Disclaimer: I do not know any of the BSB nor do I claim to know their orientation. The following piece of writing is merely a figment of my imagination. Also, this story contains content of an adult nature (M/M situations). All under 18 are advised to not continue reading.
*********************8
Kevin lay Nick's lithe body on the worn down mattress, careful not to let his body slip. In a fit of bitter envy, I quickly pushed his hands away from Nick and placed myself between them. I knew I was being brash. I knew I seemed like a jealous fiend, but I couldn't help myself. I was scared enough as is just seeing Nick's unconscious body on the bed. His fair skin exposed to us all, unlike the pale green skin of that body we found inside that glass case.
"Nick?" My voice wavered until it finally cracked. "How ya doing?" I managed. Kevin tried to push me away from Nick, but I shoved his hands away again. I then turned to look at the woman who I knew had the answers. I gazed at her with nothing but upset eyes, my body aching for some answer to all this absurdity.
The woman's pale gray eyes stared back at me with something slightly more than compassion. She nodded knowingly. "You come to seek answers from me," she stated simply.
I nodded quietly. Kevin and Aj could only verbalize a weak "yes".
The woman's eyes watered, the sadness now showing on her frail body, her face devoid of happiness. She gazed at me intensely before speaking . . .
"I shall speak of the beginnings then . . . " She paused, collecting her thoughts into something coherent before she began. "His father named him Nickolas, just because he thought that name had sounded so elegant, so polished . . . " the lady lightly touched her fingertips to Nick's smooth face. She sighed.
"Thousands of years ago . . . when neither vampires nor Almans existed, one man had this incredible knack for the occult. He dabbled in black magic and crossed the seas to learn all the wonders of the world, absorbing information like a dry sponge, yearning for more knowledge. He was clever and brilliant. At the age of 30, he had unraveled many of the mysteries of the different religions and mysterious forces on Earth. So full of knowledge was he that he finally decided to settle in the Misty Mountains, turning all this knowledge and magic in his head.
He led a secluded life in the Mountains, although rather discontent with the knowledge. He began to mess around with them, mixing religion with magic. He was eclectic and crazy. Yet within five years, he had developed an art far more dangerous than anyone would have ever imagined. He delved into the art of the soul and of the body, separating the two and developing each separately.
With the soul, he learned to materialize it and control it with powers of another dimension. With the body, he learned to utilize it without the need for blood nor oxygen. Hence, he had created within himself two fascinating worlds of power and mystery. By now, he no longer wanted to remain on the Misty Mountains. His mind started drifting to his well-practiced powers and he had descended the Misty Mountains to claim fortune and glory.
And he did. He created himself an empire, attracting multiple youths into his army with the promise that they too would share some knowledge. Yet no one was bright enough to master both the art of the soul and the art of the body. Hence, he divided his followers into two groups--the Almans . . . and the vampires. Each with special, although not mutually exclusive, powers. The two groups fought hand in hand to help create the empire.
Soon, this leader's dream had matured and he was sitting on top of the world, women flaunting at his feet, yearning for his attention, fawning for his love. Yet, none of his love interests were able to produce him a child, which had baffled him greatly. He wanted an heir. He wanted a son. But no womb was strong enough to nurture one . . .
Until one night, the coldest night of that year, he was blessed with the seed that would withstand time and grow into a fetus and later an infant boy. He named his son Nickolas . . . "
I took in a deep breath, hearing Nick's name being called out in such a gentle way. I shared this lady's sentiments. I too, sighed. Yet, I was too awed by the story to interrupt. The lady continued.
"Nickolas' mother died the moment he was brought out of her womb, unable to sustain the pain of labor. Nickolas was placed under my care. He was . . . amazing . . . just like his father. His abilities to command the forces of nature came intuitively. But unlike his father, he was at peace with himself, never once bothering much about leadership and power. He much preferred taking quiet strolls in the garden or reading. This upset his father greatly.
Yet his father never yelled at him. The man loved Nickolas to death despite their differences. He would allow Nickolas to do anything the child pleased. Yet, Nickolas was so easily satisfied with his life. It had seemed that everything looked calm and quiet. Nickolas' father ruled justly. And during the night, he and Nickolas would share ideas and exchange new abilities. Nickolas had a knack for creation.
