Ancient Blood: The Fallen (7 page)

Glancing at the vase I still held like a weapon in my hands, I gently set it on a nearby table, thinking to myself that a fat lot of good it would do me, for I couldn't even see what I was supposed to be hitting with it! Besides, the only thing I'd probably wind up injuring with the blasted thing, was myself!

Scuttling over to the center of the living room, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I felt as if it was going to come through and land at my feet, I stood there, crouched ninja style, coasting around in my head what to do.

Maybe I should tell someone, but tell them
what?

That I was hearing voices? That I was being watched, watched by something that, though I couldn’t be positive, I was nonetheless pretty damn certain was death itself! And guess what would happen? I'd have my butt admitted to the nearest Loony-bin is what would happen, and have my ass declared nuts!

I knew I wasn't bonkers, I knew that the thing pursuing me was real and by no means my imagination, however, if I'd heard someone else uttering the same story, I myself would have a hard time believing of their sanity.

Slowly time passed with no further whispers or any other occurrences, and my bladder finally managed to convince me that I was going to have to move, at first lightly complaining its neglect, then as I'd continued to ignore its pleas, it began to express quite clearly what was going to happen if I didn't obey its demands.

Then it was my turn to plead as I miserably trotted towards the bathroom, coaxing my nagging organ the whole way to just hang in there a few seconds longer.

Barely having escaped disaster, and with both me and my bladder happy at last, I exited the bathroom and found myself standing in the hallway, trying to summon up the courage to head back towards my studio, and whatever uninvited guest it, hopefully, no longer contained.

Finally convincing myself to put one foot in front of the other, I made my way down the hall and found myself pausing at the entrance of the room.
I peered inside, and let my eyes wonder, for though the room was flooded with light from the over head lamps dotted about the ceiling, revealing every nook and cranny to my saucer sized eyes, I was having problems talking myself into going any further into the room.

At last, taking a deep breath and calling myself a chicken, I pushed myself to step the rest of the way through the doorway. With breath shuddering out through my lips, I realized I was expecting something, anything and had, unknowingly, been preparing myself for battle.

However, when nothing out of the ordinary occurred, and though I felt silly for doing it, I began tiptoeing towards my painting table where, reaching out, I hurriedly replaced caps on paint tubes and refastened the top on the jar of linseed oil.

Quickly finding at that point, that staying within the room any longer than necessary was of an utmost undesirable situation, I turned and fled the room like the chicken I'd called myself.

However, I'd no more entered the hallway than I began to tingle from head to toe, my emotional state having triggered the unpredictable side of my ability, and a small firestorm filled the air around me, causing me to gasp, for it began to visibly shoot around the small space in arcs of flames, something I'd never seen it do before.

The searing power of its fury revealed itself in a crackling voice that joined my own shout of “oh
shit
” as I ducked into a squat of protection.

Orange sweeps of fire shot about my head in a dizzying myriad of acrobatics before bouncing off the walls, leaving behind dime size spots, glowing red and smoking on the surface of the walls wherever the flames touched. Then, just as fast as it appeared, the storm vanished, and I was left staring around with my brows dented above my eyes in a huge frown of disbelief as I gazed at the obsidian space of the hallway.

My mind was stunned, my thinking jumbled. What in the hell  had just happened, I wondered. The display I'd just witnessed had been in a league of ability that, up to that point, I'd never attained. In fact, what I'd just witnessed scared the shit out of me, for in comparison, the displays of my past had been infantile against what had just battered my hallway.

The hint of burnt matches that still lingered within the darkness was stronger than usual, burning my nostrils and sinuses with its pungent odor as, glancing around I blinked.

Suddenly I realized that the darkness was so complete it made me wonder if maybe I'd gone blind, then found myself wishing I'd gone deaf as well, for a multitude of whispers assaulted my ears, seemingly to come from all around me.

