Masquerade {A Penderry's Bizzare Fanfic}《COMPLETED ✔️》

•Chapter Twenty-Five•

"Alright you son of a bitch, you've asked for this." Blaire held onto her side as she stood up, more than definitely angry. She didn't take to losing so easily, so she wasn't going to lose this time.

She was determined as she picked up her sword. Determined that she would have Lacrime begging on his knees for mercy, just like her father had done when she was thirteen. The thought of it pleased her, although it shouldn't have.

Damn, she really was one bad girl. As deadly as she was beautiful, people would say. Maybe Lacrime was right, after all, maybe she was a succubus. Using her beauty to her advantage was one of her ways to get the job done, though never would she give herself to strangers. There is no point in trying to obtain what you can't have, she would say to the men who tried to woo her with bouquets of flowers and other cliché items of love like chocolates (even though she loved sweet foods).

"Blaire!" Jim called to her, gaining her attention. He embraced her for a moment, pulling away to cup her cheeks. "Thank God you're safe! Where is Oliver?"

"Right here!" Oliver replied, giving a weak smile as he came over to Jim and his cousin with his rifle in hand. "Other than a few grazes, I think i'm alright. Where did Freddie go? And what about George?"

"George..." Jim remembered, his heart racing at the thought of Lacrime hurting him again. "We have to find him!"

Ollie and Blaire both gave a nod, they would have done the same if George were either one of their siblings.

***

Things between Westman and Lacrime were getting heated. Westman was throwing punches left, right and centre, hitting Lacrime's handsome face.

"You murdered my parents!" he screamed, fury lighting up his eyes. "My unborn sibling never got the chance to live! You killed them...no....you murdered her!"

Just like his mother had predicted all those years ago, Westman too believed that his parent's unborn child would have been a girl.

I'm sorry, Annabelle...i'm sorry, Annie. You would have been George's age now, had you have lived.

"Look on the brightside," Lacrime taunted, a dark smirk twisting on his lips. "At least she won't have you for an older brother. A sick and twisted vampire trying to hold onto whatever is left of his sanity. You'll end up in the loony asylum someday, Alfred, do not think your time won't come."

Westman put his hands around the evil man's throat, tightening his grip. "How many people have you hurt before me? How many lives have you destroyed other than that of your lover's?"

Lacrime tch'd, not answering. Westman was growing impatient, his vampiric dark form starting to take over.

"I said how many lives have you destroyed!?"

Westman loosened his hold, letting Lacrime talk.

"My older brother's." he began, this being a secret he had always kept to himself before now. "Before it was the three of us, there were four children all together. Tempus, who was Father Time, myself, the Boogeyman, Lucian, the Sandman and my sister, Brier, Mother Nature. Tempus was the spirit of time itself, he could tell what would happen and why it had to be a certain way."

I am still confused on the topic of the Weaver species. I might as well hear what he has to say, Westman thought.

"Being the eldest of our siblings, Tempus and I had many responsibilities." Lacrime continued, sounding like he regretted his choice. "This would often lead to arguments, though it was normal for us to fight. We were brothers after all, we would say our apologies afterwards. Though, one day I made a terrible mistake. I got so angry that I committed a crime amongst the Weaver community...Tempus' and Ricky's deaths have and always will be the only ones I regret."

"I don't believe you." Westman growled, putting his sword to Lacrime's throat. "You murdered your brother in cold blood, I can tell that much. You are a cruel man who takes pleasure from other's suffering. You threw Jim's father off a cliff, watched as Blaire was raped...you only care for yourself."

Lacrime laughed, getting the upper hand. Westman's sword went out of his reach, even as he tried to grab it.

"Nobody will come to save you, Freddie." he whispered chillingly into his ear. "You will die alone, and poor Blaire and Oliver will cease to exist. Oh, did you not know that? Without you, they have no room to exist. Think of yourself as their catalyst, and they are the reaction."

Westman's eyes widen at the thought. He thinks about it on repeat for what felt like minutes, but in fact only a mere second had gone by.

If I die...my descendants will cease to exist. The Westman bloodline will die, there will be no one to carry on this legacy- even if it is twisted. I cannot die. I have to fight. For Blaire and for Oliver, I have to fight. For Jim...for everyone.

"Mr Westman!" George hit Lacrime with his wyvern tail, sending him across the floor. Some of the spikes had pierced his skin, though he didn't appear to care.

"Are you all right?" the adolescent asked, helping Westman up. He got his sword and handed it to him. "You will be needing this."

"Yes." the young man nodded. "Thank you, George. I...I really thought I was going to die. Before this, I thought death would have been the greatest escape...though now I know killing myself will not achieve anything. It will only make those around me suffer."

Westman rolled up his sleeve, presenting to George the scars on his arm. "This. Never do this to yourself, George. It only numbs pain, it does not take it away."

"Fred..." George frowned, seeing the marks on both of Westman's wrists. "You...you tried slitting your own wrists, didn't you?"

"Yes." said Westman, pulling his sleeve back down. "Fortunately it did not work, the wounds only healed themselves. You can only kill a vampire with a stake through the heart or by giving them poison. If I were to relapse and fall back into my pattern, I would much rather my cause of death be by poisoning. I'd want to feel myself slipping away, feel all the pain I can for my misdeeds."

"Why didn't you tell me!?" Westman and George were startled to hear Jim. They both turn to see him along with Blaire and Oliver by his side.

"Jim, I wanted to. I really did-" Westman was cut off as Jim slapped him.

"Be quiet." Jim narrowed his brows, his voice cold. "You kept this from me, Fred- from all of us!"

"I had to!" Westman defended himself. "How could I tell you that I had been...you would have thought I had gone insane! They...they all told me to do it!"

"Who told you to do it?" Ollie asked, seeing the panic on Westman's face. Westman couldn't it find it within himself to build up any kind of courage and instead blurts out the secret he had been keeping for over a month.

"The voices! They told me to do it! It was the voices, I tell you! They threatened to hurt the people I care about! It sounds like madness, I know, but you must believe me!"

Westman's tearful expression made Jim rethink his entire mental state. Blaire and Ollie thought about theirs too.

"You aren't alone, Fred." Jim said softly. "I hear them too."

"As do I." Blaire added with a nod. Ollie nodded too.

"I do as well. We're all mad, I suppose. Mad like the Mad Hatter himself."

Westman thought about it. Mad as hatters...yes. it was true. All four of them possessed traits of insanity, neither insane nor sane. "We are neither insane or sane. We are caught in the middle, trapped in limbo."