by Elyse Draper
"I was hoping darkness had taken me; but when I felt the pressure on my chest, I forced my eyes to open and focus through my tears. Ann was kneeling over me, supporting herself with one hand on my chest, and with the other she was stroking Lune’s fur, telling him it was okay to release me. His tongue was soft as it pressed against my esophagus, giving him leverage to pull his teeth out of my neck. The pressure stopped, but the burning didn’t … I was sure that I was going to bleed out. As my thoughts cleared a little more, I realized that if he had punctured an artery … I’d already be dead.
"Ann, still very pale … her complexion had a grey tint, as if she was the one who had lost all of her blood. She put her head on my chest, and whispered, ‘I forgive you’, as she passed out. I reached up to examine the damage, Lune’s bite had rolled over the jugular and missed any major veins, but I was still bleeding freely. He knew exactly what he was doing … just enough to take the fight out of me. At the same time, he knew he’d have to take me close to death to pull me away from V’s control permanently. The gouges along my jaw were bleeding worse than the punctures on my neck. The cuts from Lune's claws opened up to almost an inch when I flexed my jaw muscles.
"I slid out from under Ann, and ignoring the amount of my blood on the floor, I picked her up and moved her to the couch. She still had a pulse, but, by her color, she looked like she shouldn’t. Lune watched us cautiously from the corner of the room … making sure I didn’t have a relapse. Walking to the kitchen, I grabbed a towel and dampened it with hot water, and then placed it on Ann’s head. I was going to have to try and fix what I’d done … but I couldn’t do anything if I passed out from blood loss, so I went into her bathroom in search of a first aid kit. Then I searched the kitchen junk drawer until I found a tube of superglue, and returned to the bathroom to dress my wounds.
"I scrubbed my injuries with soap, and then soaked them in peroxide. After gluing the cuts closed, I covered them with butterfly bandages, to keep them from tearing open when I moved my jaw. Then I packed the punctures with antibiotic ointment and covered them with large, cotton bandages that I held in place with tape. I had almost used up the entire box of cotton bandages trying to stop the bleeding. Looking in the mirror, I was pleased the swatches of sterile, white mesh stayed white. I turned to find Lune, still cautious, standing in the doorway; he flashed the image of Ann laying on the couch into my head. We had a connection now … and it wasn’t going to go away any time soon.
"Returning to the couch, I picked up Ann’s hand. She seemed so fragile. I concentrated on every memory I had taken, and a wave of nausea overcame me as I relived what I’d done. I ran to the kitchen, and stood over the sink until the queasiness passed. Cursing myself for being so weak, I returned to Ann’s side. Biting back my emotions, I focused on Ann again, and returned everything I taken.
"For good measure, I sucked the venom of V’s mind out of Ann's memories, and into my own. That was when I heard Ellie’s voice the first time … quietly whispering questions, asking me how I could allow myself to become such a monster.” Obviously shaken, Christopher looks down at the table, whispering the last sentence.
Still tasting my anger, I try to hide it from my voice, “What about V?”
“He hadn’t left; I could feel him trying to force himself on me. Before my connection to Lune, his presence was like a polar bear lying on my chest … but after Lune’s attack, he felt more like a mosquito buzzing around my face. I don’t claim to understand why V no longer had any power to manipulate me; but I think the connection to Lune, and Ellie’s consciousness, built walls that were impenetrable to V. I remember thinking that the walls may not last long. I had already taken four or five hours to dress my wounds and work on Ann; and I had a feeling that my time was running out.
"I silently asked Lune what he thought I should do. Images of the venom I’d pulled from Ann came to me, and then came images of what I’d done to Ann from Lune’s perspective, making me feel sick again. I understood immediately what he was showing me.
