by Darci Darson
“Thank you,” she said and laughed as he shook his head, splashing her with even more water. He did not say anything; just watched her like he was enchanted. For an instant, there was something magical between them, light and crystalline, as they stood opposite each other, with the water cascading down, their visions blurred; they were surrounded by its dripping whisper, separated from the whole world, detached. Cherry had these butterflies in her stomach as the man in front of her seemed to notice only her now. And she just had no idea what was really happening now, so she sent him her bright and honest smile. He looked sad and contented at the same time, drinking in her smile and moves. She remembered him compliment her red dress and the touch of his hand on her breast. Something was wrong.
Felicia’s cough attack interrupted the moment and the rain ceased.
“Your cough is horrible, Woman,” Imre said. “Have you caught something?”
“I’m exhausted. Too much excitement and stress for an old woman like me. You both decide where we should go,” she said. She stood up with an effort and walked a few metres further from Imre and Cherry. She coughed as if she was choking. She wiped her face from the drops of rain, destroying her perfect make-up even more. “Children, you are so occupied with yourselves that you even don’t pay attention to what is going on-we could be on Mars now!” She expelled air with a wheezing sound and her hand pressed against the middle of her chest. “But maybe this is how it should be,” she muttered to herself and her face grimaced like she wanted to throw up.
“Are you ok?” Cherry asked. Her heart leapt and at the same time every particle of her being slowed down.
“I’m fine, Child. I need to tell you something important...You...Cherry...” Felicia smiled peacefully and in that smile sent her whole warmth and care to Cherry. She opened her mouth to say something else but her body suddenly began to fade and she sighed. But it was not her voice, just an echo of a non-existent person. Imre flew over the distance and held Felicia in his arms. He embraced the shadow, the pale representation turning into a cascade of emerald green, glittering stones. They fell down through his arms. A rustle like a waterfall sang about the end of Felicia’s odyssey. Imre retreated, disorientated. He then froze, grabbing the back of his neck, with a growl of his helplessness broke out in the silence. The gems fell apart, changing into shimmering dust, kidnapped by a greedy hand of the wind. It scattered Felicia's emerald ashes over the unfamiliar land. It was an eerie funeral but a majestic grave.
Cherry covered her mouth with her hand, unable to speak, unable to move, observing sheer rage that had exploded into Imre’s eyes. A silent cry nearly ripped apart her chest. The despair created a suffocating tension in her body, restricting her breathing and clouding her head. It was a surreal moment of disbelief. Her only desire was to rewind the whole experience in order to prevent the tragedy that had just passed.
Cherry had lost something important and deep and warm, a real friendship. Glancing at Imre, she could have sworn he had wiped tears from his face.
She stopped crying. Her soul was dry and empty. A shock went through her veins like a sudden freeze. It was as if Cherry was unable to feel anything apart from this tearing sense of loss causing her teeter on the edge of collapse.
“She is dead, isn’t she?” Cherry murmured. ”The mist...the energy has killed her. I don’t understand. She said this was a positive energy. Are we going to die?”
“Don’t panic, Birdie. You’ll be fine,” Imre said sharply as he took a step towards her.
Cherry stepped back, wondering whether he wanted to hug her or kill her, or maybe both. She wanted Imre to hold her in his arms protectively. But instead they both remained motionless, staring at each other, a few steps apart. Imre’s gaze was intense and full of longing; there was something else in his eyes, dread and sadness. For the first time ever, his soft gaze wrapped around her like a warm shawl and he winked at her. Cherry stepped forward to comfort him and extended her arm towards him.
“Step back,” he ordered in a sharp tone.
Cherry moved back as the tiny vibes of her fear tore inside her torpid mind. Her insides screamed, the remnants of her rationality pushed her to escape from the insanity of what was about to happen; her heart keeping her still in anticipation.
Imre elevated his hand and observed it suspiciously for a minute or two. He rubbed his fingers against his chest. And he cursed.
