Pitch Black

Ever since people had realized we were together, Xavier and I had been given more looks and many rumors were circulating behind our backs. The previous weekends, we had gone to the church, which he said made his back burn even more, but he endured it and prayed anyway. I of course had been to church before and thought that the services were boring, but Xavier thought they were very interesting and hung on every word the pastor said. He had even gotten himself a bible, which gave his hands a very uncomfortable burning sensation, but he read it anyway. He had a strong desire to be baptized as well, but that would kill him, so he promised himself that he would once he was forgiven. Though his hands looked blistered and red every time I saw him, and he cringed often from the burning in his back, he had a new outlook on life and adopted Christian ways and thinking, believing that his pain was a blessing and God's sign that he was still alive. I couldn't be more proud of him. He looked rather nice in white.

The day had finally come for Xavier and I to leave the school. Our train was boarding at 3:25 am and was about 55 minutes away from the school on foot, so we left the school at 2:00, carrying suitcases full of our things. We journeyed talking about the many changes Xavier was going through, and his newfound interest in religion.

"I wish I had been able to go to Heaven beforehand." He said. "I was always told that it would just make my suffering greater, but it's really so much better than Hell. I was so very corrupted, but now I see."

We reached the Huntington train station at around 3:10. The train was nearly empty of passengers because it was so early. Xavier's back was burning horribly, and any one of the passengers could be a council spy, so we found the most isolated compartment we could find. Once we got there, Xavier immediately closed the curtain over the door, took a black towel from the carry-on suitcase he brought in with him, tore his jacket off, took off his shirt, and reached into his pocket. He took out a very sharp knife, and gave it to me. The tattoo was glowing such a fierce red, and the smell of burning flesh wafted into the compartment. There were already scars on his back from where I had already sliced it, so I could only imagine the pain he was in.

"Hurry, cut it," He said cringing and turning around. He cursed a many string of profanities, gripping the metal rail underneath the window. Hesitantly, I put the knife to his back and pressed down, dragging it up one of the hands that encircled the flame. A steady stream of dark red blood ran down his back. I quickly grabbed the towel and dabbed at the blood so it wouldn't travel down to his trousers and stain them. The intensity of the glowing from the tattoo went down slightly. I repeated the process until the glowing was dulled considerably, and Xavier's back was covered in a red sheet. I dabbed at his back as gently as could to remove the blood. He was trembling from the pain, but now it was from the many cuts on his back as well as as light burning. It pained me to do this to him, but at least now the Society members tracking us down were thrown off.

Xavier sighed when I was done patting his back free of most of the blood. He let go of the railing, and I saw that he had left a very prominant dent in it from gripping it so hard. I went into his suitcase and took out a roll of bandages and cream for the cuts, which I began to slather on his back.

"Thank you." He said.

"No thanks needed. Are you alright?"

"As alright as I'll be for now." He said. I began to wind the bandages around his torso to cover his back. "We'll need to keep on doing this for the next hour until we get to the mansion."

I sighed heavily, and finished wrapping up his back. He gingerly put his shirt back on, and sat down, careful not to lean on the seat too much. I put everything back in his suitcase and sat next to him, distraught with the feeling I usually got when I had to slice open his back.

Xavier knew the look in my face well. "I'm sorry for putting you through this." He said.

"Don't be. I said I'd be here for you and I am, and I will be."

He sported that familiar smile that I used to hate so much. That seemed like an eternity ago. "I love you, Jack, I do. And it's rare of me to say that. You're the first human I've ever really felt that for, in any way."

I looked down at my hands and smiled. "Well I thing it's safe to say I love you too, Xavier." Wow. I hadn't said that to anyone but Lynn. It felt... oddly refreshing and deeply meaningful, though if one told me I would be saying that to Xavier Belial when I first met him, I would have thought they were extremely insane. He put a hand over mine and kissed me tenderly.

"Have you been reading lately?" He asked. "Moon and Light, I mean."

I shook my head. "I've felt no need to. I don't want to read the fate of my lover. I'll find it out soon enough, I expect."

He patted my hand understandingly, and changed the subject. "You must be tired, Jack. I know I am. Let's rest up a bit, yeah? We'll both feel better in all this tense atmosphere, go take the seat over there."