Whisper after whisper intermingled, one riding over the other until they became a loud jumble within my ears, deafening me to any other sound but their eerie echo. My body began to tremble, shaking with fear as the darkness took shape and I made to bolt, but I was too late for I slithered to the floor, the darkness not only consuming the space around me, but my mind as well.

* * *

From out of that darkness, I regained consciousness, my senses dulled, thoughts scattered, mind feeling like putty. A slight sense of amnesia claimed me, for I couldn't recall what I'd been doing just moments earlier. Gingerly I tried to move my arms, finding the effort to be in vain, for they felt heavy and weighted, tingly, numb, as though they'd fallen asleep, my legs as well seemed to be consumed by the strange lethargy.

I tried to move my head, but found that failed as well, the first prickles of unease I’d been experiencing climbed and advanced towards panic.

I found myself wondering if maybe I'd suffered a stroke, or fallen and injured my neck or back in some manner, however, I thought fleetingly, if I were hurt, in my current condition it would be impossible to know, for there was no sense of pain or discomfort, just the numbness and dysfunction of my extremities, as though they belonged to another.

Afraid to move, for fear of worsening the situation in case I really were hurt, I lay there without exerting any effort, confused, drawing in deep breaths as I tried to calm my panic and rapidly beating heart.              

Using the overhang of the trees that softly swayed within the breeze as a focal point, I debated what I should do, I couldn't call out, for I had no voice, which left me with few options. Slowly, ever so slowly my mind began to clear, my memory tossing up jumbled flashes of my day.

Then in a sudden rush, I recalled everything, from the voice in my studio, to the swirling darkness within the hallway. A darkness that had somehow morphed into the night sky and trees of the swamp that I now gazed at, and panicking I shouted inwardly at my body to move, uttering soundless sobs when nothing happened, for my torso was just incapable of following what I pleaded for it to do, leaving me helpless as a newborn babe!

I lay there, scared, confused and bewildered. Then the rustle of footsteps penetrated into my awareness, and I felt pinpricks of fear shoot through every nerve within my brain.

Though my body continued to feel nothing, my mind on the other hand was a different matter, and I became consumed in terror, for I was helpless, a sitting duck for whatever was approaching, and though I tried to summon my shield, it seemed to be frozen by the strange paralysis as well!

The closer the steps came, the more my fear mounted, until finally it reached such a fever pitch that I began to pray for unconsciousness, knowing that at least then I wouldn't have to look death in the face.               However, when the steps slowed and finally came to rest beside me, I gazed at the jean-clad legs, unable to comprehend what I was seeing as my mind abstractedly asked, “since when did Satan where jeans and boots? Where were the hairy legs and cloven hooves?”

I struggled to move my head, needing to see, to understand, to comprehend that what stood next to me was human, not beast, but as the effort to move failed miserably again, I silently screamed at my body to do something, anything besides lay there!

My limbs however, seemingly deaf to my pleas, didn't even make the slightest effort to even twitch, remaining completely unresponsive to my demands, and my eyes, the only things that did seem to be working properly, welled with moisture.

As the jean and boot clad figure hunkered down beside me, I heard a quick inhalation of breath as the clouds above us broke, revealing my features and the tears that trickled freely down my cheeks in the light of the moon.

I heard a low muttered hiss of, “this has gone on fucking long
enough
!”

Then I felt the lightest of touches, something similar to the kiss of butterfly wings against my temple, and suddenly my hearing dimmed as again, darkness enveloped me.

Stretching out an arm, I tugged at the sheet, pulling it a little further onto my shoulder, slow to wake, as I just wasn't quite ready to lose the semi state of awareness that held me cradled within its arms.               With a yawn, I snuggled deeper into its comforting warmth, yet wakefulness continued to nudge at the edges of my sleep, until suddenly the slumber that enveloped my brain within its fog cleared in one giant leap, and I sat up with a gasp, my eyes wide and sweeping the room.