CHAPTER 10
FELICIA WAS DEAD. Cherry realised this as soon as she saw a spark turn into a small flame and seize one of Imre’s fingers. It burnt down quickly, taking a tip of the finger with it as if it had digested it. Imre moved around Cherry, his face sharp and dark, eyes blazing, fangs lengthened.
“I don’t know what to do,” Cherry whispered. She wondered whether or not to take Felicia’s advice seriously and escape from him to somewhere as far away as possible. She decided to stay. Her compassion for him turned out to be stronger than her instinct for survival. “The curse…it’s happening…What should I do?"
“Nothing," he said coldly. He was tense, his face clouded with pain. Studying the damaged part of his hand, he said wryly, "I would never expect it to be so slow. They must have been very pissed with me."
"What are we going to do now? There is nobody here. We must find a healer or psychic for you, to reverse the curse!" Cherry became hysterical.
"Stop talking, foolish Maiden. I'm trying to think," Imre growled. Another spark took a fragment of his left little finger. "Let's go and find some people so I can feed," he said, amongst a torrent of bad language. He grabbed Cherry's hand and pulled her behind him. She thought that she had accepted him treating her like a two year old as perfectly normal. This was something unique, only hers and his. She also thought that she should have shut up. Her words of concern had clearly not helped him. She focused on following him, though the pace was too fast for her and she had to run from time to time.
“Maybe this is my weird dream,” Cherry muttered, catching her breath. “Like the one we had together, about my one eye.”
Imre barked like a dog trained to attack people.
“With you, anything is possible,” he hissed. “Wake up then. I’m losing my fingers. It burns like hell.”
“I can’t wake up,” she cried.
“So at least be quiet. I can’t think now!” Imre stopped for a moment and embraced her in a tight hug, his lips landing on her neck, gifting her with a hard kiss. He did not even ask for her permission. It was as if he had the right to do so, like he possessed her which was surprising and unexpected, especially in the view of his previous declarations about having a wife. She liberated herself from his arms and opened her mouth to ask him a question, but froze, startled by the fury filling his eyes as one more spark damaged his hand. He let out a groan of anger, cursing the two witches responsible for his suffering and fell into Cherry’s arms, almost knocking her over. She stiffened but did not push him away. Her fingers stroked his head as he rested it on her shoulder. She lost balance and fell backwards, with Imre’s body on hers. Her lungs exhaling all her air, she caught another breath with a wheezing effort. Imre’s body pressed against hers and he seemed to look for an escape in her arms. As his pain appeared to subside a bit, he drew her even closer to him, crushing in the embrace, with his lips touching her hair. This was all too much for her and she stifled a cry at first. After, a wail of all her unfulfilled yearning for him, this suppressed jealousy and lost hope of having him for herself only, escaped her mouth as she was unable to fight anymore. He was wild and unpredictable yet she did not want to lose him. She cried because he was dying and she was helpless.
Imre separated himself from her, standing up with difficulty. He offered his hand for the support but she just ignored it, gifting him with her hostile look. Resuming the pursuit, he continued to drag her behind him and she was stunned by his uncontrollable and weird behaviour, tears moistening her face.
They walked briskly, not talking to each other. Cherry did not want Imre to was
te his precious energy on chatting to her. They must have been in this strange place for at least three hours. Their focus now was to find the cure for Imre, very quickly. Cherry’s initially numb and empty brain started working feverishly as she tried to clear her thoughts, putting aside her anger and frustration with Imre, as well as her dread. A rush of adrenaline shot through her body, making her shaky. Within that sensation, an idea began to sprout in her head. She wanted to help Imre despite the fact that all of her difficult emotions were connected with him; driving her mad, moved by his pain and most of all, scared of losing him. There was only one possible solution to their problem and she allowed herself to digest her decision for a few more moments, acutely aware that the path she had just chosen might bring her the worst.