“I honed in on V’s position, and using the venom of his thoughts as a diving rod, I searched his mind for the collection of his power, the pool of ecstasy built from everything he had absorbed. I bit back a laugh, as I realized that the only reason why I could take him by surprise was because James protected the information that I could enter the minds of ethereal creatures. James had his revenge; he would have enjoyed the damage I planned to inflict. And, I did do damage … a lot of it. I pulled his memories going back at least a century, before he realized what I was doing. And I pulled another century before he could stop me. His ravenous fantasies became my sickening nightmares to endure. Both Lune, and the Ellie in my mind, told me it was what I deserved.
“Unexpectedly, my invasion into his mind was more effective than I could have imagined. Between my defenses, and draining him of his substantial rations, he withered into a type of hibernation. Looking at him through Lune’s eyes, I realized Lune knew this would happen …V felt like a starving vampire, whose fangs had just been pulled.
“I didn’t know how long V would remain powerless, so I decided to work as quickly as possible. I finished pulling all of the remaining poisons from Ann, leaving her with the memory of V … but without any of the pre-existing fear. I couldn’t protect her entirely, but I turned her into a much less satisfying meal for V. Then I went through her office searching for the information I needed to finish my plan. Not really wanting to come with me when I left, Lune stayed behind to keep an eye on her. I understood; if she woke, I, too, wanted her to be greeted by a friendly face.
“Returning to James’s apartment one last time, I collected everything I had brought from Colorado, and the few items I’d purchased since arriving in Vegas. I didn’t want to take anything with me that wasn’t mine. Then on James’s computer, I arranged his various anonymous offshore bank accounts, and transferred them all to Ann’s bank account using the information I had stolen from her office. Ann had just won the lottery and didn’t even have to guess at any numbers. I knew there would be heavy taxes, but that was okay, at least she would have some extra monetary security for a little while.
“Taking the entire night, I covered every inch of the penthouse, wiping every surface with bleach. Scrubbing under the beds, around the toilets, I tried to meticulously destroy all traces of Lune’s and my existence. I knew I’d already taken care of our link to James’s family, and for the first time I was actually glad for what had happened that night at the hotel … not only for me, but also for Ann. After loading my car with my belongings, I did a quick walk-though to make sure I wasn’t going to leave anything behind. Just one more thing and I could completely wipe away Christopher Ross from existence.
“I found all of my legitimate identification and drove to my bank, where I cashed out every bit of money I had, totaling about thirty-two thousand dollars. Then I found a dark alley and burned everything and anything that was tied to me … to my given name, including the Jefferson County library card that I’d had since I was ten years old. When I crawled back into my car, I opened the manila envelope that Ann had given me two weeks earlier, on James’s orders. That is when I found out my new identity. I looked down at my picture on impeccable, false identification: driver's license, passport, birth certificate, and credit cards. I started shaking my head, the knots in my stomach tightening more painfully … James had come to my rescue once again with contacts and the fifty thousand dollars to pay for my new identity; all so I could recreate myself.
“I was now Christopher Roderick, but that knowledge didn’t ease my mind. Whoever wished for, and thought they could actually experience a ‘fresh start’, never lived enough to understand … there is no such thing.” Christopher finishes with a shake of his head, a motion that speaks to his past naivety over the power of mental burdens.
I am trying to let all this information sink in, but failing miserably… “Thirty thousand dollars didn’t buy you this cabin.”
“No, no it didn�
�t. That would be Ann’s doing. She split James’s money between us.” I am in wonder at Ann’s generosity and kindness; forgiving Christopher … I wouldn’t have, if I were in her shoes.
“How much money do you have?” I feel rude for asking, but given the story I just heard, my manners are nonexistent.
“In cash … I have around six million. I deposited the thirty thousand from my old bank account, and pay taxes on that, just like everyone else. No red flags … no one is the wiser.”
“No red flags? You’re covered in red flags!”
“No, I’m not … you see them because you’ve actually watched me personally … but on paper, I’m nothing special. Why do you think Lune and I are here … why we choose to live as hermits?”
