Marco's Heart

[peccatore]

You find yourself in a bright white, circular room. It's nearly empty; too bare, almost clinically so. But the bareness of it means that what is visible here stands out:

A podium in the center, where a familiar figure sits, head buried in his hands. Three paths running from the podium to three different spots near the edges of the room - not corners; circles don't have corners - where three doors leading seemingly nowhere stand with no regard for their complete lack of structural support.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where you are, does it? You only have to decide where to start.

Comments

[peccatore]

They speak in unison:

"Oh, you poor young man..."
"Oh, you noble young man..."
"Are you hoping to save us?"

[too_cleverfox]

Not saving, just trying to figure out what's going on.

[peccatore]

"Go on, then."
"We will be watching."

They do not appear to be giving Nikolai an option.

[too_cleverfox]

Take care now. Thank you for the light.

[He starts heading to town, keeping a healthy distance from the trudging Marco(?)]

[peccatore]

The streets are mercifully empty, save for Nikolai and the undead he's pursuing. The latter appears to know exactly where he's going, turning corners and climbing steps with ease.

... Though he seems distracted on occasion, too. The night sky above seems impossibly bright; he finds himself staring at it, after a pulsing, throbbing sound that he catches near a window makes him stop.

But he continues, all the way to a house near a small, tilled field.

[too_cleverfox]

[you know, Nikolai is considering what information he knows of Marco. And the thing is, he didn't ask too many questions about when he was turned.

So he just continues to follow for now.]

[peccatore]

A pertinent observation!

The monster stops at the front door; hesitates; knocks lightly, as though afraid to break something. It's opened by...

Well, it's a man shaped very much like the Father. He seems more real, too, more three-dimensional, more present. His features are clearer. He has Marco's nose.

"Marco! Goodness gracious, where were you?" He throws his arms around Marco, who doesn't embrace him back so much as he collapses into his arms. "Your poor mother was worried sick. Come in, let her see you."

[too_cleverfox]

[well this is a touching moment, but... Nikolai keeps enough distance so he's not spotted but will approach closer if Marco walks inside.]

[peccatore]

Marco does walk inside. Shambles inside. There is the sound of a beating heart, two beating hearts, growing louder and louder.

[too_cleverfox]

[oh he's got a bad feeling about this]

[peccatore]

The feeling proves correct. No matter whether Nikolai follows or not, he can hear screams that are quickly muffled.

[too_cleverfox]

[welp, guess we all know where the guilt started.

He stays back, waiting to see if Marco will run out of the cabin.]

[peccatore]

He doesn't; certainly not right away. As the screams and cries fade, for minutes that stretch on and on, there is only the sound of a ravenous beast sating itself.

And when that fades, there is a great wail.

[too_cleverfox]

[yeaaaah.

He very carefully approaches the cabin, trying very hard to conceal himself]

[peccatore]

Fresh bloodstains adorn Marco's clothes now. He's on his knees, crying, sobbing, drawing in breath even as he finds he doesn't need it - somehow, it only makes him breathe harder. He mutters apologies over the mangled corpses of his family - to them, to God, to Mary, to a local saint.

The Parents, those figures that seem to resemble their real counterparts in little more than vague contours, are right behind Nikolai.

"Do you see?"
"Do you see what he is?"

[too_cleverfox]

A tortured soul whose hunger hurt the very ones he loves.

[peccatore]

"Oh, our poor son..."
"Our damned son..."

... Their surroundings are startling to blur. There are more memories to be seen.

"When was the last time he had an excuse?"

[too_cleverfox]

Good question.

Why does your son choose to live?

[peccatore]

"Because he's a coward."
"Because he is selfish."
"Because he has grown to enjoy stealing life."

It's getting harder and harder to tell which Parent is speaking, but does it matter?

[too_cleverfox]

[it really doesn't]

I'm sorry you had to go through that, and your own son, after all. Did you know vampires existed?

[peccatore]

That... seems to snap them out of their script, if only for a moment.

"There were stories... of people growing sick and dying," the Mother says.
"Entire families, sometimes," the Father adds.

[too_cleverfox]

Missing bodies? We're any of those close with your son?

[peccatore]

"Bless him... He wants to help."
"Such a noble young man...!"

...

It seems that's all they have to say in response to that question.

[too_cleverfox]

Just trying to understand.

Is this the first time he turned?

[peccatore]

"Yes, of course."
"Of course it is. This is the day our son died."