They headed towards the desert. Soon a wood of black, glassy trees with brightly coloured foliage swallowed the dusty red wine of the wasteland. Bright lemon triangles, sparkling trapezoid shapes of turquoise and circular streaks of mauve rustled, creating a sense of calm in the crystal-clear atmosphere, accompanied by a violin-like sound. The ground was covered in a knee-high grass of sea blue and gold which wavered slightly with every gentle kiss of the breeze. As Cherry looked up, she saw butterflies the size of a man’s hand go fluttering above them. They fussed and flapped around her with their majestic, rainbow wings. A few seagull-like startled birds rose from the ground with a soft sound of their white and grey feathers. The wood had an odour like a tea shop, it was a rich blend of smells as if hundreds of varieties of tea were on display at the same time, each with its own pungent aroma. So unusual and interesting, yet the environment did not catch Cherry’s attention.
Imre had already lost two fingers. They had turned into ashes. His cursing and hissing was relentless. Imre’s now grey face clearly expressed the pain he was in as he shuffled along nursing his injured left wrist. Cherry stopped abruptly, putting her hand on his shoulder and holding him back. He glanced at her with a question in his clouded, red eyes.
"I am a freak," she started shyly “I am not entirely a human, I guess. I figured it out when Felicia...when she...I shouldn't have made it so far. Maybe you could feed on my blood. We could at least try...to do something. There is nobody here. We haven’t seen any signs of people so far."
"Are you sure, Birdie. Will you trust me?"
"I don't trust you, but I want to save your life. I don't know where we are or what will happen next. I need you alive. I'm desperate, your company is better than being alone in this odd place. You will die soon and then I will die as well. I don’t think this place is safe for me."
"Fair enough," he said in an exhausted voice and stroked her cheek, his thumb gliding over her lips.
Cherry stepped back; it was a jerk reaction and as her glance met Imre’s she could not understand why he looked at her with reproach. He jumped towards her and grabbed the back of her neck in an almost violent movement, pulling her towards him. He was angry and desperate.
“You are mine,” he growled.
“Ok,” she whispered. Her body trembled.”I’m yours and I want to help. What should I do?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but her legs wobbled. She hoped that she would not die to save his life; not to mention that he was still strong enough to take whatever he wanted from her. Her fear to be alone was greater than her fear of Imre.
Imre chuckled. He did not say anything. He stood right behind her and their bodies met each other. When he put his arms around her, Cherry hissed as the unceasing flame from his hand burnt her skin, leaving a red mark on her body just above her breastbone. He held her chin and gently exposed one side of her throat, sweeping her hair away from her neck. His fingers caressed her skin and stroked her head. Cherry felt a slight brush of his cold lips sending a current through her skin. A sudden flush painted her cheeks, probably a warm red colour. He touched her neck with his lips again and it felt like refreshing rain on a hot, sunny day. As Cherry’s breathing accelerated, her fingers rolled into fists. Imre’s fangs crushed her skin and tore the blood vessels around the bite. She cried when a sharp pain alarmed her senses but soon after a dark sensuousness feeling spread within her. She wanted more. There was a heat inside her that pulsated as her heart fluttered wildly. She was falling down into the dark, tempting chasm and she yearned to learn what would have awaited her at the bottom. Imre was crushing her in a tight hug, as in his lust he fed on her with a wild passion. She wanted to stay in his embrace forever, to feel his hunger for her and the touch of his hand against her skin as it travelled up from her tummy to her breasts.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the heat dissipated only to be replaced by a morbid coldness which invaded her every limb as her body descended to the ground, like a floating snowflake in winter. Imre disappeared.
She lay connected to the world of the living by a thin thread, her limp body stretching on a soft grassy bed. Her breath was shallow and irregular as she inhaled a dark smoke that irritated her nose. Her heart raced. Her dull senses had caught echoes of Imre's pain, followed by an awful silence. The feeding must have failed. She thought that Imre must have been dead. She felt like she was dying with him.
She was now all alone. Too weak to scream or cry, abandoned by everybody. It started with an immature mother, her cheating father; and seemed to be ending with devoted Felicia and fighting-for-survival Imre. She had been a shy, indecisive girl, always satisfying the expectations of others. Deep inside her soul a silent cry welled up, full of self-pity for that little, lonely girl left by every person who had been supposed to look after her. Just as suddenly a spark of realisation appeared and lit up her spirit with an infinite calm. The discovery brought her strength and hope.
