Must Read: Laraba (Werewolves,Vampires, Witches)
Must Read: Laraba (Werewolves,Vampires, Witches)
I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
To give and die To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
More deeply than the oceans,
More abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice?
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you – take my world apart
To need you – I am on my knees
To love you – take my world apart
To need you – broken on my knees
Those were the lyrics of ‘Jars of clay’s World Apart’ that spieled out from the stereo that lay on the small cedar table inside Ryan’s abode. The song that poured loosely like canticles was accompanied by Ryan’s pantomime. The pantomime that declared plainly how drunken he was. With each boozy step he took, Ryan always accompanied it with deep swig from bottle of liquor enjoying the slavery of his arm.
Ryan was vastly drunk. And that had been his new daily mundane after his encounter with the only girl that had successfully enamoured him. He was sure he could still make out the unlined pretty face of Regina in every little slumber he had. The beautiful face had been obstinate in tormenting his every sleep. He wouldn’t even say he was tormented by the face because whenever he woke up, he always rued over not being able to touch her for real. He regretted ever compelling her to forget about him albeit he knew that was the best thing to do. He couldn’t be with a mortal—and he knew that it would be a deepest duncish of himself to turn her into one by giving her a bite. But he so much loved Regina that he hadn’t even given a darn hoot his life was on halt since his bitter encounter with her. He had stopped his vigilante duty, stopped haunting trespassers that trespassed into Locksley. He stopped doing anything useful other than drinking to stupor, haunting of animals to feed on and listening to canticles that really touched the heart.
Ryan was still in inebriated state when he heard strange sound in the wood. Ryan Jericho was the only being who had chosen the brimming forest as an abode. He had complained his transformation into a supernatural had slunk him to being reclusive.
He felt he no longer deserved the gregarious life of human beings since he wasn’t one anymore. Ryan Jericho had only one brother who never wanted him to be a supernatural.
But Ryan wouldn’t listen to that even though he never liked being a supernatural either, but it was the deep urge to save his people that made him to. And ever since he had become the hybrid, Ryan had told his brother he would quit living among them. Even after his brother begged him to stay, Ryan was still obstinate.
Hence the reason he built a cabin where he resided. The so-called cabin was built at the extreme innards of the forest where he, Ryan could boast that nobody had ever set a wink on.
Well, perhaps, someone or two had people had. Those two were Alzarius—the witch that turned him into a hybrid and Lazarus—a monk and the only friend Ryan kept.
Ryan stopped miming to the song he was listening to, he reduced the volume of the stereo then pried his ear-drum to get a reasonable dosage of the sound coming from the woods. Being a hybrid, the ability to pick long shards of sounds was as easy as Peter cursorily betrayed Christ. The sound streaming into his ear-drum described it was footsteps—footseps of human being. Definitely that was intruder in his den.
Immediately his furrow constringed, while his dark-blue eyes morphed into crimson-red, stinking of ire. He removed the bottle of the inebriant from the slavery of his arm, took a long-lasting swig from the pit of it then flung the useless thing away uselessly.
He strode forward in a clumsy unsteady gait—sincere blame to the intoxicant in control of his legs, roved his eyes around the recess of his cabin to ascertain the intruder had not gained entrance already. A twirp sound caught his attention under the table his stereo was laying. He bent over to see a mouse struggling to enjoy the uncomfortable solace of the table.
The little rodent was making a screak sound as it roamed about under table when Ryan grasped it abruptly.
He pressed his lips with right index finger. “Ssshhh. Stop yelling you little slutty thing” He cussed, as he brandished the poor rodent over his face. The rodent seemed to hear his wielder as it stopped twirping and casted a look that could draw high priced empathy from the devil himself. The look that meant it was begging for is life.
But Ryan was not moved by the rodent who was staring innocently at him. He was ready squelch the pitiable life of the mouse. The little creature seemed to do progress to arouse the wraith of his past. The wraith he vowed to pelt away into the world of bygones.
Having thought accepting his immortality would crave happiness-eternal for him, he had decided to see it as a gift he needed to cherish and embrace in other to have a fulfilled life. Of course he had that happiness, but it just was just momentary after all. Because now he had started rueing over not being able love Regina.
Immortality had deprived him of the love and affection from the lady of his fantasy. The lady he wished he could grow old and rusty with, while still in love her. Now, looking at the tiny creature in his hand with the most enticing innocent look, it made him feel that was the life he deserved. A life so flawless, a life so innocent. Not the type that fed on blood, that had to take an animal’s life before he could survive, the life that could not be with Regina.
“Don’t kill the creature Ryan, you should have inkling idea you are hurting it.” Ryan swerved his head to the angle the voice crept from, it was from his only friend— Lazarus
Lazarus was a monk who had also chosen a recluse life like his friend. Apart from the fact that monks were known to always stay reclusive, Lazarus didn’t just choose that because of his status, but had chosen that in other to make it easier for him to fulfil the promise he made to someone long time ago.
One perceptible feature on Lazarus was his beard. Thick hair flooded his face—from his temple down to his neck region was crested with thick fugly beard. Beard that looked like it had never been greeted with a razor for once. While the ones that grew round his moustache would have countless of times upset his petite mouth due to strands that escaped into them whenever the monk talked.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t squelch life of this tiny thing friend?” Ryan blurted, directing his attention on the rodent.
