Torn Between Souls

SCREAM

I trailed up the stairs after work, my body throbbing from the long double shift. Between the visions and the restless sleep, work was taking everything out of me. Hardly eating. Hardly rowing. No yoga. I was just too tired. And I missed Matteo.

The morning after our date, I awoke to a vase full of a hundred roses in my kitchen. I had texted him a thank you, and had only received a short “You’re welcome,” and I hadn’t spoken to him all day yesterday.

My phone started to ring. Well, speak of the devil. I answered it.

“Matteo,” I smiled softly into the receiver.

“Do NOT go into your apartment!” he almost shouted into my ear.

“What?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“I said, do not go to your apartment Rose!” Matteo said urgently on the other line.

I shook my head, “I’m walking up the stairs right now, Matteo. What’s the issue?”

“There was a break-in at the office,” he says, right as I catch a glimpse of my door.

The handle appears crumpled, and the edge of the white door is jarred and dented. My breathing catches in my throat.

“Rose? Are you okay? Keep talking to me,” Matteo says, and I can hear the tension and fear in his voice, “I’m almost there.”

“I’m here,” I whisper.

I press the door lightly, and tears spring into my eyes, as I look around the apartment. Everything is destroyed. My antique table from my aunt is in pieces. My books and paper are strewn around, my laptop lying broken on the floor. Glass lays scattered around the floor of the kitchen, and a picture of my parents lays in a broken frame on the ground at the entrance to my bedroom.

I step closer and see the picture for the 1000 time. My mother, her arms wrapped around her swollen belly, my father with his hand on her shoulder, standing slightly behind her. The frame is broken, shards of glass loose on the floor next to it, the wooden outline cracked, and I gasp, as a vision comes striking through me.

I crumple to my knees and drop the phone. Somewhere I can hear Matteo's muffled voice calling out for me through the speaker, but all I know is the vision in front of me.

I rubbed my tired eyes, sitting up in my bed, and called for my mother, “Mama?”

I can hear banging in the hallway, and as a shriek rips through the house, I

Freeze for a moment, before jumping out of my bed. I go to the door and listen as there is a bit more banging around, and then quiet. My breathing is heavy in my 5-year-old chest.

Finally, I open the door and start to head down the hallway.

“Mama?” I call softly, tears in my voice, “Papa?”

An eerie feeling creeps over me as I inch into the living and dining room, and all I see is red.

There is blood- everywhere. The walls. The floor. The ceiling. The stench of iron burns my eyes and nostrils. I feel a catch in my throat as I look down and see a photo of the floor. The frame is broken, my mother and father staring happily back at me.

“Baby,” a hoarse, broken voice calls, and I take off running into the kitchen.

“Mama!” I scream.

I round the corner, and there they are. My father...or what’s left of him lays lifeless on the floor. Half his body looks torn and scorched as if it had caught fire. His face in the unrecognizable mush. His body is covered in giant scratches, and one of his legs is on the other side of the room.

My mother leans against the wall, her breathing hoarse. She has no hands, and her entrails are laid out on the ground beside her. She is badly beaten, and I can’t see her skin through the blood.

Her eyes meet mine, and I see the light fading, “You and…”

She coughs and hunches over, before trying to meet my eyes again, “You and your sister were the best things to ever happen to us,” she says, before crumpling into a lifeless heap in the kitchen.

I scream.

“Rose!” a voice shouts “Rose! Rose please!”

It’s Matteo. I don’t know why he’s shouting. Oh wait, he’s shouting because someone is screaming.

“Rose please, “Matteo says in a broken voice against my ear, “Please.”

I’m screaming. I blink open my eyes, my voice was hoarse as I try to snap out of it, shaking my head. The tears fall uncontrollably, sobbing at the top of my lungs. Matteo strokes my face and his green eyes meet mine. He looks frightened.

“Rose, what happened?” he asks over my sobs.

My breath catches in my throat, and another scream tears through me, “MY PARENTS. They KILLED my PARENTS.”

My hair is snapping around me, I can’t see anything through my tears, and I’m furious.

“How could I not remember,” I sob, as Matteo pulls me into his arms, cradling me close, “How could I forget?”

I sobbed for I don’t know how long. I screamed and wailed until my voice was hoarse, and hardly a whimper. Matteo held me the whole time, stroking my hair, trying to calm me. Finally, through a haze, I heard him pick up the phone, and speak sharp Italian into the other end. When he hung up, I felt his finger under my chin, and I looked at him with empty, sullen eyes.

“I’m going to take you home with me,” he said in a gentle voice, “Can I give you something? To help calm you?”

I nodded, and he took a deep breath, before lancing his thumb with a canine, and bringing it to my lips, a small drop of blood appearing there.

