-Novel- Chapter 1: Eyes

 
Chapter 1: Eyes

…Tortured Souls wander amongst the frigid moor
Weeping for their broken Hearts of loneliness and sorrow
Oh damned Souls- a curse upon your wailing tears of dark empty eyes
May you find the light as you wander the empty promise of Life…  
 

 
    Blood is but a color, some would say. Some may call it a life force, a calling, a need. I myself, call it a distraction. I am not an Otherkin, nor am I a crazed up drug addict- I'm simply a human. A boring, normal, human. Still, I cannot deny the beauty of blood in my mind. Perhaps a misguided fascination of the occult, or a simple glitch of the brain, this I hope. 
  
   What can I say? I see blood and I'm drawn to it- to touch and smell and see its burgundy bloom. Would I drink it? Yes. Would I bathe in its rich lacquer? Yes. Would I draw it? Absolutely. 

   Society sees me as a simple being stressed over simple things. Few know me as my true nature- a lonely soul searching for their mate. Not a friend- a mate. I'm far more primitive than my modern counterparts…ironic, seeing as how I'm ahead of my time. I wish the Otherkin existed, so that I could meet an Alpha…and learn to become an Alpha of my own soul…

   My mind floated in and out of the lesson my teacher was explaining- ionic mass? No thanks. "And so this atom can only be written as…" Her words trailed off into the air-conditioned room that held sleeping bodies and tired minds. Sitting in the back gave me the advantage of sleeping undetected, but left my head with little stimulation.

   My thoughts returned to the Otherkin- rumored creatures like Sanguinarians, Lycans, Elves, Dragons, and beings of the like…they all made for an interesting story, but they held no place in reality.

   Looking down to the Paranormal Periodical on my desk, I smiled half-heartedly. "Could you be a vampire or werewolf?" the red-colored text splashed across the page. I turned the pages, glancing over glossy photos of "beings." 'Whatever,' I thought, lightly dragging my nails along the magazine bindings. Picking at the staples which secured the paper cleared the excess energy of my boredom. My eyes flitted to the teacher for a moment- she was babbling on about bonds and the like. I looked down again, staring at the questions printed in smooth font.

   'Useless…' I grimaced, crossing my arms and glaring at the paper. No one- no sane person would honestly try to prove that they were "special." Even in the Otherkin existed…no, it didn't exist. I had to stop fooling myself. I sighed and ran my fingers through my long auburn hair from the routine of everyday life, looking over the questions anyhow. "Are you exceptionally good-looking?" Ha! So even one's species now amounted to the passing of external looks huh? 'Tis a shame... A small smile escaped my lips at the thought of it all.

   I wasn't exceptionally beautiful or ugly, simply ordinary. I was rather in the middle, generally towering over my teachers with my six foot five stance. Being of mostly European origin, my skin was pale, but not in a sickly-looking way. Finding my hair an ornamental part of my body,  I resisted cutting it and grew it out to my mid back, letting it lay as it wished. In physical education I was able to build compact muscle, but I merely did so naturally and without care.  All this with my naturally cerulean eyes made me the target of anonymous letters of admiration from the female perspective. I suppose the modern term is 'hot.'

   Tired of the magazine and the lecture, I laid my head to rest, hoping sleep would come. Though my eyelids drooped lazily, I couldn't slip off into the Sandman's domain. Was it the placement of my arms? No, they were as they always are. The annoying scratching of note-taking lead? No, that was a constant of the academic ambitious. My eyes cast to the right and saw but a struggling student. My eyes cast to the left- nothing. I sat up to peer about the room, looking for that which prevented me from reaching my solace…

   Turned out that the issue wasn't in the room. It was outside. It was on an adjacent roof seen through the large window…and it was staring straight at me.

   My eyes widened and I sharply took in oxygen. I took in air not from fear, but simply the shock of the eyes upon me. Though not far off, the creeping fog and impending snow kept my eyes from making out the subject- all I could see (and feel) were its eyes. "Who the hell is that?" I muttered, furrowing my brow and straining my eyes in vain.

