[h3]Aleksandr | Father Seraphim[/h3]

"No! No! No!" She was screaming hauntingly under her breaths like she was in some sick, masochistic pornography, and he couldn't stop himself.  No, not while she was this vulnerable.  The fire in his eyes was watching the way her body moved in coordination with his own, large frame.  It was exhilarating.  She was like a tiny, frail doll, and she was all his.  She was his toy, and he wasn't about to share her.  No, never--he was mad with jealousy; a jealousy he couldn't control. And she... well, she was perfect.

Her moans increased the more he came onto her.  He could feel her so well.  Her skin was porcelain, and she was like a flower, soft and gentle. Touching her brought a thousand senses he had left forgotten back to life.  He sank his teeth deep into her neck, and suddenly, her shrieks became defeaningly serene and slowly came to an unbearable quietness.  The senses quickly faded from him, and the black of his eyes shrank.  Dark blood was seeping from his jaws. Clenching his teeth, he drew in a deep breath. His muscular chest moved with each gasp. He looked around, feeling the thrill wash over him and gradually deviate into the nothingness of her quiet demeanor.  A low growl unrested from his cage of a mouth as his eyes looked down at the decapitated corpse in front of him. He hovered over her, about to give her one more play, but a piercing, sharp pain tore through his thick coat. A small, startled yelp spilled out more blood through his baring teeth.

The monstrous wolf closed his jaws tightly and cowardly scampered into the shadows of the midnight sky. 

Another shot bled through the coldness of the night. 

As he his large paws hit the misty grass, blood trickled after him.  His strides became slower and shorter.  The confusion of the situation began to overwhelm him.  As he peered down at his paws, he noticed human flesh.  When he looked back up, two female figures were standing in front of him with their loaded guns aimed directly at him. How? He thought he had run the opposite direction of the shot fired.  Both guns shot through the air--

Aleksandr sprung out of his bedsheets.  His eyes were wide open.  Another nightmare. His fists were at his side, shaking.  Quivering, he brought his hands to his pale face, covering his mouth.  He could almost taste the blood from his dream.  Small, quick breaths battled through him as he grasped that he had [I]only[/I] been dreaming.  [I]It was only a dream, Aleksy, right? Just a dream...[/I]  He carefully pushed himself from the bed. One hand ran through his wavy-curled hair.  The other fell to his side.

He kept having this reoccurring nightmare.  Normally, he could handle nightmares. Nightmares were his reality, but ever since his father and he moved, he had been dreaming about being attacked.  He shook his head and tensely walked out of his bedroom.  He made a small turn around the corner hallway and found himself in the eating area of the house.

"You're shirtless, Aleksy," Father Seraphim said cheerfully, a bit confused by his son's immodesty.

Aleksandr paused his walking and looked down, realizing his chest was exposed, "I..." He looked back at his father, "I must have--" he stuttered, not quite sure why he went to sleep without a shirt. He turned around, "I'll go get one."

Father Seraphim smiled until his son turned the corner.  A grim face rested on his aged face.  He was holding the newspaper open, reading the latest gossip: On August 18th, 2016, a woman and her daughter were murdered after walking home from the grocery store. No suspect has been found or charged.  However, due to the details of the murder, the city and homicide squad are taking extra precautions.

When Aleksandr re-entered the room, Father Seraphim began to speak, "Aleksy, there has been a ghastly murder in the city.  No suspect has been found.  We need to be careful.  I don't want one of us getting hurt," his voice was low and graceful.  Of course, the topic was not really what Aleksandr wanted to hear, but his father's soothing voice made him more patient with the priest.

"That sounds kind of scary," he looked down, unable to make eye contact with his father, "It's like the murders are following us."

They both lived in a silent moment, pondering the nothingness beyond the life they had left behind, "Yes," Father Seraphim finally spoke, "Anyways, not to bring you down before your first day of college," there was some glimmer of hope in his eye as he tried to reconnect with his beloved son.

"University.  It's a University, not a college," Aleksandr made a small smile.  His snide remark was slight punishment for his father's negative topic.  But, really, when all he had was his father--how could be mad? "Anyways, I better get going."

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

"No, I don't want to be late," Aleksandr lied.  He really wanted to get away from the slowly growing tension.

"The keys are by the door!"

"I know," he turned to go to his room and prepare himself for the day before leaving for his first day of [I]University[/I].