Dorian's Destiny: Altered (24 page)

“Wow, that's quite a story and quite a
woman.” Father Murphy exclaimed.

“Indeed.” Dorian bragged, pleased with his
father's response to Megan.

“I have one question, though I'm sure I
already know the answer. Do you love, Megan?”

“I do.” Dorian answered with a broad
smile.

“Do you think Megan loves you?”

“Yes, she has to, to see the good that
remained hidden so deeply inside me.”

Father Murphy smiled,
gladdened by his son's happiness, but also saddened by the
realization his son's visit was most likely temporary. “Well, then
I suppose you will be wanting to return to your love
soon.”

Dorian cringed, seeing his
father's sadness even behind his perfect smile. He didn't want to
leave his father again but he wanted Megan more. “I do but there's
one more thing I would like to discuss with you.”

“Okay,” Father Murphy
responded nervously.

“I want to ask Megan to
marry me and I would like you to do the honors.”

Clapping his hands, Father
Murphy beamed. “It would be my honor. When do you plan on popping
the question?”

“As soon as possible.” Dorian stated
eagerly.

“Do you have a ring?” Father Murphy
inquired.

“No.” Dorian shook his
head. “I haven't even thought about one. How stupid of
me.”

“Don't beat yourself up too much.” Father
Murphy reassured, smiling. “I have a solution to your problem.”

“Really?” Dorian questioned with a raised
brow.

Without further explanation, Father Murphy
excused himself from the table. “I'll be right back.” He returned
with a small brass colored box embossed with cherubs. “Open it.” He
instructed, handing the box to Dorian.

Dorian opened the box.
Inside, tucked securely within a satiny pillow, was an antique
wedding ring set. He looked back at his father, mouth agape.
“Where...whose?” He stammered.

“They belonged to my
mother,” Father Murphy responded both proudly and sadly.

“May I?” Dorian asked
before removing the set from its soft bedding. Father Murphy
nodded. He carefully and gently removed the rings as if they were
made of glass instead of diamonds and gold. “They're beautiful.” He
admired the center ring with three clear rectangular diamonds set
elegantly within a delicately etched rose gold band. Two matching
bands etched similarly hugged each side of the center ring. He slid
the rings halfway up his left pinky.

“You might need to have
them re-sized, mother was petite,” Father Murphy
suggested.

“I doubt it. Megan is quite
petite as well. They should fit perfectly,” Dorian commented,
envisioning how the pink tint in the gold would complement Megan's
pale complexion. “But I can't accept them,” He stated as he gently
placed the rings back into their box and tried to hand it back to
his father.

“Nonsense, I insist,”
Father Murphy retorted, shaking his head. “Like I said, they
belonged to my mother, who would have been your grandmother. She
would have wanted you to have them, besides I have no use for
them.”

Dorian pulled his hand back and smiled.
“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, my son. I am glad to see
them put to good use. If only mother could too.” Father Murphy
smiled though tears threatened to fall.

“I'm curious why you never
mentioned your mother before,” Dorian admitted, hurt slightly he
hadn't been told of his 'grandmother sooner.

“Well, if you can spare a few more minutes
away from Megan, I'll tell you.”

Glancing at his watch,
Dorian replied. “I can manage. Beside I would love to know about
the owner of these rings and I’m sure my future bride would
to.”

