A Page From Yaruka's Journal
It's already December. The cold is setting in quickly. I worry for Amadeo. Since the incident with the witch girl, he has never been the same. He's shut himself in his room, rarely coming out save for when it's a necesity or when he wishes. His mannerisms have been troubling, as well. He's been overly moody and I've recently noticed his resistance to the urge of feeding from live subjects has been weakening. I walked in on him having a saiance in his room. He was talking to someone, but I couldn't place who........but the voice I heard was dark and evil.....and familiar, somehow. Still, all of this dark behavior hasn't dampened his love for Pandora, thank the Gods. I think that she is the one thing keeping him from insanity.
My poor son. I wish he'd talk to me, but every time I bring up the subject, he gets extremely defensive. I know he's fifteen and all, but still.......he used to be so open. How could one year change him so much? As if I have room to ask that, considering the changes I've undergone in mere months beforehand. I'm so very worried. So is Pandora. She's told me that Amadeo sometimes scares her when his voice changes. I tried telling her that it was part of growing up, but she said that it wasn't anything like I described. Aparrantly, his voice sometimes becomes overshadowed by another voice.....a menacing one. I've begun to notice it, as well. What's happening to my son? Yaruka had been in the kitchen, preparing her family their dinners. She had been humming to herself, making each individual dish with the utmost care. She had been so caught up in her cooking that she failed to hear her youngest, Jorend, toddle his way into the kitchen. She might have continued her work without knowing he was there had he not tugged gently at her skirt.
"Hmm?" She looked up from her counter and looked down to see her little son's bright red eyes looking up at her, "Oh, Jorend. What is it, sweetie?"
"Mama, 'ookit." The little boy helt out a piece of rather worn parchment to her, "Pwetty picture."
"Really? And what has my little artist made for me?" Yaruka smiled and took the paper from Jorend. Her face fell as soon as her eyes took in what was inscribed upon it. She turned serious and knelt down to her son, "Jorend, did you draw this?"
"Nuh-uh. Me find." Said the innocent child, blissfully unaware of the terror that Yaruka was beginning to feel.
"Where did you find this?" She asked him, trying her best not to make him scared.
"Am'deo." Jorend stated as he pointed down the hall to Amadeo's room, "More, too." He smiled back at his mother, but frowned when he saw her face flushed of color, her eyes wide. He pouted and spoke timidly, "Mama not like?"
"No, sweetie, it's.......alright." Yaruka smiled to try and ease the little one's mind. She stood up , staring at the parchment in her hand, "Stay here, Jorend. Mommy has something she has to do." Folding the parchment carefully, she turned and left a confused little Jorend in the kitchen.
Yaruka made her way swiftly, but quietly, to her son's bedroom. She was cautious, not wanting to arouse him. He had been quite the shut-in for some time that she was never sure when he was actually in his room. However, upon carefully opening the door, she was glad to discover that he had stepped out momentarily. Upon stepping in, she saw that his room was strewn with more parchments much like the one that Jorend had given her. This only increased her worry.....and for good reason.
Scouring the parchments, she was intent on looking for something significant. Something to tell her that what she was thinking wasn't true. She could not have been more wrong. Yaruka had managed to clear an area free of the papers and found below them a sacred circle drawn in blood upon the floor. She recognized the scent as Amadeos own blood. Her fears were coming more into view piece by piece. She quickly gathered up pieces of parchment that seemed to go together, making some sort of incantation. The words and inscriptions were all written in blood and in a language that no one but Yaruka could have understood.
"Dear Gods.......it can't be." She whispered aloud under bated breath. It all began to make sense; Amadeo's moodiness, his sudden shut-in habits, the saiances, and the menacing voice that seemed to overshadow him every so often........all of it added up to exactly what Yaruka had hoped would not come to pass. Anger began to breathe fire in her heart, her eyes glowing in the darkness with unadulterated rage.
He will pay for this,Echoed the thoughts of Yaruka's mind,
No one uses my son............EVER! Rising to her feet, she made her way out of Amadeo's room...........for now.
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