by Harold Wall
The next hour was one of great amusement for Ash, and one of great exasperation for Quinn, as Rashel prepared for her 'date'. I could only look on with mild astonishment as
Rashel lined her jacket pockets with a plethora of knives, stakes and capsules of strange potions.
In my time I'd only ever been on a couple of dates, none of which had worked out, but never had I once taken a weapon. From what I remembered, my only battle had been with my curling iron, which had refused to do its job properly. But Rashel seemed to be prepared for every possible scenario, against every possible creature that roamed the planet.
With each new knife she concealed within a pocket or boot, Quinn's eyes seemed to get wider, though he never interfered. That was until he caught his soul mate eyeing her
wooden sword that was currently leaning against the wall. "Oh, you are not taking that!" He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. Although Rashel looked tempted to reach
for the sword she didn't argue, only walking to the door.
"Lets go!" She said, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling him out the door in her tow. "We won't be too long," she called over her shoulder, the words reaching us as the door closed
with a final click.
From the corner of my eye I could see Ash shaking his head in amusement. A single lock of hair fell in front of his eyes, making my fingers itch to brush it away.
"Those two never fail to crack me up," Ash said, leaning against the back of the sofa, his posture relaxed and his ankles crossed. I almost could've fooled myself into thinking the
events of earlier had never happened; all the hurt and pain I'd seen on his face were completely gone. Still, the memory was as clear as day, as sharp as a razor, and I couldn't
help but suddenly be very away of the tension between us. The air seemed to be humming with electricity.
"Yeah," I murmured, fidgeting my feet and pulling at a loose thread on my top. My eyes automatically lowered to the floor, pretending to study the expensive wooden slabs.
"Uh, I'm I'm going to go back to my room. Rest up," I said at last, unable to suffer the awkwardness any longer. It made me kind of sad to think that it was now this way between
the two of us. Even when I'd first met him and severely disliked him, I'd never been uncomfortable around him. Always I'd been able to speak freely, or at least be content with the
silence. But now… I didn't know what we had. Broken pieces of a shattered dream.
"Yeah, yeah you should," he replied, just as rigidly. His voice was a paper mask, concealing the longing that lurked beneath.
"Okay, then," I said, clasping my hands in front of me, turning to go. I wanted to say something more. I didn't want to leave it like this, whatever this was. It felt like once the night
had passed and the morning had arrived, there was no going back. The chapter of us will have closed, and a new fresh page would be open. Perhaps a fresh page was exactly what
we needed.
I didn't want to pour my heart out to him, or to tell him about how messed up my head was at the minute, or to forgive him, or anything of real importance. I just wanted to say
something. Perhaps a 'goodnight'. But I could not even do that for my tongue was too frozen, and my mind was too scared. So instead I looked back down once more and left the
room.
"MaryLynette," Ash called, a certain urgency in his words that made me believe his own thoughts had been similar to mine. He was clearly a much braver person than I could ever
be.
I paused midstep, turning my head just enough to meet his eye. It was the first time I had done so since I had ended things. I raised my eyebrows, waiting for what he had to say,
trying to be the picture of calm whilst my heart stumbled through its rhythm in my chest.
"I'm here for you," he said at last. "I will always be here for you."
A small ghost of a smile wisped across my lips. All at once my tongue seemed to free itself from the ice it had been encased in, free to form its words, sentences, masterpiece if it
chose to. But now was not the time nor the place for a masterpiece. "I know," I said, and walked back to the spare room.
I awoke suddenly, my entire being drenched in sweat. I could feel the slice of a dagger across my skin. I had no clue what time it was. The burning of my own flesh and fire running
into my veins. The bed beside me was empty, Rashel was not home yet. Strikingly red lips taunted me with a malicious grin. The room was completely dark save for the faint
yellow glow leaking in from under the door. A ringing laughter that filled every crevice of my skull. Soft snoring drifted in from the bedroom next door, I knew for a fact it was
Nyala. I was being torn apart; half of me stuck in memory, the other half trying to stay afloat in real life.
I knew the blood running down my hands wasn't real, neither was the pain of being burnt alive. The girl with the luscious red lips and silky dark hair was not really sitting at the end
of my bed, and she hadn't really infiltrated every corner of my mind. But I also couldn't ignore how very real it all felt.
I had to clear my head. I sprang up, pushing away the smothering duvet, my feet landing firmly on the wooden floor. I tried to concentrate on the feeling of my toes against the
smooth surface, on the way my weight dispersed evenly, keeping me securely fastened to the ground.
"Go away," I hissed at the imaginary girl sitting at the end of the bed, brushing past her on my way to the door. I didn't look back to see if she was still there. I assumed she
wasn't, as a hallucination, her image ceased to exist the second I was no longer looking. Because that's all she was: a hallucination.
I found myself in the exact same position that I'd been in the night before, in the bathroom across the hall from my room, leaning heavily on the sink, my reflection staring back at me. Only whereas last night I only saw exhaustion, tonight the girl in front of me had a crazed look in her eye.