My heart thudded madly against my chest like a caged bird, while fear raced up my back and panic clutched my stomach in a nauseating sphere of uncertainty. The events of the night before slammed their way through, insisting they be heard, but as my brain acknowledge what my eyes were seeing, my fear lessened and slowly, ever so slowly the realization that I must have suffered a nightmare sunk in.

Nightmares had terrorized me in my adolescence, but as I'd passed from a child into an adult, the nighttime terrors had eased, becoming less frightening in their intensity.

However, they'd never completely ceased, never quite managed to mitigate into non-existence, and this one had very much reminded me of those of my youth, yet it was
so
unlike
them!

Nonetheless, I was beginning to feel confusion, for a myriad of questions bombarded my brain as I was gazing at the contents within my bedroom, and in that lay my discombobulation, for I didn't even remember coming to my room.

The last I could recall, I was exiting my studio and standing within the darkness of the hallway just outside it. From there, everything that had occurred next was a blank, an area of non-existence, unclear.

Unless
...I heard my inner voice whisper, wanting to refuse even the possibility that everything that had been involved within my nightmare was reality. That, in fact, I
had
been outside, that the paralyzation of my body
had
been real, that any, and
all
of it, could have been anything other than what I, unbelievably, wanted it to be…a
nightmare!

My stomach quivered with unease, and dropping my head, I drew in deep calming breaths as I softly murmured to myself, “a nightmare, it was just a damn nightmare, that's all.”

Oh God I
hope
it was just a nightmare!

However, even as I thought the words, I knew the truth, and as chill bumps arose on my flesh, chasing one another in procession across my shirking skin, I tossed aside the sheet, pushing to the edge of the bed and rubbing at the bumps, I lowered my legs, touching my feet to the hardwood floor as I found myself chocking back a budding sob, panic flushing throughout my system.

Unable to be still any longer I stood, feeling my legs give a slight quiver beneath me as I shuffled my way towards the bathroom, trying my best to assure myself with each step I took that none of it had been reality, yet again my gut told me it was.

However, by the time I stood before the sink my legs felt like limp noodles and I quickly lowered the lid on the toilet, plopping down on its surface before my legs completely gave out and I found myself on the floor, then dropping my head into my hands, I felt my body quiver with anxiety.

Fifteen minutes later though, I was hurtling out of the house, completely giving up on the effort of denying the events of the night before, as it had been thoroughly squelched upon seeing the black smudges on the hallway walls. The slam of the door echoed behind me with a thunderous boom as I leaped from  the porch and ran to my pickup.

I took the rutted drive at a fast pace, paying for my carelessness by having my insides jarred to bits and a slight case of whiplash, however, as I pulled out onto the street I began to breath just a tiny bit better.

Some of the tenseness that held me in its grip was easing, and I tried to sort out what I knew to be fact, and what remained questionable within my mind.               However, eventually I gave up and found myself doing my best to enjoy the drive.

The wind was blowing in through the rolled down window, cooling the perspiration that had sprung up within the heat of the morning, as well as teasing my hair, causing it to lift and whip around me as it caressed my cheeks and bare arms, flirting playfully with my neck and shoulders.

After a while of non-purposeful driving, I found myself at the entrance of the park, and making a quick decision, I cranked the steering wheel turning in through the gates.

Slowly I drove around, obeying the five mile an hour speed limit until I grew tired of going around in an endless circle, and pulling into an empty parking space, I shut down the engine.

Climbing out I glanced around at the busy area, noting the screaming and laughing children that were in the midst of a variety of activities. Some played on swings and teeter-totters, while others played in the sand boxes dotted about the park grounds.

While still yet others ran about, chasing each other in a game of tag, or kicking a soccer ball around, while their parents sat on benches or in lawn chairs, discussing whatever it was parents talked about among themselves while lovingly observing their young at play beneath their protective gazes.

I tried on a grin at the antics of the children, but found it just didn’t fit with what I'd been through, so I let it drop as I walked over to a deserted bench and sat down.

