Consequences of The Dead

He stood there wondering if the world he had imagined would indeed come to fruition, his sanity was like a river, flowing in one direction, unstoppable, his body a temple, waiting for its worshipers. It would come to pass that in the end his true friends where those that stood on that wall he so adamantly rejected despite himself and his allies like a cliche, betrayers, all of them. To Erik, there was only one pure truth left, one revelation that had undone his insanity, course corrected his soul; his oldest of friends, perhaps one could say his reluctant mentors, the duo, Jean-Luc and Grimwald came through for him in the end.
As we walked over to the building address outlined on the hastily written note he still questioned everything, his mind an uncontrollable device that ran on something unwittingly. It was a harsh reality, it was Grimwald who brought him his prize for which Erik would be forever grateful, but who was behind the tragedy in the first place? Erik was about to get what he wanted, thinking it impossible just a few years ago, yet he could not shake the many unanswered question boiling to the surface. Who did this and why?
Was he being manipulated, was he once again falling to the kindred games that proliferated everything? Is this just the next act of a play orchestrated by a puppet master behind the scenes? Perhaps. It did not matter in the moment, all that had any worth to him, he would be reunited with. She would restore him, bring him back to his morale center and relinquish him of his kindred tendencies that had grown in her absence. He longed to hear her call out his name.
The shadow of thoughts would not relent. He considered for a moment as he approached the door fo this abandoned warehouse the true method in which this was all arranged. He imagined some dark figure plunging the stake into her heart and dragging her body to this lifeless place. This vile creature preserved her no doubt with some menacing purpose as part of some kindred plot to manipulate him. He could not shake the feeling of helplessness that Ariela represented, she was his weakness, his achilles heel. As quick as the thought entered his mind, the serene feeling of peace overcame him because in the end it did not matter anymore, trying to convince his mind that it was all just history. All that was important, all the emotion which he could muster was invested in the moment. It was her, always, nothing else mattered and perhaps in that moment he had some understanding in how so many vampires he had met in his many days behaved. Jean-Luc, Grimwald, even Isabella. They act like Vampires, but their motives, their true nature in the end of it all, they still pursued like him the reminiscence of their humanity, That tickle of love they had left to give, reserving it for the one who made them whole. Arial was his sanity, his humanity and in moments he would be reunited with her after hundreds of years of living with her final death.
He swung the door open to the abandoned warehouse, an unfit dourly, filthy, unfit for the beauty that emanated from the creature of his affection. He searched the large room, it took time, his anticipation for the moment of their embrace was unbearable as he scoured the abandoned warehouse. It was a stagnated, untouched place, years had passed here without notice, how lonely she must have been.
Perhaps instinct, or the scent, drew him to a box, just the right size to fit her frail body. He knew before he ravaged the crate that this was her resting place. He tore at it like an animal trying to get to the meat of a fresh corpse. It took time, the wood was old, hardened, it did not release easily.
When he finally got to his prize, he paused, to review the site. While aged hundreds of years the stains of blood still lay upon her shirt. She laid their cold, dead, but her expression was not peaceful. Her final moments were not graceful, it tormented Erik, whoever put her in this state, did it with cruelty and menace. The stake while wooden, was preserved in the old ways, the ways of the kindred to ensure the stake would not rot and could stand the test of time. Whoever did this wanted to make sure the prize would remain still for centuries. Erik imagined someone planning it, the viciousness of it angered him, just another hill in the emotional rollercoaster he was on.
"Come here", the command was issued to the mortal who followed him in dead silence, he had almost completely forgotten about her. For a moment he looked at the creatures mortal eyes which reminded him that he was a monster. This would be premeditated, this young women would die and she did not deserve to. Erik chose her because her blood was sweet, he knew Ariela would love it and for her, only the best. "Stand here", he commanded and the mortal obeyed without making a sound.
He reached for the wooden stake with both hands, steadying his footing to ensure he could pull it out in a single tug. He didn't know if it would somehow relieve her of pain, but it seemed logical to do it swiftly and despite all of his years, he had neither experienced being staked or known anyone who had.
With a single pull the stake was out, her dead eyes opened with supernatural speed. She said nothing, only for a moment gazing into Erik's eyes, but there was no emotion there. The scent hit her, and she was upright with fangs extracted in a mere celerity infused flash. The mortal whimpered as Ariela bit her viciously and drank deeply. Soon there was silence, broken up only when the cold dead body hit the floor. Ariela turned to Erik.
Erik had played this moment in his mind over and over. They would gaze into each others eyes, say nothing and embrace, holding each other after all of these years, letting it all melt away.
Her expression did not match expectation. She was angry, her eyes were violent, her fists tightened, her body ready to attack. She only said one word at first. "Why?", with a voice of rage clearly directed at Erik.
Stunned and uncertain exactly what Ariela was talking about he tried to speak, but Ariela's question was rhetorical as she interrupted him moving aggressively towards him.
"Where is he, where is our child?" she demanded, but again this was not a question for Erik who was fumbling for words. This was the accusation of a mother who already knew the answer.
She looked at her feet, her eyes blinked several times as she examined the floor and then her surroundings. It was clear memories were flashing back to her and when she stumbled upon one, she again directed her rage at Erik who seemed to have forgotten how to speak.
"You used our child in kindred games!", she screamed the words. "It was you!", her voice booming louder and louder. "How could you do that to me, to Yeargen?". It seemed she was about to outright attack, but then suddenly stopped. Her rage turned somber.
Erik had his chance to explain, but silence hung in the air for a moment, as Erik remained at a loss for words.
The pair stared at each other for still moment, Ariela's eyes softened, Erik was about to speak when suddenly she was gone.
Erik was left in the abandoned warehouse alone.