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[RD] The Whispers of Things Left Unsaid


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Claire Thompson

"Father? Father!"

Her small fists, balled in frustration, collide with the door as it fits back into the jam in the wake of his leaving. Elias had come to deliver news of Sarah and, having taken matters into his own hands with no consultation with - or consideration of - anyone else, he has effectively prevented Claire from keeping her promise. I will be here, every step of the way... But she can't be, because the girl has been rendered unconscious in a dungeon, left to live or die alone.

She paces the room, so very aware of its other occupant as she mutters to herself in an attempt to keep it together. This feels like a punishment, just as much as his refusal to stay and talk to her. Claire can understand hurt; this is more akin to contempt.

Fingers clench and unclench, leaving divets in her palm where they dug in too deep. She welcomes the small stab of pain, as it gives her something to focus on instead of this perceived betrayal. He's doing what he thinks is best, she tells herself, just as he always had.

Yet, she is certain there are other roads yielding the same destination.

With a dramatic flourish, she throws herself across the couch, her arm falling over her eyes as she works to keep herself from throwing an all-out tantrum of fire. Even the slightest raise in emotion could prove fatal for her lovely Sarah. The girl needs time to rest and recuperate, and throwing her even deeper into the ravages of fever would prove counterproductive.

One eye peeks from the cover of her appendage, searching the room until it falls to Gray. With a disgruntled sound, she pushes herself back up, kicking her legs helplessly in a small fit of pathetics. "Are we to just sit idly, twiddling our thumbs? I can't... I told her..." But her voice cracks, and she opts out of that line of thinking. "I can't just..." She waves vaguely, ceding defeat.
April 26, 2019 05:22 pm

Gray Taylor

Gray had stared into nothing as Elias Thompson gave his update, and his law. Nothing is even close to desirable, and yet here they are. Stuck. He knows well enough that he would allow Gray down there with Sarah; it would be no skin off his teeth, whatsoever. In fact, part of him wonders if it would be preferred. But right now, Claire is far more important.

So it is with a nod of understanding, he watches as the man turns and goes, fully prepared to handle his charge and her emotions.

What happens next is the closest thing to a hissy fit he may have ever seen.

He even lets out a dark chuckle as he bears witness to her dramatic collapse into the plush couch, reminding him of old films that have been long since forgotten. The amusement doesn't last long though. Gray can feel those undertones of anguish and hurt, topped off beautiful with a touch of rage.

Finally, she pushes herself up after finding him with a single eye, and Gray takes the prompt to cross the space and take a seat next to her. An arm is draped around her shoulders, and he pulls her into his side, pressing a kiss atop her head.

He can remember when he used to do this for Sarah.

Those were different times.

He was a different person.

"You must." Turning his head, he looks at her, silently checking the pulse of her temper. "She is being well cared for, and doesn't feel a thing. But I promise, if it all turns in a different direction, we will get you down there."

He intends to keep that promise, too. Whatever it takes.

"I made a call, had some of your things packed up to be sent here. I figured it might make you more comfortable." Taking a breath, a steel stare would settle upon the door. "..And some of hers."
April 26, 2019 06:14 pm

Claire Thompson

She leans, only slightly begrudging, into his shoulder, mocking his rational words in cool undertones. The truth is, Gray is the only person who would ever see this side of her, bratty and dramatic, if only because any other time demands her pristine grasp on level-headedness. She's still growing, after all; she does need an outlet, in small doses.

Gray, unfortunately, gets the brunt of that.

Still, her expression softens at his promise, and she nudges him jovially. Grateful as she is for him - for she surely wouldn't have made it even this far in her freedom without him - she feels guilty that he has shouldered so much of her burdens. Now, searching his face discreetly, she easily pinpoints the worry and accountability he's taken up, solely because of her. She is a lot; it had helped send her brother to the grave. Her heart sinks at the thought of causing Gray the same sense of loss and desperation.

This depressing thought takes her into their next conversation, and she pushes off the couch moodily. Nose wrinkling, she casts him a discontent glance as she moves to the bookshelves that adorn the walls of nearly every room, trailing her fingers over the bindings. "I don't like him," she confides, referring to his personal driver-assistant-whatever. "He has an air of... depravity around him, it's so unsettling. He'll probably go through all our things, and come into the possession of our most delicate garments." She arches a brow in his direction, pulling a copy of Beowulf from its place as she does. The spine lands in her awaiting hand, and the book falls open to a random page, her eyes drawn to the words that she doesn't see.