I then realized I was quite tired then, and did as he told, using my jacket as a blanket. He did the same and smiled at me before going to sleep.

The pitter-patter of early-morning summer rain, the gentle rocking motions of the train and the warmth of the summer day was enough to lull me into a gentle, dreamless sleep. It was welcomed, as I had gotten up three hours earlier than my usual waking time. My poor mother and father would have my head when they discovered I had left the school earlier than I should have and had gone missing, but I was ready to take any punishment they would give me. For now, I was with Xavier, and nothing mattered.

I awoke from my slumber to a violent jolt from the train and blood-curdling screaming. The train lights flickered and went out, and the sky outside was dark and rain was hitting the window hard. Xavier was over on his seat, from what I could see in the darkness writhing in pain and screaming a sound I had never heard before in my life. A scream that made my heart race and chilled my blood, a scream of excruciating pain. He was trying to rip his shirt off of him, and in the process he was changing from his human to his true form, his nails biting into his skin as he struggled. The smell of burning flesh and cloth was filling the compartment stronger now, and a bright glow was emanating from his back. He thrashed about, ripping his seat as well in the process. He threw himself at his suitcase on the floor in the process and took out the stained knife.

I dove at him and ripped it from his grip, accidentally scorching my arm when it made contact with his tattoo. He looked at me with eyes ringed with red and teeth sharp and elongated. He was breathing heavily, going between both his forms, crying out desperately. His tattoo was thrown out in high relief now, every detail prominent as it set fire to his skin. The train wasn't moving, and the conductor's voice rang out that something had stopped it and the problem was trying to be resolved.

Xavier's screams died down, and he crumpled down to a heap on the ground, sobbing violently. "They're here," he said, shaking. "They're outside the train."

The sky outside the window got darker, and inhumane noises were being heard from outside. Something kept crashing endlessly into the side of the train with hard force. I went out to the window and wiped the fog off of it.

I could see through the rain that we were on a train bridge, running over a large lake.

The train, with each hit, kept creaking. Soon the train would tip. Right into the lake.

I went back over to Xavier and turned him over, putting the knife to his back and ripping it across the tattoo. He screamed in pain each time, and the glowing from his tattoo didn't go down. I kept cutting his back until it was a bloody, mangled mess, and he was shaking and weak with crying and I felt a warm liquid drip off the sides of his back and onto my legs, hands, and on the floor. The something ramming itself into the train wouldn't stop. I put the knife down, hopeless, and took Xavier in my arms, certain that we were both going to die.

And then, an inhuman noise came close. In fact, right up to the window of our compartment. I kept my head down, too frightened to look, and Xavier had gone quiet. I heard tapping on the window, and a blood-chilling hissing sound. The banging on the train stopped. Everything inside the train went quiet.

And then, the noises and tapping stopped. The train was revved into life again, began to move, and the lights flickered back on. The conductor's voice rang for people not to panic, because the threat was over and everything was fine. We would be in Yorkshire in thirty minutes. Xavier was in my arms, limp, and his tattoo was glowing very dully. We were both in a large puddle of his blood, and it had stained the entirety of our clothes. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open.

Alarmed, I put a hand over his heart. Thankfully, he was still alive. The pain and blood loss must have rendered him unconscious, for his skin was extremely pale. As quickly as I could, I put the cream over his back once again, wrapped him up, and set him down on the ripped up seat. I set to work mopping up the blood from the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I could soon see a town that indicated we were near Yorkshire. I went over to Xavier and shook him gently awake.

"Wake up, Xavier." I said softly. "We're here."

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around. "A-are we dead?"

I chuckled. "No. We're in Yorkshire. Get your things."

He got up slowly, wincing at the pain on his back. I threw him my jacket since his shirt was torn and bloody, and took up both our suitcases. The train stopped with a gentle hiss and the blow of the whistle, and we exited to get our suitcases. He was extremely confused, and as he led the way to his mansion, he asked many questions.

"What was going on? Did I black out? What happened?"