“Alright then, I'll try to
make it quick. I'm as anxious to meet my future daughter-in-law as
you are to return to her,” Father Murphy winked, then sighed.
Speaking of his childhood and mother, even after so many years, was
difficult. “My childhood was quite different from yours. Unlike
you, I had every luxury imaginable, anything and everything a
spoiled child could want. However, as I got older, around
seventeen, I felt a void that could not be filled with material
possessions, or even my mother's love and affections. I guess
that's when I began to perceive my calling to serve God. By
eighteen, I knew my purpose. My father unfortunately did not. He
was not a believer like myself and mother. When I made the
announcement that I intended on becoming a priest, my father was
furious. So much so, he disowned me on the spot and forbade my
mother from contacting or visiting me. For a long time after, I
hated my father, but later I understood how he must have felt; to
him I chose someone who didn't even exist over him. Of course, my
mother didn't listen, and throughout the years, sent me countless
letters. I unfortunately couldn't respond. She knew she left me in
capable hands. A few years before you came to me, my mother fell
ill and when she knew her time was near, she sent me her final
letter and a few of her most precious belongings, including those
rings. I kept them because they belonged to her, but I never
expected to need them. Maybe she did. She was quite an exceptional
woman, like your Megan. She would have been so proud to have had a
grandson.”

Dorian understood his
father's reason for not speaking of his mother before. The pain he
had endured from his father's shunning and his mother's forced
absence had clearly taken its toll. “I'm so sorry for all the pain
you've endured.” He apologized and wrapped his arms around his
father. “You are a far greater man than me, but I promise from this
point on to live my life as you would.”

Father Murphy returned the gesture,
thankfully for Dorian's kind words and affection. “Dorian, I am not
greater than you. I have just always placed my faith in one who is.
Nor do you need to live your life like me,” he corrected. “Live
your own life, my son. You need only keep God as your guide. Now
go, woo your bride. I'll be here eagerly waiting.”

Both men held onto each
other tightly, reluctant to let go. Finally, he pushed his son
gently away, “Goodbye, my son.”

“Goodbye, Father.”

He sighed, watching his son vanish out the
church doors. Thankfully, this parting was much easier than the
last.

Standing beneath the oak, Dorian watched
Megan's shadow darken her living room window for the countless
time. He knew the cause of her pacing was his tardiness, yet he
remained motionless, deep in thought about how to ask for her hand.
His proposal needed to be perfect and he wasn't quite there. In
fact, his proposal was far from perfect, it was nonexistent. He had
thought of nothing else since saying goodbye to his father, but
hadn't come up with a single idea good enough. Worst case scenario
would be just asking 'Will you marry me?' on bended knee. He wanted
something special though; something unique to their relationship.
The park bench would have been a good idea, but he ruined that,
marring that once special place with his stupid no show.

Then an idea hit him. He
stood in the perfect location. This tree was meaningful but if he
used this spot, he would have to wait until morning. In the
meantime, he needed to be sure she would have him. The only way he
knew to do that was to be honest. Taking a deep breath, he raced up
to her door. By the time he gently rapped on her door, his heart
pounded from the giant leap he was about to make.

The door flew open seconds
before two arms wrapped around his neck and a swarm of kisses
assaulted his cheeks. After issuing her warm welcome, she pulled
away, a cross look on her face. “What took you so long?”

“I'm sorry.” He felt even guiltier for his
extended absence after hearing the worry in her voice. “I didn't
intend on being gone as long. I timed my arrival poorly, and my
father and I had a great deal to discuss.”

“Of course, I understand. I
was just worried.” She softened her face. “Did you have a nice
trip? Is everything good with your father now?”

“Yes to both.” he smiled. “I look forward to
telling you all about my reunion but,” his smile faded, “first
there's another matter I'd like to discuss.”

“Okay,” she muttered, nervous about his
sudden seriousness.

“Let's sit down.” When they were both seated
on their respective ends of the couch, he cleared his throat. He
was terrified about how this conversation might go. He knew she
didn't consider him a monster, but he wanted to come clean about
every transgression he had committed and that might change her
mind. “I have a few more confessions that I need to make.”

She raised her hand to halt him. “Dorian, if
this is more about you being a vampire, you know none of it bothers
me. I care for you because of who you are not what you are.”

