Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  Liam sighed as he listened to the sound reasoning of one so sheltered, so innocent. But her morality and ability to empathize with others might do more harm than good. Such a good-hearted person might not be long for this cruel world.

  “But something did take it away,” she continued. “Something cruel and evil. And when she looked at my face, she saw that evil all over again... Her family was taken, along with everyone she’s ever known. I can’t blame her for hating me.” She looked up at Liam, waiting expectantly for him to look back at her. When he did, she ran a hand through her white hair, then traced a finger between her eyes and down across her black lips.

  “These features,” she said. “No matter where I go I’ll never outrun them. To others, they are a symbol of hate. The world is full of Bredas, each with her own tales of suffering at the hands of someone like me. No matter where we go, I’ll always be hated. I accept that. It’s something I can never change.”

  “Oh, my dear,” Liam said, sadness in his eyes as he gently stroked her hair. “I know it feels like that now, but I promise you that someday—” Her sudden fit of coughing cut him off. “Dear, are you all right?” he asked, aggressively patting her on the back, fearing she may be choking. It escalated quickly, her body convulsing, wracked with violent coughs. His concern rising to alarming levels, he pulled the wagon over and proceeded to slap her on the back.

  “Get...away,” she hissed, pushing on his chest to put distance between them.

  “What are you talking about? What’s wrong?!” he said, hand fighting with the suddenly very strong girl.

  “Get away from me! You have to run!” she blurted, her scattered, hissing voice assaulting Liam’s ears from all directions at once. He released her wrists, gazing into the eyes of a being he no longer recognized. Her coughing had stopped, and now she just glared at him, black veins pulsing beneath her pale skin. They spidered along her neck, creeping upward across her face. “Run,” she said weakly, her red eyes flaring wide open. It was clear she was quickly losing control.

  Liam shook his head. “It’s too late for that,” he said, a stoic look on his face. “Even if I ran right now, it would be impossible to put enough distance between us. The thirst is already upon you, and neither of us can stop it.”

  Chest clenching with tightness, she hugged herself as guttural, choking sounds bubbled up from her throat. “You have to kill me,” she said, her voice nothing but a raspy growl. “Do it now!”

  Liam slowly reached beneath his shirt and unsheathed his dagger. He looked at it a long while, turning it back and forth against his palm. “I can’t do that,” he said calmly, a kind of peaceful tranquility washing over him.

  “I’ll do it,” she gasped, grasping at the blade. “Give me the knife and look away. I don’t want you to see this!”

  He shook his head again, then dragged the blade’s edge across his wrist. Blood began to flow. It trickled down his forearm as he raised the wound near Viola’s face. “You must drink,” he said, voice as calm as she’d ever heard him. “We are out of options now. There is no other way.”

  “I can’t,” she said in a gurgling, strangled voice. “What if I can’t stop?”

  “I’m dead either way,” he said. “If you refuse my offer, then the thirst will only get worse. It will eat at your mind until you lose all control. Your body will react on its own, no different than when you killed that wolf. You’ll go into a raging bloodlust, most likely tearing me apart. As your body obeys its primal need to feed, you will be powerless to resist it. But still, you will be present of mind the entire time. You will be in the moment, looking into my eyes as I die. And worse, you will remember all of it. I say this not to frighten you, but to make you see the reality of the situation.” He held out his bleeding wrist once more. “I trust you, even if you don’t trust yourself.”

  Hands trembling, throat burning, she grasped the bloody offering. Clasping her lips around the open wound, she began to drink. Never had she tasted anything so sweet in her life. The nectar of a million berries burst in her mouth at once, its sweetness coating her tongue, rushing down the back of her throat. Years of chemical-induced alchemy had kept these primal urges in check. Now, released in full for the very first time, the sensation came like a tidal wave of satisfied desires. Like deaf ears hearing music for the first time, the blissful reaction was unexplainable.

  Lying naked in a grass field, her body tingled with hot energy. Breaking through the sparse clouds, the shining sun warmed her, filling her with life. A gentle breeze whistled through the nearby trees, rattling the leaves while cooling the beaded sweat on her body. She arched her back, knees melting apart as her legs spread. One hand reached back, fingers entangled in a fistful of her white hair, the other slipping across her stomach, sliding down between her legs.