“I don’t want to feel anything,” I continued.

A grimace crossed his face and he nodded, squeezing his thumb until the drop grew in size, before he brought it to my dry, parted lips. He gently touched my bottom lip, and I tasted metal, and a specific, intoxicating sweetness. Within moments, I was asleep.

MATTEOPOV

I continued to hold Rose’s shivering form until her breathing had deepened, and I was sure she was asleep. Finally, I pulled my phone back out and called Christian. He answered on the other line, and I could tell he was still shaken in after the break-in at the office.

“Matteo, what can I-”

“They came to her apartment,” I growled menacingly, “and she had a vision. She says they killed her parents. She is no longer safe here.”

“Well f**k,” Christian spat, “What can I do?”

“I’m going to send you a list. I need some things delivered to the manor in Italy. I already called Marianne, and she is expecting us. I need two first-class tickets, yesterday,” I hissed into the phone.

I was trying to contain my anger, and as I spoke, Rose whimpered slightly in my arms. I hung up on Christian, took a deep breath, and stood, carrying her in my arms to the bedroom. I set her down gently on her bed and went to her closet. I grabbed a simple change of clothes. Undergarments, leggings, and a long sleeve striped pullover, throwing it into her carry on bag. I also grabbed a few other things, but not much. I didn’t want them to know she had run, or where too.

I carried Rose and the carryon down to the car and placed her gently inside. A sad, scared whimper came out of her mouth, and I shushed her, smoothing her fiery hair away from her forehead, before closing her door.

I was furious as I drove to the airport.

They came into her home. They wrecked her apartment and I didn’t know why. They were either looking for something, or they simply wanted to continue to threaten her. I just wanted to protect her, but I was afraid of getting too close, and then this!

My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, it threatened to snap, and I made an effort to release my hands slightly, breathing out.

We arrived at the airport, and I was met by two private escorts, who led me to the airstrip without having to go through regular boarding procedures, before boarding. As I set Rose down on the seat beside me, reclining it for her, she tightened her hands in my shirt, balling them up, and muttering things in her sleep. I pulled her back against me, leaning back in my own seat as I watched the sunset. We took off shortly after, as I continued to stroke her hair.

I would never let something like this happen again.

We stopped but once for fuel, and almost 13 hours later we were touching down in Italy. As we coasted down the runway, Rose finally stirred, her body twisting slightly in my arms, before she sleepily opens her giant hazel eyes, staring back at me.

It took her a moment for her grogginess to pass to realize what was happening.

“Are we,” she started, but her voice was incredibly hoarse and I held up a tumbler of water, moving it to her lips.

“Drink,” I said softly, “You’ve slept a long time.”

Her face paled, and a flash of grief echoed in her eyes before she nodded, taking a few small sips of water.

“We’ve just landed in Italy,” I said quietly, looking over her face intently, “I’m taking you home.”

Her eyes widened, “Italy?”

I nodded, “To the manor. You’ll meet Marianne, the caretaker, and Ada, my sister…”

“And your mother,” she said softly, almost painfully, “Who hates witches.”

My grip on her tightened, “Elisa will behave,” I hissed, “she knows what you mean to me.”

Her face was sullen, and she tensed slightly at my words, “You can...put me down if you’d like,” she said under her eyelashes.

“Do you want me to set you down?” I asked, watching her face carefully.

She didn’t answer, just closed her eyes again, and settled back into my arms.

Finally, it was time to disembark. I set her down lightly, and she stood on shaky legs, so I kept my hand on her elbow, guiding her down the ramp to the airstrip. A car was waiting. A large black range rover. I helped her into the passenger seat before taking the drivers, and we sped off.

“How long of a drive is it?” she asked with a yawn.

“About two hours. You can sleep again if you wish.”

She looked down at herself, and then looked up into the mirror, flipping it down. I watched her fingers trace her puffy eyelids, her scowl, and my insides tightened. I wanted to trace her that way.

“I’m a mess,” she whispered, “I don’t want your family to see me this way.”

“You are beautiful,” I said firmly, flashing her a small grim.

She smiled meekly, and a hint of a blush crossed her cheeks. Then her face fell again.

“About...at my house…” she stuttered, and I saw tears well up in her eyes.

I reached over, and stroked the back of her hand, “Shhh….There is plenty of time to discuss that. Let’s just get you fed, and rested, and go from there.”

Her fingers turned, and she gave my hand a light squeeze, “Thank you.”

A smile moved over me, and the heat inside me burned hotter. This girl, with her wildfire hair, and her endless hazel eyes and her smooth alabaster skin- she will be fine.

And she will be mine.