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

[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."

[too_cleverfox]

What happens after all this?

[peccatore]

"You want to see more?"
"There is so much more. Look, look, we can show you...!"

Their surroundings are starting to blur, as is Marco. This memory is coming to an end, apparently.

[too_cleverfox]

Isn't that the point of this whole mess?

[He closes his eyes for a moment so he doesn't get too disoriented]

[peccatore]

It looks like the scene is going to settle on a cobblestone street under a cloudy night, with a familiar blond man following a captivating scent, but Nikolai might not even have the time to open his eyes before the Father interrupts -

"No, not this one. Further ahead."

- And everything zooms, indeed, further ahead, until the world settles into place again for real.

Now they're in a back alley, where men in striped suits and hats are locked in a gunfight. It is, once again, night time.

[too_cleverfox]

... Well, I sure definitely traveled forward in time.

[peccatore]

"When is this? Where was this?"
"Two hundred years later? Maybe less?"
"So much time."
"So much sin. He only remembers some of it."

The gunfight isn't terribly important. It's only when it dies down, two or three men left on the ground bleeding to their deaths, that Marco walks in.

He's looking a lot more put together these days. Dressed formally, in a style that marks him as a respectable member of society rather than a criminal like the other men here; hair combed neatly, with small sideburns. He wears glasses now.

[too_cleverfox]

[huh. Again, he has an idea of what will happen next, but he'll wait and watch]

[peccatore]

It is, in fact, simple to put two and two together. This is Marco's dinner.

The affair is much more deliberate and controlled than what happened with his parents (or what it sounded like, at any rate). One by one, Marco kneels at each criminal's side, bites down, and simply drinks until there's no more left to drink. Neat, silent and methodical.

He looks torn about it when he's done, all the same.

"Look at him. Scavenging like a vulture."

[too_cleverfox]

Better than murder.

[He clears his throat to see if he can get this Marco's attention]