The Legend of Marcus Huges

Evil breeds evil.

Does the juvenile one have a choice?

Marcus Huges, a legend in the city of Dorvan, was a monstrous lore which kept women at home and men less on streets. Yes, you would see little groups of children enacting him and playing around, but only till the adults were back home and the wolves howled.

For Zerra it all was partially true. It would be horrible if one makes his or her father sound like a heathen on the street. But here it was, the bare truth, his father was a frightening monster and he killed many. With that he was a dear husband , a playful father and a support for the whole chunk of a family.

Before knowing all this, Zerra pictured his father as a hero, ironically he wasn’t but he felt less confused then. Now, at his funeral, there was no gloom, only questions. Was his father a bad person or a good one? 

He by the vow of fate inherited the same blood rage as his father. The only difference being he couldn’t taste the sunlight while his father could. 

The grave read

Marcus Huges

The last Monstrosity

Lays dead.

“He wasn’t the last.”

A little girl under her mother’s umbrella looked up to Zerra in terror and then forced her eyes shut. The sun had long left the beloved sky, the evening danced furious, Zerra leaned onto the grave which unlike any had no lavenders placed nearby, just haunting emptiness. 

A girl, by appearance older than Zerra stared blankly at the grave. Zerra waited for her to go or to move. None shown.

“You know him??” She shouted.

Zerra walked towards the girl with auburn hair. “He was my father.”

Her eyes widened in shock as she took a step back from Zerra, maintaining a safe distance.

“He killed mine.”

Zerra bowed his head, “I am sorry for your loss.”

The girl stared at him from head to toe, accepting that the devil had a son who knew how to apologise. “I am sorry for your loss too. He was your father.”

The step she had taken back was still lingering in the air. “You look nothing like him. He was pale. Do you too thrive on blood?”

The tense shoulders dropped down into a frown. Zerra turned around and scouted long distances into the street only to feel the grip of slender hands close to his right arm. 

One of the old men in the crowd gripped him as the crowd dragged itself away from the cemetery. 

“Demon, Demon!” 

For part of a second Zerra felt the hair on his skin rise in fear. But the people weren’t running away from him, it was something else. Against the friction of masses, Zerra paced back to the Cemetery which lost all t’s peace in havoc. Near the grave of his father, a gigantic man stoof, eyes blood red, lips painted in crimson from somebody’s life. 

The girl. Did he…

A blade swung past the humongous person, thrashing him into the nearest wall.The blade was chained on the holder ends as it returned to its owner. The owner stepped out of blue, with brightness jeweled in her eyes as she striked again and again, mercilessly without stopping. It was the girl he met earlier. He could see the day dying in her eyes, the glitter around her blades fading. 

Her ability works under the sun.

Looking at the blood rage in the opponents eyes he knew, he’ll only get stronger. 

The way the girl’s hand danced, it was obvious she wouldn’t retreat.

Mind in dump, butterflies rising, Zerra bit his thumb, scarlet dripping down to the earth. A familiar tingle and vibration hugging him. 

All the thoughts running a moment late to understand the reason why he was doing this.

Making a clear sentence in the end. 

Can I undo what my dad did?

Zerra walked inches from war, canines sharp and thirsty. He ran towards the ogre, spinning the blood dripping into a veil. Eventually, his speed became smooth and swift. 

The next thing he remembered, he was lying head first in the night street light, drowning in his own poisonous blood. A healthy figure on the side bench, a chain gleaming about her chest and her waist.

"You alright?"

Zerra nodded and got up expecting to feel bruises. 

The girl raised her hand as Zerra let her help him. "What were you doing back then?"

"Trying to aid you." Zerra answered.

"Aid me? Do you know I had to fight half of the mess carrying you on my back? You literally just busted onto the ogre and fainted."

So heroic.

The blades around her didn't glow like before. But her olive skin gleamed like a polished statue, a mark scarring her appearance and her chubbiness complimenting her slightly pitchy voice.

“What was it?” Zerra asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Ever heard of Edward Huges?”

His memories never felt hazier. “Uncle Edward” 

All the vintage chocolates and the taste now spreading bitter. It was his uncle from the paternal side, the one who owned a villa near the countryside where Zerra used to chase sheeps. Like a kid lost in a crowd, he started looking around in search of the gigantic ogre.  

“If you are in fact Marcus’s son, your bloodline is falling.”

“Why?”

The girl shrugged, “The only sentence I know is that, power is a chain ruination. It’s rapid, he was the third after your father. At this rate your kin will be at rest in no more than a week, including you.”

Zerra felt his throat drying and palms sweating. If any of it was true, he was about to lose everything. The girl kept a hand on his shoulder. Hopeful eyes glaring into hers.