   The teacher heard my utterance, and her droning voice immediately filled the spacious room- a feat none thought possible. "Mr. Lecroux, what did you just say?" She butchered my surname, pronouncing it as "Lee-croaks" rather than "Leh-crow." I ignored the snickers at her blatant mispronunciation of my name. Bastards.

   I seemingly pierced her eyes with my gaze as my direct, unblinking stare bade her features to falter- nonchalantly in fact. "I asked a simple question." Not a lie, but not entirely the truth. She narrowed her eyes at my response. "Would you care to repeat it?" "I would not."

   I looked out the window to see if the figure was there. It wasn't. As the teacher's voice kept trying to reach me. My thoughts whirled about my head. Who was that? Why were they there? How did they- "Mr. Lecroux!" That voice…  

   Turning my head back towards the teacher in exasperation, one couldn't help but let their resentment show through. "If you intend to call me- do so correctly or don't do it at all," I said icily. Varied sounds, oohs and gasps emanated from the other students as the teacher stood in disbelief. Had I gone mad? Quite possibly, as my ragged gaze depicted one with nothing to lose.  

   Feeling rather irritable and careless (perhaps stupid and hot-headed as well) I began to gather my things.

   "Where do you think you're going?!" She finally spat out, her heavily powdered face turning red from fury. I cracked an innocent yet oddly dark smile as I pulled on my coat and backpack. "To a classroom with a decent lesson to learn," I remarked. Gangster wannabes howled their expressions of "Can you believe that?" "Nah man!" " He loco!" and so on while the grade-obsessed unwillingly let their pens and pencils drop with their jaws. "Mr.Lecroux you've earned yourself a ticket to the office," the teacher fumbled, attempting to regain her composure and control. I inwardly smiled at her failure to establish control over me. "No thanks, I'd rather walk." 

   Having the last word was a feeling of such satisfaction, even as I knew I created such discord. Ah well, gives that sad excuse something to talk about. With the teacher's painted face screeching about respect and 'place', I turned and walked out the door.

   Step by step I strode down the hall, my thoughts stale within my brain. I couldn't fully understand it myself- the figure in the fog, the animosity. I felt as if a burial shroud descended upon my shoulders. One foot in front of the other, I walked a steady and brisk walk within the bricked building. 

   'That's right,' I thought as I entered the glass walkway that seemed to feature the world outside as if it were a photograph.  The inlaid open breezeway gave rise to the magnificent windows that extended from the second story floor to the roof,  presenting one an overhead view of the courtyard below. Standing there with the falling snow outside, I couldn't help but wonder of my origins, as most humans often do. I closed my eyes and tuned out the present. Just as the falling snow swirled and flew about, so did my mind slip back to my much younger years…
 
"Mom, what's happening?" 
"Please go back to bed darling, it'll be ok."
"Mom-something's wrong, something's not right!"
"Alexiel, please! Go back to bed-go back to-" 

   "Lecroux!" A coarse, angry country voice snorted obnoxiously. My eyes jolted open and my conscious was brought back to reality as I heard my name called (and again, mispronounced.) I needn't look to know who the voice belonged to. 

   So, they sent Edwinn Parsley- the Hound. A portly and short redneck man with mustache and aviator glasses, he looked the part of an (if not suitable) enforcer, a fitting prerequisite to his actual occupation. Being head of school security gave him jurisdiction over us all, so he felt. As to his nickname? Begin to even think of concocting a little scheme or plan and he'll sniff you out like the universal dog he is.

   I forced myself to look out the window, not wishing for the Hound to have knowledge of how to evoke any specific reaction so intimately. One may suppose that my mind is written as a military manual against the enemy, yet such is not the case. I simply embrace my ability to think analytically…to think for myself.

   I recovered quickly from his interruption of my thoughts, and allowed myself the pleasure of casting out any sense of control. "Hello Hall-Monitor." One could sense the anger surging to his face at the sound of disrespect. "Listen you little shit- you're going to address me like I'm supposed to be or I'll-" "Or you'll what? Send me to the office?" What was I saying? What was I doing?! It was my senior year- a year to end it all on good terms and carry on to college, not start a fight with every faculty I met. 

