by RWK Clark
The Gilliams could see how terribly their queen was fretting. Yes, she was in a bind, that was for sure. Patrick and Rose were both acutely aware of the strange attitudes and behaviors Lucien demonstrated, but they weren’t sure if it was all due to the darkness inside him or bad parenting on his mother’s part. Patrick knew one thing for sure: if the Master had been here the boy would have had the guidance he needed. Oh, well, it was a moot point now.
Rose patted Rasia’s hand comfortingly. “It will be alright, Rasia. It is just his nature. As you have said, Lucien is the first of his kind.”
“Yes,” Patrick agreed. “The important thing for you to do is to continue to mother and nurture him. It is your responsibility, and we believe the Powers want it this way.”
Rasia remained silent, turning her destiny over in her mind. The ‘Powers’, Patrick had said. They knew the Powers that were really in charge. She was helpless, and she truly had no hope. The boy and his raising were her destiny.
∞
Once she was alone in her room at home Rasia had time to relax. She had to do something to teach Lucien personal order; it was essential to an extent, as the leader of the Family. How would he ever properly lead the people of his father without any kind of wisdom or self-control? She knew he could not. Such behavior would only result in death and chaos, and she feared, with great trepidation, that her son would always be just out of her reach.
Once she had sent Lucien to bed she changed into comfortable powder blue plaid pajamas; Rasia felt cold tonight, and was anxious to slip beneath the covers of her bed and soak up the warmth that the darkness provided her with. She brushed her hair out and then did just that.
As she lay on her pillow she thought of her child, the boy of destiny who had completely taken over her life. She wanted to cry, but no tears would come. It then occurred to her that she could not remember the last time she cried; had she ever cried at all?
She let a long sigh escape her lips. “Oh, Cyril. If only you knew how terribly I miss you and need you now. If only you were aware of the remorse I feel for your death!”
She cried until her eyes became sore and heavy, but sleep did not come easily to Rasia, and when she did finally fall to slumber she tossed and turned, tormented by evil dreams and monstrous visions which she could not recall upon waking. She knew now what the deep loneliness Cyril had described felt like, and this empty yearning, this incredible loneliness, was it.
Rasia woke off and on throughout the night, her personal stress robbing her of sleep. Her eyes, swollen from her tears, throbbed with heat, and each time she woke she found it harder and harder to return to her rest. She knew, with certainty, that this was all her life held for her now: emptiness, loneliness, confusion, and despair.
Oh, how she deserved it!
Chapter 7
Rasia had called a meeting the night after Isabella’s own birthday dinner. The meeting included Mother, himself, and Mr. and Mrs. Gilliam.
Mother had initiated the meeting in their own family room. A cunning wench was she, Lucien thought.
“Lucien, have a seat,” she began. “Are you thirsty, son? Do you need to use the bathroom?”
Lucien had glared at her. What the heck was going on?
Mother stopped toying with him then; she recognized the impatient, angry look on his face. He was not stupid, and there was no reason to play games with him. Her eyes caught fire, and she raised her voice, hardening it with authoritative tones. “Lucien, you killed Desirae the night before last,” Rasia began.
Lucien glanced at the Gilliams and then looked back at his mother. “Yes, and?” He knew there was no reason to deny it; the three ‘grown-ups’ knew who he was, and they knew what he was.
“Very well,” she said. “Beginning tonight, upon the very conclusion of this meeting, you will be escorted and guarded by a pair of male nurses at all times. These nurses have the authority to tranquilize you as needed, and they will be prepared to do so at all times.
“It is time you come to terms with your destiny,” his mother continued her tirade harshly. “This is not what I would have liked to have either, Lucien, but it is what it is. You will come to learn order and delegation of authority, which includes self-control wisdom, and you will learn these things so you are able to properly lead the Family that your father has established. Do you understand what I am saying?”
The color had drained from his face. “I sincerely hope you’re kidding.”
“It is already done,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice steady. She was afraid of how Lucien was going to react to the revelation she had just given him, but she was even more frightened by what he could become if the upper hand were not taken.
As soon as she said those words the doors of the family room had opened and two of the biggest guys he had ever seen had entered and took him by his seven-year old arms. He gave it all he had, kicking and screaming and squirming, but it had been useless. He felt a sharp sting in his upper arm and that was the last thing he remembered.
When he had woken he tried to go out into the hall once his head had cleared. The shot the men had given him had given him a headache, and his thoughts were also a bit clouded because of it, but he had a bone to pick with Mother. He sat on the edge of his bed for a short while, just until he began to feel a bit clearer, then he rose and walked to the door of his room to confront that witch who gave him birth.
But as soon as he had opened the door the two guys were on him. He was too drained to fight or struggle much this time, and they weren’t as rough with him as before. The light to his room came on with a flash, and he squinted in pain from the shock to his eyes.
The nurses put him on his bed and then stood back and watched him. They wanted to see how he would respond to them. He didn’t have the energy to do anything other than ask them through clenched teeth, “Can I talk to my mother?”
The man closest to the door nodded. “I’ll tell her you’re awake.” Then he was gone.
