Saturday, July 20, 2013

PART 2: THE FIRST EVIL, 1931-1933: Second Interlude (UNEDITED)

Here is a bonus, the SECOND INTERLUDE in Part 2.

If you are just catching up, see the CHAPTERS section to read the Prologue-Chapter 25 before proceeding to the Second Interlude.

Otherwise, read from the word go :)


Montreal, Canada

Teresa stood on the edge of the shore, gazing out to the rolling waters of the Atlantic.  A week ago, her husband became part of that ocean.  As of a week ago, the Atlantic was where he would remain long after they were all dead and gone.  It was Nicolae Ganoush’s final resting place.
Well I suppose you got what you wanted, Teresa thought as the wind beat the thick, long dark hair she had maintained since she was a young girl, whipping the strands against her face. 
“You go what you wanted…” she whispered as a tide came in and for a brief moment consumed her bare feet.  She watched her long strands of hair being pushed around by the wind.  The dark strands may have been streaked with gray now, but it was still there and still hers as it had been when she was younger.  It was the only part of herself she truly recognized anymore.  Teresa folded her arms over her full and now heavier chest.  To a bystander and those in their small community who knew her, she was a new widow mourning for her recently late husband, and that was true.  Teresa was now in her mid forties, a mother, a grandmother, and a widow mourning for her husband and standing at the edge of the ocean with a tear escaped down her face.  Nicolae had reached the other side.  That she knew.  She could feel it.  But he isn’t alone…  That was also something she knew.
The thought taunted her as she remembered the day a week ago that she had followed her daughter to the Atlantic’s edge.  Twenty-one year old Stefania carried both the urn that contained Nicolae’s ashes and the small wooden box that Nicolae had kept with him up until the day he died.
“That damned box,” Teresa muttered, but her hatred for the box and whom it carried for over thirty years had faded into a disdain and then into a rather weak helplessness.  They were together now.  That other woman was with him and there was absolutely nothing Teresa was able to do about it.  They were in a place where she had no power.  None at all.  She had tapped into the sacred bloodline and used its energy, but where had it gotten her?
Alone, she thought as the tears began to stream down her face.  She stood on the shore, pushing back the strands of hair that had gotten stuck to her face by the tears.  Her face had retained most of its girlish youth despite the aging lines that creased her skin and she was more than aware of the fact that her body was far from what it had been when she had met Nicolae at sixteen.  A small, sad chuckle left her mouth as she recalled how silly she had been as a girl of sixteen when she was so critical of her physical appearance back then.  Now her youth was gone along with her deceased husband.  The man she loved in the best way she knew how.
“I did love him,” she insisted aloud at the wind.  Then she looked out to the sea and whispered with her voice cracking, “I did love you Nicolae and still…” before she broke down to near hysterical sobbing.  She collapsed down onto the wet sand, the in-coming tides soaking the skirt of her dress and the hem of her jacket.  She could see them again.  Together in the afterlife and that only increased her tears.
“All I wanted was for you to love me!” Teresa screamed, her voice straining against the sobs coming up through her throat.  She sobbed even more as her salty tears fell into the ocean’s tides to be swept away out to sea.
As Teresa’s sobbing died down, the wind stung and dried the tears on her face.  She thought about the tears she had spilled into the ocean and wondered if somehow they would reach Nicolae, if he would be able to feel the sorrow she felt that came with his passing.
No, he wouldn’t and nor would he care.  He has her now…why would he even be concerned with me?  He hardly was when he was alive.
With that thought, more tears fell but her sobbing was soft this time.  Teresa reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the dagger that Nicolae had given her shortly after their initial meeting so that she would be able to protect herself if needed.  The act of his concern for her still touched her heart thirty years later.  She remembered the couple times he had looked at her with a glint of desire in his eyes despite the fact that he was still mourning for Eloisa, which would later explain the guilty manner in which he would quickly shift his eyes away within seconds.  It was the small moments that kept her afloat.  Teresa closed her eyes and remembered his concern over the slice in her palm.  Of course she had lied to him about how she had done it.  She had told him that it had been an accident when it had not.  And that moment had been the beginning of the end for not only Nicolae but Teresa.
