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Resemblance of Normality November 26th, 1970
Max was in deep mourning; it was written all over his face.
Jan looked sideways at his son while they watched the new arrival out of the living room window, taking note of the strange angle Maximilian held his jaw, a little too high and proud to be normal. And his hands were clasped rigidly behind his back, almost as if he didnt want to betray the fact they were shaking.
The father wasnt feeling particularly well himself. Elizabet may not have been the love of his life, if such a foolish thing existed, but she was still the mother of his boys, the woman hed chosen to settle down with, his partner in domesticity. And she was gone, murdered. That damn Hawthorne had done his job well and it was hard to tell which of the two Vasiles had witnessed the worst. Max, staring down in horror while the killer crouched over his dead mother, her blood seeping into the carpets. Or Jan, who had to bury what was left after the vampire hunter had comp
Poor Unfortunate Soul November 2nd, 1928
Here, she said, pulling out a long red ribbon from a drawer in her wardrobe, this might do.
Jan wrinkled his nose slightly but did not dare criticise the gift in case she slapped him for ungratefulness. The only sound he made was a small, reserved sigh of unhappiness as he stared at his own reflection in her ornate mirror. His hair had grown so long, past his shoulders even and he did not like it one little bit. If it got any longer he would start to look like a little girl.
Lilith ran her fingers through Jans hair, her nails scratching slightly at his delicate scalp as she gathered up the long strands and tied the red ribbon in place.
There now, she smirked behind him, leaning in so her head rested on his shoulder, staring at their opposites in the glass, dont you look ever so pretty?
Im not supposed to be pretty, he told her, unable to meet her eyes in the reflection. He kept his
Songbirds Silenced July 1941
He had just been settling down with his cigar and a few beers when of course the front door rang. He pointedly ignored it, taking a long drag before puffing out the smoke with a pleasant smile, extremely pleased with himself. He let Klara answer the door, because she did very little for everything he was paying her and he settled himself instead, mentally replaying the rather wonderful little conversation hed had with Officer Kleist. It had gone really quite well and if everything turned how he wanted it to then it would ensure his family spent the rest of the war in relative comfort; not that it would last much longer, not with someone like Hitler at the helm.
Unfortunately, silly Klara obviously wasnt capable of even answering the door properly for a few moments later she came in, wringing her hands in her little nervous way and stuttering, Sir, there is a man wishing to see you. He claims to be your brother.
Mikhail glared at her, cursing to
The CouncilWhen the last blood thirsty well-wisher had made their farewell, asking Alexander once again to show his fangs much to his humiliation, a select few retreated into the kitchen and locked the door behind them. Maximilian sat at the head of the kitchen table, his chin resting on one knuckle and his eyes thoughtful, beckoning his son to sit beside him.
Alexander did as he was told, wondering why only a few of the party guests had transformed into something else entirely. He stared as their merry dispositions became severe and calculating as they all took their places around the table. Only Dmitri stood, but he too became quite cold and stern, running his hands along the top of the fridge, down its hinges, under the countertops, peering into cupboards, barking at a few to move out of his way so he could inspect the underside of their chairs. Alexander watched his uncles movements with fascination, wondering what the man could have possibly been up to.
It was practically impossible fo
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