A Cold Loveless Life

Irie- June 5, 1989

Crouching on the window sill I tapped on the glass. A slightly elder woman spun around before smiling gently at me. I nodded my head back. She quickly walked over, unlatched the window, shoved it up and stepped back. I jumped in and closed it behind me. “always an honor Irie.” Donna said as a smile graced her aging features. I nodded my head once more, not bothering with speaking.

“His name is Peter.” She spoke, getting right to the point. I looked around the nursery. “where is the child?” I growled. He was supposed to be here when I arrived. I spun and glared at her. she stood, tall and firm, seemingly to not be affected by my deadly glare. “he will be here shortly, he is being bathed by one of the staff. His parents want nothing to do with him.” She replied as she sat in a lone rocking chair.

I stood surveying the room, yet none of the details stuck within my memory. “you haven’t changed Rosemary.” She commented. I snarled at her, baring my fangs and my eyes flashing a bright silver. She smiled softly at me. “do not call me by that name.” I growled, flexing my fingers as I clenched them tightly. “it is your name.” she responded.

I floated over to her, grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall.

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That.” I sneered, my eyes flashing with great anger. “s-sorry.” She choked out. I let go and stepped back, allowing her to fall to her knees, gasping for breath. The door banged open and an elderly woman came walking in, a blue bundle in her arms. She stood, frozen in fear. “give me the child.” I demanded.

She shook her head in fear, clutching the baby tightly to her. I growled, my patients was beginning to diminish. “now.” I growled once more. The woman, fearing for her own life, threw the baby and fled the room. I caught him and held him in front of me. he looked at me, his deep brown eyes staring into my silver ones. The blanket in which he was wrapped in, fell to a bundle in the floor at my feet.

I held him just underneath his arms. He was pale, and had messy black hair. “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. You should pray god has mercy on you.” I whispered as I held him properly in my arms. I turned and placed him in his crib. His huge brown eyes fluttered close as he cooed in his sleep. “you’re not going to kill him?” Donna gasped from behind me. “you shouldn’t be so surprised since I let you live.”

I chimed as I stared at the sleeping human. I heard her light footsteps walk over and glanced at her as she stood next to me. “he is to carry the tradition. Haley and Draven, are free to choose their paths.” She spoke in a sad tone. “Haley and Draven are ten and twelve. Haley should be the one to carry it but since, since their mother found out about your connection to her newborn she decided to make little Pete the one.”

She confirmed what I had already known. “humans are very sad creatures.” I mussed. Not taking my eyes from the child. “will he make it?” she begged. I glanced to her. “if he wants.” I replied as I turned and walked back to the window, I pushed it up and climbed out, holding onto the ledge. “will you kill him?” she cried in desperation. “I kill all hunters. He is no exception. Nor are you.” I spoke as I fell from the third story window. I landed softly on the grass and quickly ran across the vast yard, escaping into the trees, and leaving behind their scents.