  Her shivering body rattled with ecstasy, her wet tongue sliding across her dark lips. Her hips rose off the ground, slick moisture gathering between her fingers. Slipping one finger inside herself, she moaned, hips rising even higher. Her body grew hot, sweat trickling from her temples. How could she have been deprived of such joy for so long?

  Her whole hand already glistening with wetness, she worked her finger in and out. With panting breath, her other hand cupped her breast, rolling and pinching a hardening nipple. Her body was on fire, a strange combination of pleasure and scorching heat flooding through her veins. She opened her eyes momentarily, glancing up to see a white-haired figure gazing down on her. His lips moved in silence; only the sounds of rattling leaves touched her ears.

  “What?” said Viola, her mind suddenly spiraling with confusion and doubts. What was all this? How did she get here in the first place?

  The familiar old face moved closer to hers, coming into clear focus. “You’re killing me,” he rasped, eyes set deep, skin turning gray.

  “Liam!” she shrieked, a suddenly alert mind fighting to regain control.

  “No!” she screamed, tearing her lips away from Liam’s wrist. The effort it took to stop was gargantuan. Even now, her desperate eyes couldn’t stop staring at the open wound, her body craving to finish what it started. The old man fell back against the seat, wide-open eyes staring at the sky. “Liam! Liam, speak to me!” she wailed, shaking his shirt collar. “No. Oh please, no,” she cried, rolling her forehead back and forth across his chest. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you just kill me when I gave you the chance?” she sobbed, fists beating on his chest.

  “I’m not dead,” came his weak reply, glassy eyes beginning to blink. “But I will admit, I’ve seen better days.” With a squeal of joy she threw herself against his chest, arms wrapping the back of his neck. “Easy. Easy now,” he groaned, trying to push the excited girl away but failing on all fronts. “I said I’m not dead, but your jumping on me like this is pushing me ever closer to the grave.”

  She finally backed off, taking a good look at him for the first time. With heavy eyes and pale skin, he did certainly appear to be at death’s door. “Oh, Liam,” she said, flopping back against the seat. “I am so so—”

  “Don’t say it,” he cut her off. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. It was my idea after all, and all things considered, I’d say my idea worked quite well.” He winked, prompting a weak smile from the distressed girl. “You regained control before it was too late, as I knew you would. I imagine that wasn’t easy, and commend your solid display of self-control.”

  “But I almost didn’t,” she replied in shame, eyes looking away.

  He reached out, lifting her chin with a curled knuckle, imploring her to look at him. “But you did,” he reminded. “And that is all that counts.” He placed his hand on the back of her wrist. “This time it was human blood. Unless I miss my guess, you should be sustained for much longer this time. But it will still happen again. Sooner or later we’ll need to address—”

  “What is going on here?” came Owen’s gruff voice. That beast of his certainly moved quietly when it wanted to. They looked up to see the hunter high on
his mount seated only a few feet from the side of the wagon. “Is everything all right? Why did you stop?” Instinctively, Viola wiped at her mouth, not sure if any lingering blood remained. Liam rolled his hand, trying to conceal the wound as best as he could.

  “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” Liam said, only stretching the truth a tad. With his pale face and shallow breathing, he looked every bit the part of a very sick man. “Viola here is going to steer the wagon the rest of the way.” She flashed Liam an incredulous look before nodding at Owen.

  The hunter’s suspicious gaze bounced back and forth between them. “Then let’s get moving,” he said at length, turning his great beast around. “It’s not far now. You can rest once we find my companions.”

  “Very well,” Liam replied. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Owen glanced back, this time blatantly staring at Liam’s turned wrist. “Right...” he said, digging both heels into his lavics, sending it lumbering back up into the lead position.

  “He knows,” Viola gasped, nervously wringing the bottom of her shirt.

  “Does it matter?” Liam asked, allowing her to crawl over the top of him to trade seats. “You said yourself that we’re a family. To be honest, I shouldn’t have tried to hide it from him.” He placed the reins into her hands. “Now, do you know how this works?” he asked, hopeful.

  Her panicked look told him all he needed to know. “Nuh uh,” she said, shaking her head back and forth.

  He reached across and gripped both reins in one hand. “He-ah,” he barked, giving them a hard snap. Viola rocked back against the seat as the wagon lurched forward. “Then you’ll learn the same way I did. On the job.” He reached into the back, retrieving his goat-skull staff. “I’ll need some time to recoup my strength,” he said, closing his eyes, his staff positioned upright between his legs. “I would like to believe that I won’t wake up...dead. I hope my small request isn’t too ambitious for you.” White gems embedded in the eye sockets of his staff began to glow, the soft light seeming to wash over his body from head to toe.