Teresa thought about summoning the elements as the ocean’s shore was the perfect place to do it.  She wanted to try one more time to bring Nicolae to her, but every time she tried, she was met with some sort of wall blocking her from doing so.  It was at that moment that Teresa not only was forced to accept that fact that Nicolae was not only gone but that she also never really had him in the first place.  She looked down at the small, faded scar on the palm she had sliced thirty years ago when she was promised that Nicolae would be hers.  What had it all really been for? 
After Nicolae’s death, the voices Teresa had heard speak to her since the disappearance of her parents had vanished, including the apparition of her mother.  Teresa had tried several times that passed week to reach them but to no avail.  This only increased the emptiness that she felt.  The sacrifice she had made three decades ago.  What had it really been for?  They had promised her that she would have Nicolae and that their descendents would have gifts.  All they would need is some of her blood and occasionally, they would need to “collect” though they were never specific on what that collecting would entail.  And Teresa would never truly discover what collecting meant until the day that Olga disappeared.  She had convinced herself that the stillbirths of her first two children, a boy named Andreas and a girl named Maria were nothing more than unfortunate circumstances.  Teresa’s intuition seemed to be trying to tell her otherwise, but at the ages of sixteen and seventeen, she did not want to believe that her beloved voices and her own mother would be cause for her children to die.  Acknowledging that would also mean that Teresa was the one responsible for the two little ones dying, and that was something she just did not want to accept, even now.  She still did not want to assume responsibility for Olga and she would take that secret to the grave.
Then there was the bloodline that her mother, Dominique, had told her of when she appeared to her in the campfire thirty years ago.  Teresa did not understand it at all then and there were some things that were still a mystery to her, but she understood a lot better now.  It was an ancient one that was scattered to all areas of the Earth.  There wasn’t a day Teresa didn’t feel the heat of her ancient ancestors flowing through her blood.  She had welcomed what had been dormant inside her for the first sixteen years of her life had been awakened that night when she stood naked in a field under the moonlight, sliced her palm and allowed her blood to drop into the soil.  Teresa had felt an almost orgasmic rush as she felt the elements and the spirits of her ancient bloodline begin to consume her being.  It was then that she felt things she had never felt before in her life.  Power and control over her destiny.  That she would have the man she desired.  After that, Teresa had quickly dressed at the urging of her mother’s voice, tearing off a piece of cloth from her apron to wrap her bleeding palm with as she tried not to get blood on her clothing.  She had then gone back to an unsuspecting Nicolae and the following night Nicolae would make love to her.  Or at least she had thought at the time.  She remembered being confused over Nicolae’s reaction to her the following morning, but that later made sense after she had looked inside of his box at Eloisa’s remains and saw the images of their relationship and what had really happened on the first night she had been with Nicolae.  Teresa had wanted to destroy that box and the desire to discard Eloisa’s ashes out with the rest of the garbage had been only too strong for her.  Nicolae managed to hide the box well and seemed to guard it as though he were guarding the biblical Arc of the Covenant.  There seemed to be a power there, a force that neither Teresa nor her visitors seemed to understand or break.  There was also part of Teresa that understood that the destruction of the box would likely be what would send Nicolae over the edge.  It would break any hypnosis she had over him.  What would he do?  But that part of Teresa also understood the pain it would cause him and perhaps it was the true feelings of love she had that lie beneath everything else that prevented her from acting on destroying the box Nicolae cherished so much.

