An accouting of Julia
Dangerous.
“For months I’ve had dreams and nightmares about how perfectly he personifies the word. Sleep-laden, alternate realities where I can vividly smell his musky male scent, feel his hard body against mine. Taste the sweet and sensuous flavor of him. Like milk chocolate with its silk demand that I indulge in one more bite. And another. So good I’d forgotten there’s a price for over indulgence. And there is a price. There is always a price. I was reminded of this lesson. And I know now, no matter what he says, No matter what he does, I cannot… will not see him again. “ ~An accounting of Julia.
No clan, no family, no partner.
Jules worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she leaned against the glass of her home, fingers spread wide, her palms against the glass. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, more recently anything but where she was. She felt alone, sure she had her close circle of friends; but it didn’t account for the fact that she had done what she thought she’d never have to do. Her fingers pressed hard into the glass, turning the tips white.
“It started out as other adventure with him, Unpredictable. Exciting. I barely remember how it all went wrong. How it took such a dark turn.” – An accounting of Julia
She turned and leaned back against the window, leg propped up. She was always invariably stoic all the time; nearly emotionless. Usually that is how she was. Training herself to just not give a damn and just mechanically go through the actions of orders. She was tired of it, tired of so much. Preferring to watch others and stay quiet. Keeping to herself. Her forearm still hurt incredibly bad, even thought it was healed.
It was a piece of emotional hurt that went far deeper than the cut did.
“I was vulnerable. Never in my life had I taken orders from a man; most certainly I had never thought that I would quiver with anything, but I did for him. If the nights proved anything, it was that once I was with him, under his spell, he could demand anything of me, and I’d comply.” ~ An accounting of Julia.
She sighed and stared at her phone, the hurt just rolled through her, eyes filling with pink tinged tears, the tears slipping down her cheeks unbidden. She didn’t even justify them, just simply let them come. It was like a damn breaking within her. Loyalty, but at what cost? She thought. She felt the anger seep into her slowly. Replacing the emotional hurt, it was a fire that singed through her veins, making her tricolored blue yes flare in a bright light. Shadows flickered behind everything, rage was as it was. Like fire, unpredictable. Julia stalked to a chair and gripped it in her right hand; she turned on her heel and hurled it at the glass windows. The chair flipped end over end heedlessly, tumbling through the air until it met the glass in a loud crash.
“He could push me to the edge, to unbelievable places I’d never thought I would go. Exactly why I can’t see him again. He makes me feel possessed, and what is so disconcerting about this, is that I like it. I can hardly wrap my mind around allowing such a thing.” ~An accounting of Julia
Shatters of glass fall all around her; the force of the chair meeting the glass was so extreme. Like a bomb setting off in all directions with the force outwards. In a vague way she thought it looked like glitter, millions of shards going in all different directions, until a pieces started to hit her skin. Little cuts… a thousand cuts. It didn’t matter, this was rage. This was full on rage, and hurt.
“…Again silence. And the wisp of fabric. More strange sounds. Long seconds ticked by, and I remember the chill that snaked across my skin. The feeling of dread that had balled in my stomach.” ~An accounting of Julia.
She was grabbing things now, hurling them all over the place as the finality of it all settled into her. It didn’t settle well with her; she felt horrible, she felt great. Liberated in an odd way. “I am my on mistress. I am my own….” Her mind briefly flashed to the court of Queen Elizabeth the first, and her pronouncement. Jules lips compressed into a thin line, as her hands stilled; another thought protruding on-top that one; her mind racing.
“No… that isn’t what I want, either.” She said hoarsely, her accent a curious mixture of Greek and English. Just a bastardization of long age. Generally she could control that, but it wasn’t about control. Everything spun so fast around her. Events unfolding at a rapid clip, she felt like she was mentally scrabbling for solid ground to stand on. Grabbing a bottle that was open on her bar, it was littered with many opened bottles, a vast colorful array of liquids. Another thing that shouted her indecision of so many things.
But one thing was clear; abundantly clear. She had cleared the slate herself. “To spreading my wings.”
“And then, this moment I know I will die remembering. The moment when the steel of a blade touched my lips. The moment that he promised there was pleasure in pain. The moment when the blade traveled along my skin with the proof he would be true to his words. And I knew then that I had been wrong. He was not dangerous. Nor was he chocolate. He was lethal, a drug, and I feared…” ~ An accounting of Julia
Lifting the bottle to her lips, she took a long swig, then pulled up a half broken chair to sit on it. She hooked one of her bare foot onto one leg, and the other barely touching the floor, using her toes to balance the weight out of the wobbly chair. Her hair was mess, falling down in frizzy waves; from running her hands haphazardly through the locks all night in frustration, anger, and sadness; it had all left a very bitter taste in the back of her throat. Bitter sweet, beyond those words, were the feelings.
Promises that were said, words that felt like just a hollow shell, things were spoken to her that really felt like it was just a compromise to her. She didn’t want a bloody compromise, she wanted something altogether different. It was all overwhelming for her. She shoved another hand through her hair and tried to smooth it. What a hopeless mess it all was.
What would you do, if your world fell apart?
“He owns the air around him, and yours, too. He’s strikingly male, strikingly attractive, exuding raw masculine power. He is what I think we all secretly want to be: in control of everything we are and everything we might one day be.” ~An accounting of Julia.
Julia walked to her desk, the crunching of glass beneath her feet. It sounded like dry rocks all clustered and heaped together on a dry beach. She made her way through the chaos that was her home to her desk and bent to pick up a chair, righting it she sat down slowly at her desk. Or what left of it. Pen in hand she bent over the bound journal as she wrote. Candle light only provided a dull glow, casting a yellow light everywhere. Her right hand was smudged with black ink. Her left hand was what she wrote with. She sat and just wrote, she needed to write; just write it all down. She thought. Listing the questions in a serious order.