"At least, it shouldn't surprise me if he did," she adds absently.

Her eyes graze over the same sentence at least three times as her memory conjures up images of the first time she'd read this particular epic. She marveled at all the adventures she'd read about, wondering what it would be like to just... up and go, with reckless abandon, no thought to the dangers of your own psyche. She'd spent an entire week, demanding all the household reenact it with her, and she would certainly play out all the heroic parts.

She sighs longingly. "I've always wished to be adventurous. But then," Claire laughs, entirely too self-aware, "I think it would make me too anxious."

Returning to the couch, book in tow, she folds her legs underneath her and eyes him curiously. "What did you think your life would turn out like, when you were young?"
April 27, 2019 12:24 pm

Gray Taylor

It takes no time at all for Gray to find the humor in this as she mocks him and makes clear there is little appreciation for his words. Still, he comes to understand that she does trust his word on his promises, and that brings him a greater joy than he has felt in a very lengthy amount of time. It isn't every day that he finds someone he can get along with so easily, that understands him and vice verse.

And then...

He watches as she meanders away, settling upon him a passing glance that speaks volumes compared to her words. This is where Gray truly begins to laugh, a hand coming up to rub at his chin as a sigh escapes him. Leaning back into the couch, that same hand would fall if only to gesture his questioning of her statements. "I realize he isn't the warmest, but he's served me for several years now and there has yet to be an issue."

Still, he takes her concern into consideration, already working through what he can do to improve it.

"Either way, he should be here soon. He landed almost an hour ago," he muses, checking his watch.

His overcast hues would lift up to settle upon her once again, listening as he raises a brow. It is her question that truly brings him to exhale, head tilting back as he tries to find the words as a humorless laugh escapes him. "I thought I'd have a normal life. School, then a job, a wife, children. Sabbath with our families.." How far off the tracks he has gone. "Instead, I got eternity, failed relationships, a dirty job, no children, and as it turns out, your brother seems to have just broken my f-cking brain."

He's never been quite so honest about the state of his discontent.

"Still, I don't regret it."

At this point, he sights would once more on her.

"You should consider taking a trip with Sarah. I know she's likely chomping at the bit. She used to travel all the time. Budapest, Bali, Amsterdam... every strange and less explored place she could find."
April 27, 2019 02:53 pm

Claire Thompson

She listens with a small, empathetic smile, sad as it is. A low laugh follows his assessment of her brother, along with a murmured, "Yes, he seems to have that affect, doesn't he..." Claire had been so adamant about not being compared to her estranged brother, but the similarities are undeniable. He is a tornado, and she, a dormant volcano; different calamities, to be sure, but with the same damaging power. She can only imagine the destruction she will behind, and it makes her stomach churn painfully.

Still, I don't regret it.

Would she? She swallows painfully, as it's too soon to say.

Looking up, she considers his words, grateful for any change in this grim line of thought. "A trip," she muses lightly, leaning back into the couch with a considerably lighter expression. Her face splits into a grin. "A lovely idea. They've postponed the start of this semester due to..."

She trails off, receding back into silence as the door opens, and in walks Gray's driver. She never had learned his name, but his manners leave a lot to be desired, and this lands a glare on Gray. "Oh, good, my things," she mutters darkly, gaze never leaving his face.

Send him away, it says.

"I've brought the requested items, sir," the man offers unnecessarily, and Claire seethes in his general direction.

Suddenly, the door opens, unbidden for the second time, and the girl is just about to lose her tact when her sights land on the face of her father. "Claire, I-" But his sentence dies on the tip of his tongue as he spots the third, clearly unexpected party in the room. A shadow passes over his face. "Who let you in?" comes the dark demand.

In the wake of his question, it's as if time stops for Claire. Her eyes move slowly from her father to the distasteful man, and it's only then that she pieces it together. A portrait on her father's personal sitting room, painted centuries ago, depicting two men. One, dark featured with a signature smirk; the other, light-haired and laughing. "I'd asked for a serious painting of just him," her father had stated with a scowling expression that wasn't met in his eyes, "but he'd insisted, and tricked the painter, too..."

