Hallows: Black Death

System of A Down- Spiders Dante Blackstone:  I was twenty-nine when I first held my B.B. in my arms. Belladonna Proserpina Blackstone was born with death knocking at her door and the only thing standing between the two, was me. She was so small, so pure, and beautiful. Her soft yellow eyes bore into mine as I fell in love for the third time in my life. It first happened when I first met Ashley, again when Delilah was born, and now with this little creature in my arms.  It's different this time. I've given everything to Ashley and Delilah, well, I thought I had but never like this. If I don't do something about this, I'd have to suffer the loss. A loss I'm in no way prepared for. Not my B.B. I've wanted her from the moment Ashley told me she was pregnant. I named her then and there. She laughed and asked, what if it's a boy? No, I couldn't even fathom the idea of a boy because I knew. This would be my B.B. My legacy. I'd do anything to make sure she lived.  Our story wouldn't end on the note that it almost did when David tried to take them from me. I can't even process what happened. How we ended up where we are now. It all happened so fast. Even as I hold her, I can't believe the way she was brought into the world. That she could have died because of a mistake I made. Looking at her now. I don't know how to feel. Relieved. Guilty.  "Dad?" I look up at her. "What just happened?" she asked looking down at the bandage on her arm. "What was that?"  "The mark of Anarchy," I hold my hand up to show her and the two boys I really really want to f*****g end. Little motherfuckers. "It's what I'm going to use to take the toad and Tobias back with me,"  "Okay," she sits down next to me.  Her eyes are looking at me like she doesn't believe I'm really here. I smile at her and tuck a stray long hair in her bangs back. The sadness in her eyes is tearing me apart. I didn't mean for her life to end up like this. I just needed her to be with me for the small amount of time that I bargained for. My sweet angel never disappoints. She's unpredictable and wild. Like her mother.  "Are you okay?" I ask her when she pulls away.  She nods. A lie of course. I can't remember the last time she was okay. That's never going to be the word for her anymore. Perhaps, she'll be better but never okay. It's this curse. Our family. None of us have been okay since Tobias found that stone maybe even longer before that. None of us will ever be. Not even in death.  "Can normal people see you?" she asks.  "No, just other supernaturals," I answer her question.  It's been a long time since the Hallows of Hellbourne have been gathered like this. Not even Delilah could bring them together this way. Yet, B.B. has them here at her beck and call. The way they're all looking at me, they're ready to jump to her aid if I try anything. She isn't even aware of the effect she has on them. How much power she holds over all of them.  "What now?" she asks. The others all turn their attention to me.  "You need some rest," I say getting up. She looks up at me. Even through her glasses, I can see the dark circles around her eyes.  "We'll go home," the two girls agree without hesitation. Good instincts, girls. The panther and the bat both walk into the room and agree to take them home. Her little boyfriends aren't going anywhere and for that I'm glad. I need to speak to the Devil give him a piece of mind since Delilah is nowhere to be found. Not here on earth and not in hell. B.B. decides to walk her friends out. Lucien and Carson don't move a muscle. They don't even address me. When she returns her eyes land on the boys and then come over to me. The stressed look on her face tells me all I need to know. She wants to talk to me but something is happening with them as well. They're fighting. They hurt her. "Master Dante, would you like help with the archives downstairs?" James asks, probably reading her expression.  "Sure. B.B.?" her eyes move away from mine. "You have nothing to be ashamed of,"  "I'm not ashamed of anything. I just don't want you to hurt them," she sneers. "I know you. You're not looking at them because you're scared. You're going to try and upset them because of what they did. It's none of your buisness. If you lay a single finger on them I'll send you back to hell, mission accomplished or not, daddy,"  "I-" I spared a glance their way. The blond one can't meet my gaze and the one with black hair is looking at me like he wishes I'd f*****g hit him so he can hit me back. This kid is something else. Definitely Kelly's son. Both of them are all grown up now. Gone are the kids that used to follow Delilah around."I wouldn't dream of it,"  "Pft," she scoffs at me and I laugh. "That's like saying I don't want to kill them when they do something stupid. Don't patronize me, dad. It's one of my biggest pet peeves,"  The attitude, the sass, where the hell did my little baby go? When did she become the spitting image of her mother? This little girl was worth all the lives I sacrificed to make sure she lived. All of them in exchange for one. Chance did say that the most valuable souls seek death. They crave death. They become death and I see it. f**k, Ashley. I see it in her eyes. The deep longing for the abyss we all dive into. It's calling to her and she's answering.  "I promise, not a single hair on their heads," I smile. Her eyes are red but not because she's been smoking, no. She's been crying for days now. Mourning the soul resting inside of her being. We have to talk about what she did. She changes her mind and decides to dismiss them.  "Can I have a moment with my dad?" she asks them.  They both stiffen. Their eyes dart to me with a scowl. I can see it in their eyes. It's not love these boys feel. Not yet. It's Obsession. I know that look all too well. The only one that never looked at me like this was the mother of my daughters and my daughters themselves. They're completely obsessed with my kid. I know the dangers. How many times did I have to pull Ash out of the grasp of sick twisted women who wanted more of me? Too many to count. Too many to not be embarrassed. At their age, I was too far gone to even think about taking a step back. I had just put the pedal to the floor and I had no idea what the brakes were for. The two of us make our way up to her room. She ignores their glares. I have a feeling it happens more than it doesn't. I can't help but find it hilarious. As kids, B.B. would do just about anything to get their attention. Now, she probably has to make up an excuse to get away from them. Especially, the crow. B.B.'s room is always nice and clean. The walls are a nice, chalky, matte black. The furniture is old painted a soft blush pink. The black bed in the center of the room is hanging from the ceiling with thick iron chains decorated with pink rose vines and lillies. The striped black and white bedspread has little floral designs like the rest of her room. It's a cute black and pink cottage theme with a carving of dark academia. "Why did you keep these?" I asked stopping in front of the black drum set. It was mine once upon a time. So was the collection of electric guitars on the rack next to the fireplace. "I know they hurt you,"  "They're mine," she sighs dropping onto the vanity bench.  Ever since she was a little girl, she's been obsessed with that vanity. She likes to sit in front of it to brush her hair, do her homework, and play video games on the T.V. behind the mirror. She added a P.C. setup, white on white next to it and it's the only change she's made since she was eight. That and her toys. The dollhouses and RC cars have been replaced by shoes and books. Lots and lots of books. The posters of cartoons are long gone replaced by emo bands and feminist ethereal art. I think some of these paintings are authentic. She's not patient enough to sit and paint one. She'd rather tell whoever did what they did wrong when choosing the colors they did. "What do you want to talk about?"  "I just want to ask you one thing," she turns around to face me. She offers me to take a seat. I pulled the white gaming chair out and sit down. This is actually comfortable. A little over the top but we wouldn't be talking about B.B. if it weren't. "You want to know why I did it?" I ask.  "I know why you did it," she whispers and it catches me by surprise.  It shouldn't. Since she was a little girl, B.B. always knew how I'd react before I did. She'd take a step back when she knew I was about to lose my s**t. She'd walk away before we even argued. If there ever was someone who knew me and understood me, it's this little girl right here. She never looked at me like I was everything to her. She watched to learn to mimic and perfect. The love of my life is as broken as I am. Unfortunately. It's the reaper in us. The brand of savagery that lingers in the deepest parts of our souls is brought out to push us to do the unthinkable. It gives us a profound understanding of the lesser things around us. It presents us with a different set of rules. Rules that go against everything that once made us human. If we had ever been human anyway. If my father would have killed himself the way hers did, I'd want to know why and I'd never understand it because I wouldn't think to do something like that to my own children. Yet, she's sitting there as if she understands more than I do. "Then what?" I ask. Her expression is stoic and difficult for me to read. It's always been that way with B.B. She gives nothing away unless she wants you to have it and right now, she wants something from me.  "I want to know why you killed all those people," she sighs and turns back to her vanity. She reaches for a little white box and turns back to show me what's inside. "This is called Dante's Journey," she says holding up a black blunt. "I had it developed a while ago. It's-" she pauses tossing the box back and reaching into her pocket to produce my old electric lighter. I stole it from from her favorite emo idols. One of the greatest crows to exist. I'll tell her it belongs to her lifelong childhood crush before I go. "It's strong as s**t. I've only tried it once. The night I helped Delilah bury her first body,"  "What happened?"  