke softly to her and only her. He flung himself next to her in the back seat attempting to cuddle and make up quickly, trying to avoid the inevitable fight that would come. But not yet, she was satisfied with a simple glare towards Lydia.
This only added to Lydia’s amusement. Kiss ass, she thought to herself. Only Donovan would be so quick to throw one of his own under the bus. They soon made up as always, and proceeded to slide their tongues into each other’s mouths. Donovan’s one and only move to silence Isis’s fury. Ravan shook his head as he held Gaia’s hand tighter. He was grateful she didn’t put him through so much trouble.
As Ravan drove onto the freeway, and the van became silent, Lydia’s mind began to drift to the answer of the question she asked earlier. She did know the answers, she just loved being a pain when inconvenienced, especially when the recipient was Donovan. Lydia would never forget the night they found her half dead. Donovan knew she was one of their kind the moment he saw her. And although none of them had the answer to exactly what they were, the word most commonly used was demon.
They were not alone as there were many other groups (or families, as they were called) just like them. One family, wished to wipe them out. Most of the other demons would destroy another if they weren’t from the same family in the blink of an eye, but this family was ages old and larger than Donovan or the rest of the group could comprehend. They didn’t like the smaller, “impure” families (as they put it). They considered Donovan’s family a particular nuisance and always went to great lengths to wipe them away with the sands of time.
That’s why they were constantly on the run. Lydia hated this feeling. She already had no memory prior to being saved by Donovan, the only one out of the family with no memory. As much as they bounced around, she never had any time to make any. This is why she sook out the love of mortals, even if it was only for a night. Among their kind this was considered a taboo act. Besides the ecstasy of sexual release, Lydia drew power from their lust for her. Compared to the others Lydia was average in appearance, to any mortal she looked as if she was a goddess. Anyone who met with her gaze would immediately bow in her unhuman presence and give in to her every wish. She fed off this, their desire.
“Lydia, are you hungry?” Preta tapped Lydia on the leg. She awoke to Ronald McDonald the clown staring her straight in the face and this startled her causing her to jump. Preta laughed as she hopped out of the van.
“Are we really going to eat this shit.” Lydia groaned.
“Cheer up butter cup!” Preta put her arm around her friend.
“If it’s not to your liking you can go without. In my time the punishment for harlots was much worse.” Isis said grimly to Lydia. Lydia was hungry and knowing she was already on Isis’s bad side this morning met her with no reply. Preta patted her in reassurance that a full belly was well worth it, even if it was disgusting processed food.
At the table, they received many stares, a large group of inhumanly beautiful people gathering at a McDonalds in Wytheville Virginia at 6 a.m., nothing suspicious. Donovan and Ravan quietly discussed the safest routes as Amon, Valac, and Ore discuss possible leads that the Saleos were onto them or any other families. Since the family was small their equipment was humble but they were resourceful with what they had and usually stayed a step or two ahead. But that always changed so quickly, always too quickly for Lydia.
“Belle, what was your Christian name?” Preta said with a mouthful of hash brown. Lydia was always fascinated by her random questions that usually broke the uncomfortable silence between them.
“Well I was not Christian; therefore, I do not have a Christian name. But my people knew me the name Batibat. Well to most, even long ago that name sounded strange and unusual. A friend I had suck refuge with in France, he gave this name to me. He said it was more fitting.” Belle looked out the window, flying through time to remember a lost face.
“What was his name?” Preta asked, not seeing the pain on Belle’s face.
“Arthur.” She replied. By the sadness in her voice Preta finally picked up this was a sensitive subject for Belle. But still her curious mind pressed on. “How did he die?”
Belle sighed, she was used to Preta’s curious nature but also love to reminisce on the sadness of her past. “I’m not sure. The Nazi’s took him from the bed we slept in when they invaded France. I was lucky enough to escape but I never saw my sweet Arthur again.”
Lydia grew tired of Belle’s pity party. “Tell her how he was a mortal.” She sneered.
“You bite your tongue, Lydia. I’m in no mood for your hypocrisy this morning.” Belle hissed back.
Donovan did not even need to speak for his family to know when he wanted their attention. When angered, his energy could practically radiate through walls miles away. Lydia and Belle looked into his eyes it was like at atom bomb was silently dropped at their table. They saw that he’d had enough of their bickering, they were immediately hushed before another word could be spoken. Donovan was an alpha by nature.
While the family was loading into the vans, Isis barked out the new seating arrangements she had thought of, separating Lydia and Belle. Donovan began to protest but she playfully reminded him of the fact she was older than him. “Only by a few thousand years.” Was his only argument as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the van.
Ren hummed softly behind Belle which annoyed her. If it wasn’t for the fact she was even younger than Preta, it wouldn’t have gone on as long as it had. It seemed like an endless song, Lydia thought she performed too often.
But today she wasn’t bothered by her song. Isis’s harsh words were replaying in her head. Though Isis was known for her kindness and beauty, she was harsh and full of hate. She wasn’t who mortals portrayed her as in their stories. She was the caring, mother figure to the family but to Lydia’s knowledge she had no compassion for mortals. She at least never showed any, which is why Lydia and Isis often clashed. Like mothers and daughters do. It was because of this Lydia sook out her father’s understanding and approval, Donovan. It was rarely welcomed to Donovan though he never spoke ill of mortals.
The midday sun beat down onto the vans flying down the highway. There were enough of them to drive nonstop to their destinations which they took advantage of. Preta and Ren looked too young to drive still. It would take them a few hundred years at least to age up enough in appearance. Appearance was the only way a demon aged. They aged much slower than mortals, and eventually the demon would stop aging, at no set age. Some were unfortunate enough to not age past a child’s face but this was very rare.
Sometimes Preta was suspected of this ailment but no one spoke on it. Both her and Ren were still very young, it was guilt from the atrocities a demon preformed upon the human race that aged them. Or at least this was the theory. And because Isis aged so little and stayed so beautiful, it only added to Lydia’s contempt for her. But what Preta and Ren preformed was simply mischief compared to the others. The others could be credited with disasters such as the earth quake followed by fire that ravaged San Francisco in 1906, the floods of China in 1931, the Soviet famine, the Irish famine. If something took mass lives from the human world, demons were likely involved.
All this death takes a toll on a demon, even if they were only mortals. Century after century of disaster. Even a monster could only take so much. This is what they were programed to do. After all, demons aren’t nice, their reputations aren’t built up from acts of kindness and generosity. They weren’t the saints and heroes of stories, they were the evil villains. Their exitance, their purpose, was for sorrow and destruction, nothing more.