by Tara Chau
Something in me burns, not the red fire that I have long embraced, but a light, brighter than last. It beats against my chest, my ribs, my fire. A silent scream fills the room with agony. A battle is happening inside me, of fire and light. Red, white, red, white, red, white. I reach out, trying to see, to listen, but all I see is red; all I hear is ringing, ringing, ringing. I start to shake. Looking up at the scared people that have now surrounded me, I plead for help. He runs, that man, that frail old man, he runs, faster than I've ever seen. Clawing at my chest, it seems like all rational senses have dissipated, leaving me in a frantic ball on the ground. There! That ancient voice, it calls, it screams.
Rise.
My limbs fail me. My mind crumbles further the more I struggle. It seems like everything around me is falling, collapsing. Red, white, red, white, red, white. Everything, nothing.
Rise!
Liquid fire flows down my cheeks like a stream, Ronnie's soft features flashing in my mind, her smile, her laugh, all these memories being dragged from the back of my head, that ancient force tugging on me, tugging me back. My back arches up, the fire now creeping down my spine. I hear a scream, but it's not mine. My head snaps up, the red darkens in my vision, blocking my view, keeping me from finding the origin of the screams—white flashes, red, white, red, white, red, white. I force myself to respond, force myself to rise. Working on small movements, I try blinking, one, two, come on.
Rise!
My vision clears to a pale swirl of red, pressuring myself to look beyond, to listen. I focus.
He's back, that old man, and… Anne. She pushes through the crowd that has formed a circle around me, coming to sit in front of me, her hands reaching out. My body throws me back. I slam into the ground. My arms ache as I crawl away from her against one of the walls. She gets up only to come to sit in front of me again. I can see her mouth moving, but I can't hear her, just the ringing. I can see the tenderness in her eyes and the fear. Slowly, Anne extends her hand, like she wants me to give her something. Slowly realising that I'm still clutching the paper, I look down at my hands. They're white from gripping the page too tight. Blood drips down my palm, cuts from the laminated edges. I don't give it to her, instead, I let go, hissing as the sudden loss of presser and the stiffness of my fingers, and I hug it against my body. Closing my eyes, I let my tears fall, this time trying to gain control of my breathing.
My breaths are heavy, making my shoulders rise and fall; with each wave of heat that crashes, my breaths stumble, losing my rhythm. I shake, squeezing my eyes tight as if it will stop the ringing. The air shifts, my eyes snap open just before I see Anne place her hand on my cheek. She cries out as her fingers are burnt. I look at her in horror, smashing my spine against the wall, shrinking into myself. The sick part of me laughs, soaks in Anne's pain. That ancient power in me writhes, squirms at the sound.
Get up!
She mouths, she pleads. Anne repeats these words, over and over, never dropping her eyes from mine. In her eyes, I see me. I see the fear, the anger, the pain, and the red.
Get up. Rise!
These words swirl inside my mind, hitting a dead end each time until they finally seep in. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself. Shoving the fire down, I let out a scream as it flares. I see Anne flinch, but she stays where she is. I make to push again, harnessing the ancient power. I drive it into the pulsing heart, an anguished cry escapes. One more time. Thrusting at it, I feel the flames give one more attempt at freedom before they recede and turn into a slight throb at the back of my head.
The ringing subsides till my eardrums simply throb lightly and my vision clears of flames. I gasp, taking in as much air as possible while my eyes frantically dart between faces. The heat slowly fades, leaving me shivering instead. My clear eyes come to meet Anne's; she smiles wearily.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
Anne shakes her head, holding out a hand. I take it slowly, watching carefully to see if it hurts her. Once I’m satisfied, I turn to the old man.
“Thank you, and I owe you an apology as well,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“No thanks needed, but you ought to see that looked at,” he replies before shoeing his works back to work.
“Can I see it?” Anne asks.
Nodding, I pass her the source of my snap.