I have to agree grudgingly, and I know I will have to stomach the consequences of keeping all of his illegal secrets. Deciding to side with ignorance, I don’t ask any more questions about the money or how he acquired his identity. Surprising even myself, I have to admit that I am obviously accepting what he told me, and I am willing to continue covering for him … but I have to know two more things.
“Is Ann all right?” I don’t know why I’ve become attached to this stranger, but her wellbeing has become extremely important to me.
“Yes, she is okay. She says, in many ways she feels better than she has since her parents’ death … when James and V entered her life. Thanks to my insight though, I know that a very large part of her pride will never be the same again … because of my betrayal. She says she forgives me, and she honestly believes that she has … but I hurt her deeply, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”
My heart quickens as I ask the next question, not knowing if I am ready for the answer. “You know as well as I do that V will be coming for you … what can we do to prepare for his attack?”
**~~**
Part Two
Ellie
**~~**
Chapter 10
Mentor
*Ellie*
I’ve never felt warmth like this … the granules of sand pressed between my toes, warms my feet, and the heat radiates up my legs. Everything has changed; those precious twenty-four hours I spent solid and touchable with Christopher changed me.
I can’t believe that just three nights ago, I was able to see him after all this time apart. At least, I think it was him; now that I think about it that wouldn’t be the first time my imagination created him for me to hold. This time was different though, I could feel him, actually smell him, and he had a dog with him that certainly was not Lune. She was beautiful, pure white with eyes that held unimaginable wisdom. Strangely, I think she was the one who called me back to Gothic. I’ve seen so many unexplainable things since I left Christopher; I’m just not sure that I wasn’t dreaming, but I’m grateful for the memory.
I have to smile at my memories of the past nine months: Japan, India, and Africa, traveling, finding more … like me. Most of the creatures were benign --deciding not to interfere with humanity. Many were good people once, but grew too tired of humanity's self-destructive nature to interact anymore. The ones that do interact are mischievous … some good, some bad … mostly all very strange.
Imagine my astonishment to find that I was the only one they’d heard of, in a very long time, passing entirely through the veils between the realms. Everyone thought I was insane when I asked how it was possible. They laughed at my innocence when I told them, “Someone had answered my prayers, and allowed me to hold Christopher.”
Virtually all of the creatures I met laughed, except for a select few insightful ones, such as Cassandra. As withdrawn and ancient as she is, she never turned away from me, never ridiculed me. Cassandra took me on as her student; she became my mentor, and my friend. Christopher would be pleased to know that I am working with her … learning from her.
I can feel the sun’s last rays as it sets. I look out over the sea, and the sun’s farewell kiss has lit the sky on fire. So much has changed, especially now that I am starting to understand what I am.
“Ellie, just because you can leave footprints in the sand, doesn’t mean you should. One of these days, you’re going to attract unwanted attention from all the wrong people.” Listening to Cassandra’s thick Greek accent always makes me smile, but not today; the frustration of her not telling me who the 'wrong people' are, is grating on my nerves.
“Cassandra, how long since the last time you had someone to talk to regularly?” I know asking her certain questions, only brings back awful feelings, but her secretive nature is making me bad-tempered.
In the 2,800 years since Homer wrote of the terrible turns in her life, and death, Cassandra has spent most of her time trying to understand that her powers of perception have nothing to do with a god. She dutifully watched others discover their “talents”, and with her observations came the realization that she wasn’t actually insane.
The emotions, which bubble up in response to my question, leave my brain feeling woozy, and a taste develops in the back of my throat … acidic and sour. Cassandra has the most powerful mind I’ve ever felt, intimidating and at times cruel; she can pick and choose the information I’m allowed to perceive.
The calm that I feel, when she tunes me out, has given me the opportunity to finally rest my frayed senses. But, over the past three months, the silence … after so many years of emotional, noisy clatter has left me lonelier than ever before. Who knew I’d miss feeling everything others felt, and hearing their thoughts echoing in my head, slamming my spine with gut-wrenching, volatile emotions.