She'd looked at that painting every day since her brother left...

Oh, no...

"Gray," she hears herself say, and time begins to move again, "it's him."

Then, the whole room seems to collide with their sudden movement. The driver, crashing through the window, Elias, already halfway down the hallway and pushing himself faster and faster, orders flying behind him to anyone that would listen.

Kill him on sight.
April 28, 2019 01:27 pm

Gray Taylor

Gray is doing his very best not to laugh under the pressure of Claire’s glaring eyes. He can feel her annoyance rolling off of her in waves, and for whatever reason, he finds it amusing. Endearing, even, a his hand comes to land on her forearm, giving a soft squeeze before he is pushing himself up to stand.

“Thank you, Anthony.”

He is smiling, that Cheshire grin etched onto his features as he approaches. Stress does funny things, when surrounded by those who don’t make it worse. Gray, it would seem, has mindfully chosen flight over fight. Or, maybe it is simply knowing that she needs him to keep a level head more than he could ever need to brood his way through something.

Preparing to handle the presence of his driver entirely, he opens his mouth to speak when the doors open. What happens next sets off a chain of events that Gray can only follow as he observes the reactions on each face, smile quickly disappearing as a raised brow is aimed at Anthony.

“My driver, Mr. Thompson. I apologize for the surprise. Entry was not expected.” His sights flicker toward Elias, a firm hand moving with the intent to usher the faithful driver out of the room and house, when Claire speaks.

His sights return to Elias Thompson, mouth dry and heart suddenly running a mile a minute as the pieces fast fall into place.

It takes less than a second.


Anthony moves quickly, and Gray somehow knew he would, as he is already wheeling around with the intent of shielding Claire. Only once sure Anthony is gone does he move to grab her hand and pull her from her seat. Urgency demands her, and he takes off with the girl in tow, set upon beating the other man to the car.

From the waist of his pants, a gun is pulled.

It is all a waste. The car is present, his runaway driver somewhere.

But the fire is hardly Anthony. It is elsewhere, tucked away where two people share a single cell. One, unconscious. The other, compromised and lethal.

“Come on.” The words barely get out, a quiet growl of frustration escaping him as he pushes them to run once more. This time, it would be into certain chaos.
April 28, 2019 02:16 pm

Claire Thompson

No, no, no, no...

It repeats over and over in her head, or perhaps she mutters it out loud as she's pulled along. Either way, it roars in her ears as she bitterly chastises herself; this should have been a realization made long ago. She had looked at that picture every day. Never mind that her gaze wasn't for the tag-along for Jasper's jab at their father, she still should've known.

"Father's men will get him," a faraway sounding voice insists as they stumble outside to find the car abandoned, and it takes her entirely too long to realize it's her own. "He is one, and they are many, and this is what they are trained for." She is certain of it; there can be no room for doubt.

Come on, he says, but she is already overtaking him. Her unnatural speed is not broken out much, but the severity of the situation has only now hit home, and Mackenzie is in very real danger of doing something that would ultimately kill her.

If not by her own heartbreak, Elias would see it done.

She careens pasr their former prison, now solely occupied by an unconscious Sarah. However, rounding the first corner that would lead to the winding route and, eventually, the compromised chamber, she is forcibly stopped. "No, Claire," she hears the familiar voice of one of Elias' advisors, his damnable grip holding her tight, "your father insisted. It is too dangerous."

Sad eyes, pleading and desperate, land on the approaching form of Gray, and she pulls away from her makeshift captor to clutch at his arm. "You have to help them. He won't hesitate if she puts up too much of a fight." She lightly shoves him then, into the direction of the hesitant advisor, who kicks himself into gear with the force of Claire's withering glare and leads him through the passageway.

Alone, she runs into the occupied room, vaulting over Sarah to fumble with the intercom. She is careful not to make any noise, for fear of startling the occupants, but she needs to hear everything.

"Mackenzie," Elias' voice is soft, teeth clenching dangerously, "you are compromised, please, you have to trust me, and this is your final chance..."