But the more Nickolas learned, the less settled the Almans and vampires were. Knowing that separately, their powers would not be strong enough to control Nickolas and his father, they decided to join forces, to oust the leadership. They sent Vincent to seduce Nickolas and create a rift between him and his father.
However, their plan backfired. Nickolas was edging towards his prime, his face gentile and absolutely beautiful. So many women had fallen for him hard, only to find out that he did not even notice them. So many men had wanted him so badly that they shamelessly embarrassed themselves to no end.
And Vincent was no exception. His job was to seduce Nickolas, but eventually, he had fallen hard, fighting between his lust and his duty. He succeeded in winning Nickolas' heart, making the boy yearn for him and forget about the empire that was to be handed down to him by his father. Nickolas was unsuspecting at first, but as time drew near, he felt the weight of terror on his shoulders. He had sensed the weariness and discontent of his father's followers. And then, Vincent disappeared rather abruptly one day. By then, my young Nickolas knew that the time had come, when the followers would usurp the power of the leader, that he and his father were fighting a very unforgiving battle.
Nickolas ran to his father that night that Vincent had abandoned him after taking away his virginity. He ran back to the castle to plead his case to his father, to beg his father to run away with him. That night, the two of them argued for what seemed like an eternity. Nickolas knew a way out. True it was a bit risky, but they had no other choice. It was them vs an entire legion of raging followers who feared their powers too much.
But Nickolas father refused to remove himself from the empire he took his whole lifetime to create. The two stayed in the hidden chambers of the palace, blocking out the advances of their followers turned enemy. They argued, Nickolas refusing to leave without his father. They argued to the wee small hours of the night. They continued to argue until it was too late and they could no longer attempt their escape.
The vampires and the Almans had joined forces and stood firmly rooted outside their chamber. Nickolas lay kneeled by his father's side in the cold gloomy chambers, realizing that there was no way out, that they both would die that night, alone in the cold chambers. They were to die without sympathy and without hope.
The vampires and the Almans waited as they slowly drained themselves of their powers without much to feed on. In those chambers, Nickolas and his father waited to die. They had long discussions in there, which I am forbidden to reveal, but the discussions were often bitter and depressing. Just think . . . night after night of endless torture and no hope . . . for ten years. They were locked in those chambers with no escape for ten years . . .
And suddenly, one day, the vampires and the Almans no longer had the patience to wait. They barged into the chambers and found the two men, the father laying on the bed, his body already decayed beyond recognition with nothing but bones left. And then, there was Nickolas, his body still and quiet, albeit still alive.
The vampires and Almans were upset by this revelation. They had spent so much time ready to destroy the father, only to learn that he had died on his own, painless, untortured.
So they took it out on Nickolas, who by now, was fighting his own battle. They took him to the prison chambers and tortured him greedily, making up for ten years of waiting. The only people that heard his cries of anguish were the ones who didn't give a damn. They cut through his skin with the bluntest of knives, seeping his wounds with alcohol and salt. They dragged his body around the castle grounds, making sure that he was thoroughly humiliated, that all modesty was gone. And then, the men took him to their sleeping quarters, using him to quench their feelings of domination and lust.
Yet they didn't let him die. They wanted to prolong his agony as much as he and his father had made them wait those ten years. He had no one to sympathize with. He transformed from this gentile, elegant heir to a dirty, haggard prisoner before our eyes. He lost so much weight, his skin becoming an unhealthy pale green. His body became more fragile, more disposable. His cries of pain only reached deaf ears. So many nights, I had to hold my tears, knowing that I could not help him until he was dead. I could do him no good until they finally had mercy on him and killed him.
And they finally did . . . after ten years of torture, they killed him in the most brutal, merciless way they could think of. They tore his eyelids off, letting him witness his death to every last second. They chained him to the walls in the Armaments room and used every weapon imaginable to destroy his body. They seared his skin with fire, mashed every bone in his body. They slit his limbs, his abdomen, his chest and then his throat. And they left him there in the cold room to die by himself. It took him five days in that room until he finally let go of his final breath without anyone to care for him, without anyone to watch. It was simply pure silence that accompanied him those last five days. They took his body and sealed it in the glass case for all to see.