I was listening to the sounds around me and absently gazing at the children on the playground when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, lifting my head I peered closer, noting movement within the trees bordering the park.

Rising off the bench I stared, “what the hell” I softly breathed to myself, for whatever was in the trees appeared to be moving stealthily within the shadows, as though wanting to remain anonymous.

              I felt apprehension slither through me, an uneasy sensation settling within the pit of my stomach, and abruptly a cry of alarm escaped from between my lips as whatever it was, for I couldn't distinguish that it actually took on any form at all, dispatched itself from the trees and launched straight towards me.

Suddenly, and before I could react, I found myself roughly shoved to the ground from behind as words began to issue in a snarl above my head.

Laid flat out, as a leaden weight bore me down into the grass and dirt, I tried to struggle.

However, I found the task nearly impossible as the person who sat perched atop me seemed to weigh as much as the empire state building, and with a renewed sense of fear assaulting every fiber of my being, I fought to draw a breath so I could utter a scream, but the only sounds I could make, came out as a muffled squeak.

From slightly above my ear a voice hissed, “fucking Christ Kira, why in the name of all that’s holy did you just
stand
there!”

A superfluity of emotions shimmered throughout my system all at once at the voice. A voice I hadn't heard in half a year, a voice that curled around me and bathed me in heat all the way to my vagina.

I was so entrenched within the emotion, that I was barely aware of being jerked from the ground, lifted off my feet and hauled bodily into the parking area.

Or, of the fact that the whole time, the owner of that voice was muttering words quietly to himself before shoving me into the passenger seat of his pickup.

Stunned and shamed at the same time, I sat frozen in place as I watched Dante run around the front of the truck where I continued to watch as he climbed in the drivers seat, and fired the truck to life, then with engine roaring, he shot out onto the road, fishtailing for several seconds and suddenly I came alive with a different feeling than that of desire.

My stomach crawled into my throat, and a bout of nausea overtook me even as Dante regained control of the truck, and though the rear-end was no longer swinging side to side, it was now gathering speed, and the increase in momentum was making everything pass in a dizzying myriad of colors and blurs.

Then my stomach offered its last warning before it revolted against what my eyes were witnessing, and I found myself screeching in a voice filled with distress, “I'm gonna to be
sick
…”

Swallowing convulsively to keep most of the bile at bay, I shouted, “
pull over
...!”

However, pulling over was not on Dante’s agenda, and as the landmarks of town continued to rapidly fly by, changing into rougher, more rural territory, terrain that was scarcely populated with anything other than an abundance of trees that became thicker and denser the further we went, I finally managed to choke out “stop the damn truck!”              

Eyebrows pulling taught over his eyes, Dante finally looked over at me, his face darkening even further at seeing the greenish cast that encompassed my own and spat, “don't you
dare
!”

Covering my mouth in an attempt to keep anything from coming up, I groaned, “then stop…the…goddamn…truck!”

Fighting with the steering wheel as we careened around a corner on what felt like two wheels, Dante hissed, “not a good idea right now Kira” before a vulgar curse ripped from his mouth as my head whipped backwards, slamming into the rear window of the pickup as a vehicle hit us from behind, sending the pickup into a slide.

Uttering a sharp cry of pain and fear as bright lights flashed before my eyes, I unthinkingly began trying to scramble out of my seat.

Another scream of fright erupted as the pickup, now skidding nearly sideways in the center of the road, took a second blow on the back fender from the vehicle pursuing us as I heard Dante snarl a curse, fighting to get the pickup back under control.

However, it hit a patch of loose gravel and suddenly we were airborne, the only sounds the roar of the engine, Dante’s cursing, and my own hysterical screams.

Then, in what was only a matter of seconds, but to my fear gripped mind, seemed to take hours, the truck flipped, slamming into the grass and dirt beneath it, before again we became airborne as it started the process all over again.

As the truck tumbled, I found the momentum jerking me forward and propelling me towards the windshield where my head smashed against glass before darkness descended around me.