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Oakhurst held plenty of bad memories for Pyro. Which was... an understatement.
The 200 years since he had finally escaped this place hadn’t let him forget, instead, his memories clung to him like a shroud. Grief and regret still lingered in this place, in the town, in the castle where he currently sat, running his hands over the wooden table where the coven had once held meetings to destroy the humans.
Shelby, Scott, and Drift had gone off to visit Avid's grave, Pearl and Cleo had gone to town for some meat from the small town that had started to sprout there. Pyro was left alone in this large castle that seemed to amplify their loneliness.
The castle that they helped build, alongside Owen and the other fledgelings.
Honestly, Pyro was surprised to have survived this long.
Especially after he had refused Owen’s offer to stake Avid. Don't be mistaken, he wasn't the man's biggest fan, but it didn't mean that he wanted him dead.
So when Owen had suggested killing Avid, they shrugged it off as angry talk, that Owen would never do such a thing. That Owen, tightly wound as he was, would somehow find a better way to move forward.
He’d been such a fool.
After Avid, Owen seemed to get lost in the bloodlust, wrecking the doctor before approaching Abolish with the want to test the cure.
Everything went wrong from there.
“It’s time to go,” he thought. Pyro’s fingers curled against the wood, and he tapped out a simple rhythm before pushing away from the table. No use in sitting here. They walked out the front door, stopping momentarily to collect their thoughts. Truffle was killed here. He stared at the spot, remembering how Truffle's blood had seeped into the wood as Apo strode away, confident in her act of cruelty. Pyro continued out the door, blinking away the memories.
As they crossed the bridge, they were reminded of the early days of the coven, how distrust and manipulation had curled around them until it squeezed the life out of them. Everyone had changed since then, for the better.
Though, they weren’t sure that Scott could ever be truly forgiven. For the gaslighting and manipulating and the murder. For now, Pyro was content to let Scott finally feel regret and guilt over his mistakes. They didn't owe him anything.
Everyone was learning now, learning how to fit in with the humans, how to suppress the urges to hunt and kill, learning how to live with the fact that they cut lives short. Lives that should have been carried with far more grace and love.
The woods were more overgrown now, which was ironic since Abolish had burnt so much of it down. As he walked, Pyro could see new trees sprouting, and a soft blanket of moss covered whatever trees had survived the inferno. There were a few bits of charred ground that were untouched, and they carefully stepped around them. A small trace of a town's resistance, even after all these years.
It all looked so deceptively soft, like a forest from a fairytale, where the greatest woes were evil stepmothers.
Only few were left to remember the horrors that had transpired in these woods, in the small town that they could see in the distance. At the now defunct beacons that surrounded them on all sides.
Pyro turned away from the town. He wasn't looking for anything there at the moment.
Instead, he turned toward the lake, swiftly turning into his bat form and letting his wings carry him. Wind rushed past him, and he felt momentarily free from the sorrow that still blanketed Oakhurst. Even though the rush of the wind in his ears created a constant roar, his thoughts were mostly quiet.
Mostly.
They hadn’t even been around to see what had happened with Owen and Abolish. They had been sitting with Shelby and Scott in their grief, knowing that if they had just decided to speak up, Avid would be alive.
Another tragedy was in the making, and no one was any the wiser until it was too late.
When Owen had led Abolish up to the broken tower to test the cure, something went wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. From the state that the Apo had found Abolish in, it was clear that Owen didn’t leave this world peacefully.
Pyro couldn’t bring himself to look at the body. He never got the chance. Apo brought Abolish's lifeless body to the lake before digging him a grave near the tower. Though, he heard all this during the final town meeting, so he had to hope that Apo hadn’t lied.
In her words, Abolish had been torn to shreds. Not suspecting an attack from a vampire planning to take the cure, he hadn’t been able to defend himself in time. By the time he finally forced the cure onto Owen to protect himself, Abolish had lost an unforgiving amount of blood.
“Owen was the true liability,” they thought as they started to descend, spotting the lake where he and Pearl had first seen the man. The lake was peaceful now, a calm resting place for Abolish, who handled everything with a cool grace.
