I tried to inject a little bit of humour into this chapter, as the last one was a bit heavy. It's hard to write 'funny' without going overboard. The perspective jumps quite a bit, for which I apologise, but it's necessary for the story to develop. I'm not entirely sure where the story is going because I like to write as I think rather than plan, so it might seem a bit disjointed.
***
Time flashed past and before any of them new it; the baby boy had grown into a man. On the dawn of his eighteenth birthday, he was awoken by clattering noises from downstairs. He rose sleepily from bed and shrugged on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt that stretched over his wide shoulders. His bedroom was still dark, the curtains blocking out the majority of the early morning sun. The gloom didn't impede his movements as he walked to the curtains and pulled them wide, letting the blinding rays fall into the cramped space.
The light came to rest on a typical teenager's room. It was messy with clothes strewn over the floor. A small pile of dusty schoolbooks was laid against a wall and next to those a vast array of CDs and DVDs stood on racks piled to the ceiling. The carpet was a clean navy blue and it was warm under his bare feet. Posters of his favourite musicians and films were dotted around the yellow walls in a seemingly random pattern.
He padded softly into the corridor outside of his room and scratched at the stubble on his cheeks. He slowly made his way downstairs, hearing the hushed voices get close and closer. As he neared the kitchen, he stepped on a squeaky board and suddenly the voices were silent. He continued to trot towards the closed kitchen door and as he turned the handle, he readied himself to pounce on any intruders.
"SURPRISE!" cheered the small crowd gathered around a large chocolate cake with eighteen lit candles sticking out of it. "Happy Birthday Owen!" His mother swooped down on him and began showering him with kisses that bruised his cheeks. Through the haze of maternal embarrassment, he could see his father shaking his head and laughing. They said it was his birthday when in fact it was just the anniversary of being brought home by his Dad, but no one else knew that.
"Come on Elaine, you're strangling the poor boy. Let him come up for air." He said as he attempted to pry the mother away. His salt and pepper hair was thinning and he had wrinkles around his eyes, but the lines on his face were formed from laughter rather than tears. "I think he knows you love him."
Elaine had tears in her eyes as she pulled away. Her little boy was all grown up and he was going to leave for university the next day. This was one of her last opportunities to tell him she how loved him before he was hundreds of miles away studying in the seaside city of Plymouth. As wonderful as it was to see him moving into the world of adulthood, it was still painful for his mother to let him go. Her inability to have children had made his arrival all the more special and Elaine's catholic upbringing told her that he was a gift from God.
In truth, he was just the opposite.
***
In a dark chamber deep beneath Vatican City, an ancient werewolf was meditating. He was desperately trying to foresee the next great evil before the other two had visions of their own. It was a secret competition they had and Caesar was beginning to trail behind. The golem was so old and powerful that he had snatches of possible futures lining up to wish him good morning, and the vampire was so deeply immersed in shady dealings of his own that he was more attuned to the darkness than either of his colleagues.
Just as Caesar was about to call it and go to sleep, he felt it. A tingling that started at his temples and then intensified until it was burning his retinas. He blinked slowly and the clouded-grey eyes were replaced by orbs of shining white. The voice of the Creator flowed into his mind and shaped his thoughts into images that flickered like old film.
An old man stood in a doorway with tears in his eyes. A lonesome road curled between the hedgerows of a country lane. A girl screamed in violent fury. A knight in black-plated armour rode a steed of boiling shadows. A fire grew and grew till the smoke blotted out the sun. A giant wave rose from the sea and engulfed a city. The earth was cracked by a light from the sky.
The light faded from Caesar's eyes and despite his horror at the flashes he had witnessed he felt a moment of triumph. There came a thumping at the door, but he was sure that nothing could ruin his mood.
"Enter." He called out to the noisy intruder.
"Lord Caesar" an acolyte burst into the room and began to breathe deeply as though he had run a marathon. "Lord Oberoth has just received a vision of the future! He says he has information regarding the new threat!"
Typical.
***
Owen's birthday was going off without a hitch. The guests laughed and sang at all the correct moments, the gifts were thoughtful and the cake was delicious. But there was something nagging at the back of his mind. He had a feeling that someone else should be present at his eighteenth birthday. He had often wondered who his real parents were. Had they died in the explosion he had miraculously survived? Had they abandoned him? Were they, even now, searching for him? His adoptive father held no answers for him as his efforts to locate them had been fruitless.
He could not remember their faces but that was unsurprising, as he had only just been born when the Police Chief found him. Sometimes he dreamt of voices and faces that seemed muffled by shadows, but these dreams were just as unhelpful.
At 6pm, the guests began to leave. The house felt strangely empty without his friends making loud noises, he could finally hear his own thoughts but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to. His father clapped him on the back, looked him in the eye, and in that brief glance he seemed to see the confusion his son felt.
"It's okay to miss them Owen. Even if you never knew them, you won't ever forget them." He said in an understanding tone of voice.
The problem was that Owen didn't want to be understood. He wanted his Dad to shout, to tell him that he should forget about his biological parents and move on. That he had a loving family and that was all that mattered even if they weren't technically related. But the Police Chief was too kind to say such things; he knew that Owen would have to come to terms with his real parents on his own.
"I know it's stupid Dad, but I miss them at times like this. I don't even know what they looked like but I miss them." Owen had his head in his hands.
"It's not stupid Owen. Just don't forget to stay in the present instead of worrying about the past." His Dad smiled a toothy grin and mussed his black hair out of shape. No son was too old to be irritated by his Dad. "Right, your mother and I are going out for dinner. You should pack before we get back so that she doesn't have a chance to persuade you not to go to uni."
"Okay Dad. See you later and don't be back too late. Wear your seatbelt and check both ways before crossing the road." He hugged him and tramped upstairs to find his clothes.