She looks at it for a long moment. I see her smart eyes taking in every face, sign, and feeling that it throws out. She takes a shuddering breath, shaking her head in despair.
“I think she would like this,” Anne says softly.
I lower my head to the ground, watching as my hands slowly start to heal themselves.
"Accept, maybe they should have made her glow purple; she liked that colour,” Anne smiles.
I let out a small laugh, looking up to meet Anne’s gaze.
"I'm… I'm sorry you had to see that again,” I whisper.
“It’s okay, Di, don’t beat yourself up about it,” she says, taking a step closer to me.
"I think that's what I deserve."
“No one deserves to constantly beat themselves up,” she sighs, as if she is disappointed the I need this lecture. “No one was hurt. The worst you did was give that old man the biggest scare of his life.”
I smile a little bit at that. Speaking of, he approaches us slowly, watching me with a close eye, “I’m sorry to disrupt you, but if we could have that now?” he asks.
“Oh, yes,” Anne says with an apologetic smile.
He nods his acknowledgment but scurries off quickly.
“I-I thought that I was past this stage, this vengeance that I feel, I thought that I was over it already,” I say, cursing my weak voice.
"Di, it's barely been three weeks. It takes time,” she says.
“Do you still see her?” I ask, “In your dreams?”
“Always,” she says without fear.
“Sometimes, it will be days before I see her again. And then other times, I see nothing but her, and in those times, I’m afraid to close my eyes,” I admit, I haven’t admitted that to anyone.
"You can trust me on this; you are not the only one,” she assures.
I nod, closing my eyes for a moment, letting myself absorb her words and my actions.
“What-what triggers it?” Anne asks cautiously.
“I-I think it’s any sudden and really strong negative emotion,” I say.
“But you never used to do that,” Anne says, eyebrows furrowing.
"No, no, I didn't,” I agree.
"So, what is the difference now?"
“I think that it’s because of these new powers that I’m feeling. It’s ancient, really ancient, and strong,” I say with a sigh, “Maybe, this other red, it must have come with the power.”
“A good and a bad?” Anne asks.
“Maybe…” I drawl.
“Well, there has to be a way to control it,” Anne says.
"I'm sure there is. I just have to figure it out."
We both stand here, lost in our own minds. A gust of wind shocks us both before Gabe appears. Suddenly his hands are on my cheeks, and I can feel his laboured breathing. Gabe searches my eyes, my face, finally letting out a satisfied sigh before stepping back.
"Now he turns up!" Anne says, flinging her arms into the air.
“What happened?” he demands.
“She snapped,” Anne answers.
Gabe turns back to me, “Why?”
“Because," I attempt, my voice breaking further, "I saw the painting that they're going to do, and it stirred some negative things inside my messed-up mind."
Gabe heaves a sigh, shaking his head.
“Just a stupid thing,” I say quietly.
“No, not stupid, just dangerous. You gotta have more control, Di,” he lectures.
"Woah, Gabe, you lasted about four sentences before you gave in to the urge of giving a lecture. I'm so proud of you!" Anne says.
I cover my mouth, trying to
muffle my laugh. She took the words right out of my mouth. Gabe ignores her comment but still turns to her.
“Thank you, Anne, for telling me,” he says.
“Thank you, Gabe, for finally turning up,” she teases, “But the hard work was about ten minutes ago.”
I laugh at them both, the last of the fire finally burning out and dying.
“Please, don’t snap,” Gabe begs as we walk through the square.
“I don’t have the best control over it, but it’s not like I enjoy doing it,” I say defensively.
“I know that, but whenever you see him, you tend to… go berserk,” he says cautiously.
“Gabe, you are my amazing boyfriend who is so caring, but if you don’t stop worrying so much and verbally stating it, I’m going to blow,” I huff, “And then Lucien wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.”
