The Four

Chapter 1 War Erick wakes up bright and early, at 0330 hours. He looks around his room, scratching his head of dark brown, crew cut hair. His brown eyes look almost solid black, in the darkness. He then exits his bed without hesitation, which takes some time due to its absurd size. His room was almost the size of a small house, giving him plenty of room to do as he pleased in the comfort of his vacant walls. Being born into money has its benefits, as well as its drawbacks. The benefit was ,of course, money. He never had to make any detrimental decisions financially. Most of those decisions were taken care of by accountants and bankers, all too happy to take money and place it where they thought it needed to go. A reclusive trust fund child had little desire to look into those matters anyway. The drawbacks being, in this case, family. His father Damien was sent into prison for a large manner of reasons, resulting in no chance of bail or parole. Erick never did dwell on the subject. He found it difficult to care about much of anything, contrary to his father, who was very passionate. Damien was the leader of a fanatic cult that worshipped the words of the Necronomicon. For the longest time, his father had searched for the true Necronomicon, but his search ended when he learned of Erick’s conception. His mother died in childbirth, leaving Damien to bring the child up alone, or at least as alone as his followers would allow. Dark as their faith was, this didn’t stop them from nurturing little Erick to health. Indeed it does take a village to raise a child, or in this case a zealous cult of demon worshippers. Erick never heard too much from his parents’ predecessors. Nothing at all from his father’s side, and he was only given cold, hateful remarks from his mother’s parents. It didn't help that his grandfather condemned Erick of "murdering" his daughter. All he had for the longest time was Damien and his "Followers". Erick was brought up around dark means including studying demonic manuscript, multiple methods of death and torture, and a baptism in blood at 9 months old. When he was 14, he was branded with a dark rune on his back. Out of curiosity one day, he discovered that the rune translated to “Dominion". Whether it meant he was being branded as property or some dominating force, Erick was unsure. Damien was confident that his son would take up his lifelong mission of finding the Necronomicon. It was because of this mindset, his child was trained for the task. To Damien’s repugnance, Erick chose a career more suited for a warrior of his time, rather than a researcher, and religious leader. He spent many years in the service of the country fighting on the front lines, and was well decorated regardless of his youth. Damien never favored his son’s choice on the matter, but his decision would not be swayed. Therefore, Damien chose silence over opposition, not condoning or condemning. Damien was already imprisoned, by the time Erick had returned home for good. Twelve counts of aiding and abetting, accessory to murder, and one count of 2nd Degree Murder of a police officer. The police officer’s partner caught Damien moments after he killed the first intruder. Details on what conspired are a bit convoluted, but what was certain is that Damien Locke would be left to rot behind cell doors for a long time. With his father imprisoned and his father’s disciples dead, Erick was left almost completely alone upon his return. Needless to say, regardless of his wealth, Erick's life has been anything but easy. The Locke Manor was a 3 story house made in the style of Romanian medieval architecture. The entrance was made of wooden, arched double doors that lead into the grand entrance, left wide open for his father’s disciples to gather for his “Sermons”. A chandelier of a dark brass hung in the middle of the room, with a combined look of beauty and horror, as it almost looked like a serrated claw looming over the grand entrance, like one you would see in a claw game ready to pluck any unsuspecting object from the mass within. Balconies loomed overhead from the 2nd and 3rd floors. The railing of these balconies looked to be made of a higher brass than the chandelier. The floor was a solid sheet of dark marble, and the walls looked of a darker stone. The 3 floors were connected to an elevator in the center of the balconies and the 2nd floor mainly composed of doors leading to half a dozen guest bedrooms. These were areas reserved for his disciples, but they have been long vacant, after the incident. The 3rd floor held the rooms given to permanent residents of the house, 4 in total. All of the rooms on their respective floors looked similar. The 3rd floor rooms were very large, not to say the 2nd floor rooms were small. Damien felt it necessary to treat his “Guests” well. The top floor was reserved for only a few people, and in the middle of the room at the end of the balcony, Erick stood. He walks into his personal bathroom and gets his morning hygiene routine out of the way. In this time he decides on whether he wants to wear his uniform or his civilian clothes to his first day of college, back from his deployment. He takes out a red t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and a black, short-sleeved over shirt from his closet. Before he gets dressed, he grabs a remote and pushes a series of buttons on it, causing his computer to play his music on repeat, as loud as it can go. With the customized sound system he had installed, it caused the third floor to vibrate. Screams of rage and hatred blasted his ears, as he finished getting dressed. He hit another button on the remote to cause his volume to slowly fade out, as he exited the room. He walks down the hallway, to the elevator, and presses the button to walk in and rides the it down to the first floor. As the elevator opens, he is met by a woman with platinum blonde hair at chin length, and perfect blue eyes. She wore a black nightgown that only made her look even paler than normal, almost ghost white, and a body which most men could only dream of having around. You would think she was almost constructed to be the perfect woman, cell by cell. Every curve in her body was well placed to make her more appealing to anyone who glanced her way, and more so to those who would be left to stare. She looked upon him with an adoring smile. "You're up early, my lord." she says, pleasantly. Erick shuts his eyes in disdain, "Please, don't call me that." "Well, you won't allow me to call you the things I would prefer, so it'll have to do." Annibelle Locke was the result of an arranged marriage by his father, when he turned eighteen. She was chosen from one of his many followers' daughters. The parents considered it an honor, to have their daughter chosen. Annibelle was trained at birth, a design of her father construction. Watching Erick grow, he attempted to develop her to his tastes and preferences, and he was successful. Damien looked upon her like a well thought out equation, rather than a suitable consort. She wasn't so much his wife as she was his servant, willing to serve him body, mind, and soul by any means he desired. He believed she would kill herself, had he only spoke of her to do it. He knew that he had absolute control over her, and he both loved and hated it. Although he refuses to admit it, he does desire and care for her as she does him. Erick walks out of the elevator, "I guess that will have to suffice."