Dark Touch

by Elle Lewis

  I coughed as I drew in breath.

  His face was inches from mine, his black eyes simmering with anger. “Did you think this was over, human? You may be well protected now, but I will not stop until I have consumed every inch of you.”

  “Fuck you,” I said.

  He pulled me forward and then slammed me back into the wall. I cried out in pain as my head and shoulders hit the hard surface.

  “Your resistance is irritating,” he growled. “You are only making this worse for yourself. But if that’s your desire, I will it to grant you.” He changed his position, removing his forearm and instead wrapping a hand around my throat. He pulled me forward, so that I was pressed against him. Because of his height, my body curved as he forced me to meet his eyes.

  “I will cause you so much pain that you will remember this moment and wish you had chosen differently.” He spoke softly, as if he was talking about something beautiful. His voice held darkness and desire, a barely contained need to rip, tear, and devour. I began trembling, desperately afraid. He smiled slowly, pleased at my reaction. “You will be mine. Destruction will reign, and you will be the bringer of the ultimate darkness.”

  He let me go so forcefully and suddenly that I fell to the ground. I looked up at him. His wings unfurled, the span so great the tips brushed the walls on either side of the room.

  “I will see you soon, human.” He catapulted upwards, breaking through the marble ceiling, disappearing from view. Huge slabs of white marble began to fall from above and crash to the floor. I screamed as the entire ceiling broke apart and tumbled on top of me.

  *

  I sat up so suddenly that I fell out of bed and onto the floor, tangled in my yellow comforter. I struggled to get out of it, feeling trapped. I kicked it off and scrambled backwards across the carpet until I bumped into my dresser. I was breathing heavily, completely soaked in sweat. I sat there for a few moments, willing myself to calm down. It was only a dream. Another disturbingly realistic dream. I had almost managed to get my breathing back to normal when the pain under my skin intensified to an unbearable level.

  “Ahhh!” I grabbed my left arm, screaming aloud. It felt as if burning lava surged beneath my skin. It was spreading rapidly down my left side. It clawed across my ribs and raced all the way to my hip. The left half of my body was on fire.

  I fell onto my back, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. I had to go to the hospital but there was no way I could drive like this. I would have to wait it out. It would stop eventually, it had to stop. God, please make it stop! I screamed and moaned, gripping my left arm as I lay on the carpet. The pain raged inside my body mercilessly, tearing through my veins. I lay there for what felt like an eternity, gritting my teeth as I waited for it to stop. Finally, it began to dull, a slow and gradual withdrawal that left me feeling weak. The burning receded back to normal, humming stubbornly beneath my skin. It wasn’t gone but it was bearable, back to the level of pain I had been experiencing since Friday night. Although now it extended across my left rib cage, coming to an end at my hip. Fucking great.

  I didn’t want to think about how far it had spread or the frighteningly real dream. I rolled onto my stomach and pushed myself up, sitting back on my heels. I stayed there for a moment, waiting to see if another intense wave of torture would present itself. When nothing happened, I pulled on some galoshes, not bothering to change out of my sweats and red hoodie.

  It was an overcast Sunday. The grey sky promised rain. The dark clouds made it hard to tell what time it was, and I hadn’t checked before leaving. Whatever. I hurriedly climbed into my Jeep, feeling nauseous. A small voice in my mind told me that this situation was outside of the realm of normal medicine, but I told it to shut up and put the car in gear.

  Issaquah had a few medical centers. There was one about fifteen minutes away. It started to rain as I pulled into the ER on the side of the hospital. I strode through the double doors, my wet galoshes squeaking on the shiny white floors. I looked around uncertain for a few moments and then made my way over to the check-in desk.

  The receptionist had fire engine red hair and green glasses. She handed me a clip board. “Fill these out and bring them back to me. I am going to need your ID and insurance information.” She had a thick southern accent that was rarely heard in this part of the country. It made me think of iced tea and sunshine.

  I rummaged through my bag and pulled out my wallet, handing her the necessary cards.

  “Have a seat over there.” She gestured to a small square waiting area. Thankfully, there weren’t too many people waiting.

  I sat down and began working on the paperwork, filling out all the necessary information: Name, address, medical history, etc. My pen hovered momentarily over the reason for visit line. I scribbled the only thing that made sense and then paused again when I came to the emergency contact section. I thought of Millie and Donovan, but the less they knew about this entire situation the better. I simply wrote NONE and handed the paperwork back to the receptionist.

  “We will call you when a doctor is available,” she said politely.

  I gave her a small nod and sat back down in the waiting area, remembering for the first time that I had a bruise and several scratches on my face. Some base and concealer would probably cover up the worst of it, but I left in such a hurry and never carried makeup with me. Oh well. There were more important things to worry about, like what I would tell the doctor. I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought it over, shifting uncomfortably in the waiting room chair. My right side was still tender and sore. Part of me was relieved that I had left the house without taking a shower. I didn’t want to see the bruises.

  I spent the next half hour trying to keep my mind blank, not allowing myself to think about him or the golden warrior. Despite my efforts, my hands shook the entire time I waited to be called.

