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The Discarded Book 1

The Umbrae Lunae existed before man, beautiful abominations birthed in the nightmares of mad gods. They wait for humanity to misstep, for the angels to look away. For the moment when they can cloak the world in moon shadows once again. But even horrors have children. Even nightmares must feed. One child, unlike the others, finds his way to a school for young abominations. Will he be a sheep cast before the wolves, or a terror that wears the skin of wool to entice the wolf close? The flesh of his body was his only coin, strips cut to pay debts that never ended. Everyone has scars, stories in a life led, lessons learned, and licks taken. Luminous bodies touched by darkness. There are a cursed few that are the opposite, black shadows consumed by scars, twisted minds devoured by diseased hungers, bodies tortured misshapen works of gouged flesh, silver lines of blade thin cuts, ragged tears of teeth and glass. For them, the scars are marks of homecoming, the mangled wasteland the only place they feel at peace. Hell is a place. It's made of concrete, steel and glass. It's the sounds of starving kids crying themselves to sleep, huddling into small balls as creepers come and take their due of innocence and tender meat. It's eating rotten food and carrying ticks in your hair. It’s having no one and nothing while surrounded by everything. It's the life of a street kid. What abomination was birthed in the corrupt womb of man’s cast-off shit? Pretty people don't know the power of ugly. They can't see the strength in a broken soul or the power in a calloused heart. Those secrets are for the discarded alone. Only the broken understand the grace of darkness. The blessed folds that hide scars and tears, the protection of its concealing umbra.

UncleanSoul · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
165 Chs

Alone Chapter 10 - 1

Wednesday March 4th 2015

Cesare eyed the slips of paper infesting his door, they'd breed like rabbits since the fight. The first ones had been from kids with nothing to lose. Those at the end of their rope, already falling into dark waters the clung with hooked fingers. The hopeless would try anything, knowing they were damned. Now the school knew the Furies were real, they were the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, here to rain judgment on the unbelievers.

The people coming to them now lived in the gray area between hope and suicide, they still believed they deserved better. Still whole, the pressure mounted, stress fractures spider webbing, paper thin souls cracking. They had the chance to walk away unbroken, burned by life's truths but not yet deformed by its fire.

Stripping the door of paper, Cesare shuffled through them while he took the stairs. The girls were thrilled with the uptake in needy students, seeing new converts with each save made. Their agendas were taking ground and picking up speed. That they were helping the hopeless was beside the point.

Opening the doors, he met their expectant looks. On sighting the papers, excitement kindled their eyes. It wasn't just the cold fact of cruel ambitions growing fat and proud. They enjoyed breaking other to their will, the rush of commanding with violence, they drank from the well of Aries eagerly.

Coming down the steps, he divided the papers, handing a stack to each of the girls. Today would be busy but every day was butchered into that mold, each of them racing, burning flesh and time with abandon, one step away from flaming out. No one said anything, but they all had one goal that drove them, get stronger. Strength was the only way forward for any of them. Political, personal, financial, it came to one point, if they wanted their dreams, they'd need to kill the people who were living them.

The students gave the three a wide berth watching with fearful eyes. That was one thing that had changed, the weaker students flooded the cafeteria earlier than any of them had before. A tight smile spread over Cesare's face at the students flowing in small streams around the Furies.

They were the guppies of the school, the small ones preyed on without mercy or quarter. They knew the Furies were predators, killers, living nightmares. But the Furies embodied something that drove them out of their beds at this unholy hour. It brought hope tinged smiles to faces, the Furies were a safe harbor in a jungle of shadows and teeth.

Cesare and the girls walked slowly to their table, each of them sweeping the room with careful eyes. They had their own marks, bullies singled out by a name accompanied with a skull and cross bones. They couldn't always catch the bullies in the act, sometimes they only got a name.

It wasn't ideal. Without a smoking gun, they had to rely on secondhand information, and it was possible the names had been put there to put screws to someone for kicks. Talking to them was pointless as only an idiot would confess, that left what they called soft persuasion.

Sitting down, they pulled out books and worked on Cesare's education. It was an uphill battle and not one he expected to win. With their help, he might graduate, but he'd never be as smart or knowledgeable as them. They were naturally gifted, but more than that, they'd been nurtured from an early age, gifts trained to the edge of ability, expectations pushing them to dream beyond themselves. He might pass the tests, but it was memorization not understanding.

The place filled as hours passed, each of the Furies tracking their marks as they came in. This was the perfect time, if you could break them with their friends around, shame burned the lesson to bone. Break a man when he feels at his strongest and he'll never challenge you again.

They split up with Anastasia taking her marks while Alexandra and Cesare were a team. It wasn't for his protection; it was for hers. The vampire was unstable, and everyone knew it. One mouthy student was all it would take, and they'd be cleaning blood walls after she'd ripped him apart from balls to skull. While they each had their own marks, Cesare backed up Alexandra and kept control of the volatile killer.

The students talked, laughed, shouted, and cursed, but they always kept one eye on the sharks that made their way lazily around them. Everyone knew what the Furies were doing, it had only taken one lesson for them to understand who owned the land. The cafeteria was a safe zone for bullies, the Furies hands tied on how much violence they could bring. But the Furies would find you after, and they'd hurt you until time held still and tortured, you days measured in hospital visits. It had only taken one time for the point to stick.