   When did my self-control go to hell? What happened to make me feel so argumentative, to feel so…feel…the feeling….the feeling of eyes! I quickly looked out the window to see the figure from before in the snow, staring as a statue stared into eternity. I pressed against the window in an attempt to make out the form. My god…

  The Hound roughly tore me away from the glass, catching me off guard. "I'll send you somewhere you dirt!"

  The colorful colors of the art hallway, the posters promoting the Christmas festivities, banners supporting the varsity football team, it all flew by in a blur as the Hound sought out the front office. Down the halls and stairs we marched, his hand never leaving the cuff of my shirt, his rancid breath haunting my nose (I suppose that's why he was forever single.) My nostrils burned in such a way with every curse word he spit that I quickly took comfort in the office doors looking ahead.

   "Get in there." He opened the door and forcefully shoved me in. I'll admit, I'm a bit of an eyesore to the school administration. I made average grades, but really great enemies. The Hound, was such.  

   I stepped into the office and looked out to the desk. A great desk was in the front left-hand corner of the room, surrounded by filing cabinets and wires as the large monitor displayed snippets of school business. Attendance, forms to get out to teachers, district memos.  Two hallways led to the back offices of the head school faculty. Along the bright white walls with blue trim ran blue chairs for those awaiting to meet with the principal or take care of school business. 'Empty....' I thought with surprise, for no one yet sat in any chair that was generally occupied.    

   "Mr. Parsley- another student?" the familiar front receptionist routinely asked. She was a kind woman who had a sweet face that was rarely judgmental or pushy. Long ago she grew accustomed to my face- seeing me almost weekly. She had a strict sense of justice, and so even though she could let me escape punishment (as she is a dear family friend), she brought down her gavel to the degree. To her, Edwin Parsley was good at his job- though perhaps, too good.

  "Yes Ma'am, and one we know well enough…" He leered at me behind his glasses. I silently took my unofficial seat by the receptionist's desk in the waiting area with a small smile. After all, I was here often.

   She sighed and looked back down at the day's paperwork underneath her spectacles. "What is the charge?" "Insubordination." The Hound cleared his throat in an attempt to contain his smirk. The receptionist looked to me rather bored. Her dark hair and Asian complexion were prominent features, but not so much so as her pursed lips. "Anything you have to say?" "I deny no such charge," I coolly replied, leaning back into the wall. "Thank you Mr. Parsley, I'll take it from here."

   The Hound left, seemingly pleased with himself and his early start of the day. I sat in silence with the receptionist for a time- I, listening to the endless beat of the clock above my head, her, repeating her signature for various forms. Minutes passed by as I began to question her link with reality (was she aware of my presence?) Perhaps she was too busy to register my form against the painted walls… I decided to test my theory.

    I slowly began to rise out of my chair when she called to me, still signing papers and sorting through pamphlets. "You might as well call your mother, Alexiel." My eyes looked to her, my thoughts frozen at the mention of my dearest friend and caretaker. "Why?" I bit my lip and looked away. The receptionist sighed once again before turning to me.

   "You know why, Al. Starting fights? Skipping class? I may be your family friend, but I can't condone any of that. This is your third offense in three days- three days!" The receptionist shook her head in disbelief, for even I made no point to visit so often. I looked down to my lap, not ashamed but disliking the act of disappointing those I care deeply for. "So I am to be sent home?" The receptionist pointed to the phone upon the wall. "Home. Good gravy Alexiel- I've put this off for as long as I could to spare your mother of your troubles- even then-" As she went on with her words of lecture, I almost choked. 'That feeling…'

   I quickly sat up and looked around, earning a huff of irritability from the reception. "Mr.Lecroux I am speaking to y-" Yes, she was speaking to me, but whatever she spoke was lost, for in the doorway stood a girl…A girl with uncomforting, piercing eyes.