Behind her, Sarah begins to stir...
April 28, 2019 03:10 pm


Everything had been fine. Jasper continued to sleep, she continued to remain by his side. Her stomach would grumble at times, demanding sustenance where there is none, and she would ignore it. She is healthy, and there is no need to ask for things. The focus is right here in the room with her, and she rests her head over that lovely heart.

It changes once Elias comes in.

Mackenzie feels almost cornered though she stands on her own two feet beside the cot where her husband rests. Stubborn as ever and far too loyal to Jasper alone, she remains firmly in place. There is not enough information being shared, and she has not heard a thing of what is happening outside this cell.

“I have been compromised,” she responds easily, on edge and unprepared for whatever might be happening. As if this has ever changed. As if being in this room somehow kept her out of reach of her puppeteer.

Out of her peripheries, she catches sight of movement, immediately knowing that Claire is present. It wouldn’t be Gray. Not in a million years. Still, she doesn’t dare look away from Elias.

“It was made abundantly clear that I wouldn’t be leaving him,” she whispers, head tilting as the ghost of her heart thrums, loud and strong.

It strikes her then, Claire’s presence.

Cool blue eyes turn toward the girl, taking her in as she watches with something akin to horror. Her brow cinches, and Mackenzie looks at Elias once more, doing her very best to judge the situation.

Hurried footsteps.

A sharp intake of breath from Sarah.

The cot, creaking just slightly as she shifts where she stands, hitting her shin upon the metal and eliciting profanity to spill from her lips.

Whatever this is, she isn’t party to it.


Mackenzie shakes her head minutely.

“I can’t. I told you, Elias. He can’t be alone. I’m sorry, but no.”
April 28, 2019 03:37 pm

Claire Thompson

"Mackenzie, please..." Claire begs her attention, carefully ignoring the minute shift in Elias' posture, signalling his upset. She can appeal to the woman's reason, she knows it. If she's in the onset of one of her trances, she is at least still coherent. Claire has never done this before, and doesn't know what to look for.

"He's here," she practically whispers, as if he stands in the shadows, waiting for his chance. "The one who turned you... He's here, on the grounds. You have to get out of here, for Jasper's sake."

She hears her. Claire knows she has.

Her icy hues turn to the girl, then are pulled downward to Jasper.

But Elias doesn't hesitate.

Seizing his chance, he is across the room, habds closing on her arms and pinning them to her sides. Fangs flash in the light as he lets out a feral growl, though Claire is certain - nearly - that this isn't a move to kill, but to contain. "Don't fight!" she screams over the din, hoping to be heard.
April 28, 2019 04:20 pm


Was that really so hard?

Mackenzie maintains her watch of her father in law, though she listens to Claire’s whispered words. Clear and concise, they fall upon her, bringing her to take a sharp intake of breath.

She doesn’t even notice, when nothing happens.

Her heart sinks, gaze shifting toward Claire as she comes to realize what a precarious position they are all in. If she were thinking more clearly and not so hung up on it all, she might have given some sort of signal that she understands and plans to comply. But she doesn’t. Instead, her mind is buzzing at the thought of finally having a chance at giving this unknown her fullest wrath.

She desires nothing more than to hunt her hunter.

Once final glance is had toward Elias, and Mackenzie swallows as she lets her sights fall to Jasper. This perfect, handsome man. They’re right. She should go. He cannot defend himself and if this is all the case, she is very much a threat. Intention is everything, and hers would never come to fruition.

All she had wanted was to kiss him goodbye.

Powerful hands grasp onto her, taking her by surprise. A growl in close proximity is enough to send her reeling, defenses going up without a single thought.

It is instantly a struggle. Mackenzie doesn’t even hear Claire’s command as instinct kicks in.

Thank f-ck for all those nights spent underground.

There are many things Mackenzie has learned from Jasper, but perhaps the one thing that is most prevalent is what happens next. An irritated growl, and her own head flying with the intent to collide into Elias’, full force.

It is all in the name of drawing the line, and reclaiming her freedom.
April 28, 2019 04:45 pm

Claire Thompson

"No," she would scream, but it comes out as a hoarse whisper. She hears the sickening crack of their heads colliding, and her legs turn to jelly as Elias stumbles back, blind-sided. Her own head pounds sympathetically as her small fists beat at the glass, trying to get their attention as she pleads. But it's no use, she can see it in his face. The shift.