'Order was what followed after chaos.
What do I want?
What do I now do?'
She laughed out loud, a sardonic tinkle of joy. “Just what would Jesus do?” she said with mirth. Once she had seen the man, he was the most peaceful of creatures. To afraid to actually meet him. What would a creature of god think of a creature like her? Huddle around the corner with her himation pulled up to cover her hair, and shoulders. Skin like hers would show like brilliant moonlight; and the devil lurked in the shadows.
Most likely not anything good, she picked her pen back up and adjusted it, and wrote.
‘Me? I would do anything. I am capable of it. Unstable in the oddest of ways with surety of others. I think I died a little tonight, I most assuredly felt that a piece of me that died. I died in ways that wasn’t possible. I died in ways that made me bleed, if I had the capability to die. I…”
“I’d do anything to know and understand who I truly am. And I think that tonight, that was exactly what I was looking for: Me. I didn’t realize it until I met him.” ~ An accounting of Julia
Pausing she looked up at her desk some books still stacked neatly in rows, the others falling over on their sides. Reaching up she grabbed one, gold lettering on the outside. Ancient paper yellowed and curling in the edges and corers. The past came barreling up, angry on it's heels as her eyes peered at the words. She took a deep breath started to read.
“The worse part? I still crave my dream, to the point that I couldn’t force myself to walk away …” ~ An accounting of Julia
-Rome after the fall of Pomeii -
“My general, mine. He is mine and I am his.
He is what I always wanted him to be, powerful. I can still taste every piece of him.”
Jules paused, this was a very dark road to travel down. Her past wasn’t the thing of modern vampires these nights. Instead this was opening the door and falling backwards in time. A time, she didn’t think she wanted to go back too.
“The Lessons are learned from the past Julia.” She said more to herself, as if reminding herself. That this… this was what she was; a piece of her.
“…. Every piece of him. From his impossible stature atop a horse always so commanding, his wife who would have affairs with what-ever took her fancy. This household that I am now bound to, will kill me. I will see my death here. If I didn’t die in Pompeii. I will surely die here. I know it. I…”
Her eyes read over the words, she suddenly felt like she was eighteen again. All uncertainty, all guesses and would have’s.
“I dreamed of the man from Rome, but remarkably I can’t remember the details. I know it was dark and delicious, the way a man like him is meant to be dreamed about. Why can I remember the nightmare of Pompeii, and the bitter ashes in my mouth. Yet the dream about a sexy man escapes me entirely. It’s all very vague and I am just slave… to him.” ~ An accounting of Julia
“When his eyes lifted to mine again, he said “Last chance to back out.” I lifted my chin and met his stare. “I don’t want to back out.” Satisfaction slid over his face. “Then there are rules.” And right then and there I thought I would slide to the ground, my knees unable to hold me up. Freedom had its limitations, and he wasn’t freedom. He was another cage. Only it was gilded, and I found myself drawn to a gilded cage verses the one that I had escaped. “Rules are meant to be broken.” I replied in a shaky voice.” ~An accounting of Julia
“His voice is what broke first through to me. I was floating, high from the sensations of him. The tensions eased from his hands. “You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.” His hand sliding up over my shoulder to grip into my hair, using that subtle gesture to control me; my eyes followed him. I had come to expect things from him. I was greedy, I wanted to assert my own control over him by any means necessary. Only in my assumptions did I find out, that I shouldn’t assume anything about this man.” ~ An accounting of Julia
“My eyes hadn’t released his hold, he leaned forward, his hand forcing my chin even higher. “Are you so sure about that?” He looked smug, always in control. His eyes boring into mine. “I… yes.” I tried to jerk my chin away, but his hand tightened his grip. “You are an enigma, Julia. I’ll have fun breaking you.” I felt my world tilt, it had been tilting; and it had just tilted farther on its axis.” ~ An accounting of Julia
“Oh gods, why am I swinging? I… my hands, they are tied. I twist my wrists and the pain is shooting down my arms. My fingers are numb, this is hell. I’ve entered hell. I’ve voluntarily entered hell. I mentally corrected myself. My eyes open, the whole room is engulfed in darkness. Not a single lamp oil to illuminate it, I have no idea where I am in. Other than a room. I release a breath and gasp, my feet are shackled and this is what pain is. This is what hunger is, thirst…” ~ An accounting of Julia.
“My head is killing me. The door opened so that bright light blinded me. My eyes shot in pain, it was shooting in my skull. I jerked my head back and tried to hide them behind my arm. I didn’t dare close them. Closing them would mean I wasn’t living and I wanted to live.” ~ An accounting of Julia.
“I screamed kicking out. “Oh gods!” I screamed, the sound echoing. Tears squeezing past my clenched shut eyes. A swift foot came and kicked me hard in the stomach. The pain sent me into spasms, I gagged through it. Trying to drag a breath into my starving lungs, I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.” ~An accounting Julia.
“Darkness meant peace. It was a well-known familiar feeling to me by now. It meant a little solace to my aching muscles, my bruises. Every command he whispered against my skin. Every part of him consumed me. I wanted to be consumed, swallowed whole by him. I knew the ending was near. I was ready.” ~An accounting of Julia.
"I was ready, more than ready. My son was sleeping, I knew it in my heart at least he would go on, and I wouldn't. Sacrifices were made for the greater good. I lived in this state of hell, with him. My general. Until I felt his teeth rip into my neck, I wanted to be numb to it all. I needed to be numb. I was dying." ~ An accouting of Julia