Bill had cancelled everything that he had to do this evening, it had now become a habit of his. Lacking in his duties as King of Louisiana, he had already had word that had reached him that had been gossiped around the Sheriff's that he appointed after the whole incident with Marnie, having to allocate new Sheriff's that he had trusted over the years. Although at that time, he had been glad that he had kept on Eric Northman as one of his Sheriff's, but with recent events that had escalated he wished that he had granted Northman the true death when he had been under the influence of some kind of memory spell.
He felt that he could trust no one, he could not trust himself. He had began doubting himself as a man, as King and as a Vampire. His mind had been in turmoil these last few weeks. He had never felt such a way before, and it shook him, scared him to a solemn point. He had wished to seek solace alone, finding the welcome of the dark and silence a way of tranquil to free his thoughts from his dark mind. His skin prickled, a storm was brewing in the distance, he could feel it spike through his body. Although the air was calm and warm, no clear signs of a physical storm approaching the small town of Bon Temps, but he could feel something arising, and he was not prepared. How could he prepare for something that he could not see?, nor touch?, nor act upon to ensure his own survival?
The warm gentle breeze brushed over his cool skin, sinking through his sleeves that shielded him from the elements. He could hear everything, the crickets in the long dry grass that enclosed the small graveyard that stood between his own home and that of Sookie Stackhouse. He had debated with himself whether or not to go and visit her, but he was not in a position to visit the wife of Northman. He would not risk another possibility of fist throwing match just to claim to be the superior. He would wait for another night. As he remained on his estate grounds, closely monitored by the guards that surveyed the grounds, ready to act upon at his single command.
He welcomed the silence of being alone, he had heard the screeching of a car approach his home as he remained in the dark, not wishing to be disturbed. He just wished to be alone with his own personal thoughts. He had left Kiara in the safe hands of his guards, who he had instructed not to leave her side at all costs. He had excused himself from Kiara's side, he could not get the images of Kiara and that Tiger out of his mind, images burning through his mind, like acid poured on his eyes, burning in their sockets. He could not get every single image out, like they had transpired together to torment him on every level possible.
He approached closer to his home, catching the sound of two raised voices that he recognized instantly - his progeny Jessica and Kiara.
"I don't know how I'm not ripping your heart out and shoving it down your throat. How could you do that to me....to BILL! How? Why?"
"What can I say? Once a whore ALWAYS a whore right?"
"...You're engaged to my maker and I'm not the only one getting hurt in this"
"No Jessica...I never cared. I'm incapable of caring for anyone but myself....Were you jealous though? To know that even when you hold his heart...you will never ignite his passion like me?"
Bill did not want to hear anymore of their conversation, his hand trailed across his skin where his beating heart would have been, except now...it was a dull ache. Something tearing into his chest that he had never felt before, something that went beyond betrayal, deeper than hurt, more powerful that anger....But hatred, hatred for everything around him, for everything that he had touched. He was no longer William Compton, loving husband, father of two, solider of war. He was...Bill Compton the King of Louisiana.
He felt that he could trust no one, he could not trust himself. He had began doubting himself as a man, as King and as a Vampire. His mind had been in turmoil these last few weeks. He had never felt such a way before, and it shook him, scared him to a solemn point. He had wished to seek solace alone, finding the welcome of the dark and silence a way of tranquil to free his thoughts from his dark mind. His skin prickled, a storm was brewing in the distance, he could feel it spike through his body. Although the air was calm and warm, no clear signs of a physical storm approaching the small town of Bon Temps, but he could feel something arising, and he was not prepared. How could he prepare for something that he could not see?, nor touch?, nor act upon to ensure his own survival?
The warm gentle breeze brushed over his cool skin, sinking through his sleeves that shielded him from the elements. He could hear everything, the crickets in the long dry grass that enclosed the small graveyard that stood between his own home and that of Sookie Stackhouse. He had debated with himself whether or not to go and visit her, but he was not in a position to visit the wife of Northman. He would not risk another possibility of fist throwing match just to claim to be the superior. He would wait for another night. As he remained on his estate grounds, closely monitored by the guards that surveyed the grounds, ready to act upon at his single command.
He welcomed the silence of being alone, he had heard the screeching of a car approach his home as he remained in the dark, not wishing to be disturbed. He just wished to be alone with his own personal thoughts. He had left Kiara in the safe hands of his guards, who he had instructed not to leave her side at all costs. He had excused himself from Kiara's side, he could not get the images of Kiara and that Tiger out of his mind, images burning through his mind, like acid poured on his eyes, burning in their sockets. He could not get every single image out, like they had transpired together to torment him on every level possible.
He approached closer to his home, catching the sound of two raised voices that he recognized instantly - his progeny Jessica and Kiara.
"I don't know how I'm not ripping your heart out and shoving it down your throat. How could you do that to me....to BILL! How? Why?"
"What can I say? Once a whore ALWAYS a whore right?"
"...You're engaged to my maker and I'm not the only one getting hurt in this"
"No Jessica...I never cared. I'm incapable of caring for anyone but myself....Were you jealous though? To know that even when you hold his heart...you will never ignite his passion like me?"
Bill did not want to hear anymore of their conversation, his hand trailed across his skin where his beating heart would have been, except now...it was a dull ache. Something tearing into his chest that he had never felt before, something that went beyond betrayal, deeper than hurt, more powerful that anger....But hatred, hatred for everything around him, for everything that he had touched. He was no longer William Compton, loving husband, father of two, solider of war. He was...Bill Compton the King of Louisiana.