A layer of sweat gleamed on the girl's forehead, a shiny exterior on an otherwise pale shell. Her eyes were bloodshot, the redness overshadowing the usual blue. Pupils so wide that
I was scared that they would swallow not only the rest of my body, but the entire universe whole. This girl was not me. Not the MaryLynette Carter as I knew her, anyway.
But even this revelation couldn't fully penetrate the chaos inside my head, it did nothing to slow the flames licking at my flesh, or stem the tsunami of blood erupting from my
arteries. I was living inside a nightmare, only with the volume turned right up.
"Breath," I commanded myself, running my hands therapeutically through my tangled hair, not caring how some strands pulled painfully against my scalp. "It's not real, it's all in
your head." It wasn't exactly a comforting thought, but it was better than the alternative.
"Turn on the tap, wash away the blood," I instructed myself. I gripped the tap, letting the water run freely over my hands. The softness of the liquid allowed me a second of peace,
I could focus on the way it caressed my skin, pulling away all the impurities. Though the thick, red blood washed away, the water in the sink remained clear, swirling down the
drain completely transparent.
"Now put out the fire," I told myself, already moving to run my wrists under the cold tap. Instantly the relief spread throughout my entire body, dousing the flames that burned
inside me, reducing them to smoke.
"Turn down the volume," I whispered, knowing it was easier said than done. For a second I tried to forcefully squash the image of the girl, the vivid colours, and to muffle the sound
of the laughter. Straight away I could tell that it was not working, the more I tried, the louder the volume became, the bolder the visions appeared. I wondered if this was what the
blonde witch had been talking about. Was this me burning myself out? And would I end up taking everyone around me out with me?
It felt as if my skull would crack under the pressure of the madness in my brain. Tomorrow someone would find millions of tiny shards of bone, chipped and shattered plates of
skull littering the floor. I could not see how anyone, immortal or otherwise, could survive this insane explosion of activity, unrelenting in its constant bombardment of my senses. I
could barely keep my eyes focused, for my consciousness kept flashing between leaning on the bathroom sink, and sitting at the bar in a club. Like strobe lighting I couldn't make
anything out before the scene changed again, throwing me into a completely different environment.
There was one constant though. Throughout all the chaos, the pain, the madness, that ringing laughter echoed through my head, bouncing off every surface, filling my mind
completely. There was no escaping it. "Get out," I growled, clutching at my hair and scalp with clawed fingers. But on and on it went, no longer sounding like a mere memory, but
now as if it was laughing at me directly, amused at my frustration.
"Get out, get out, get out!" I was sure that I would be driven to insanity by the end of the night. My words came out half screamed, muffled only by my clenched teeth. Worse than
nails being scratched along a blackboard, the manic cackling continued, the howls of hilarity shredding my brain tissue to shreds. It was a drill, slowly but surely digging its way
deeper and deeper.
"Leave me alone!" I dragged my nails down from my hair across my forehead in a mixture of anger and frustration and desperation. Close to tears, I concentrated on the stinging
sensation caused by the scratches, grateful to have something to act as a distraction, if only for an instant.
I dropped to my knees, too dizzy to even hold myself upright. A part of me hoped that I would pass out just so that I wouldn't have to endure this for any longer. The sea of
destruction in my head would continue on its warpath until I was a shivering, dribbling mess on the floor.
Three loud knocks sounded at the door, sharper than gunshots, ringing through the air. My heart lurched painfully at each one, wondering if this was it, the very edge of sanity.
"MaryLynette," Ash's voice sounded worried through the wooden door. "Is everything alright in there?"
"Everything's fine," I replied, my own voice raw and strained, accompanied with a quiver, which I tried so hard to hide.
"Can you open the door for me? Please," he said, clearly not convinced by my weak efforts to reassure him that everything was dandy in here.
"Not really," I replied, panicking at the thought of Ash who was so strong and tough, seeing me in a heap on the floor, tears on the verge of spilling, claw marks running down my
head, eyes crazed and bloodshot. No, there was no way in hell that I would let him see me like this, call it vanity, but it was not going to happen.
"Mare, open this door or I swear to Hecate I will bust it down myself."
"You can't," I stated, my eyes pulled as if by magnetism towards the large wooden bathroom door.
"Like hell I can't," Ash raged, a slight thud vibrating through the door.
"No really," I continued with a shaky breath. "Daphne told me earlier, this place is like a fortress. Every door is impenetrable to all creatures, made up of wood, silver, iron, steel,
you name it. You are not getting through that door, Ash."
I heard a sigh, followed by the sound of Ash sliding down the door. "Bloody Daybreakers," he muttered. A small giggle rose in my throat.
Then there was silence.
Silence. It took me a good few seconds before I fully grasped the meaning of this. I didn't know at which point it had happened, but the laughter, the pressure, the chaos, it had all
stopped. It was all gone, just like that. I was completely alone in my own head; with so much space that it felt as if my mundane thoughts could no longer fill such an expanse.
I felt a little lost. Not lost in the sense of not knowing where I was, not like the time I wandered off in the park and couldn't find my way home. Just lost in the way I sometimes felt
when looking at the stars, when it would suddenly hit me just how vast the universe really is. Lost in the sense that I just needed something to hold onto.