  After about forty minutes a nurse said, “Sloan Stolar?”

  I got up, my legs like jelly. I followed her past the receptionist’s desk into a little area that had a small desk and a chair. There was a computer on the desk, and a lot of medical equipment. I sat down in the chair.

  The nurse had my paperwork next to her on the desk, and she was entering information into the computer. She was young, with long chestnut brown hair that was pulled into a pony tail.

  “Alright Sloan, I am just going to get some information from you and then Dr. Meyers will see you. Your paperwork indicates you are here for a rash, is that correct?”

  I nodded.

  “And when did the symptoms start?”

  “Friday night.”

  “And where on your body did you first notice the rash?”

  “My left hand.”

  “Does it itch?”

  “It’s more of a burning sensation.” Fucking understatement of the year.

  “What makes the pain better or worse?” she asked. “Does it come and go or is it present at all times?”

  “It’s there all the time, constantly.” I tried to keep my voice even, although my stomach was twisting with nerves.

  She nodded, typing all my answers into the computer. “And are you on any medication?”

  “No.”

  “Allergic to any medication?”

  “No.”

  “Do you smoke?”

  She smiled when I shook my head no. “That’s good, and don’t ever start. Can you step onto the scale for me, please?”

  After she recorded my weight and height she had me sit back down so that she could take my blood pressure. I stayed quiet while she listened to my pulse through a stethoscope. She frowned.

  She pulled off the blood pressure cuff and changed the location of the stethoscop
e, placing it over my heart instead of the inside of my arm.

  The nurse quickly smoothed her facial expression, but I knew what was bothering her. It was my abnormally fast heart beat which didn’t make sense for someone who had been doing nothing but sitting for the past forty minutes.

  “Can you wait here for just a minute?” she asked

  I nodded, quickly regretting my decision to come to the hospital. I debated on leaving right then and there, but before I could make up my mind the nurse was back, and she had another nurse in tow. The second nurse was an older black woman, maybe in her late forties, with short hair. She had small round glasses, brown eyes, and little beaded earrings that dangled from her ears. She pulled out her stethoscope and listened to my heart beat for a few moments. She stood up and pulled the stethoscope out of her ears.

  She grabbed my paperwork, flipping through it quickly. After a quick review she turned to me, a serious no-nonsense expression on her face. “I am the charge nurse on staff today. Do you have a history of any tachycardias? Like, SVT?”

  “What?”

  “Abnormally fast heart rates,” the charge nurse explained. “It would be something that you see a cardiologist for regularly.”

  “No.”

  “I see. Have you taken anything within the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours, Ms. Stolar? I understand your paperwork says you are not on any medication, but did you take anything else before coming here?”

  Awesome. They think I’m on drugs.

  “No, I didn’t.” I said.

  “We are willing to treat you,” the charge nurse said. “But if you are not honest with us, about anything that may be in your system—it could have serious complications with any medications we may need to administer to you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. But I didn’t take anything.”

  “How did you sustain those injuries to your face?” The older nurse asked shrewdly.

  “I play lacrosse,” I lied.

  She regarded me for a few moments and then said, “We’ll do blood work and a urinalysis, to ensure you get the best care today.” The older nurse turned her attention away from me and addressed the young brunette nurse. “Please take the patient to a room and collect blood samples.” She launched into a set of orders that were full of medical jargon. She may as well have been speaking Klingon.

  The older nurse closed my file with a quick snap, and then left. Unsure of what else to do, I followed the younger nurse out of the room and down the hall. She pulled back a light pink curtain and asked me to have a seat on an exam table. I sat down. The sheet of paper lining the table crinkled loudly. I felt more uneasy by the second.

  “I’m just going to grab a few items and then we’ll get started. Be right back.” She slipped past the curtain and then closed it again, leaving me alone.

  I chewed on my bottom lip. If I was going to leave, this was the perfect time to do it. My voice of reason was still insisting that I was trying to fix an unexplainable situation by normal day-to-day means. If you are in pain, you see a doctor. They let you know what’s wrong, write a prescription and you are all better in a few days. Done. I did not want to be beyond the normal way the world worked. But a sickening feeling in my stomach told me I was. I was being stubborn and naïve, hoping that a trip to the hospital would somehow fix what was happening to me. I needed to leave before things got worse. Just as my galoshes touched the floor, the brown-haired nurse was back wearing blue gloves and carrying a syringe with three vials. I hopped back up on the hospital bed. Shit.

  “Roll up your left sleeve, please.”

  I did as she asked. She rubbed an alcohol pad across the inside of my elbow, and then pierced my skin with the needle. My mind was so full of nervous thoughts I barely felt the prick. Deep red blood gushed into the container, filling it quickly. With deft movements, she switched out the full one and added a new one. I watched my blood surge into the little container, deciding that as soon as she was done and took the vials to be sent, I would leave.

  Suddenly, the blood flow stopped.

  With her other hand she pressed down on my veins while she readjusted the needle. It started to flow again, but instead of normal red blood, black thick liquid began pouring into the container.

