Author's Note

Trigger warning Homophobia, and murder, its not a nice chapter you've been warned

Return of Liesmith

Blueblood smacked his lips as he walked closer to the house. How long had it been since he saw his son? For most people, it was too long, but For Anderson, it wasn’t long enough. He couldn’t stand the bastard.

“So, are you ready to help me?” The voice said while Blueblood looked off. His heart pounded, disgusted that he was even going to do this.

“As you wish, M r. Liesmith.” A long pause as he stood in front of the door. He honestly didn’t even want to knock on this door. He didn’t want to be in this town or even at this particular address. Blueblood was filled with anger and wanted to run away. But he didn’t want to disappoint God. He needed to try and do what would please Liesmith. Blueblood could hear a loud ringing in his ear, more audible by the second as he tried ignoring it. His heart was pounding as he listened to the door click open.

Blueblood saw a young man opening the door wearing a rainbow shirt; its blasphemy s he looked over seeing the feminine young man with short hair.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” The man said-- The young man, whom Blueblood would’ve called a queer or even a faggot. The way he looked at them with those disgusting eyes made Blueblood sick.

“I wanted to visit you,” Blueblood paused as he tried to find the right words. But looking at his bastard son, he felt an urge to puke at his abomination. “and apologize….” He felt Liesmith tell him those words while watching over the young man, the way he paraded around.

“Oh, Um, thanks.” His son spoke, not sure what to say, his eyes flicking around.

“Is there a way I could come in?” Blueblood said while watching over him.

“I guess, but probably not for long. My Boyfriend will be coming back. Why are you here? Besides Apologizing,” His son crossed his arm, suspicious about what Blueblood was around for a while. Blueblood felt himself sweating hard as he tried to come up with something. It was one thing about planning this out but doing it talking to this fairy boy.

“Well, I realized I was wrong, and I want to reconcile with you. I was a fuck up. I’m sorry, Redblood” Blueblood tried to sound sincere, but some of him wished he could puke.

“Well, I…” While holding the door, his son found he couldn’t understand the right words. While barely looking at Blueblood in the eyes. They walked inside together. A long silence as the door closed behind them.

Redblood watched his father close the door behind him. Not I was even noticing that he closed the blin that the door was locked.

“Do you need a drunk, Dad? I mean, I’m sure we have a lot to talk about; at least see how the years have changed.” Redblood muttered while heading to the kitchen. Blueblood looked disgusted, seeing how the walls were lined, the rainbow flag hanging on the wall, and the picture of this boy with some other man wearing suits. Even the corner a little dog, something that made him disgusted more. He never raised this kid to be like this.

Blueblood blamed his mother for being too kind, too patient with the bit of Faggot; Blueblood wished he could’ve beaten the little bitch into submission; maybe he could have gone on and become the man he was supposed to be. How disgusting; if anything, he wished that there was something Blueblood could have done to fix his boy. Yet, some of him reminded himself that this demon had taken his boy. That was what Blueblood told himself.

Now do it, grab something, knock him out, and grab a knife. I don’t care, do something so that I can take his body! Liesmith’s voice grew louder. Blueblood turned around to see a giant statue; he didn’t take the time to look at it; he reached over, gripping it tightly. Blueblood ran behind Redblood as he slammed it down into his skull repeatedly. A sickening crunch as he continued bashing in the boy’s brains in.

Redblood didn’t have time to respond, falling to the ground feeling all that pain, feeling every second of it as he tried crawling away and trying to run away from this fight. But was pulled back. But the worst part for Redblood had been when Blueblood, his father, turned him around and looked into his face. That deranged hateful face as he spewed out.

“Dad, why…”

Blueblood looks at his son bloody and on the cuffs of death, he smiled simply saying,

“Genesis 22:2”

Redblood’s vision slowly went dark as he thought for a moment he saw a woman next to his father, a busty woman with glasses on the side looking almost sad. Then he saw nothing.

-000-

Spike’s head shot up without warning, his heart pounding as he looked around. It was dark around his room as he gasped for air. He turned around, looking to see Luna lying there, naked under the bed sheet while looking to be in a deep slumber. The way the blanket wrapped around her was something.

“What the hell was that?” Spike said while pulling himself out of bed and walking out. He was still naked, but that didn’t matter to him. Spike just needed to get out of the room for a minute. The house was silent as he walked towards the kitchen, heading towards the fridge where he looked inside.

