Veronica walked down the grey-blue hallway that her father had decorated. Her new sneakers, that her father bought her, tapped slightly against the marble floor. "Veronica! Come here," Her twin brother, Vincent, whisper yelled at her. She came closer to him and then wished she hadn't.
Vincent was peeking around the corner into the living room of the wide manor the lived in. Her mother, Rose, and her father, Vladimir, were fighting again. Her father was sitting in his huge leather chair and her mother was standing above him.
They had been fighting recently, and since he had beaten her mother…Now the fighting wasn't just verbal. It was also physical. Her mother was still sporting the remaining bruises from the black eye she was given for stating her opinion.
"Vlad, you have no love for anyone except yourself. You are a self-centered, stupid, arrogant, annoying narcissist," Veronica's mother told her father.
"You just can't accept that I won't marry you," her father said to Rose, standing up from the chair he was previously sitting in.
"Get your head pulled of your arse and focus on the 21st century we are living in and not the 19th century. The social standing isn't the same! You don't have to worry about what people will think if you marry me! I may be the maid you first hired but what about the children I bore you. What happened then?" Violet screamed, trying to match her mere 5'6" to Vlad's 6'2".
"Because you bore a girl. I have to lose her at 18 because you and your stupid body couldn't have two boys or one boy! You had to have a girl who now bears the marking! There is no way to save her now!"
That was the last straw for Veronica. She touched the back of her neck which prickled slightly, and whimpered. That was his argument. Again.
The fact that her ancestor on her dad's side made a pact with a demon for the first born girl on his family tree would be marked. Of course she was the unfortunate one to have this mark on her.
As proclaimed by the demon, at the last chime of the church bell goes off on the night of her 18th birthday, she would have her soul taken for payment for her family.
She ran upstairs, her shoes making a thump sound every time it hit the cold marble of the floor. This would be the last day she would have to hear herself be the butt of his arguments. She had enough.
Matthew walked down the small and cramped hallway. The pungent smell of mold was hiding behind the wallpaper that was once white and was now a brownish green as it peeled away from the wall. Matthew bent down as he took the key to his and Molly's room that hung on a string around his neck.
He opened the door with a gentle push and walked in silently, expecting to see his sister curled under the blankets as she always was when he came in from working in the lab. This time, there was no lump of blankets that ended up being Molly. The bed was flat.
"Molly, you in here?" Matthew asked, hoping his sister was in the room. It was past time that the head doctor allowed people to be roaming around the halls.
There was no answer and he called out quietly again. "Molly?" He was answered with nothing. Not even the scurry of the rats that Molly claimed lived here.
"Molly! Come out now!" Matthew called again, this time his voice voice was authoritive. He wasn't going to mess around now. He felt a small tap on his soulder and he jumped slightly. His skin was alive with tingles as he turned around slightly. He looked down and saw it was just Molly.
"Holy shit, Molly! Are you trying to give me a heartattack?" He yelled at her.
"Yes," Molly said scooting away from him.
"Fine, you little stooge. Be that way but just so you know, I can do it better," Matthew told her starting to tickle her.
"Matty! Stop!" Molly screamed using the name she knew he hated.
"Okay," Matthew told her as he stopped the tickling, "I thought I told you to go to bed by now."
"I'm sorry, I wanted to surprise you," Molly told him as she let out a big yawn.
"It's okay, now let's go to bed," he said as he picked her up and dropped her on the bed causing her to laugh.
She hopped off the bed and walked over to the small dresser she holds the small amount of clothes she has.
"Hurry up, and I might go to bed with you tonight," Matthew said as he slipped off his lab coat and hung it up as he changed into a pair of pajama pants.
"Yay!" Molly said as she threw on her blue satin nightgown that had once belonged to their mother. It was long on her small thirteen year old sized body. As she walked to bed, her feet occasionally caught on the ends of the nightgown.
They slid into the bed they shared as Molly drifted off to sleep. Matthew was wide awake. He rubbed his eyes as he prepared to sleep, thinking of one thing. Thinking how one day he will find Molly's cure.
Missy rapped her hand on the large oak door to the doctor's private office. The room was decorated unlike the hallway. Instead of the velvety, red decorations, the inside the doctor's room, it was a dark and dingy grey color.
"Come in," his voice wheezed from inside the room. Missy pushed the door open and saw the doctor sitting at the large oak desk that occupied a small section of the room.
"What is it?" He asked as he looked up from the small piles of papers he was examining.
The DNA tests have come back doctor," Missy said to him. She stood straight upward, trying to be taller than her small height would allow.
He barely looked up as he said, "Well, what are they?"
"The same as last time, Sir," Missy told him.
"Come on! Not another failure!" He said standing up and facing her, "Is bringing me two 14 year olds that hard? Veronica and Vincent that is all I'm asking for, not half the world!"
"I'm sorry, Sir. We are trying our hardest."
"Not good enough," he said, taking his hand and placing a perfect backhand blow on her face.
The smack didn't hurt; really, it was more of the shock. It brought Missy to her knees making her seem weak. Missy never thought that he would hit her, ever. Then, again he was targeting his 14 year old half siblings.
Missy quickly stood up and mumbled before she left as fast as she could, "We will try harder, Sir."
I grabbed the folder that Missy dropped on her way out and shelved it with the other 11 folders of failures. I stared at my shoes, my beaten up and worn loafers, giving myself a mental note to replace them. I turned around and faced myself in the mirror and looked at myself, curse and all. I pulled the medical mask down, grimacing at the sight.
The skin around me jaw was rotting off again. It was worse than last time I had looked at it. My bright red eyes stared at myself in horror.
I realized the terrible mistake I made. I had hit Missy, the only person in this cruel and dark world I cared for.
That's the reason I'm doing the surgery. For Missy. Once I am fixed maybe she can find room in her heart for me.
Nathan stared at the small picture he had clutched in his hands. It was a picture of the man who had killed Christina.
Christina. His first love. His only love. His true love. The girl who was dead.
He had survived the bullet that pierced his abdomen. The only other bullet that had been shot, had been at Christina. She was dead a minute after hitting the ground. There was no way to save her.
Nathan lifted his shirt a bit and saw the bandaged part. It hadn't bled today but until it healed, Nathan was going to keep it bandaged up.
The picture was of a man who had his lower half of his face covered by a medical mask. He had grey hair which was balding in most spots. He had wrinkles that ran across his face but he didn't look older than forty.
It didn't matter how old he was. As long as Nathan would get his revenge towards the man who killed Christina. He wouldn't stand for anything lower then what he deserved.