This is no longer a containment operation.

Regaining himself, and with the sickening speed of a centuries old, seasoned killer, he flings her bodily into the nearest wall. Jasper may have taught her a few things, but Elias had ignited that spark inside of him, the one that drove his instinct to always fight, and rarely flight. He didn't survive this long on mere chance.

Claire can barely follow their movements for how fast they maneuver around each other and, under very different circumstances, she might marvel at the agility of full-blooded vampires. "Gray, where are you," she mutters under bated breath; even then, what can he do?

Unable to stand any longer, her legs manage to fold neatly and bring her to her knees. Forehead pressed against the glass, Claire can't bring herself to look away, for fear of missing something paramount.

Sarah shifts, and overcast eyes tear over to her. Distrustful of her legs in their current state, she crawls over to her as her eyes begin to flutter open, and it suddenly dawns on her.

She is in this room.

Still standing.

Horrified, her gaze falls to Jasper, and the slow but unmistakable process of waking up.
April 28, 2019 05:13 pm


The moment her head connects, Mackenzie knows it is all over. Within seconds, Elias is propelling her away, her back hitting a wall with a sharp crack that knocks the wind out of her entirely. There isn’t time for recovery, and she knows that the minute he is upon her.

The sequence of events that come next are a challenge. Teeth bared, fists fly and and from the outside looking in, it must very well looking like some lethal version of a catfight. Elias is seasoned, and she is out of her depth as she does her best to fend him off.

It goes fine, until she gnashes her teeth too close to his neck.

The act, so threatening, is seemingly his final straw.

Within seconds, she is pressed back into a wall and just barely keeping him off of her. “Elias, stop,” Mackenzie would beg the man, all but tapping herself out of the fight.

And then there is movement behind him, and her attention shifts just enough to see Jasper pushing himself to stand with his sights trained on the pair of them.

It spells nothing but trouble, and Mackenzie finds herself working that much harder to free herself from a crushing grip if only to stop the inevitable. Now is not the time to kill one another. The real threat is just coming to his full height.

All she can do is try to get Elias’ attention with a single, strangled word.

April 28, 2019 06:35 pm

Jasper Thompson

His mind is hazy.

Every intake of breath feel likes fire.

He hears commotion far off in the distance, but it is not his lot to concern himself with. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, he wonders rather carelessly if he's dead. But, no. He's been dead before, and this... this isn't it.

The noise gets louder and louder in his ears, and he physically strains to get away from it, feeling his eyes squeeze tight with exertion. It's futile and he knows it; begrudgingly, he accepts his changing state.

His body still protests, despite his mental consent, and his head rolls from side to side on the pillow. Eyelids crack, allowing the smallest amount of light in, and even that's too much. They drift shut once again.

By now, what had surely just been a conversation seconds ago has taken a turn for the destructive. It's all magnified in his aching head, ricocheting off the walls of his skull and getting louder with each connection. He groans, but no one pays him any mind.

Chancing opening his eyes again, his gaze focuses in and out on... Claire? And she's knelt beside who looks to be Sarah, much in the same condition he gathers himself to be in. But why is his sister looking at him like that?


With another low groan, he pushes himself up, ripping tubes out of his arms out of habit. There's a growing frustration in the back of his mind as he tries to hone in on the culprit of all the ruckus. Stretching his muscles laboriously, he glances around, only to lock eyes with a very familiar gaze.


His neck snaps unseemly as the recently dormant rage bursts the flood gates. All at once, he remembers where he is, and all at once, he reads the situation.

Elias is trying to kill his wife.

Elias put him in here.


There's no rationalizing; this illness doesn't allow for that. Instead, it relies on his aggression, and right in this moment, he can only oblige.

His feet barely touch the floor.

A hand darts out and tangles in the dark hair on the back of his father's head, and Jasper yanks back hard enough to break his connection with Mackenzie. It's clear he possesses the element of surprise, as Elias had been too wrapped up in his task to take heed of his surroundings.

A fool's mistake.