Gabe holds up his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes at my crossed arms and pouted lips. The stars are faint against the black night sky, lights from the shops dulling them to a low glimmer. Continuing down the road, I can see Gabe counting the streets, making sure that we don't pass the entrance. Like Jess and Hayden and Anne and Ty before them, the two of us finally find the ally, slipping between the boards nailed into what seems like the ground but is just covering an old staircase.
We both stand at the top of the staircase, hiding in the shadows cast from the streetlights seeping through the boards. Crouching in the corners, it's the perfect view. Giving us the means to see everything, the height, and the cover, we work to our advantage. From our perch, we can see over the two platforms and can confirm that it indeed does look like the whole Xavia are gathered here. I'm busting to ask a question, but silence is one of the crucial things in this. We work around demonic beings with incredible hearing and inhumane abilities, after all. Suppressing the urge to gasp, I look around desperately for Gabe, eyes skipping over the spot I had just seen him in before he disappeared. Inhumane abilities? Tick.
Spotting Gabe a few metres away, I lose a shuddering breath. He approaches Lucien's tent, two daggers grasped tight in his hands. My body lurches for him, barely held back by my mind. I desperately watch him, forcing myself back into the dark. With each step closer to the tent, my heart skips a beat. My breath staggers as a vampire rounds the corner striding towards Lucien's tent and towards Gabe. Eyes darting between Gabe and the vamp, I draw a throwing knife from my coat, watching carefully. Somehow, its approach skips Gabe's focus; its face lights up instantly at the anticipation of the quickly approaching kill. Allowing Gabe three more seconds, I cock my arm back, waiting for it to pass the bottom of the stairs before throwing and releasing. The vampire spins at the brief whistling of the flying blade, the very thing I depended on, its eyes wide in shock. The thump of the blade in its heart causes Gabe to whirl.
In a flash of deep blue, he's at its side, catching it smoothly before it hits the ground, which would have caused a loud crack, attracting the attention of multiple others.
I smile as Gabe takes in the vamps extended fangs and nails, observing his reaction as he realises his mistake and my amazing rescue. He looks up towards me, squinting to see me through the dark. Leaning forward half an inch, I give him a proud grin, and he returns it with a simple, infuriating nod. Turning back to the dead, he yanks the blade from its heart, whipping the gore off with its shirt carelessly before tucking it into his own coat.
I let out an exasperated groan as he continues to walk towards the tent, determined to get himself killed. Holding my breath, I fight back the need to follow him into the death tent, telling myself that I am content in being a lookout this time. Minutes pass, and my breathing becomes shallow as I wait for a sign, a cue, something. Minutes pass, and I release a shaky breath as I wait patiently for Gabe to run up the stairs, motioning for us to go, the dead vampire over his shoulder. As soon as we're out of the station, Gabe drops the body, ripping off some cloth from its shirt and dipping it in the bloody puddle already starting to form. He smears it across the ally floor, making it look like a trail like the vamp dragged itself here. Gabe places the rag into its hand and moves it stiffly up to rest above its heart, nodding in satisfaction. We dash out of the ally hastily. I wait three minutes to be clear of people before stopping dead.
“Fine, get it over with then,” Gabe says, crossing his arms.
“Why are you crossing your arms?” I ask, “I should be the one doing that. What the hell were you thinking? All that talk about me not overreacting and being stupid over these past few days, and you go do exactly what you told me not to do,” I fume.
“I saw Lucien leave the tent without the book,” Gabe says, silencing me.
“And?” I prod.
"He's keeping a charm on it now. No one can touch it while it's active, including him. That means he has to deactivate it before he can hold it," Gabe explains.
"So, then we can't make it without him knowing. We have to get it while he has it," I realise.
“Correct.”
"It doesn't change the plan. We just have to be clever about getting hold of it and keeping hold of it," I say.
“Yep,” he agrees.
“Still, you should have told me,” I say obviously.
"You would have wanted to come with me, or worse, do it yourself,” he says with a shrug.
