Once a upon a time he had been on grounds closely similar to this gravesite. One that he would consider a second home he had made from the other realm; it was where he watched the rebirth of one of his loves occur over and over until she could no longer be sustained in a world of the living. Eventually her appearances diminished until they were no more and Raeguel could no longer sense her. Glancing amongst the worn down headstones, he was reminded of how he had lost not only her, but the others as well.
The first, he had devoted his life to her until she was unjustifiably taken from him. The second, the one that he had worshipped and loved from afar because of his duties to her, was too ripped away. The third, one that couldn’t live without him, seemed lost as well. Perhaps it was best for them to no long stand beside him now- he wasn’t the man that each woman had fell for. He was no longer the rosy eyed vampire, nor was his the obedient and loyal knight nor the master of his own house. He was simply Raeguel, someone that needed to make amends despite his unwillingness at this time. Pulling the dark cloak tighter around him and the hood up to remain unseen, he stared upon the tombs, one by one. There was an eerie feel in the air, though it was something that he became accustomed to over the years.
He wondered if his own grave had been made back home, and if he should perish here, then who would make it? Aside from Angela and her household, he knew no one in these parts and surely he wouldn’t be missed exceptionally. The uncomforting thought didn’t bother him greatly, for he felt empty now. No malice in his heart, no treachery in mind and yet no comfort could come to him for he felt the sting of guilt for everything he had done in his life. Prowling through the area a bit more, he came across an unmarked headstone with weeds and such ensnaring it. Raeguel kneeled down and pulled them off, one by one until it was clear. For one that took many lives, he just then became aware of how permanent death truly was. Before this, he had never gave it a second thought before especially when he had been a monster. Carnage and pain was all he knew at that time, and little was cared about as far as anyone other than himself. A gloved hand slid down the stone before withdrawing and he got back up to his feet. The gravesite back home had also been the place where he lost all control and accepted his fate as a monster that wanted to see the world quiver beneath his boot. To open the gates of hell and unleash his fury against all that stood in his way. The more it dawned on him, the more he seethed with anger and regret.
How could he had let himself be pulled down to that length? How could he not had accepted death when he was given the choice of death or being turned in the first place?
His hand tightened into a shaking fist.
How could he had been such a coward?
Perhaps all this came to fruition because of his actions? Had he just died, at least then he would have done so with pride and honor, and not shame himself or his family. Countless lives would have been spared and the women he had stolen hearts from would likely still be breathing. Alone in the silence of this world, his head fell low and his anger bottled up. Why must it had been that he survived when he had done unspeakable actions? These grounds should have been his home now, where he would be lying beneath the ground in death’s tight embrace and be forgotten just like the rest that slumbered.