“I have an insider on this, if you vow not to kill me.”

“I haven't fed for three years. I am no killer.”

The girl’s name was Eden Sparks, she was a descendant to sun shrine guardians. Her olive appearance sure gave that away. She told Zerra that her sister killed another relative of his the last evening and one of the fellow guardians took down another ogre at the river beach. It all began after Marcus Huges touched death and swayed away with it. Her kind termed it as ruination. Before leaving, Eden handed a sunflower she plucked from a branch nearby to Zerra and clenched her fist atop of his. “No grave should go bare.”

Zerra placed it at his father’s grave, weeping like never before as he bid him farewell. 

A demon of night and a flower of day.

Back at his gigantic house, every person was covered in black, the gloom wearing heavy in the old walls. A stark silence welcomed him on his door, daunting than the thought of his whole lineage dying. He climbed the stairs from the less dense side in order to prevent any attention. Sympathy was the very last thing he needed for now. 

. A child can grow like a tree but still a breath of ache and nervousness pertains when addressing his mother. 

Zerra found his mother reading a book from his father’s shelf. She was training herself to take over the reign after him, to raise her children better than their father. How much was she trying to gulp down any sorts of pain she felt for that man, she couldn't bear any pity for a monster. 

Zerra stepped out of the shadows, catching his mother’s sight.

She got up and hugged Zerra softly, enough to make him realise that he had to be strong enough and never crumble into anyone’s arms.

“There is a ruination going on. I saw Uncle Edward turn into an ogre, he attacked..” His voice cracked.

“That makes a third till now. Was there anybody harmed?”

“No, she took care of it. Her name is Eden.”

“Guardian’s daughter?”

Zerra nodded like a puppy. Something in his chest questioned if he should have mentioned Eden. Guardians didn’t have any grudges against his kin but his family seemed to be in the news regarding every ill happenings in the town. 

His mother didn’t speak of Eden afterwards, she calmly went downstairs. The years and her habits had inferred that she herself didn’t know what was happening.

My mother, she will survive past this. Right?

That night like many went sleepless, this time out of fear. 

I want to see another day with everyone.

His eyes went shut and his brain recounted every happiness that it could. All of it dived into a dreamless sleep with Eden’s sunflower being the last. 

He woke up in breathlessness, thoughts brimming.

Power is a chain ruination.

It had been years since the last time he fled from the palace in daylight. The day he last ran away to explore the sunshine, the rays started stinging his skin and afterwards, sun was his only foe. 

 There was only one way down this hill, he had to understand how his father kept the ruination at bay. He had to get in his father’s shoes. 

His kin was silent as a grave when asked about Marcus and his murders. All of them being loyal even after his death lay cold.

Your father was more than just a murderer.

Vague about Eden’s whereabouts, Zerra sat at the same bench as the night before. Waiting. 

She came. The blades wrapped around her in a spiral. Two adult figures guarded her from the sides. Her smile was constant up until she saw someone at the bench, hurdled up into what appeared like a blanket.

Her lips formed words. What an idiot?

The guardians returned to their respective posts. Eden casually walked to the red bench and took a seat.

“I thought you were rich. Blanket?”

Zerra answered with a suppressed voice. “I can’t take the sun.”

He continued, “I want to know about my father, please.”

“Isn't there a better thing to worry about than your dead father?” She bit her lip just as soon as she realised that she crossed the line. 

“I think he knew about the ruination. Maybe he was sealing it.”

She got up, her hair brighter than the star above as she held out a hand.

“I don’t care about your father but you tried to save me the other day. Now, I owe you your kindness. So, get up, we’ve got a legend to unfold.”

A legend is created from stories and reality, interwoven. 

Marcus Huges wasn’t born in the family of the vampiric bloodline. Yet, interestingly he had the trait, the poison in his veins. It was a rumour, a gossip that he was related to the bloodline by wrong relations. 

Whatever it may be, he was a sweet little boy with a funny grin. He used to adore fishing, cooking and dancing. And that became the reason why he was being alienated from the family of nobles. 

Though for the namesake he was adopted into the family, he was treated like a soldier in training. His father, Howalt Huges was a man of respect in the town and a tyrant to his son. He used to make him practice the bloodrage, a forbidden art in the town to strange extents. 

After Howalt’s trip to presumed heaven, Marcus was declared the head of the kin. 

Questionable as it may sound, no cousin ever competed for the chair against Marcus. His wife was a mere alchemist working for the guardians and no voices were raised against him breaking an ancestor law in order to wed her.  

The next thing in memory, Marcus Huges was caught bathed in crimson blood on a summer night. Coincidentally, he was found at the site of twelve murders in the screams of darkness. 