Student's shivered at the cold cruelty in Cesare's smile. They'd caught the guy as he was leaving school and broken more than a few bones. Once the boy hit the ground, he'd spilled his guts like a month old corpse. What the stronger students were up to had been illuminating and disgusting. It had proven they were only seeing the tip of the iceberg. The kids they were hunting had already adorned themselves with the broken souls of others whose only sin was weakness.

Cesare made for the table of his first mark. It was like a dozen other tables, guys sitting around calling insults to each other and boasting of the girls they'd never fucked. Kids high on testosterone and aggression. Guys naturally form packs, gleefully savaging everything within reach of their teeth, trying to save themselves from each other.

One by one they went quiet, locking onto his blade thin form walking to their table. Studying their food, the table became an island of silence in a sea of noise. Sliding up behind his target, Cesare laid his hands on the boy's shoulders, an involuntary shudder rippling down the victim's body. The girls weren't the only ones that enjoyed their work.

"Robin Decanter." The words swam with cruel amusement; the boys cup of water voicing a plaintive whine of stress as power caressed across its glassine surface with a razors edge. "People get confused Robin; I can call you Robin, right?" Cesare waited for the jerky nod, before continuing, "They think I'm a nice guy, that I like helping people. But I don't care a dry fuck about anyone but my friends." The shadows of the cup, arms, and bodies, of the students flattened, stretching, growing deeper and meaner, threatening by their very existence.

Leaning down, Cesare put his mouth next to the boy's ear. "I'm going to tell you the real reason I'm doing this. I like to hurt people Robin, I like to feel their flesh rupture under my hands, snapping bones, and the cries of pain. The truth is, I enjoy crippling people."

Releasing him from his hands, Cesare watched the boy slump forward with a groan of pain. "I don't think we'll have another conversation will we, Robin?"

"No, sir. I think we understand each other perfectly, sir." A thread of stark, crawling relief wormed like a maggot in the boy's words. The relief of the guilty, a death row inmate that had gotten off with a life sentence.

Cesare handled the boys exclusively while the girls worked with either sex. It was a good hour before they met back at their table with their breakfasts. Anastasia gave him a nod that said she'd gotten through her marks. By sheer statistics some had to be innocent, at least of this crime.

The rule of power was the rule of fear, at least for the Umbrae Lunae. Fear was the only thing that stayed their hungers. It was the simple, innocent fear, of having the body split open, guts feeding the teeth of unholy needs. Fear's what held the school together, and fear's what kept blood off the floors.

If an innocent was caught in Cesare's persecution, well, that only made them more dedicated to the straight and narrow. The most they inflicted on suspects was a dose of fear and a few bruises. He'd even seen the look of relief in the innocents faces knowing the Furies were watching. It was a warning, that no matter how careful you were, the Furies were ready and willing to drag you into hell if you stepped out of line.

Packing up, Cesare noticed others doing the same, the rabbits knew when the Furies left the room it was open season again. It was a sad but exhilarating fact. No one should have to go through life worried for their souls, so fearful of being hurt they hide in the shadows of abominations wedded to malice and sadism. When your safety depended on people with the morality of rabid hyena's, you knew you were fucked.

It wasn't a lot of students, just enough to make an impression. Walking out of the cafeteria, the trio watched the rabbits scurry down the hallways to their classrooms. There was a relief in their faces that hadn't been there a week ago. The Furies couldn't protect them all the time, but they could offer a safe place in a school they'd come to fear more than death. Watching the last one leave, Cesare couldn't help but promise them that one day the Furies would offer more.

Once the last of the kids had disappeared, Cesare started for class with the others. Alexandra stayed one step back and to the left, drifting away from him at each corner, making sure she got a look before Cesare ever got close to the blind spot. Anastasia stayed at his side; leather backpack cinched tight to her body, death dealing hands relaxed and ready to call the Ebon Flame at a moment's notice. Cesare was tuned to his blade, the warmth radiating up his arm through his body, an eager feeling, pure as hate.

The fight with Hitokiri had upped the stakes. No longer could the Furies be dismissed as children. They'd proven as strong as the Thagirion and that made them a threat to the establishment. It wasn't that the Thagirion were loved, but they were the bastards they knew.

Everyone but the kids eating shit at the bottom had something to lose from the rise of the Furies. Money, prestige, pride, power, honor, those with an inside lane had a vested interest in keeping it the way it was. It was a vanishingly small chance that they'd make a play to kill the Furies, but it wasn't a chance the three were willing to take.

Elizabeth looked up as they walked into class, relaxing slightly on seeing they'd made it in one piece. The entire school was a pit of predators waiting for a sign to start the massacre.

Walking by her desk, Cesare pulled out a small origami bear of deep russet. The little guy stood on hind legs, face turned up in silent supplication to paper gods. Wide and ambling, the dark bear looked like a panhandler begging for a free lunch.

Slowly reaching for the bear, there was fear in Elizabeth's fingers. "I thought … I'd never see something like this again."

Shrugging self-consciously, Cesare kept his eyes on the fragile bear. "Wasn't sure you wanted anything like it from me again." The words were little more than a husky whisper. "Got to thinking it didn't matter if you wanted them. Only if I wanted to give them."

Her fingers ran over the small bear without ever meeting his eyes. "Thank you." Swallowing, her words came slowly, each one chosen with care. "If it matters, I want them."

Stepping away, he sighed in relief. It was hard being vulnerable, hard to let her in, scary to give her another knife to cut him with. But he'd gotten something in return, if she cut him, he'd cut her. It was an adult game of you show me yours and I'll show you mine. Trust was for children, what made the world go round was pain and threats.