innards

There had been a hole that seemed to have made itself a home within his chest. It felt like he deserved it, like it was supposed to be there. Remus had been good once. He'd went against his uncle. He'd fought at his brother's side. Then he had gotten greedy. Never had he thought he would die from it, but everything that led up to it felt like it brought him to that moment just before he had been pushed into the Void. He couldn't remember any of it, but it had been quiet. Nothing but silence. Time had felt insignificant because it just was. But it had felt like he deserved it. He had deserved what had become of Renfield. He had deserved seeing Marius die. He had deserved every bit of it and yet he still wouldn't have changed anything he'd done. The only thing he'd probably change is making sure those he cared about survived. And there were only three of them so that surely couldn't be that difficult. After all, Lilith was very much standing at the head of the table right now. Now, she was definitely deserving of that.

He'd seen this before, this chasmic black hole in Remus' chest threatening to swallow everything whole; this destructive ability of the terror when he suddenly became too hard upon himself. Tempted beyond any dreams of destructive avarice, Remus was the scorned brother, the ill-fated child when presented with what life offered of them; one had to die and Remus suffered for it. Again, and again, and again until something shifted; indelible to any others but precisely identifiable for the abomination that had tethered themself to the terror. The blind leading the blind, wrath and violence was what comforted and nurtured them both, something weaned upon such destruction, considered it a wondrous comfort and though Remus was twisted into a monster so far separated from the vampire magistrate he once was regaled to be; he was Marius' long kept dream. Each sanguinary piece of the terror, each seemingly grotesque apparition he could morph into was something that spoke to the depraved pieces of the demon. A horrific amalgamation of monsters cradled within the violent palms of an infernal creature; he loved him then, he loved him still.

"Are you sure about this?" It wasn't like Renfield didn't like dogs, he'd grown up with Remus and his hellhounds, but he'd never really thought about getting one of his own. They were supposed to be a good thing, give him a reason to leave the house and think about something other than work. Dogs just felt so... Mortal, human in a way. Still, there was something endearing about their little faces watching him and Remus as the father and son wandered down the aisles of unclaimed dogs. "How am I supposed to pick?"

Darkness, this suffocating cloud that spoke of something cursed had lingered over the entirety of their lives; even before the two had known each other it seemed they were fated to fall, if not to rise again. Two strangers propelled by wrath, clouded by war, only to meet at the apex of a battle and ripped apart just as swiftly. Remus had been fated to die, his death strewn across the stars and heartily promised; though the once Mars vampire tried to deny it, Remus was murdered atop that hill. It was through Marius' sacrifice, though at the time unwilling, that Remus had been brought back; but Marius would be forever altered as a result. Three thousand years and some change had passed since then but if it were necessary to make such sacrifice again, they'd do so without question; even if it was to note that there was no Inferno to turn back to, that they'd be gone in the ultimate way that a soul could be destroyed. For Remus, for the ferocity that was their love for one another, Marius had learned to sacrifice continuously for the other.

There had been a hole that seemed to have made itself a home within his chest. It felt like he deserved it, like it was supposed to be there. Remus had been good once. He'd went against his uncle. He'd fought at his brother's side. Then he had gotten greedy. Never had he thought he would die from it, but everything that led up to it felt like it brought him to that moment just before he had been pushed into the Void. He couldn't remember any of it, but it had been quiet. Nothing but silence. Time had felt insignificant because it just was. But it had felt like he deserved it. He had deserved what had become of Renfield. He had deserved seeing Marius die. He had deserved every bit of it and yet he still wouldn't have changed anything he'd done. The only thing he'd probably change is making sure those he cared about survived. And there were only three of them so that surely couldn't be that difficult. After all, Lilith was very much standing at the head of the table right now. Now, she was definitely deserving of that.

Remus had been at the fates of cruel Gods, those who paraded around as puppeteers who were destined to navigate the once vampire's life for him. The terror never much delved into the past, only the mere recollection how Marius was once at the mercy of being his thrall, that it had been such bond which wrought the beginnings of their relationship. Still, within all the torture that forged Marius within the Inferno, the Wrathful had learned to be inherently perceptive. Anyone insightful enough could glance upon Remus and see that he'd gone from being told what to do, demanded, ordered, and instructed, to feeling lost once the cards had been placed unto his own hands. Remus had fought against those that wished to control him, he'd conquered and vanquished them, but at what cost to his own navigation throughout life?