The train was stopped," I explained. "the lights went out, and something was ramming into the train. Your tattoo was burning up your back and I had to keep cutting it, it was horrid. You tried to tear your own shirt off and kept ripping yourself up in the process. The train almost tipped out into the lake. One of the Society members even looked through the window, but oddly... they left, and the train kept on running as normal. You blacked out because of so much blood loss and the pain. You were screaming like you were still in Hell."

"I nearly was." he said bitterly. He was silent for a moment, thinking. "Either two things happened. You drained so much blood that the Society member could no longer sense I was in the train, or he was repelled by something."

"What could he be repelled by?"

"Well, the Blood Society isn't really fond of love." He said smiling. "Maybe the love in the room blocked out my tattoo, which gives them all the more reason to hate me and get me punished."

My face felt warm. "How pleasant...."

"You're blushing something fierce, love." He chuckled.

I shushed him, embarrassed. As we walked, I noticed that Xavier still looked pale and tired, and he stumbled a few times and fell over. I made us stop by a shabby cafe nearby so that he could regain his strength. I used the little money I had in my pocket to buy him a bowl of forest soup. He wolfed it down gratefully, and a little bit of color returned to his cheeks.

"I honestly thought I was returned back to Hell," Xavier said, wiping his face when he was finished. "My father's voice kept calling out my name, my second name, but it was sinister and cruel, over and over again, as though he hated me." A look of sadness crossed over his handsome features. "I... I don't blame him. Who wouldn't hate the very son they did everything for that killed him...?"

"Don't say that." I said. "He still loves you, otherwise you would have seen him in hell."

He gave me a strange look. "How so?"

"If one truly believes in God, one will forgive those who have wronged him. It's what Jesus would do. If your father didn't forgive and love you, you'd still see him in Hell."

This brought a large smile to Xavier's face, and his bowed his head and thanked God for the food. This made me chuckle a little. I'd have to tell him later that this only had to be done with food at home meals.

We soon left and continued on our way. Xavier could feel his back burning again, and the fresh scars didn't help the pain he was in. It seemed like ages we were walking, but soon we came upon what seemed like a long road cleared out in a spacey forest. Xavier explained that we were now in Lovette territory. It began to get foggy, and I could hardly see my way through the forest.

We came to a large, iron gate, in front of what I saw was the biggest mansion I had ever seen. It was black and menacing-looking, with pointed turrets against a gray and drizzling sky. The gate itself was pointed at the top, and at the sides of the stone structures gargoyles sat glaring evilly down from atop, and on the structures were capital letter "L's." I stared breathtaken at the great mansion as Xavier took an ancient-looking old key from his suitcase and opened the padlock on the gate to let us in.

We got to the red door of the mansion, hung with a large gray doorknocker, and went in. What met us was a large, dark hallway, lined with paintings. He grabbed a book of matches on a circular hall table, lit a white candle sitting on it as well, and picked it up by it's holder. A small orb of light, enough to see in front of us, surrounded us.

"The mansion is rather complex." Xavier said. "The first door to the right is the sitting room, next to that is one of the three bathrooms, next to that is a guest room. On the left is the kitchens, which leads to the dining room, and next to that is just an old storage room I use for jackets and junk and things like that. At the end of this hallway..." He beckoned to me to follow him. "is a stair case that goes upstairs." He opened it and led me up a dark and cold spiral staircase. There was a window in the stairwell that looked out into the mansion's yard and over the trees into the town. The staircase led to another door. "Up here are most of the main rooms, mine, my father's old room and study, a pantry that leads down to the kitchens, another bathroom, and two guest rooms." I followed him to another spiral staircase at the end of that hall, nd by the time we got to the third floor, I was dizzy and nearly exhausted. Xavier saw this and chuckled. "Winded, are you? Not to worry, you'll get used to it." He pointed out more rooms. "Up here are just more useless rooms that were never really used accept when we had guests, and the library, which isn't that great. We used to have many family friends that would spend nights." He sighed as he smiled at the memories. "I made many friends. Used to be friends with the Huntingtons themselves, Joseph and his wife Anneabelle and their six children. Joseph was my father's business partner. They're the ones that reccomended to my father that they send me to their new family-owned bording school."

"Six children?" I said in disbelief.