The second man took a syringe out of his breast pocket and removed the cap. He stood, ready and waiting, for Lucien to try anything.
“Ah, you’re awake,” his mother’s voice broke through his steadily clearing haze. “Well, you have now properly met Roger and Carl, two of six nurses who will take shifts with you. Here are your choices, Lucien:
You can continue to behave in such an erratic and irresponsible manner that everyone fears for their lives constantly, in which case I will personally take extreme measures, to my very own peril with the Powers, or you can spend the next three years with these men, constantly.” Rasia paused to let her words sink in.
After a moment of silence she continued. “If you have demonstrated a desire to learn and gain a bit of much needed discipline, you may be free of the burden on your tenth birthday. But until then, you are under their constant watch, and they are permitted to take matters into their own hands.”
Lucien had turned all of this over in his head. He was seeing red; how he wanted this monstrosity of a witch to be dead. He felt frustrated and furious, but he did not show his fury.
“You are a very intelligent boy, beyond your years,” she said. “Figure it out.” With that Rasia turned sharply and left his room, slamming the door behind her.
The guard who had fetched his mother told him, “It’s very late, you may as well use the bathroom and try to get some real sleep.”
In a small show of defiance Lucien met the nurse’s gaze and slid back on his bed, supporting himself against the wall. He crossed his arms over his seven-year old chest and looked away.
He had too many things to think about; he didn’t have time to deal with them now.
∞
Lucien’s tenth birthday would be a milestone for the boy, and he was excited. For the last three years that witch of a mother of his had made him endure the company of two hulking male nurses. Ugh! Sure, he had managed to get his kicks in one way or another, but those two horse’s asses had proven themselves to be a hindering
annoyance.
∞
Now it was the morning of his tenth birthday, and as he lay in bed allowing his head to clear, his excitement grew. He had done it. He had made it an entire three years without killing all six of those bastards and his mother too.
His tenth birthday meant that his days with them were over.
He sat up quickly and jumped to the floor. He put on his robe and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Not only was he free, but birthdays usually always proved to be fun. He would get to eat as much as he wanted, and he got to spend the whole day with Isabella as well. Of all the people in his ‘Family’, as Mother called it, Isabella was by far his favorite.
When he was finished in the bathroom he ran downstairs and started looking for his mother. She was usually at the breakfast table in the nook off the dining room, but this morning the room was empty. Lucien wandered around their common living area, to no avail. When he entered the family room he found Martin Lamb.
“Ah, good morning, Lucien, and happy birthday! Free of your annoying friends, I see,” Martin said.
He didn’t like Martin, but he was in too good a mood to let the man’s unexpected presence ruin his day. “Yes. It’s a relief. Where is my mother?”
“She had some things to pick up to prepare for the day,” the man replied. “The Gilliams will be over to participate in the festivities with you both, as I am sure you are aware.”
Lucien simply nodded in response and turned away, heading for the nook. He would eat alone, just as he had been doing for most of the last three years, if he didn’t count those smelly apes who had been his ‘babysitters’. Mother had pretty much put a strong wedge between them both when it came to their personal relationship, but there was no love lost there for Lucien. He could care less, as long as the witch met his needs.
He took his regular seat at the table and rang the bell for breakfast to be brought to him. While he waited he thought about the fact that he was sitting all alone in the house; it was almost overwhelming to him. In the beginning of his ‘sentence’ he had daydreamed about ripping all of those musclemen apart with his bare hands and letting their blood drip through his fingers, but he knew that with two of them with him at a time, and both of them armed with drug-filled syringes, he didn’t stand a chance. Even if he were successful in ridding himself of one of them, the other would get to him before he knew what was happening. The consequences would have been terrible for him.
So he had patiently bided his time without putting up even the slightest fight. After only eight months of good behavior Mother had been impressed, but not enough to change the time frame in his favor. She didn’t budge as far as his ‘sentence’ went.
The door to the kitchen opened and one of the servants brought him his breakfast of French toast and scrambled eggs, his favorite. Her hand trembled in fear as she set the plate down in front of him, and he took note of this with great amusement. But rather than allow her fear to whet his appetite, Lucien simply looked at the woman and smiled. “Thank you,” he said sweetly to her.
She nodded in response, bowing slightly, and backed away toward the kitchen. He hadn’t considered that the entire house would be filled with fear! This was going to be more fun than opening all the wrapped gifts in the world!
He wolfed his food down and was just drinking the last of his glass of milk when Mother entered the room. “Good morning, Lucien,” she said cheerfully. “Eating alone, I see. How does it feel?”
Lucien immediately felt the hate building up in his stomach, working its way toward his throat. Oh, murdering this wench would be like having dessert, but he knew he needed to bide his time; he would get the job done someday, of that he was determined. He simply responded. “Awesome, Mother, thank you.”
“Well, you will be free to do as you wish today, within reason, of course,” Rasia began. “Isabella and her parents will be here around noon, and they will spend the remainder of the day here with us to help us celebrate. This is more than your tenth birthday to me, you know. You have shown great progress, Lucien.”