Fingers clench harder, exposing the fleshy part of the neck, and Jasper's wastes no time. This has been the final straw, and Elias would pay for this betrayal, if none of the others. Fangs exposed, they quickly sink into the bulging vein, crimson fluid gushing down his dry, aching throat. His other hand has snaked around to the abdomen, long fingers sinking right past his skin as if it were the consistency of water.

Elias gasps. Having been pulled from his attack, he's face to face with Claire, who surely mirrors his shock tenfold. The poor child; such a sweet, innocent thing, and the world was far too unforgiving. He shakes his head infinitesimally, willing her to close her eyes and knowing she would see it all.

"Jasper," he manages through his broken airway, his windpipe having been crushed by the increasing force of his demise.

No further sound is uttered, though, save the violent whoosh that emanates from somewhere inside the vampire. Jasper breaks contact then, and his victim drops to his knees.

Much like the wolf, Aodh, Elias Thompson falls to hellfire, consumed from the inside out.

Jasper would do anything for Mackenzie.

No matter his state.
April 28, 2019 07:26 pm


He's not listening.

She tries again, this time with far more urgency.


Everything is happening so slowly, and yet it is mere seconds.

By the time Jasper is upon him, she is tapping her hand against the wall in much the same way she does during their fights in the underground. This time, however, it is for Elias' attention.

It's too late.

Jasper grabs at him, effectively removing him from her with a hard yank, and she is both grateful and terrified. In the process, however, she finds herself crippled in an insurmountable pain as the arm that was pressed against her neck slides with a heavy force. There is no stopping herself from dropping, coughing wildly as a result.

Everything hurts.

She is calling out for him, a hazy set of eyes lifting to find Jasper with his teeth sunk into Elias.

Everything happens so fast. Still, she tells herself that she can do this. Mackenzie pushes herself up, haggard as she is, prepared to run at her husband and knock him away. There are words on the tip of her tongue as she moves, but they don't make it out.

Not before a fire causes her to stop, forcing her back lest she burn with him.

This is all her fault.

Stubborn, willful woman that she is. If she had just listened. If she had simply done as she was bid and not been so damn hard headed in her state of tunnel vision. Her loyalty is what did this.

Remembering one fine detail, Mackenzie's attention turns to fall on a small girl on the other side of the glass. Claire had seen it all.


The door to their cell closes, and Mackenzie swallows as she watches a familiar figure walk into the other side of the cell.

Without a single thought, she looks at Jasper, immediately moving toward him. Her arms wrap around him, a tight, trembling embrace that speaks of all her love and fear.

Careful, she works to turn him away.
April 28, 2019 09:00 pm

Gray Taylor

Gray had made it to the very first room just before Jasper woke up, steely eyes trained on the screens that portray the carnage just seconds away. They are hustling to prepare his entrance, truly, but not nearly enough. Mackenzie could hold her own, surely. Elias, however, is not backing down.

Not even as she starts to lose control.

Not even as she...

Eyes flashing, he shoves the gun in another’s hand, barking an order that surely would give pause to all as he pushes his guide back the direction they came.

Shoot Jasper, he’d said.

By the time they make it to the other side of the cell, Elias is naught but ash. And Claire is watching. Barely a glance is afforded to his own hysterical sister as he pushes past her, rushing to grab at a well placed syringe from a table as he comes up behind the young girl.

A firm hand comes to grip her arm, and it is without thought as he wheels her around and brings her colliding into him. Gray wraps her up, insisting to her despite the situation that she is okay, everything is okay.

He has her.

Steel hues lock onto the cell as Mackenzie takes Jasper into a hard embrace, an odd mirror of himself and Claire.

The door opens again.

One suited man enters, and a gun is raised.

He swears in that moment that she knows. It is as if Mackenzie had somehow predicted this all, but surely not. There is no way she could. She is turning Jasper away, and placing herself in that path.

A single shot would ring out, striking her in the back, effectively missing the intended entirely. A gasp of air escapes him and nothing more as he watches her crumble into Jasper.

“It’s going to be okay,” is all he would whisper, voice betraying him as it shakes, and he plunges the needle into Claire’s shoulder as gently as he can.

Anything, for her.

Even this.
April 28, 2019 10:57 pm
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