Marius smiled fondly as his arms wound tightly around their husband; in a twisted way, Remus' fated death, Marius' inevitable tether to his rebirth, had been everything that Marius could not be without now. A serpent eating it's own tail, one could not currently exist without the other, and throughout each hardship Remus' faced, the terror would have to remember that he'd not be without Marius so long as the abomination could walk alongside him in this mortal plane.

The Wrathful simmered quietly, they'd never been proficient in heartfelt matters, but when Remus spoke, when the terror tossed and turned each night, Marius shared his grief, his deep sated rage, and his love. Love was perhaps the greatest affliction to be burdened with, and as Renfield rotted upon their couch, practically catatonic, Marius could seethe and wince at the pain Remus was outwardly crippled by. Marius had been a son once, a child, but the abomination was left with no memories of what had once been, the tender and sacred bond of parent and child; the wretched fact that Remus would give his entire life if it meant the hollowborn would be okay. Marius did not understand it personally, but the abomination had come to slowly, begrudgingly, accept it.

Remus tried to diffuse something which bordered on sickeningly lachrymose, but Marius vied to understand the life Remus had lived in their absence. Marius had been so petulant, so absorbed, he'd missed a fleeting moment where Remus had been shackled by parental obligation, had made the ultimate sacrifice to raise another when the terror had been coined as nothing else but a monstrosity. Ren was certainly screwed in his own way, Marius wouldn't say that Remus had raised him perfectly; but the love pooled nauseatingly between father and son, it stacked up high in the apartment and was impossible to ignore.

Okay seemed like such a subjective word when it came to how someone felt. When Remus thought about the fact that he might not have been okay, there was always a part of him that thought that maybe that wouldn't be the case eventually. Then there was the much bigger part that believed that he was always meant to be suffering to an extent. Strong beyond belief was something he could call himself, but really he'd been suffering for a long time now. He couldn't even say that it had started before his death when it had started far before that. Far before Draste had found them along Tiber river. Far before Mars himself had sired them. He'd been young when he'd realized his life was not ever meant to be okay. That damn prophecy always reared its ugly head.

Perhaps not being okay worked for Remus though. It felt like it was supposed to given how everything seemed to be working against him no matter how he looked at it. He was meant to suffer which meant the people around him were meant to suffer. Romulus always had it better, didn't he? Remus was the dead brother. He was the one that lived in his own twin's shadow his entire life. Even now, he was sure people would look at him and think that he was nothing but an extension of Romulus. If the terror were to be lost, then there would be no fanfare. Nobody would notice but the people that really knew him. Nobody would care except for the people that love him. That seemed to be something he was more okay with than the concept of actually being okay.

One thing was for sure though. He didn't want Marius to not be okay. He didn't want his demon to suffer. They had gone through enough and Remus wanted to make sure that wouldn't be the case again. He wouldn't leave Marius and the abomination wouldn't leave him. Unfortunately for both of them, they loved each other. It was really a tragedy. When someone loved another as long as he had loved Marius, there was nothing that person would not do for the one they loved. Remus would break down this entire realm to make sure that Marius was merely content. And that was simply because a terror loved an abomination.

It was pretty funny when he thought about it. How two wretched creatures could love each other so. Perhaps it was that darkness that contributed to their willingness to kill for each other. Remus would claw Sathanas from the pits of the Inferno and make him into less of an archfiend than he was if he dared to take Marius from him again. Not that it had been the archfiend's fault in the first place that the demon had been taken from him, but he'd blame everyone but himself for why they had been apart for so long. It had been both of them though. Both of them that had been at fault for their separation. Remus for dying. Marius for...well, honestly the demon had just been petty and embracing their typical demeanor of being wrathful. What could the terror expect other than that?

"So, I'm going to go. The Otherworld's magic is how we were both reborn. It might have some answers as to why neither of us died when the magic that kept us alive wasn't there anymore." She shook her head. "I don't know... At the very least it'll give me some time to think about what happened." There was a lot unsaid in her words, such as the fact she wouldn't have left Remus alone with Ren in a million years if she thought he was still acting insane. The First Terror would never want to hurt the hollowborn he called a son, but it didn't mean that he couldn't. Still, Clara looked at Remus now and she knew the olive branch of trust was one she could extend now.

"Do whatever you want to do. Find answers in the Otherworld. I don't care. What I care about is Renfield. You and everyone else would do well to remember that. When it comes to my son, I will kill everyone who even remotely threatens his safety." He had once told Ren to turn whatever knife he had on himself towards him and he would make sure the hollowborn was still breathing at the end of the day. His life would mean nothing with Renfield. "Go find your answers. Whatever. He'll be here when you get back."