Xavier chuckled. "Mind you, they weren't all Anneabelle's. Joesph and Anneabelle were divorced once, but got married again. Marribell, Anastasia, and Ulysses were the ones from Annea," he recalled. "Marribell and Ulysses were the oldest, being around my age... well, the age I was supposed to be, Marribell was 16 and Ulysses was 17. Then there were their twins, Hector and Thomas, they were 13, Joseph had gotten them from his second marriage... then there was little Samuel, who was 8 that he got from his third marriage... and then he had another little girl with Anneabelle, a six-month-old named Anastasia. I remember Marribell had quite the little crush on me." he chuckled. "Always preferred the guest room next to mine, though she was shy."

"Did you date her?"

"Why yes... for about seven months. Lost my virginity to her as well. She was a rather willing blood donor to satiate my addiction."

"Well, what happened?"

"I found Ulysses to be quite a bit more satisfying, if you get what I'm saying."

I raised my eyebrows as his trademark smile spread across his face. Xavier had been around quite a bit in his teenaged days. It seemed that he could get anyone to do what he wanted for him. He knew just the right things to say and do, that was apparent in his skills of now, when I had my evening times with him. I made a mental note to peek into his Book of Memories and see this history of his.

"But no more of those foolish hormonal ways of mine," he said, leading me back down the staircase. "I'm a new man, no longer out to hurt others, but to serve the Lord." He went to the second floor once again and opened his room. "You'll be in here, with me, if you don't mind?" He bit his lip, searching my face hopefully.

I smiled and nodded. "Of course."

He smiled back, and opened the door. Inside was a big room, with a large, luxurious bed draped in gray sheets and two gray pillows. Beautiful paintings and drawings covered the walls, pictures of an old town in Philadelphia, gargoyles, Caesar, one of two young-looking people and a child, a man and a woman with brunette hair, the woman having freckles and the man having stunning-gray eyes, and smiles on their faces, with a little boy inheriting the hair, freckles, and eyes, beaming bright with them. Another painting was of a very handsome boy and a beautiful girl, the boy looking very distinguished with an arched nose, intelligent-looking green eyes, dark and neat hair, and a straight-set mouth. The girl next to him had very similar facial features, but her hair was dirty-blonde, and she had dark blue eyes and very pretty lips turned up in a small smile. In the corner was a desk, which lay a stack of paper and a cup full of pens, pencils, quills, and a well full of ink nearby.

"The bed will be to your liking, I hope." He said. "Just set your things down anywhere." He said. I put my suitcases down and went over to the paintings. "This man and this woman... were these your parents?"

"What? Oh... yes." He went over to my side, and touched the painting. "I could remember them well, so I painted from memory. I drew myself, and them, together... how we were before they got the fever." I put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. It still pained him to be reminded of what once was. He smiled before continuing. "We used to live in Philadelphia, which is why I painted the town we lived in."

"And that one?" I said, indicating the boy and girl.

"Merribell and Ulysses." He said. "They were two of the most perfect-looking children I had ever met, and I felt I had to capture that beauty on paper. They were my models for this one."

"They were very handsome children." I agreed. "Speaking of which, I have to draw you, don't I?" I looked at him. "That is what you requested."

"Yes..." he beamed. "Yes, it was."

That day, we had gotten settled in. Xavier spent most of the day beginning his praying, whilst I busied myself drawing outlines in or looking through the library. At about nine, Xavier got up and made dinner, and called me down to eat. He had made a very decadent dish of classic roast potatoes. I was very impressed with is cooking, which he said he had learned from Caesar, of course. When we finished, we retired to his room and changed into nightclothes. We both knelt at his bed and he prayed aloud, and then we both crawled into bed. He blew out the bedside candle as he did.

"I hope it's comfortable enough for you." He said. "I haven't really broken it in since I left for school."

"It's just fine." I said, smiling. He smiled back and put a hand on my cheek, then kissed me softly.

"My back hasn't been burning too much all day. We must have thrown them off very nicely." He said happily.

"That's wonderful, Xavier." I said, feeling sleep start to creep into my body. He put his arms around me and held me close, making me feel warm and secure.

"Don't call me Xavier anymore, Jack." He said, stroking my hair tenderly. "Call me Christopher from now on."