The Wildcard
Nathanial Orchem stood looking at the house in front of him, contemplating. He’d been watching this house for some time now and the happenings. His sons were growing stronger by the day, teaching themselves the things that the others could do. Doing things that seemed impossible, yet they were managing the impossible.
Sure they had limits and only certain ones could do certain things, still he was trying to decide his best move. So long ago he’d really thought that his eight sons would have been killed if they hadn‘t preformed at their best. So Nathanial had helped train them, he’d made sure they weren’t weak, and instead Abaddon had kept them alive and Nathanial had realized what he’d planned to do with them. Truly do with them, something he’d not known back then.
“Nathanial.” Came a woman’s voice next to him, he didn’t look at her. Maggie Fletcher, the woman who’d helped him coordinate all of this. Now they were both in a race against time. They didn’t have rules to follow like his sons, but they were still bound.
Nathanial was missing a piece of himself since before he could remember and it wasn’t ever going to be given back. The stains in him were so dark, he didn’t know if he should even get it back. At least he had an excuse, unlike Maggie for why he did it, though pathetic it was now sounding to his own ears.
“What?” Nathanial asked his dark eyes finally looking at her. They were dark as coal, just like his hair, but his skin was far lighter than normal at the moment. Like he hadn’t seen the sun in years.
“If we stay much longer they will sense us,” she said touching his arm. He didn’t want her to touch him, want her to pretend like she cared. The woman was a bitch, plain and simple, but then birds of a feather he guessed.
“They’ll sense you.” Nathaniel corrected. He’d only been spotted once, but managed a quick escape from them. “The final pieces are falling into place. I need to be sure that they are all heading in the right direction,” he said.
“It’s been several months now, who’s to say it won’t be a few years before others come that are the compliment of the boys?” Maggie looked at Nathanial, as cold as ever, he rarely showed any emotion and the emotion he did normally show was annoyance.
Still she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, deadly yet desirable, and he was drawn to her, well she hoped he was. The only reason she was glad she wasn’t the mother of those eight was the fact that the mother had to die. Otherwise the fact that Nathanial had lain with that whore angered her greatly. Maggie was happy that the woman was dead, but Nathanial was being very difficult. She wanted him for herself, but he didn’t seem to care about anything. Especially her as of late.
“The others will come, I’ll make sure of it. They are all alive,” he said. He’d waited nearly two hundred years for this, and what he wanted now was different from the beginning. Maggie wasn’t really hearing what he was saying as normal, just lost in her own selfish thoughts. Right here and now he had a chance to make a choice, and in the end he knew he’d still end up burning in the flames of hell. It was just how fast he got there Nathanial guessed.
There was movement up near the house and Nathanial instantly recognized Orin, the sun had set not long ago and the shadows were deep now. The summer was almost in full swing and where they stood it was nearly impossible to see, yet Orin looked right at where they stood. As if he could sense them, even if that wasn’t his main talent.
“It is time to go,” Nathanial said sharply and turned to leave with Maggie in tow.
