1.23: The Voice

Sorry in advance for the crappiness

Azaria sat back, deep in thought, and stared at the computer screen blankly. She had found time to continue a little writing project she started while pregnant with the twins. It was a book series: The Bloody Chronicles; semi-autobiography, semi-fiction. So far it was going well - she had even finished the first book and was waiting for a publisher to get back to her - until she had hit a block trying to figure out how to end the latest chapter of book two: a chapter recounting her experience in raising the twins.

(Rhea is on the left)

Isis and Rhea were now two years old and the house was never quiet. In the beginning it was hard, really hard, to do the little things like preparing bottles of formula in split seconds and changing stinky diapers.

Stinky diapers...

The nursery scene in Davrin’s mansion was so clear and now she laughed to herself at her own disgusted reaction.

 Five and a half years ago she had a chosen not to play a role in Troye’s development – a choice she deeply regretted but had now chosen to rectify.

Honestly speaking, the smell really wasn’t that bad. She just didn’t hang around pooping babies - ever - until the twins came along.

“Oh, you’re continuing with that.” Jared stated resentfully as he found her typing, deleting and typing some more.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She asked airily as she leaned forward in the chair and typed out a few random words hoping to string a decent sentence together.

 Jared had started reading the first book with enthusiasm until the steamy but rocky romance between Vitoria and Kahn, the vampire, only seemed to make him increasingly jealous.

He had said that she was writing about her fantasy romance with Davrin; he always looked for the tiniest of details to use as ammunition for a fight: they seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

 “Tell me, does Vitoria realise that deep down she has feelings for Kahn and that she doesn’t want to be with James?” The words seemed to come out of nowhere but it was evident, to him, that Vitoria and Kahn would live happily ever after while James would land up broken and used.

“Just like you.” The voice in his head hissed.

“It’s just a book, J!” She stood up, closed Microsoft Word and faced him angrily. He was blowing things out of proportion: again.

“Oh let me rephrase... Does Azaria realise she has strong feelings for Davrin? Or am I imagining things?” He raised his eyebrow.  

“You are.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him disbelievingly. ‘How could he insinuate such things?’

“Well imagine me leaving. You could use that in your book!”

“J please-” Before she could finish he turned on his heel and shut the study door behind him.

“-don’t be like this.”

It was times like this when she started questioning their relationship. She had loved him all those years ago but she changed and deep down, although she refused to admit it, her feelings had changed too. But she couldn’t leave him. They had two daughters to think about and the last thing she wanted was them to hate her later in life for separating them from their father.

Ever since Egypt his behaviour had grown erratic and irrational: the first crack in their relationship. She tried to tell him it was mind tricks Davrin was playing on him; that the vampire was alive but imprisoned somewhere according to the fortune teller, but every time he heard that name he refused to let her speak and pulled his infamous line: “I don’t want to hear it”. So she stopped trying to tell him to avoid being called a gullible loon for a second time. 

Most days he was his normal self; other days it was as though he were possessed by Davrin’s jealous and insecure spirit. Today was one of those days. She glanced over at the computer and considered deleting the entire thing. Their relationship was already rocky: she couldn’t remember the last time they were intimate, or the last time he had told her he loved her – never mind the last time she had said those three words. She sighed and went to check on the twins. Rhea had started crying.

As he drove Jared heard a malicious laugh go off in his head.

“That stupid book caused all of this!”
The voice spoke. “That stupid book about him...She doesn’t love you. It’s always been Davrin. It always will be. It would be better if you just let things go. You would be so much better off without her!”

“Shut up!” Jared screamed. He was going crazy. All these thoughts kept flowing into his head and he couldn’t explain it. There were times when he did things he couldn’t stop himself from doing. But somehow he found a little truth in it. There was hardly any passion between them but when she wrote the love scenes between Vitoria and Kahn raw passion emanated through.