“Great just juice; I could use a beer right now,” After the dream he just had, he could have used one. “it’ll do for now.” He poured himself a glass as he turned the television on—the room filled with the television light while sitting there. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder what the dream was about. His head ached while he tried remembering everything about it. Yet all he could remember was that it was a son being murdered by his father.

“What the heck was it, the father said, Genesis 22:2? What does that even mean?” He was tempted to google it up. Yet shook his head.

“Probably just a dream. That’s all-- just a bad dream.” Yet, at the same time, Spike found that it felt almost too real, like it was happening to him. Spike wasn’t sure why? He turned the channel while trying to find something to write, yet at the same time, the thoughts were bugging him. What was so important about it?

Then there was the fact he saw that woman, that woman with glasses and wearing dark clothes. Who was she? What did she have to do with the story? That was when Spike got up and headed straight towards his writing room. Spike went to boot his computer. The Scrivener program opened as he began typing out.

Chapter one:

Michael Cormac, wasn’t sure what to say when he saw the mysterious woman in black. There was something off about her. It was like she had a glow to her, that didn’t seem human. She was shaped human. Yet something about her disturbed Michael. Yet Michael found himself walking towards her with a smile. Like some strange and mysterious force was calling him over to her.

Spike found himself writing for an hour, resulting in ten pages. Yet they were good, a clean first draft, even if he was going to need to edit it down some. His hero was obviously Michael Cormac, and he was hunting for someone, which lead him to the town of Hopeville, and the mysterious woman who was still nameless had something to do with the disappearances of the other girls, what she did Spike didn’t know.

He groaned trying to think what this story would turn into, but for now, he would have to return to it later. Looking at the close and realizing it was around four in the morning and decided to head back to bed.

His headache seemingly gone, he figured it would be for the best that he got back to sleep. Walking back to the room, Spike realized the television was on; as he moved over, looking back into the room, it was there. He noticed Celestia sitting on the couch and staring at the television with such intensity. What she was watching. She seemed to be watching what looked like an old Elvis movie. The way she watched him drooling at the sight of the king moving his hips. The way she watched it, her breath getting heavy by the second. Spike almost wondered what she was doing.

Spike wasn’t sure what to even say while watching her more; then he realized something her wings were popping out. Tiny white feather wings the kind you imagine an angel would have from the pictures as they expanded wider.

The way they shot out into the air. Spike almost jumped out of the way as Celestia screamed, “You gotta hunka burning to love me, king!” It was there a sudden heavenly glow filled the room. Spike’s tv suddenly shot up into a first turning to static as it went off. Spike hid under the table for a second.

Everything eventually dimmed down as Spike got back up. He looked back for a minute as he groaned. Rubbing his head,

“What are you doing?” Celestia said realizing Spike had caught him,

“Hey I live here, I think I have the right to be in my own living room. You’re the one doing well that.” Spike waved his hands and swung them around lightly indicating the whole light show she let off.

“Well If I knew you were going to… I wouldn’t I… Just leave, go off.” Celestia was turning bright red, Spike couldn’t help but imagine she looked more, and more like a tomato. Celestia turned away running out of the room, while Spike found himself by what had just happened.

Spike decided it would be for the best to just head back to bed. Forget any of this had happened. It had been a long night as he started heading back to bed. Yet Spike could feel a sense of dread shadowing over him like, his life was about to change for the worst. How so? Spike wasn’t really sure.

-000-

The room was dismal, the walls lined with symbols so old most would be imagined It looked like chicken scratch, Blueblood wasn’t even sure what he was drawing but Liesmith kept telling him how to draw it making sure he got everything done correctly. He looked back seeing the body of the bastard he once called his son laying there. Blueblood found himself looking over to the other corner where another body lay.

“Fucking fag.” He spat out as he remembered how the other fairy boy had come in and he had to take care of them. Liesmith didn’t have to tell him twice to take care of them, the fact he needed to protect his ass to finish the ritual and bring God back to life was all that mattered to him.

Good, now bring the body into the center, spread him out for me. Do this, and I’ll tell you what to say. We’re so close. Liesmith spoke out, louder. The way the god’s voice spoke to Blueblood was exhilarating, like driving down the highway going over a thousand miles an hour. His heart was racing beyond reason.