"So, you instead left without warning, giving me a heart attack," I lecture.
“I needed you to cover me.”
“Well, what if I hadn’t seen? You know, because you didn’t tell me!” I yell.
“Then you wouldn’t be very good at your job,” he answers.
“Says you, you’re the one that didn’t see the vamp,” I point out.
“I was a little bit distracted,” he retorts.
“Whatever,” I grouch.
“Don’t be like that,” he says with a warning tone.
“Don’t be like that,” I mock.
Gabe looks at me judgingly, taking in my now crossed arms and sassy head cock. "Are you upset that I didn't tell you I was going or that you didn't get to play detective?" he asks.
“I’m upset that you risked getting killed!” I say.
“You wouldn’t have let that happen,” he says surly, “I trust you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I say softly.
“Why do you say that?” he asks apprehensively, “Is it because of your snaps?”
I hesitate before I nod.
“Di,” he says, hands clutching my shoulders tightly, “you’re still the same. You’re still good.”
"No, not when I'm seeing red. When that happens, it's like something is making me think the worst of everything, making me angrier, making me want to do all these despicable things,” I explain.
“And every time you’ve overcome that,” he reminds.
“Only just.”
"That's better than not at all. It proves that you're stronger than this,” he says.
“Whatever this is,” I mumble.
“Yes, after all this, we’ll figure out what this is,” he promises, “That’s our next adventure.”
“Not much of an adventure,” I say with a small smile.
"It's often the smallest ones that are the greatest,” he replies with a broad grin.
“Yes, Yoda,” I say, bowing my head.
When I come back to look at his face, I laugh at his bright eyes, his dazzling smile, at his excited face—Star Wars, enough to make even the gloomiest guy beam, especially if it's this guy.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he asks, wrapping me in his arms.
“Yeah, I know that.” I grin.
A loud shriek escapes my mouth as he pokes a finger into my stomach. I suffer endlessly as he pokes me under the arms and in the gut, making me laugh till tears fill my eyes and I'm squirming from his grasp, only to double over, clutching my stomach. Once my fit is over, I straighten myself, suppressing my smile and looking to Gabe, a lousy professional look on my fa
ce.
“Thank you, Gabriel, you are pretty amazing as well,” I say, my mouth wobbling from the intense urge to laugh.
Gabe gives me a sour look before coming at me again. I shout out in protest, flinging my hands out in front of me like it would stop him.
Once I’m again in his embrace, he whispers, “Not only are you amazing, but you’re adorably cute as well.”
I nod, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to hold my tears back as he digs his finger into my side. Stamping down on his foot, I spin out of his loosened grasp, poking my finger into his chest.
"You-" I gasp, still trying to regain my breath, "you are a meanie, stop it."
Gabe widens his eyes, so they're huge, letting his lower lip wobble expertly, making me bark out in laughter. An old lady passes us, her tongue clicking in annoyance as if to say, kids!
Gabe chuckles his amusement, patting my head as I place my hands on my knees, sucking in the air desperately.
“Tut, tut,” Gabe says, shaking his head.
I click my tongue in mock of the old lady, biting my lip as Gabe snorts.
“We’re being very unprofessional,” I state with a flare, trying to take up a serious face.
“Quite,” Gabe agrees.
We stand here and look at each other for less than five seconds before another round of laughter erupts from us, this time sending us both to the sidewalk. I let out gasps, trying to suck in air as I watch Gabe's wall fall. Gabe somehow recovers first, hauling me to my feet. I stumble back as soon as he lets go, readying myself in a crazy ninja pose, which inevitably causes Gabe to laugh.
“Stay away,” I order.
Gabe sighs, “That might be a bit hard.”
“Well then, come at me, if you dare,” I say, using two of my fingers to motion him forward like in those old kung fu movies.
Gabe slowly walks towards me, not bothering to put up with my charade. He dodges my attack, lunging at me with ease. I yelp as his arms close around my waist.