“I know,” he reassured, taking her raised
hand, placing it gently in her lap, and laying his own on top of
hers. “I care for you as well and that is why I want to be
completely honest with you. I don't want there to be any secrets
between the two of us. I've told you little about my existence
since being turned, beyond the general blank statement about seeing
and even doing some horrible things. In order for me to fully let
go of my past and forgive myself, I need to be sure you can still
care for me after knowing all the gruesome details.”

Thinking they were past this point in their
relationship, she sighed. “Dorian, you don't have to tell me. It
doesn't matter, and it's not going to change how I feel about
you.”

“But I do, Megan. Please
allow me to do this. I want you to be my future but I have to be
sure you can live with my past,” he insisted, caressing the back of
her hand before removing his.

“Okay.”

He continued to face her,
instead of turning away from her innocent gaze like he wanted. He
needed to gauge her reaction to hopefully ease his still guilty
conscious. “I'll start with my first kill, a rabbit. I don't blame
myself for that one, though. That life was taken purely on
instinct. Unable to fathom what I had done, I locked myself away
and begged God for a cure. When He ignored my pleas, I decided my
only option was to end my life. After a brutal suicide attempt that
no human could survive, I lashed out at God for not only refusing
to cure me, but not allowing me to end my cursed existence. I
promised Him I would be a monster. I killed countless animals, not
just for survival, but hoping each one would be a slap in God's
Face. After a while though, that didn't seem to be enough. I
stopped killing and did something far worse. I only injured my
prey, happy to share my suffering. I mutilated and maimed
everything around me out of spite. I turned a once beautiful forest
into my own version of hell. I would probably still be there
wreaking havoc, disgracing God if I had not been abducted by
Thomas.”

She remained motionless
during his confession, returning his intense stare. Some of his
words disturbed her; she couldn't deny that. However, she couldn't
imagine the man in front of her killing and mutilating animals for
spite. For that reason, she let any disgust she left dissolve away.
“Although it saddens me that you tortured and killed animals, I am
more saddened by how much pain and suffering you must have been in
to do such horrible things.”

He sighed, both annoyed and grateful for her
uncanny ability to reasonably justify his transgressions. Would her
gift hold water against all of them, though? He was about to find
out. “I'll admit it pleases me that confessing my brutality against
God's four legged creations hasn't caused you to think less of me.
I feared it might, especially given your buddy asleep in your
lap.”

She looked down at her
purring cat. She hadn't even noticed his arrival, but she absently
caressed him nonetheless. Looking back, she declared. “No, it
doesn't. Like I already said, my feelings for you will not change
no matter what terrible misdeeds from your past you decide to
confide in me. I also doubt you would have spent all of your
existence wreaking havoc as you say. You would have found your way
back to who you used to be.”

“I'm not sure I would have without you.”

She blushed. “Well, it pleases me to have
been of assistance,” she grinned playfully, copying his early
statement.

He mirrored her grin
temporarily; soon replacing it with a pursed lip as he prepared to
finish his confession. “I was content in Thomas' mansion. I had
every luxury imaginable, companionship, and an endless supply of
animal blood. Until he tempted me with human blood and I caved.
From that point on, I witnessed numerous murders and stood by doing
nothing but waiting for my share of blood. The first of them was a
bum. Although Thomas said the drunk was better off dead, I feel the
most guilt for his death. You see, I was the one who picked him to
be my first taste,” he nearly choked on the word, shame strangling
him. He shut his eyes briefly, and then continued, “of fresh human
blood. If not for me, he might still be alive. Another was the
owner of a shooting range. Thomas literally ripped him apart. At
one point, I actually held his heart in my hand. Last were two
victims at a tattoo parlor. The man got off lucky, since Thomas
broke his neck. I drained him while Thomas tortured the woman. He
ripped 35 piercings from her body before ending her life.
Then...”

She tried not to cringe as
he told the details of his horror story, but being a nurse sworn to
do no harm made it near impossible. Finally, she had heard enough.
“Dorian, stop!” She commanded. “Are you trying to push me away
again?” She asked; her eyes full of tears.