And hence, with a commendable streak of nine hundred corpses on his name, the monster of night was discovered to be a demi-vampire of a reputed family.

That was all the dark Zerra knew from the cracks of the family. But, it was not the whole story. Eden rushed past the bustling streets of the morning sale, her one hand always of the chain around her and the other flung around Zerra guiding him.

The girl's eyes knew where they were taking her. Both ended up in a side tavern where Eden told Zerra to wait for her outside. For minutes, he thought that she had no reason to help her but she did it nevertheless. 

Eden came out with a gigantic portfolio, filled with disoriented papers as she spoke

"We've got only ten minutes to go through this."

Zerra and Eden sat in a corridor of Sun's castle. Zerra could finally take off the blanket and let the sweat dry itself up in the air. 

"These are the records of people who were killed by…"

My father.

Her eyes were swimming in puddles of tears and sun lotion. His father's disgrace had shelled him to even empathize with his victims. 

The list was a long one, it was Eden's idea to go through and find a similarity. Maybe being just a rookie that's all she could do.

"He was so random in killing." Eden spoke, munching fried honey weed.

"They all were financiers for my family's business of wine trade."

Eden's jaw dropped as she snatched the record file from Zerra just to realise that he was right. 

His father was killing in random order but specific people. It is absolutely impossible for a person to control the thirst of blood rage, but his father did. 

Bloodrage, unlike mere craving of blood, is an energy manipulation ability. As far as Zerra knew, blood rage could create a veil around the wielder blocking the external influences in the reaction within and granting a speed according to the body. Inside, a hunger develops which makes the wielder fearless and berserk, like a demon. But there was more to it that he didn't know. 

All of it began when he died.

Eden returned home and Zerra tred out in the twilight near the only river in town, where his father used to fish. Maybe it was the place where he could find a bare truth lying somewhere. He sat on one of the edges, the one where the wind blew away his nausea. 

Marcus ran out of the canoe and towards the land. There was something about this place, the wind blew just enough to dry what the scent of iron beneath his tongue. Mister Howalt stood talking to some men, and when Marcus could steal a little time for himself, he did. He picked up a pointed stone and started carving on the largest stone he could see. Oh, how delighted he was when he saw a pile of the same stones falling into the dense woods, like stepping stones of life. How many could he fill?

Zerra looked back and forth the woods, a feeling rising up his belly. His reality was becoming like the dense forest, twisted beyond expectations. In the sight of his eyes he saw a large piece of rock, flat as polished stone. He dragged himself up and near the stone. 

Dust highlighted the words carved in it, and Zerra removed the remaining.

“I like fishing, this is my land. My name is Marcus Helms.”

Out of curiosity, Zerra looked around and found another polished stone.

“I learnt how to set a mast and I love waffles”

It was frustration or haste, he didn’t know. He found himself leaping from one stone to another in search of the accounts of the child in a dock owned by his family. 

“I met my new family.”

“I learnt dancing today.”

“I started learning my skill”

And so on.

The words matured and it felt personal. “I feel alone today.”

“I am becoming stronger. I want to save my family.”

And then,

 “Power is a chain ruination, they say, when the blood is ruined."

They all kept silent at his death. It occurred to Zerra that what all he'd been searching for was within his family.

It started with numbness in legs, but when the creeping of numbness spread across his legs up to the chest, he knew. He knew that it was his time. The ruination had managed a way to him. He thought he would think of his beautiful memories of childhood in a moment like this, but he wasn’t. He was thinking of his father, for the first time not as a killer but as a victim.

When the feeling creeped to his head, he was thinking about his mother, how she would have felt realising that the man she loved was’t a man but a monster.

Father..

Father..

I don’t want to die.

He laid there in the weeds near the river. Like a nightmare, hovering in the dark, his senses returned. He wasn’t an ogre he thought he would become. But something was different, within his chest he felt his heart and another. 

To his horror he discovered a crew of twelve sleeping on a red carpet of their own blood. And now that other heartbeat that poked his chest, pulsed, pulsed like a thousand cannons fired in the sky. 

He ran.

Faster than he ever could to the castle he called home. 

His mother stood there as he barged and hugged her.

“Momma, I.. I..”

She waved her hands and the servants around her took leave.

“I killed…. Somebody. “

“What happened?”

“He was protecting me, wasn’t he? I was cursed with inheritance, he took it, right?” Marcus Failed.

With truth so raw before her, she couldn't hold back.

She knew it from the beginning and she let Marcus kill to cure blood rage upon their son.

With a wailing face, she cupped her son’s face between her hands.

“It’s going to be okay.” Hollow, just like the last time.

The havoc of deaths silenced as a new monster rose from slumber.