Alone, I never realized that my sensitivity to others has always been as much a crutch, as a curse. Now, in the calm, I find Christopher -- breaking my heart and twisting my innards. My longing for him is crippling me.
Cassandra always says my feelings for 'that boy' are a weakness that will be used against me someday. She chastises me every time I mention him, especially telling me not to talk about what I accomplished to be with him: making myself real. She really hates the fact that I’m in love with a mortal man, the “Mortos” as she calls the living, “He can never truly love a Ho Thanatos." She constantly refers to us as Ho Thanatos, meaning ‘death that cannot die’. I’ve tried to explain my theory that we are “living” … just in another plane of consciousness from the humans around us. She won’t listen, always mumbling something about magic and curses. And usually, before disappearing for days at a time, she’ll curse men for existing in any plane of consciousness.
Cassandra isn’t mumbling this time, nor walking away; she just stands next to me… fuming. “You’ve been reaching out again, touching the Mortos' minds again.” This isn’t a question; it is a statement that brings up images of death … gnarled and burned, the images that remind me of when London fell during the Blitz. Burning flesh, the corroding taste of consumed emotions, hitting me in the chest; I see the demise of my human family.
Dropping to my knees, I dig my fingers into the sand, praying that its vanishing warmth will drag me back to reality, drag me back to life. “Why are you punishing me? I help people. I love to interact and support people.”
The sensation eases as Cassandra speaks, “You’ve already drawn too much attention … they will feel your mind searching. She will feel your mind searching. I cannot help you if you do not listen! You have to stop reaching out with your mind.”
“But, I’m so lonely … I miss connecting.”
“You don’t miss humans! You miss the sensation of living … but existing vicariously through Mortos, is not living. Why can’t you wrap your little head around that? You are not Mortos any longer … you are Ho Thanatos now! We are completely different creatures from them. Are you willing to perish for people who will never acknowledge your kindness or compassion?” She spits the last words at me, and yet, still won’t give me even the slightest clue as to who sparked such fear in her soul.
“I’m sorry, Cass … I promise not to do it again. But please, won’t you tell me why, or who, I�
�m supposed to be so bloody suspicious?”
“No, Ellie, you’re not ready. You can’t control your temptations, or ego … they will find you, and that will be the death of us both.”
Her tone softens, and the images in my mind all but disappear. “Imagine you are a fish that can talk, and when you’re on land, you can even walk. Now imagine that, since you are in both worlds of sea and land … the fish can find you, and man can find you. What if there are those in your sea environment, those that see you as a threat … possibly giving away their precious secrets? And what would some men want to do to you … a walking, talking fish? You have to be careful, Ellie, whatever you think your existence means … you are powerful, and there are those in both worlds that want to hurt you."
For the first time in our relationship she reaches out and takes my hand, lifting me off of my knees; the rush of emotions that are expressed in our touch is under incredible control, but I can feel Cassandra's compassion and consideration filling the cells in my brain. “I don’t punish you, Ellie … I just give you glimpses of the premonitions I’ve watched come to fruition over the years. My ‘talent’ and yours are very much alike; I feel as much as see the events that will take place … that have already taken place. I’m not punishing you; I’m just showing you my world, in hopes that you will listen to me when I tell you something … no questions asked.”
The realization of her pain, dealing with the vicious cruelty of humanity, watching as the Mortos learn newer and more efficient ways of torturing one another … almost three thousand years of watching, sensing, knowing what will happen. My respect grows for her in ways I never expected; more than anything I am in awe that she is still sane.
“I never realized, what you were showing me were events that you had watched come to pass. Christopher would have seen the amazing quality of the images you show; I am ashamed that I didn’t realize how personal and important what you were showing me was.” So much needs to be said, but I am at a loss. So I turn back into her humble student, hoping to show her that I am ready to listen.