“Don’t be scared,” Cherry whispered to herself. Her breaths were laboured, each of them like a deep, wheezing sigh. “I will be with you. I will be your caring friend whatever awaits. You are not alone. You have got yourself.” The vision narrowed and resembled a tunnel. She made her decision. Two people sacrificed their lives to bring her here. She owed it to them to finish the quest. She had a strong desire to learn who she really was- that drove her onward. To go forward, not back. Touching the ground with her numb and cold fingers, she tasted the pure energy of that unfamiliar land. She wanted to heal herself and rise up.
Strong arms lifted her head. A thick fluid dripped into her mouth. Its metallic taste tickled down her gullet, contaminating her chest with a seductive, dark charm. A forbidden blackness infected every cell of her body. It revived, waking the wilderness inside her and a hot passion diffused throughout her body and mind.
Cherry blinked and saw Imre’s face close to hers. He watched her with a tension on his face, sitting beside her. He lifted her upper lip with his finger. Her canine teeth lengthened and the redness poured out of her pupils, the shimmering hint of blood flooding the hyacinth flame of her eyes. She put her palms on his chest, tasting the captivating coolness of his body. She gazed into his eyes, her lips hungry for his. She did not kiss him, although she saw that Imre desired that as much as her. The darkness bubbled inside her, pleasure and freedom surged through her body. She wanted him and lusted after his blood. She pulled at Imre’s t-shirt and helped him to take it off. He smiled with amusement and curiosity, and with happiness. His chest was healed perfectly as were his hands.
Cherry’s claws appeared. She was more than herself. She was in a euphoric desire. Imre’s closeness and scent made her feel intoxicated. She scratched at Imre’s skin below his left collarbone. When a drop of his blood emerged, she brushed it with the tip of her right middle finger and tasted with the longing kiss of her lips. Then she sensed the darkness within her whole being. She sank into that death, its screams and killing. She floated and bathed in this black lack of morality and control as Imre pulled at her t-shirt and took it off. She felt him touching her neck and the area between her breasts, but her eyes were blind with redness whilst her senses were hyperaware. Every brush of his fingers sent a jolt of pleasure to her body and she wanted to drink more
blood. Imre pinned her down to the ground and pulled down her bra to release her breasts which he touched with yearning.
“I’m so hungry,” Cherry whispered.
“You are a freak, Birdie,” Imre said in her ear and started to unbutton her jeans. His lips touched her tummy and his hand travelled where no other man had touched her before.
“No,” she said.”I’m really hungry. I can’t control this. I don’t know whether I want... to be hungry.” But then a basic, animalistic instinct took over her mind and she was all hunger, her ears fishing the friction of blood cells. Her nose perceived only its odour, her tongue still luxuriating in its metallic and tempting taste. She lifted her body to a sitting position as her mind screamed for fulfilment. Capturing Imre’s neck, she brought him closer to her and sank her fangs into his flesh. It felt like she was catching life and death in one, enveloped in this sensual delirium. Imre planted her on his laps, closing her in his arms as she wrapped her thighs around his waist. She heard him gasping and felt his shivering body against hers as his blood poured into her mouth.
A part of her soul vibrated as she absorbed his loneliness and suffering along with the images of beheadings, bodies scattered on a beach, a plane crash. She froze and pushed him. Moving away from Imre rapidly, she wiped away a smear of blood dried around the right corner of her mouth and rubbed her hands stained with his blood. The features of the darkness vanished from her face along with her thirst for blood. And there was only a scream inside her that forced its way through her oscillating chest. Waving her hands to stop Imre from touching her, she realised this burst of her dread and pain of Imre’s ordeal that he had endured. She screamed and Imre’s just sat in front of her and cried, watching her with the helplessness sharpen his face. She screamed until her throat was dry and her voice almost nonexistent.