Children of The Fallen

Chapter 38: let me tell you a little story

TW: mention of SA

Victoria Brooks

I gave Morgan the night off. Normally we finish around 3am but tonight it was a little before 8pm. Morgan had a rough day having to watch and participate in the torture of a vampire that was found to be associated with the hunters. I wanted to shower and sleep afterwards, except I couldn't get myself sleep tonight. My sleep has been sounder since explaining myself to her but not at all comfortable. Not when I can hear her faint cries and not when the spot next to me on the bed feels more empty than usual with Pierce down the hall. Tonight I think the horrified look on Morgans face throughout the torture is what is keeping me awake.

My eyes shoot open when I hear light footsteps flying down the hall. I get out of bed and run towards them only to see Morgan sliding out of the one back door we went out of the first time I took her to a bleeder den two months ago. Fuck.

I sprint, grabbing the closest pair of shoes and put them on as fast as possible. I go after her but she's not running, which I find to be an odd behavior for someone who's trying to escape. Out of pure curiosity I decide to follow her.

Hands in pockets and hood now up, she continues walking slowly. For the next hour I trail her until she arrives at the side of a house. I know this house.

She walks down the slight hill. I take a step, intending to grab her and bring her back to my city but she stops midway down. She sits down on the grass next to a tree, leaning her forearms on her knees. She just sits there staring at this house in silence. There's a fairly large window on the side of the house, allowing an open view into their kitchen seating area. About a minute later someone flips a light on in the kitchen. It's only around 10:00pm. "Do you want vanilla or cookie dough, or I think we might have mint chocolate chip too?" I hear a young boys voice. Chris.

"I don't want toothpaste flavored ice cream." A young girls voice comments. Lindsey.

"Mint chocolate chip is great, I thought I raised you better than that?" An older man responds. Her father, Will.

I hear the sound of a freezer drawer sliding open and some rustling. "It's like half empty."

"The mint chocolate chip?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me, I'll split it with your mother."

I turn my focus to Morgan. Overhearing her stifled sobs and low sniffles as she watches and listens in to her old life. Her old family, her old self, everything she's going to have to leave behind.

I watch her watch them until her parents call it a night and go upstairs leaving her siblings to bicker over what to watch on the tv. Morgan then stands up, wipes away whatever tears remain, and begins trudging away. Once more I follow her to ensure she's not trying to run away. She doesn't. Instead she makes her way back to my city, into my palace, and into her room taking the same route. My mistake for keeping that specific back entrance only lightly guarded.

I head back to my room and lay back down in my bed to stare up at my bedroom ceiling.

She goes out at night to visit her family.

How often does she do that? Has she spoken to them at all? A thousand questions form in my mind about her in attempt to distract myself from thinking about what my brains trying to force me to think about. Tears annoyingly begin to form in my eyes. They start to pool, spilling over the edge sliding down into my hairline and ears.