I get up to take it from her. I'm flattered. Really, I am. She laughs when I snag the lighter out of her perfectly manicured hand. Her fingers look like designer demon claws. Pink with little bits of jewelry and gems. She's always wanted to look her best, this one. Doesn't ask for much but when she does, it has a big ass price tag on it.  "It was like the house was alive. It scared the f**k out of us. We ended up curled in the bathtub for four hours. We just sat there quietly," she smiles sadly as if remembering hurts. "It was insane but then it was peaceful and I knew Jeremy had gotten it right,"  I put the end to my lips and spark it up. I inhaled feeling the burning sensation flood into my lungs. f**k, I've missed this. The smoke goes straight to my head. The longer I hold it in, the higher I get off this one hit. I release it feeling a wave of pleasure flood through my body.  "Jesus," I sigh loving the effect. She laughs taking it from me.  "Right," she nods. The smell is sweet but also dark. It tastes a lot like black licorice.  "I don't know if I should tell you," I admit.  I never wanted her to know but she's asking and by the look in her eyes, I know she's ready. She takes a long drag like she's been smoking for years. It should alarm me. It should bother me but I know all too well what happens when I don't slow down enough to have a minute to myself. Does she feel that way? Is my blood in her veins nothing more than a f*****g infection, a taint on her pure soul? Or is she something else entirely? I'm not exactly sure what it is we created here, Ashley. "Tell me anyway," she lets out a puff of smoke.  "You were born a pre-me," I answer.  `She looks up at me like she can't believe the words that just slip from my lips. No one would. She's tall, thick, and the perfect predator. Even as a little girl she was smaller than the other kids. Not anymore. He stayed true to his word. B.B. is growing into the person she's always meant to be. Healthy, ambicious, loving, and worthy of those who worship at her feet. "No, I wasn't. My birth certificate-"  "Is forged, B.B. You weren't born in February. You're older. You were born in October. You were born on my birthday," I sit down next to her pulling her to my side. Yeah, she was born on the night David was meant to kill me. The night he almost killed Ashley. "February was the day you were officially released from the hospital,"  I can feel her power brush up against my own. The reaper is weeks old but it's dominant and she gives in the same way I did. She has no intention of ever fighting it. It's all just there waiting to be challenged. Stubborn and headstrong without holding anything back. It's difficult to not be proud. To be afraid.  "You killed all those people to-"  "Save you," I confirm. I place my hand on her head and take the blunt out of her hand. She's not wrong. This s**t is strong as hell. My eyes are twitching. I'm on a f*****g cloud.  "Was it worth it?" she whispers after a while. I put the blunt out in the little glass ashtray on her desk and kneel down in front of her. I take her face in both my hands and smile. Did she really just ask me that? Was it worth it? What kind of question is that? "Yeah," I nod. "I would have f*****g killed a lot more to save you, B.B. I will continue to be a plague on this world so as long as you live the life you are owed," I wipe away the tears from her face and hold my smile. I've never been able to stand seeing her cry. Not that she did it a lot. Not even as an infant or when Delilah tried to push her around. If anything she made Del cry. "I will never let death take you away from me unless you want to go, Pinky. Here, Heaven, Hell. I will burn them all down for you, baby. You're the only thing that matters. No more crying," I stand up kissing the top of her head. "We have a little time together and I want to know everything about you. Even the creepy science s**t you're into. Yeah?"  She looks up at me with a little wicked smirk on her lips. She looks just like my wife at this age. How is she so big already? So ready for life? The sadness is momentarily gone and replaced by relief, I think. It's like she's looking at me with new eyes or some s**t. It could be the weed but I feel it. The eagerness in her soul is crying out. It was all worth it and if she turns out to be just as crazy as her father, I still wouldn't regret it. Let her burn the f*****g world down. It was always meant for the two of them to take it. "Okay, daddy," she takes my hand in hers before deciding that it isn't enough. She wraps her arms around me. "Just-" she giggled mischievously. "Don't get mad okay?"