The Beau & the Beast

50 - A Silver Dagger

-Clockaworth-

I woke up with a jerk, again. Same thing every night and the dreams just felt more and more real, I hated them.

I got out of bed, the cold sweat and sheets sticking to my body. Something was different.
The last few nights I fell back into memories that I once experienced but pushed aside a long time ago.

Large battlefields with muskets firing in all directions, friends dying around me.  Screams of fear, panic and pain haunted me.

I rubbed my eyes hard with my palms and looked around. Their faces were finally gone but the room was too quiet.
With a sigh I went to the window to let in some cool night air.

I did not dream ordinary dreams, they were always memories and they hurt so damn much.
Memories of everyone I killed, several hundred pairs of eyes staring accusingly at me.

I dreamed of the French Revolution and remembered all the poor people who fought over bread crumbs.  People I lived with who starved to death before my eyes.  The world was so full of hate and pain.

All the fond memories, happy memories were eaten up by war, anxiety and death and everything came back to me at night.

It struck me that Anthony's powers were getting stronger. It was as if the feelings became more intense and the anxiety got worse.  As if their dead souls were hovering around me and demanding my attention.

I poured a glass of whiskey which I swept in one go before pouring another.
I struggled and had a hard time controlling myself.
Lu noticed it but he said nothing. Belmont noticed it too and I saw the worry in his eyes.

I noticed how everyone else avoided me, my mood had gotten worse lately.  Maybe because I used my new abilities more often.  I was hoping they thought I was excited for the weekend, our grand coup, because how could I ever tell the truth?  That I was completely out of my mind. Crazy. Mentally ill.

I laughed quietly to myself.  Who wants a leader who has a head full of voices.

The laughter turned into an anxious grimace, I was completely taken aback by whether we won or not.  I had my own plans, things I had to do before I drove myself crazy.

At first I had told myself that it was all in my imagination, but soon I had realised that Belmont's fears were justified.
Anthony remained inside me, around me like a persistent voice that grabbed my attention.

Fuck, I thought vampires flew straight to hell, I grinned to myself.  But apparently he had things to do before moving on to partying with the devil.
The thought somehow felt reassuring that we were still around after our death.

With a tender look I glanced at Belmont in bed, he slept so peacefully and I wished with all my heart that he could avoid more death and hatred.

At least now Gaston was gone.
By the time Bel got out of the basement, Dominic had gone downstairs to make sure he was really dead.
I would be damn surprised if he came back from the dead without a head, I muttered to myself.

But Belmont deserved better than that, a new life like the one we had in New York, before this shit chased us back here.
There must be a place where no one could find us, I sighed and swept another glass.

Finally I crawled into bed next to him again and hurried closer.
His eyelids fluttered and he mumbled something inaudible before putting his arms around me.

It was the small, small things he did that made peace spread within me. He was like a drug.

I sighed tired, if he only knew what I was planning, he would hate me.