  My mouth dropped open. The nurse gave a strangled little gasp, her eyes wide. Little sparks of black and silver light were carried into the container with the dark liquid, shimmering like tiny bits of electricity. The different colored sparks were interacting, swirling around each other and then colliding. The container began to glow as the sparks increased their speed. It was like watching two different colored fire flies battle within the black liquid.

  I felt sick.

  The nurse somehow managed to maintain a level of professionalism. With quick movements, she removed the needle from my arm, sealed the two containers and left, mumbling something about getting the doctor. She hadn’t bothered to put a band aid on my arm. Dark black liquid trickled down my skin.

  The room swam. I felt dizzy and hot, disgust filling my mouth like rotten food. I jumped off the bed and rushed to the sink, sure I was going to be sick. But since I had not eaten at all today, nothing came up. Instead I gagged and dry heaved. Absolute horror wriggled around in my stomach like a nasty worm. I gripped the edges of the sink, my hands shaking. A clammy sweat broke out over my entire body. I had to get out of here.

  I splashed cold water on my face, trying to get a hold of myself. I couldn’t be here when they came back. Not after seeing what was in that second vial. I refused to let myself think about it. I closed off my mind as if it was as steel trap, not letting any other thoughts in.

  I walked to the pink curtain and pulled the edge back, looking down the hall. I didn’t see either nurse. There was a janitor in a blue jump suit polishing the floors, and a tall handsome man with dirty blonde hair and crystal blue eyes talking with a blonde nurse at the nurse’s station. They were so engrossed in their conversation that neither of them noticed me peeking around the curtain. I took in a deep breath and walked down the hospital corridor, smoothing my facial expression as best as I could.

  I was passing the receptionists desk before I knew it, and no one had yet tried to stop me. The double doors were ahead. I quickened my pace, grabbing my keys from my purse so that I could have them ready.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” The receptionist called, “You haven’t paid for your visit!”

  I kept walking.

  “Miss, Miss!” The receptionist kept trying to get my attention, but I ignored her. Then I heard the brunette nurse yelling my name and turned to see her jogging towards me. “Ms. Stolar, if you are leaving you must sign a form! You cannot just walk out!”

  I broke into a run.

  It was pouring rain and I was instantly drenched as I ran through the parking lot towards my car. I didn’t look behind me to see if she was going to chase me down in the parking lot. I fumbled with the keys as I unlocked the door, tossed my purse onto the passenger seat, jumped in and started the engine. The Jeep fishtailed as I peeled out of the parking lot. My heart was beating faster than ever, like some wild thing trapped inside my rib cage.

  My labored breath sounded loud in the quiet car, the only other noise the repetitive screech of the windshield wipers. I drove, not even registering what street I was on, unsure what to do or where to go. I was too worked up to go home yet. I would just end up pacing in my small house, worried and disgusted with what was coursing through my veins.

  At the first stop light I screamed in frustration and punched my steering wheel. “What the fuck is happening?”

  I continued to beat on my steering wheel and yell, until my screams turned into sobs. What am I going to do? There was nowhere f
or me to go, no one to turn to. I cried even harder. Cars started honking at me, angry drivers yelling out the window for me to go. I realized through blurry eyes the light was green. I blinked a few times and saw that I was in the right lane of an intersection. A Jack in the Box fast food place was on the right side of the road. It probably wasn’t a good idea to drive in the rain while hysterically crying, so I made a right turn and pulled into the drive through line. There were a few cars ahead of me, which gave me a little time to calm down. By the time I pulled up to the order box I had managed to get my crying down to a few sniffling hiccups.

  “What can I get for you?” The crackling voice asked.

  “I’ll have a number one with a Coke,” I said, not even knowing what the hell was in a number one. My voice sounded hoarse and cracked.

  “That’ll be $6.95, please pull up to the first window.”

  I gave the fast food employee a wrinkled wad of cash then drove forward to the second window where another employee handed me a big bag of grease. I put the Coke in the center cup holder and pulled into an empty parking space. I still wasn’t ready to go home.

  I turned on the heat hoping it would dry my clothes. Rain thundered on the roof, the smell of fast food quickly permeated the car. Out of curiosity, I rummaged through the bag. There was a cheeseburger and fries. Something about the familiar smell of greasy french fries made me feel a little better.

  I grabbed a straw from the bag and plunged it through the plastic cover of the Coke. I drank half of it in a few seconds. The cold soda felt great on my raw throat. My stomach suddenly growled. I reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of fries and popped them in my mouth. They were full of oil and salt and tasted amazing. I waited for a few moments to make sure I wasn’t going to be sick. When no nausea came, I continued to eat, thinking hard while I devoured the fries and cheeseburger.

  Before today, I had been hesitant to believe that what was happening was in fact real. Since Friday night I had been shoving things to the back of my mind. Even after seeing the news report, I still doubted it. But after witnessing the black liquid pour out of my vein, there was no denying it any longer. This was real, and it was not a part of the normal world. I was not hallucinating or experiencing a psychotic episode. It was entirely, conclusively, real.