Spotting the dark grave markers, he turned back into his human form, landing on the grass with a slight stumble. Embarrassment flooded his face, even though there was no one to see it.
The dark stones formed a semi circle around a small mound of raised dirt, standing guard. Apo clearly hadn’t had time or the energy to dig him a proper grave. Though the lack of care may have once infuriated Pyro, they understood a bit better now. She was just trying to stay alive, and any extra time could have cost her dearly.
It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.
A shallow grave. A few stones with no sentiment. Nothing to remember Abolish by. As if he was another footnote in the conclusion of Oakhurst’s binding curse.
Abolish. The name rattled around in Pyro’s head as they approached, standing carefully near the semi circle.
“Hey there,” He started, feeling the words already getting caught in his throat. “I’m…” he trailed off as his eyes began to burn. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner.”
As a vampire, Pyro had rarely cried, and was disappointed to find out that the stuffy nose and rapid breathing that came with crying were still present. “Look at me, crying at the grave of someone I barely knew.” He thought, wiping his face.
“I heard what Owen did.” Their voice held no conviction, just a sad, quiet acceptance. “You tried to do the right thing. You tried to give him a choice.”
The wind picked up slightly, sending a few strands of ashy brown hair into Pyro’s eyes. He had let himself fall back into stage one. It felt more comfortable. He felt like he was just a scholar again, happy to talk to the mysterious stranger in town, happy to learn about Oakhurst and the legends that surrounded it.
“You know, you never did that interview with me.” They laughed, but it quickly melted back into quiet tears. Crying. He was crying. “What have you done to me Abolish?” The question fell flat in the air.
“Do you remember the time when I was planting those ridiculous flowers around the town and trying to be a spooky scary vampire?” They smiled slightly, settling down to sit cross-legged near the grave. “And you weren’t taking any of my bullshit? You didn’t attack me either. You repeatedly showed that there was always a chance for redemption.” The tears were coming faster now, blurring his vision, and Pyro was suddenly glad for the cloudy night. It wouldn’t hide him from any fellow vampires, but if townsfolk were out this far, he’d be hidden.
“I gave you a flower. It was a wither rose, something that probably would have burned your skin if not for your gloves. But you took it anyway.” The memory felt heavy in his mind, like a block of silver that burned away in his consciousness.
"We fought atop that cursed tower, and still, you didn't kill me. You offered mercy again and again." The words were thick with emotion and tears, spilling out like blood from a fatal wound.
“I suppose I just wish that I got to actually learn your favorite flower.” Once they said the words, every wishful thought just kept pouring out. “I wish I got to learn about your past. I wish I got to learn what makes you tick. I wish I got to learn about you.”
"I wish I had to the chance to love you, far away from Oakhurst."
The confession was heavy. Everything felt heavy. Their limbs felt like lead, eyelids weighing down like he was the one eternally sleeping. They paid it no mind.
The moment was cut by a buzz from his phone, startling him back to the present. A message from Shelby.
“Come back to the crypt!!! Avid’s awake!!”
Shock doused Pyro like a bucket of cold water. They wiped their nose, and staggered to their feet. It felt wrong to leave the grave after such a potent confession, but he couldn’t leave Shelby waiting. “I suppose that wouldn’t happen to you?” It was a hopeful question, nearly delusional in its nature. But what harm could it do to ask? "I'm just being silly," they thought, tucking away their phone after marking Shelby's message as read.
Raising a hand to their lips, they blew a slight kiss toward the gravestones. A quiet gesture of affection. They then jogged off into the woods, cursing their foolishness in using their bat form so quickly.
As Pyro ran into the woods, he missed the shifting of Earth at the grave before everything went still again. Waiting. Hiding in the shadows.
Hope and curses often held hands, bringing harm and life in equal measure.
And sometimes, they might just want to repeat themselves with an awful reminder of the past.
Hands broke the earth, desecrating the shallow grave.
Abolish Veylocke was alive again, eyes sharp, hungry, and filled with the ceaseless need to rip and tear.