But the torture was over. His soul was free. As good as the Almans were at stealing soul, they could not destroy them. So what they did was confine his soul. They confined it to a place that would see no living forms. They brought it to the edges beyond the Misty Mountains to the fiery volcano. There, they linked the soul deep into the hot melting lava, to be forever tortured by the heat and loneliness. And there, the soul had been confined since. The father's soul was never to be found. I suspect that Nickolas had something to do with it.
Soon afterwards, the vampires and the Almans had made a rule. No vampire shall have a sexual relationship with an Alman, for if the two were to create a child, that child would be strong enough to harbor Nickolas' soul, if he were to ever get a hold of the body. The rule set a rift between the two races, and the two races soon grew into disfavor as they began arguing over the most minute of events. And now, see what has happened to the two races. They virtually try to destroy one another!"
We were all breathless by the magnificent history behind the two races and none of us could think of anything intelligent to say at first. I stared at Nick's face and suddenly felt a pang of jealousy. I didn't know why that feeling consumed me. Maybe it was because he could never belong to me, because his existence is the crucial link between our two races. He was too significant of a person to be able to hide him in my own home, to keep him away from others.
I looked back to the old lady and finally asked, "so the soul that is now in his body . . . is that the soul of the Nickolas from thousands of years ago?"
The lady sighed. Nick's body was born twenty years ago to the heirs to the Alman and vampire kingdoms. When he was born, his soul was new, chaste, just as his body was. He grew up, knowing his destiny and fearing that his body would be used for evil if another soul were to consume it. He was afraid that this ancient soul that the Almans and the vampires so desperately discarded would control him. I think a lot of it had to do with this fear that the soul from thousands of years ago would come back to haunt and take vengeance upon your two races. I think your Nick, the one you grew up with, was very concerned about your well-being and wanted to discard his body before the soul that had lived in pain and loneliness in the volcanoes would take over his body.
He would have succeeded. His powers were strong enough to fend off unwelcomed souls. But he must have been weakened in some way, to render his body completely exposed. Thus, the soul that had been strapped to the volcano beyond the Misty Mountains had found its way into Nick's body and began to control his every move, his deepest thoughts. Once that ancient soul and the new body clashed, the body started to yield to a new master, and the memories started to rebuild themselves. In essence, you are correct. The body that you now see harbors the memories of the ancient Nickolas, not the one that you grew to love."
I cringed and asked, "So you're saying that the Nick that I know . . . our Nick from the BSB . . . is gone?" My heart pounded mercilessly.
The lady shook her head. "Yes. The Nick you know and that child I knew thousands of years ago . . . are two separate entities, both drawn into the same body, but both with different memories."
Kevin suddenly spoke up. "That spirit from thousands of years ago must have been drawn to Nick's body in some way. I mean sure, Nick is created by an Alman and a vampire, but all that torture that he endured in these past years must have attracted that ancient spirit into his body."
AJ shook his head violently. "Nuh uh. I don't want no strange spirit inside Nick's body. If anything, it's creepy and uncalled for."
My lips quivered. "What if . . . what if that soul didn't have a choice. What if the soul was sucked into Nick's body . . . like a vacuum?"
"Or maybe, the two souls are sharing one body," the lady offered quietly. "It's a symbiotic relationship."
It was my turn to shake my head in disgust. I finally looked away from the others to gaze back at Nick. But to my shock, his eyes were open, his expression intent, as if he focused on every word that we said. "Nick . . . " I whispered, awed.
Those lavender eyes blinked once to the sound of his name. Then he turned his head to face me, smiling gently. "You're cute!" he remarked, making my heart skip a beat. No . . . he's not the Nick I knew. I felt like crying my eyes off, but held back.
Nick then looked at the lady and sighed. "Nana," he called out to her. The tears flowed freely from her face now as she approached his supine form and hugged him in one of the most emotional moments I had ever seen.
I started to cry, too. I didn't cry because of my joy that the nanny and her ancient child had found each other. I cried for the loss of my Nick. I cried for the cherished times we spent together, playing pranks on all the other guys. I cried for those erotic nights when he would simply lay there and expose his neck to me, letting me drink the nectar that flowed through his veins. I cried for that night when he placed those fireflies into my hands and created the most beautiful night for me. And worse, I cried for the unspoken promises of love that were lost. No . . . this creature was not my Nick. This soul is not mine to keep.