“Because that’s not who you are Ryan. You are not a monster.” The monk said calmly, walking towards him.
Ryan scoffed. “Spare me that, you and I know I’m not human being either.” He countered. “And just to boost that tiny brain of yours, you have an idea how many of animals I’ve fed on? How many of them I’ve killed just to quench my urge? I’m a freaking monster! Dam!”
The monk shook his head. “Ryan you only fed on them because you have to.” Lazarus placed more emphasis on the ‘feed’ and that had given a vivid picture of his mouth resembling an anus—a cow’s anus actually.
“You didn’t just kill them for fun.” He continued. “But I could bet my life on it that you are not supping the liquid of that mouse, you only want to waste it in response to the emotion budding in you right now. Ryan you have to fight it. You are not a monster! Let it go” Lazarus said, almost in a command.
Ryan hurled the rodent away and the little thing scurried for safety. “I’m just tired of this.
I’m tired of the way I am. I don’t want to be vampire! I don’t want to be freaking werewolf. All I want is being human. I want to fall in love!” He raved on while his eyes watered with tears.
Lazarus scoffed. “So love has been the reason for your insane act?” Lazarus moved close to Ryan, post a quizzical look on him. “So love it is? Love is the reason your emotion is being boiled up right?”
Ryan pulled a grimace and didn’t say anything. Instead he returned the stare he was being shot with. He couldn’t blame Lazarus that much. What could a monastic know about love? Of course he knew how monastics had always been determined to live a sequestered life of chastity, life striped off from beguiling whims and indulgence, but that was their choices not his. He didn’t choose a sequestered life; neither did he choose to be a celibacy. So why would life honour him such a request? What a cruel life was.
“So you now drink? So what happened to you being a teetotaller? Lazarus’s eyes located the bottle of liquor resting in a corner. He had always known Ryan to be teetotaller. A total abstainer. Someone that found it hard to taste an alcohol just like how it is hard for a Nigerian officer to stop collecting a remittal of twenty naira from hapless transporters striving to make earnings. The monk was grossly disappointed, and it was evident in his anus-shaped mouth.
He walked to where Ryan was and gave him a grim stare “Tell me Ryan, I said do you now drink?” He asked pointing to the bottle.
“Gweerrk” Ryan belched, blessing Lazarus’s bearded-face with thick stench of alcohol like it was a perfect response to his question.
The monk contorted his face in disgust. “Common, what a silly act is that?” He asked, his contorted face still saying mummified still.
“Gweeeeeeeeeeerk” Another long chronic belch escaped his gorge, blessing Lazarus’s face the more. Lazarus almost puked. He was irritated and made to move.
“Soo-rry” An apology came slurrily.
Lazarus sighed and stared at Ryan with a scowl.
Ryan scoffed. “I said I’m so-o-ory.” He slurred out again.
Lazarus drilled a stare on him before tapping his forehead with his palm; how silliest the crazy thing called love could reduce a mighty bairn into. It was evident Ryan was suffering from the same fate also.
“I came to tell you something Ryan.
Something so crucial that it has to do with life & death” Lazarus said, tricking out a loud thundering jape from Ryan.
“Lazarus.” Ryan called.
“Ryan I’m serious about th-”
“Lazarus!!” Ryan yelled, cutting him short.
“Yes”
“Please don’t tell me you are dying because no more Jesus on earth to do another resurrection on you, or else, perhaps, you may want to have some vampire blood in your body before you die?” Ryan codded, totally in oblivion of the foreboding evil reeking proudly in the air.
The monk snubbed his jest, as he delved out a talisman from a pocket of his raiment.
“Take this Ryan” He stretched it out to him.
Ryan scoffed and threw an askance look on the object. “What’s this?” He mouthed.
“It’s a talisman Ryan. It’s made up of the four elements of nature; the fire, the water, the air and the earth. You need to always put this round your neck every time of the day to prevent any kind of magic from working on you.
Ryan, I foresee death looming around you.
Please, you need to take this.” Lazarus begged, stretching out the talisman to him.
Ryan hurled a petard look at the monk as the statement came down from his mouth— to him, the words appeared as the most ludicrous sound ever to spiel into his ear- drum. Perhaps his friend was sick, or had gone mentally deranged to the core. But he should have hinted him so he could cure him with his vampire’s blood.
“Ryan, you need to collect this from me please.” The monk said pleadingly, hoping Ryan would collect the talisman from him.
Ryan scoffed. “Laz, I’m not collecting it.” He declared vehemently.
“Why?” The monk asked looking very worried.
Ryan threw a haughty shrug. “Because I can’t die; I’m immortal” He replied grimly.
His words were also spiced with haughtiness.
Meshach could see how obstinate Ryan was.
His friend shook his head in pity and walked away from him. He felt a very gory death fast approaching on Ryan but there was no way he could help him without collecting the talisman.
He just wished Ryan know what he knew, see what he saw, then perhaps he would do what he would have done to escape from the death hovering on him.
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