“As you wish sir.” He said while turning around and began dragging the body over. Ignoring how the blood spread across the room. Blueblood smiled with joy as he began laying the boy’s body spreading his arms out wide and legs spreading as far as they could. Blueblood’s boy was still as a board.

Now grab the virgin blood, and write down a few more symbols. Liesmith said while sounding giddier by the second. Blueblood nodded while running back to his bag. Reaching into it he pulled out a jar with what looked like dark red liquid. Yet if you looked closer you might realize that it was in fact blood.

“Thank you for your contribution girl, your sacrifice to God will not be in vain.” Blueblood Chuckled ready to complete the ritual. He was about to head back into the room when he heard the door knock. “Fuck!” Blueblood groaned clearly more frustrated by the fact someone dared to interrupt his one chance.

He couldn’t ignore it though otherwise who knows what could happen. Someone calls the cops?

“Just relax it’ll be alright.”

Blueblood walked over towards the door ready to open it, though as he got there. The knocking had stopped His heart nearly stopped at that. He stood there. The tension building as he waited to see if anything else might happen. Blueblood sighed in relief realizing whoever was there might have left. Turning back he began going back to his business.

Blueblood walked back into the room, he took a deep breath ready for the ritual to begin. His hand dipping into the jar of blood. Blueblood followed the instructions with such detail making sure not to get a single thing Liesmith had told him wrong, He feared what might happen if he messed this up. Sliding the blood against the corpse of his sons body; determination to get this right. Licking his lips he barely bothered paying attention. While he heard the strange words coming from God. As he continued focusing drawing the mysterious language of the gods.

Good now, place your hand on the center of his body where his heart is Blueblood. Liesmith called out to him his voice echoing louder. Blueblood’s ears felt like they were about to burst in pain as he did as he was told.

Suddenly Redblood’s body began glowing brightly. Shining like the force of a thousand suns. Blueblood imagined he was going to go blind if he dared to look into the light.

Blueblood kept his eyes closed, reminding him about that one film where the Nazi’s opened the arc of the covenant and when they looked at it, to see the word of God their face’s melted. If he dared look at it. He imagined he’d look just like one of them.

A loud scream could be heard But Blueblood wasn’t sure if it was him, someone else, or even Liesmith now. But he held on for everything feeling the heat overwhelming him. Like if he slipped now he would be burned away.

“God give me strength.” He prayed loudly as he help on his pure force of will guiding him at this moment. Then everything went silent. The burning stopped and Blueblood only heard ringing, like the voice in his head was gone—like it was never there.

“God? Where are you? Are you still here.” Blueblood lowered his hand looking around. Blueblood jaw dropped as he couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing there was his son Redblood— yet it wasn’t Redblood. No, there was a glow to him, something that Blueblood would bow down to in utter respect not the fairy boy he had once known. No this was a man’s man. The way he stood there confident. The blood flaking from his body like ash.

“God… Is that you?” He said more scared to even question the being imagining he knew exactly who he was talking to.

“Very much, I am your Lord, but please call me Liesmith my loyal follower,” His voice was much deeper as he touched his face. There seemed to be a look of confusion on his face as he looked back towards Blueblood.

“I’ll need you to cut yourself I want to see something. Not much just enough that you can draw blood.” Liesmith said watching him with intense eyes as he suspected something was wrong. Blueblood watched up to Liesmith with shock, but dared not question him.

“As you wish sir, Let me just—just get a knife.” Blueblood ran into the kitchen as he turned and pulled out one of the kitchen knifes he returned holding it as he raised the sharp blade against his arm sinking it deep within him as he hissed out in pain.

Blood slowly came out of his cut, while he hissed in pain. Blueblood hoped he didn’t cut too deep. But he’d worry about it later while looking over to his god.

Liesmith walked over simply putting his hand over the cut. Focusing on the spot for the longest time, like he was trying to do something. Yet Blueblood didn’t feel anything except the continues stinging on his arm.

Liesmith pulled away, and Blueblood only looked at his hand seeing it was bleeding even harder,

“Curious… very curious.” Liesmith said as he watched the mortal bleed continuously.

“Liesmith, lord, whats wrong?” Blueblood said while hissing more as he looked around trying to find something to cover the bleeding.

“I think someone has taken my powers. But we’ll take care of it. We’ll find them. Then I shall reward you. Now come we have much to do.”