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Something nudged his shoulder. Caleb snorted. He was lying crumpled with his head in his arms on the surface of the bar. He had been dreaming. Something nudged his shoulder again. From the corner of his eye he could see it was a gloved hand. Something about observing that made him feel the need to recoil, forcing him to shoot up and face whatever it was that was touching him. The person in question did not even flinch at this, and continued to observe him with a placid interest. It was the red headed newlywed again. Why was she so incapable of leaving him alone?

"They're closing the bar" she informed him, cocking her head again in the way that made her bangs fall about just like Ophelia's used to, the way that Caleb hated to see imitated. "The barman rather rudely suggested that he was going to try and throw you out bodily, but I managed to convince him that a gentle reminder would do both you and him better." Her husband stood by her, looking far less confident about this than she had implied the barman was.

"I don't need babysitting" Caleb replied, getting to his feet. He winced as a bolt of pain shot through his temples as the light hit him in such a way as to make him feel paralyzed.

"What is it that you do need?" she inquired, observing all this with a knowing eye. "It is our duty as civilized human beings to try and relieve the suffering of others. Those without pain do not find themselves all alone by themselves in bars."

"I don't need babysitting, and I sure as hell don't need your pity!" Caleb snapped back, his head pounding. The husband stepped forward and tried to get between the two of them again just as he had done before on the wraparound deck, but the lady reached out one of her gloved hands and gently held the man back.

"You need something" she continued undeterred. "Something you always force and shove away, something that would allow you to accept the charity and compassion of others, something that would allow you to express your own humanity."

"I gave that up long ago" Caleb replied, growing increasingly tired of this conversation. "To continue searching for it is pointless. To act like you understand is insulting. Now, please, get the hell out of my way."

"Then make me understand" she offered, not willing to let it go. "Make me understand what it is that is troubling you." Caleb's eyes began glowing even more ominously, and for the first time the lady reacted, finally accepting that it was not all just a trick of the light. She began to back away but Caleb's arm shot out and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, knocking her husband aside as he went.

"You want to understand?" he stated, his eyes continuing to increase in luminescence. She froze and shivered, her own wide eyes now showing white with fear. Something moved somewhere behind the woman's shoulder. Caleb spotted the culprit but did not have time to react. A shot rang out, hitting the lady in the back, blood spurting out of her chest as she let out one last final gasp. Caleb had inadvertently used her to shield himself from the attack.

"Cruo-stragaraNa malachtose!" the cultist cried out in its archaic tongue, as Caleb gently let the woman slide to the ground. Her husband, who had watched the proceedings in muted horror, rushed over and began to cradle his no longer blushing bride in his arms. Caleb reached into his trench coat and brought out his sawed off, preparing to go off in search of the bloodcurdling voice.

"If only you had loved the world less, and I had loved your love more..." the husband began, tears streaming off his face. Caleb turned at the sound of it, his eyes still burning threateningly, his heart conflicted, his inhibitions strong and uncontrolled.

"Just shut up!" he cried, unloading both shells into the grieving widower. The couple now lay together on the floor, blood oozing out of their wounds, their hands clasped together in one final display of matrimony. He felt the bloodlust continue to well up within him; all of the patience and restraint he had shown earlier on the trip was gone. He smiled, the thought of the cultist that was now roaming the decks entering his mind again. "Victims, aren't we all?" he commented to the corpses, before swaggering off towards the door.
Some might recall that I had previously made mention as part of the Blood Wiki's sixth anniversary that I had plans to once again invest some of my time in an area of Blood fandom that I had formerly been quite involved in. To that end I present Scroll, a story I originally began in the summer of 2008 as a kind of retelling of the story behind Cryptic Passage in an attempt to bring it further in line with the main Blood canon. Designed to be published in multiple parts, I shall endeavour to release a new instalment of Scroll every Sunday from March 9th on until the story is complete.
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:iconcybermage303:
cybermage303 Featured By Owner Edited Sep 1, 2014
Love how he puts the husband out of his misery. Rather to die with your beloved than live without her for years like our friend does now. Or maybe it was just cause he was annoying, both can work. ;)

Also, there is a mistake in the line "To act you like you understand is insulting." I honestly don't give two damns about minor errors like that cuz I make them all the time but maybe you do so I thought I'd let you know. Keep up the good writing btw.
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:iconhamishpaulwilson:
hamishpaulwilson Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2014
Can you please be more specific, because I can not see anything?
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:iconcybermage303:
cybermage303 Featured By Owner Edited Sep 4, 2014
"I gave that up long ago" Caleb replied, growing increasingly tired of this conversation. "To continue searching for it is pointless. To act you like you understand is insulting. Now, please, get the hell out of my way."

That first "you" is unnecessary.
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:iconhamishpaulwilson:
hamishpaulwilson Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014
Alright, I see it now and have had it fixed.  I've just been working too hard I guess...
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:iconcybermage303:
cybermage303 Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014
It really isn't a big deal. Most of the typing errors I make are usually due to my fast typing speed. My thoughts come out faster than my fingers can keep up, and so my sentences sometimes may not make sense. Quite annoying that I constantly need to proofread.
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