"Do you have a phone?" I whispered, so quiet that the words would not have been picked up by mere human ears. But I knew that Ash would hear me all the same.
"Yes," he replied, matching my whispered tone. I was grateful; I would feel terrible if I woke Nyala up by accident. "Can I use it?" I asked. "Please?"
"Of course," he said, and I could hear the beginnings of a smile in his voice. "But you'll have to open the door for me to give it to you."
"Okay."
I began to shuffle my way to the door, having too little energy to stand up and walk like any normal person would. If someone were to see me now, I could only imagine what a
pitiful sight they would see.
I stretched up to the turn the lock, before opening the door just a crack. I was careful to position myself so that Ash would not be able to see me from his angle.
He didn't try to open the door further, or try to come in, or make a fuss, he simply placed the cell phone in my hands, his fingertips barely brushing mine in the transition. "Thank
you," I whispered, closing the door gently once the phone was in my possession.
I scooted back away from the door, far enough that my back soon collided with the bathtub. The cell in my hands, although nothing more than a collection of plastic and wires,
acted as a tether, connecting me to everyone and everything.
My fingers danced across the keypad, tapping in the numbers that I had long since memorised. "Hello," a wary voice answered after just three rings.
"Hey," I breathed, relief flowing through me at the sound of his voice. I hadn't even realised that I'd been so worried about him till this moment. I hadn't been gone long, but in that
time who knows what could have happened, he could've been struck down by lightening, hit by a car, fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. Of course I knew that all of my
concerns were silly and unneeded seeing as he'd survived thus far.
"MaryLynette is that you?" Mark asked, disbelief evident in his tone. I guessed that he'd probably found out about my sudden disappearance by now, and I felt guilty for causing
him such worry. Yet a part of me wondered whether I should break off my connection with Mark too, just as I'd done with Ash. The last thing I wanted was for my little brother to
be hurt because of me.
"Yeah it's me. I'm with Ash, Rashel and Quinn, but I can't tell you where."
"Oh my god, are you okay? You're not hurt or anything are you?" He panicked, and I could picture the way his fingers would be tapping nervously on his knee, like the way they
always did when he was stressed about something. "I'm fine," I reassured him, my voice steadier than it had been all night. It wasn't exactly a lie. I hadn't been physically hurt or
anything, apart from a bit of a bashed head from last night, as well the bite marks in my neck and some slight bruising in places I hadn't even realised I'd bashed. So maybe I'd
been hurt just a little bit, but all of that paled in comparison to the ordeal I'd just been through. Maybe it was just a side effect of my apparently tainted blood.
"Are you sure?" He asked, not sounding at all convinced. "Because Kestrel told me that when Jade says she's fine, it doesn't actually mean she is fine, it's just the word people use
when they really have a whole tonne of shit on their plate and are unsure about whether you actually want to listen to all of it. I don't mind listening to all of your shit, Mare. I'm
here for you."
I smiled at the thought of Kestrel giving Mark life lessons. It gave me hope that he would have people to rely on even if I wasn't there. Perhaps it was a sign that I really should
give him up.
"Seriously, I'm goo
d, Mark. There's no need to worry. I'm just a little tired, that's all, and maybe a little bit sad."
"If there's anything I can do, tell me. Even it's something completely crazy, like, I don't know, getting you a pink elephant."
"Why would I need a pink elephant?"
"I don't know. It was the only crazy thing I could think of."
I smiled at that, unable to help myself. In the life that Mark and I had somehow stumbled upon, in every day life there were things much crazier than a simple pink elephant.
"You don't need to do anything crazy," I continued, still smiling slightly. In truth, what I needed was for someone to tell me what the hell was going on, or for someone to give me a magical remedy that would stop my head from trying to implode. I needed to know why my blood was apparently tainted, and to find out what that meant for me, and what it meant for everyone close to me. I needed for someone to give me a time machine so that I could go back to just a couple of days ago when things were complicated, but when I
still had Ash and everything was good between us. But I doubted Mark could give me anything of those things, and even if he could I didn't want him involved in such dangerous,
complex matters. So instead I said, "Can you just talk to me?"
"Sure," he replied, all the way from the outskirts of Vegas where I'd undoubtedly woken him up from a pleasant slumber. "About what?" He asked.
I shrugged my shoulders, and then realising that he wouldn't be able to see me, just said, "I don't know. The first thing that comes to your head."
There was a moment of silence where I could practically hear the cogs turning in Mark's head. Finally he began to speak. "Okay. Do you remember that time we went to that fair,
we'd seen a flyer for it in town and begged Dad for weeks to let us go?"
"You poked me really hard in the ribs to make me cry and then told Dad that I was upset because he said we couldn't go. You felt guilty for months afterwards, even though it was my idea in the first place. I remember," I said; still after all this time, I was particularly fond of the memory.
"Yeah, that's the one. We thought we were evil masterminds for devising such a plan." We both laughed before Mark continued. "God, I swear that was one of the best nights of my