He wished things were like that between them but all she seemed to really care about were the twins and Troye. He recalled his last trip to Bridgeport for another movie filming. She accompanied him while the twins stayed with her mother. Everywhere they went her eyes darted around, looking for a toddler who bore the slightest resemblance to Troye. When they returned, her secret search over, she slumped into a mild depressive state unable to do anything but spend time taking care of their daughters. She wouldn’t let him do anything; not even change a diaper.

“She shouldn’t have gone to see that old hag; we shouldn’t even have gone to Egypt. She’s still trying to fill a void.” Now he was talking to himself; as if he needed any more symptoms of insanity.

‘You know what you need? A stiff one. A drink or two wouldn’t hurt’. Maybe the voice was right. He needed an escape and a little clarity.

Several hours later Jared walked in reeking of alcohol and stale smoke. Azaria had waited up, her temper rising at his carelessness to phone her and tell her where he was.

“It’s okay if you luff him. I knew you never luffed me. All these years why would you?” He stumbled around before finding the back of the sofa for support. “I don’t have all that myztery and senshooalty and erocticism. Isn’t that what you like?”

She stared at him, shaking her head. He continued slurring an incomprehensible barrage of words not registering the look of disgust and disappointment etched on her face.

“You should get to bed and sleep this off.” She kept her voice steady and calm, despite her desire to yell at him for being so damn irresponsible.

“I’m not a child!” He threw her arm off and made the bold decision to walk down the stairs unassisted.

“The voicesss made me do it. Drink.” He made a chugging motion and laughed deliriously to himself.

“Was he really a fampire? That Dalveen bloke. Or was he like a psycho ex you couldn’t shake off?” He spoke loudly, waking one of the twins up. Azaria would see to her after she got the biggest baby of the house to bed. She followed him, ushering him toward the guest room. She wasn’t prepared to sleep next to a drunk with word vomit tonight.

“I should call him sometime.” He pulled out his phone and dialled some obscure number before passing out cold on the floor.

Davrin paced up and down deep in thought. It would take a little more than one drunken night to get rid of Jared. Azaria was already aware he was still alive and was probably behind the violent mood swings her lover was increasingly susceptible to. He had tuned in to their conversations and in many of them she had tried to tell Jared about him. Fortunately the dubious fool wouldn’t hear a word of it. He would have to play his cards right if he really wanted to be back with her; to have her not hate him for everything.

“If I showed her my good side...” He laughed. “Who am I kidding? I don’t have one of those.” He rubbed his chin considering all the legitimate ways in which he could be with her again but all of them seemed so stupid and impossible. What he really should be thinking of is a way to get out of here. ‘Dig a hole? No that’s menial work for humans. Good behaviour? This isn’t prison, you idiot. You don’t get an early release for good behaviour! What about hypnosis? No they know the same tricks...’ his thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he heard the familiar voices of Elvira and Beau. They were trying exceptionally hard to keep their voices to an inaudible whisper but they were failing miserably.

“You have the stuff?” Beau held out his hand expecting Elvira to thrust a large capsule in it so he could drug Davrin’s plasma packs.

“The hospital’s getting suspicious. They started asking questions about why I needed two years’ worth of muscle relaxers.” She looked agitated and worried. Her job could possibly be on the line if they found her guilty of abusing her privileges as a doctor.

“Spare me the details and tell me what we’re going to do about this little hitch?”
“We can only throw caution to the wind and hope he co-operates.”
“How long are we going to have to keep this up? Until he reforms? We both know that isn’t going to happen. Wogan can believe what he wants but this guy’s part of your generation.”

With over four hundred years under his belt Davrin was as close as he could be to being one of the Ancients and was almost as devious and cunning as them.

Davrin ignored the rest of the conversation. His delight at no longer being weak and jelly-kneed was enough to refuel his determination to escape.

“What are you grinning at?” Beau barged in and poked him on the chest, anxious that he may have overheard them and seen an opportunity. ‘He’d be a fool to escape right now.’

“The mental torment I’m causing a spineless human.” He lied casually, distancing himself from Beau.