Perhaps it was his massive frame or the fact that he was a Killer and this was the powers way of showing that he wasn't a natural Shadow, but his feet sunk in to the water a few inches, the cold water seeping in to his boots. Normally, he crossed over the surface as quickly as he could, the flowing river holding no interest to him. Tonight though, the almost imperceptible flashes under the surface drew his attention.
Kneeling down, the water swept over his pants, increasing the chill in his bones. Sure, summer was fast approaching, but the Canadian nights were still frigid and the liquid did nothing to alleviate the coolness. Of course, it didn't really bother him. His mind reacted to the belief that he was cold more than anything. When he really focused, he knew that, while he could feel subtle differences in the air and could even tell whether it was hot or cold, he didn't truly feel it.
The water surrounding him and moving past him, he was struck by a memory of his father. On a camping trip, they had seen a massive boulder in a river, stuck fast and blocking most of the water. Jonah had swam out to the rock and attempted to push it out of the way with all the know how a pre-pubescent boy could manage, and his father had simply laughed. "You're not going to move it that way, you're thinking too much like the rock. It's there now and that's all that matters. Wait long enough though, and that rockwon't even be here. It'll be eroded away." In the irressistible force versus immovable object argument, his father had always sided with the force.
Jonah realized that he was the rock in the river now. Thinking about the elders he had encountered thus far, each had seemed a little off. Keara's differences were obvious but she did not try and hide it. His thoughts turned to Mircea who seemed like a man out of time and Zachariah who, apparently, had betrayed someone that considered him a friend in order to gain more control in the present. That didn't even begin to consider the other elders that seemed to have been unbable to adapt to this new world and were either hermits or had returned to the Shadow Realm. Both an equal possibility since no one heard from them anymore.
His thoughts on the past, he realized that it had now been years since he had been to his hometown that wasn't too far outside of Harper Rock. At first, the avoidance had been intentional. He had moved away from the little place because his parents had died and there wasn't much for him to do there. There was no reason to go back because the memories of happier times were too painful. Once he was turned, it was even easier to stay in Harper Rock. The risk of dying was present once more outside the city and being damned to the Shadow Realm permanently was not something he desired.
The memories that he was turning over in his mind were strange though. He knew that they were his but he felt nothing towards them. Even apathy would have been too strong a word. There was a disconnectedness, as if he was flipping through a friend's photo album. No, not even that. It was as if it was a stranger's photo album.
Muscles flexing angrily, Jonah pushed off of the water and started running before he really knew where he was going. Anywhere in the city, he knew he could get to in, cliche as it sounded, a blink of an eye. Well outside the city limits, this trip took quite a few trips and the big killer felt drained when he finally slowed down. Slowing from a sprint to a jog to an easy walk, he casually jumped over a wrought iron gate and headed in what he hoped was the correct direction.
Few had ever described the man as skittish, and he had become more comfortable in graveyards since his turning and the large amount of time he spent in the catacombs and crypts under the city, but he still shuddered involuntarily as he wandered and wound through the various head stones. He hadn't seen his parents' graves since the funeral, but it was a family plot and his feet mostly remembered the way.
The ridiculousness of what he was doing struck him as he got close. There was no real reason for him to be here. The entire scene was like the climax of a superhero movie. In fact, he thought he could remember one exactly like it. Bruce Wayne alone in a graveyard, crying at his parents' tomb, begging for direction which eventually came. This was reality though and, despite the fact that he knew that there was a life after death, at least in some form or fashion, he didn't believe that there would be any direction provided tonight.
After a few stumbles and confusion as to which direction he was facing, Jonah found himself in front of the stone. A single piece of granite with angels kneeling and facing outwards, wings erect and meeting at the tips, it was an impressive piece of art. The dates of their respective births and shared deaths were engraved, as well as a short poem extolling their virtues as spouses and parents.
The man expected to feel grief, possibly even anger. These were his parents who had died in a tragic accident that was no ones fault. It was random and unfortunate and there was nothing anyone could have done about. For Jonah though, looking at the graves and knowing that their bodies were under his feet, he felt the same separation that he did from his memories. There was a certain amount of loyalty. Some respect. But nothing else. It wasn't that he had accepted their deaths and moved on, it was that their deaths meant nothing to him.
Nails became claws and he scooped enough dirt away from the piece of stone that he could make an addition. A small memorial of his own.
Jonah Pierce
1987-2011
The big man had known for a while that it was, at one time at least, common for vampires to take on a new identity after their turning. Until this moment, he hadn't understood why someone would do that. In his mind, he was the same person he had always been. In this moment though, he realized that he had changed, permanently, and not just physically. Jonah was left in the graveyard with his parents, something else pushed the loose soil over the name and turned to make the slow trek in to the wilderness where the forest canopy would protect him from the morning sun's harsh rays.