Teresa sat on the wet sand, staring down at the dagger she held in both of her hands.  It was in it’s tattered sheath and it had been the only real, meaningful gift he had given to her.  That and little Antonio.  Her other children harbored some form of resentment to her, she knew.  Especially Stefania.  But Antonio loved her and to him she could do no wrong.  Perhaps with Antonio I can right whatever wrongs I’ve done with the other children.  Of course, there’s the grandchildren too.  But they are their parents’ children to raise and Antonio is my son to raise….and a result of one of the last times Nicolae and I were together.  I didn’t even have to use any manipulation that time either.
Teresa sighed heavily, her sorrow deepening at the thought of the lack of romance and intimacy in her marriage.  She had ways of manipulating Nicolae into bed with her.  That was how all of their children other than Antonio had been produced.  Dominique and the other voices had revealed the history Nicolae refused to share with her, thus giving her insight to his weaknesses.  She knew how to keep him and at the time, she had been willing to go to any length to do so.  But one thing that Teresa hadn’t considered at the time that was dawning on her now was the question of whatever forces there were out there using her weakness for Nicolae to manipulate her into being some kind of a vessel for them.
“No,” she said aloud.  “I can’t…”
Even now she had a hard time believing that her own mother would allow the demise of Teresa and Dominique’s own grandchildren.  Teresa looked out to the ocean, staring into the mist that began to rise above it.  In that mist, she saw them.  She saw the way they looked at eachother.  She saw them in a dimly lit area, locked in a passionate embrace.
There was never a time he looked at me that way…not at his own desire, at least.
Teresa closed her eyes and remembered the night Nicolae did come to her on his own.  The night they created Antonio.  A lone tear escaped down her cheek and she opened her eyes again and stared at the image of her late husband and his love.  His only love.
“I knew about the time you two were together in the workshed ten years ago…” she said to them.  “I knew it when it happened.  I woke up and was able to see it happening in my mind.  I was also able to see that there was a moment where you would rather be dead than be in a marriage with me any longer.”
Teresa knew that Nicolae and Eloisa were unable to hear her where they were at.  She shut her eyes tightly, unable to stomach seeing the two of them together anymore.
He had to have loved me at least a little to come to me when Antonio was conceived…
Teresa began to wrap herself in the memories of that night when a voice spoke to her.
A PITY FUCK, it had said.  Besides for all you know, that may not have really been him…you of all people should know that.
Teresa’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice.  Could it be?  Where they back?
“That’s a lie,” she shakily told the voice.  Teresa strained her ears, listening for a response, but all she heard were the sounds of the ocean.  A seagull cried out in the distance and Teresa noticed that the image of Nicolae and Eloisa was replaced by and image of two small boys that looked to be about three years of age, one with dark, almost ebony hair and the other was blond.  The image evaporated as quickly as it had come, but it was enough for her to get the energies of the two boys and she immediately knew who they were.  The mist then formed to show her an image which appeared to be an older version of the dark-haired little boy, about the age Nicolae was when Teresa had met him.  The young man was playing a guitar that didn’t look like anything from her time.  He was neatly dressed and his hair was done in a style that also wasn’t anything from the year 1875.  The young man had Nicolae’s build and some of his mannerisms reminded Teresa of her late husband (especially the way he furrows his brow when he concentrates as he plays).  The young man had a fate as did his light-haired brother.  Both of them were important to the fate of their bloodline in their own way.
As the image of her and Nicolae’s descendent evaporated, Teresa had a memory of a thought she had after she had met Nicolae.  That fate had brought them together and perhaps that was correct even if it wasn’t the reasoning Teresa had hoped for.  Teresa let out a cry at that realization as she clutched the dagger in its tattered sheath. 
Teresa then heard another voice in the back of her mind.  This is what I tried to protect you from, child.
“Gabriella?” Teresa asked.  She looked around, feeling a small ray of hope and comfort as she listened for any sign of her former guardian, but once again she was only met with the sounds of the waves churning in the ocean.  Teresa’s posture fell as hopelessness began to overtake her again.


As the years would pass and Teresa’s mind would begin to cloud over until she knew nothing more than wandering through a thick forest for what would be an eternity.  Anytime there was hope of a clearing ahead there would only be more forest.  It would continue after she would leave the physical world at the age of sixty.  It was as though there were no place for her, that her soul was lost.  The dagger would also find itself in new hands across the world before it would end up with Linda in the year 1931.

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