3. In the Blood
1313 Words
Roman
Year: 1984, 29th May, Tuesday, 10.40 AM, P.S.T, Spring.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Sally-Anne screamed.
I didn’t understand what was happening.
One second we were… and now she was on the floor. She was screaming and clutching her stomach but when I tried to go to her she wouldn't let me.
I put my hand to my neck covering the spot where she had just bitten me. This had gotten out of hand very quickly. With a deep breath I tried to quell the feelings that were rising inside me. The need to hold her, to comfort her, to help her was sooo much stronger. Almost painfully so. I held myself back. It wasn’t what she wanted right now. I didn’t know what she had been through.
“Sally-Anne, what is wrong? Tell me how I can help you?” I spoke softly from the other side of the room, trying to give her space even though every part of me was demanding to scoop her into my arms.
She didn’t answer me. A little grunt of pain and a sob were all she gave before she ceased clutching her middle and started clutching her head instead. Her hands were now slick with her own blood, an object that I couldn’t identify clutched in one. My heart clenched painfully at the sight.
“Sally-Anne?” I tried again, crouching down where I had stood in an attempt to appear less threatening. “Please let me help you. Tell me what I can do.” I felt completely lost as she rocked and sobbed in the fetal position on my office floor.
I moved a little closer without thinking.
“No, no, no. Don’t, don’t - I can’t…” She sobbed harder.
“Sorry, I’m just worried.” I rubbed my neck trying to soothe the feeling there. An idea came to me. “Sally-Anne, I just want to help you, let me help you. Use your Tick. Feel what I’m feeling.” She relaxed a little and the sobbing quieted.
I went to move away, against my instinct, and give her a little more space but as I did I felt her emotions spike. She wanted me but she didn’t want me to touch her.
“Stay…” She whispered, a broken desperate sound.
“I’m right here, Sally-Anne. I’m with you.” I ached for her, to comfort and heal and care for her but she was fragile and I couldn’t afford to put my needs before her own. She deserved more than that. I was not a young, inexperienced boy. I was a Demon, ancient and powerful with many facets at my disposal. I needed to think around the issue at hand and not just act on impulse.
“I’m gonna be sick.” She mewled. Slowly, I grabbed the waste paper basket from next to my desk along with what was left of my shirt, speaking to her the whole time, telling Sally-Ane exactly what I was doing before putting it within her reach and sitting down the same distance away I had been before. She grabbed the little trash can with shaking hands and hunched over it like she might indeed vomit. I knew that was not possible but I saw no need to correct her. My only desire was to comfort her. That desire had me sliding my damaged shirt onto my otherwise naked body.
“Sally-Anne, you seem very upset. If you would like to be held I am here for you." I closed my eyes and let my arms hang at my sides. I allowed my body to speak for me. Not a threat, it told her quietly.
After a little while there was some movement about the room and some shy shuffling in front of me. Wordlessly she slipped onto my lap and once she was settled Sally-Anne tugged first one arm then the other up around her. I held back a satisfied groan. My whole being felt complete now she was in my embrace.
Opening my eyes I looked down at her. Sally-Anne had hunkered down making herself as small as she could. She was clutching not only the basket and the bloody object that I had not as of yet identified but also Guy's knife. She had retrieved it from where it had been set down on the desk. The way she held the objects as though they were the most precious things in the world made me want to weep but I worked to keep my feelings to myself. In the calmness I was struck by a sudden thought; that was everything she owned.
"I'm sorry." She whispered into my chest.
"Why?" I wanted to hold her tighter and rub soothing circles on her back but I refrained. Everything needs to be at her pace.
"I'm making you sad." Her small frame heaved as another sob took hold.
"Dear Sally-Anne, I'm not sad because of you I'm sad for you. I don't like to see you hurting." I attempted to reassure her. "Can I hold you tighter?" The question was out before I'd even really thought about it.
"Mmmhuh." I felt her nod against my chest and my arms pulled her closer. "It doesn't hurt." She mumbled.
"What do you mean?" Alarm was ringing through me.
"This is real, right?" She sounded far away as she asked me. I remembered the way she had swayed. The look in her eyes. Was there something wrong? She had seemed ok once we were here.
"Yes, it's real. I'm here." I assured.
"So strange. It's always hurt before."
"What has?"
"The poison, I drank poison. I'm sorry. I'll be dead soon."
"Do you know what poison it was? Will you please tell me?" I couldn't lose her, not so soon. Not ever really.
"Wolfsbane."
The tension left my limbs.
"You'll be ok. My blood will have healed you."
I expected to feel her relief but instead she just wept tearlessly, as was the Vampire way, while I held her in my arms.
Hours passed and neither of us moved. I didn't mind. I would hold her for as long as she needed or wanted. Eventually her crying abated and she relaxed but I didn't jump in straight away. Sally-Anne needed time. Luckily we had plenty of it.
I was just considering the next course of action when Zatiheir came bustling in.
"Master, I have the…" Zatiheir stopped in her tracks and Sally-Anne exploded out of my arms flash stepping across the room. The waste basket landed softly on the floor, rolling a little and spilling scrunched balls of paper across the dark grey carpet.
Sally-Anne trembled and shook, backed against the wall like a trapped animal. Her eyes darted from the closed door to the floor and back, over and over. A pain soaked whine bubbled in her throat. Sally-Anne's anguish filled the air.
Zatiheir's eyes were brimming with tears, they pooled in her wide almond eyes, clinging there as though by not falling her emotions were somehow contained. With a muted clatter, the clipboard she’d been studying as she entered the room dropped to the floor. The sadness and horror Zatiheir felt at seeing Sally-Anne wasn’t because she was a Vampire and it wasn’t because of her physical appearance. I knew Zatiheir wasn’t the stuck up sort, the look on her face had nothing to do with Sally-Anne’s nakedness or the blood smears on her skin or the tangle of her hair. She wouldn’t even be judgmental about the smell of s*x in my usually pristine office. No, what was breaking Zatiheir’s heart was the glimpse of Sally-Anne’s soul.
It must be incredibly harrowing to bring my Elven friend to the edge of such sorrow.
“Don’t.” I called too late. Without her usual forethought, Zatiheir took a small step back.
- Writer