He looked at her. Her eyes were filled with pride. It would take even more time than he thought to cut loose a bit, and he would have to be very careful and sneaky when indulging his own whims. Not to worry, Lucien, he told himself. Soon…
She turned away and left the room, and as soon as she was gone he took the last bite of French toast, which sat on his plate, and wrapped it in his cloth napkin and placed it in the pocket of his robe. He smiled to himself with satisfaction. Then he began to consider his day.
He turned his mind to Isabella, his best good friend. He considered her his girlfriend in his mind, and even at his young age he was sure they would be married someday. As a matter of fact he was willing to bet that was the plan of their parents all along. He was okay with that; he could tell her anything, and she did not judge him or act like he was weird. He shared with her all of his temptations and desires, and she embraced them as a part of him.
He knew how Isabella felt about him, and while he had a certain affection for her he wouldn’t call it ‘love’. She was a presence in his life that he knew was supposed to be there, and he honestly didn’t know what he would do without her friendship. She was, after all, his best and only friend.
Lucien knew there was more to him than he understood. He also knew this about Isabella for that matter. They had talked about this amongst themselves in an effort to figure it all out. He believed it had something to do with the noises that came from his mother’s room late at night on such a frequent basis. Sometimes the noises she made in there sounded more like she was an animal than a person. He just couldn’t figure it out.
For the last three years, during his ‘sentence’, he and Isabella had become closer than ever. Why, just about a year ago she had let him kiss her for the very first time! He hadn’t wanted to because of ‘love’, he just wanted to know what it felt like, but after that kiss Isabella changed toward him. She seemed to be a little more attached to him than before. He didn’t mind. He considered her to be his and his alone.
Lucien made his way back up to his room, where he dressed in blue jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes. He took the wadded napkin from his robe pocket and stuffed it down the front of his jeans, then made sure his t-shirt covered it completely, showing no bulge. He ran a comb quickly through his hair and then headed back downstairs. He took note of the time on the grandfather clock at the top of the staircase. Ten-thirty. The Gilliams would be here at noon, and he was very excited. How to pass the time until their arrival?
With that thought he returned to his room and put a plaid flannel shirt over his t-shirt. He buttoned it from the neck down, then he knelt next to his bed and fished around beneath it, finally pulling a shoebox out. Lucien opened the box and shuffled through the contents, and when he found what he was looking for his face lit up with delight. He put the item in the right hip pocket of his jeans and replaced the box, then he ran downstairs.
Mother was in the family room listening to music and flipping through a magazine that was likely older than he. “Mama, I am going outside to the courtyard to play. I just wanted you to know where I was,” he told Rasia.
She looked up from her reading and smiled. “Okay,” she began, a bit of trepidation in her voice. “Be good, Lucien, okay? I wouldn’t want to have things end for you before they even begin.”
“Yes, Mother, of course.” He turned and walked through the foyer and out the front door of the house.
At the far end of the courtyard there was a grouping of trees. Before Lucien had come under the control and watchful eyes of his ‘nurses’ he had gone there alone to play quite often. It was his refuge and sanctuary. It was where he could be himself completely and do the things he wanted without observation.
When he arrived there he looked around in surprise. The area he played in most often had grown over quite a bit, and he immediately began to clear sticks and leaves off of the area. Once it was clear his eyes roamed over
the ground anxiously until he saw what he was looking for, buried almost entirely under some leaves right at the edge of his area.
He cleared the leaves and knelt down. Before him on the ground was a metal box trap. He had gotten it years ago from the gardener’s shed. The man had told him it was for catching critters that ate the vegetation on the property, but they didn’t use it anymore, so Lucien had taken it for himself. Now he brushed the inside of the trap out with his hand and set it up. It was a bit of a struggle, as it had gained a bit of rust, but he got the job done.
Next he took the napkin from down his pants and took out the chunk of now cold French toast, which he placed inside the trap. He then covered the top and sides of the contraption with leaves and sticks, then stood to observe his work. Perfect.
He wandered out of the wooded area and started to walk around the courtyard. While not much had changed out here everything still seemed different, smaller almost. He knew this was because he was bigger; he had grown. He found a stick long enough to act as a walking stick, and as he strolled he pushed around leaves and flowers or whatever else caught his attention. When he got to his old playset he looked at it with disgust. What a baby he had been.
When Lucien had made a full circle around the courtyard and was satisfied that he had seen enough he made his way back to the wooded area. While he didn’t expect to have captured anything, he would check anyway, just in case. He was still about ten feet from the pile of leaves which hid the trap when he heard it. An animal had indeed been captured, and it was struggling a bit in the metal box, trying to find a way out.
Lucien moved the leaves off the top of the box and picked it up by the thin handle on top. He looked through the caged door to see a brownish-gray colored rabbit inside. It was still a baby, he thought. Probably less than a year old. He sat on the ground and carefully opened the door, putting his hand inside at the same time. He grabbed the bunny by the scruff of its neck firmly and pulled it out of the box, allowing the box to fall to the ground.