  “Liam,” she said, getting tossed around as the wagon zigzagged down the road. “Liam!” she repeated, this time with more urgency. It was no use. Whatever trancelike state had taken over his body, it was obvious he had fully succumbed to it. She gulped, holding the reins up high near her face. Remembering what she saw the old man do, she gave them another snap, hoping that would calm them down. It didn’t...

  With a collective whinny, the horses picked up speed. The wagon rocked and rattled, weaving from one side of the road to the other. “Bad horses! Stop that,” she yelled, trying her best to reason with the unruly animals. Without the slightest hint of being disturbed, Liam’s unconscious body swayed back and forth through the chaos.

  The wagon cut a sharp left, lifting two wheels up off the ground. Instinctively, Viola pulled the right rein to counter. It worked...a little too well. This time they cut a hard right, nearly tipping the other way. But the pattern was clear to her now. No longer committing to yanking one rein or the other, she eventually found a balance between the two.

  Moving straight for the first time, she looked up to see Xavier staring back at her, eyes wide with a gaping mouth. Again, that feeling of heat rose in her face. Such a bothersome sensation that was. She grinned, trying to convince him she had everything under control. His open mouth shut, then quickly turned to laughter.

  Owen snapping his fingers drew his attention away from Viola. After flashing a series of hand signals, the hunter pointed off to the right. Xavier turned back to Viola, a far more serious expression on his face this time. “We’re going off road,” he called. “Follow us and try to stay close.” She nodded, trying her best to look more confident than she felt.

  Owen led the way, his beastly mount trampling down brush, mauling its way through the thick shrubbery. Xavier had little troubling following the wide, self-made trail. But Viola found it to be a daunting task. The wagon swayed back and forth, wobbling its way over uneven clumps of dirt. The metal wheels dug deep into the soil, digging trenches while skidding along. She did what she could to keep it straight, occasionally scraping against the rough bark of a thick tree. After each rasping, cringe-worthy scrape, she found herself glancing at Liam, concerned he may wake up at any moment to scold her.

  Mercifully, they broke into a wide-open clearing and came to a halt. Owen gazed around for a time, considering his surroundings. “Yup, this will work,” he said, leaping down off his mount.

  “Ah, good,” said Liam, reaching up into a long, exaggerated stretch. “I’m anxious to finally meet some people who aren’t trying to kill us.”

  “How long have you been awake?” Viola questioned accusingly.

  “Long enough, I suppose,” he admitted, hopping down off the side. “Now, to assess the damage you caused after hitting those trees.” He disappeared around the side, leaving Viola with her arms crossed, pouting. “Shall we set up camp?” Liam called out, anticipating being needed to aid in building another fire.

  “No need,” Owen answered, just as the ground began to rumble. “They’re already here. Brace yourselves!”

  The rumbling grew in intensity, soon resembling the shocks of an earthquake. Both Viola and Liam clung to the wagon, their grips weakening, fingers quickly going numb. Owen and Xavier backed away from the center, their warrior stability and keen sense of balance keeping them on their feet—barely...

  The grass peeled downward, as if something was removing the soil from underneath. Seconds later, a large object erupted from the ground. Dirt and gravel burst in all directions, showering everyone with sandy grit. “Well, it’s about time ye showed,” Owen barked, before spitting out a bit of dirt.

  Strongly resembling a green clam with hairy whiskers, the giant bud slowly opened. What looked like a long tongue rolled out invitingly, stretching flat across the ground. “Take only what you need,” said Owen, pulling two sacks off his lavics before smacking it in the rear, sending it away. “Our mounts know exactly where to go and wait for us. But we won’t be needing that wagon anymore.”

  After gathering a few meager things from under the canopy, Liam set about unhinging the horses. After allowing Viola a moment to pet them one last time, he sent them running off into the woods. In her mind, the short time driving the wagon had become a bonding experience for her and the animals. She was sorry to see them go.

  Owen led the way, aggressively wiping his feet on the tongue before disappearing into the green clam. The others followed, Liam and Viola displaying a bit of apprehension, more than taking their time. The tunnel was dark. Warm rushing air blew their hair forward and back, as if this thing was actually breathing. The strange sensation did nothing to ease their anxiety.

  “Come on then,” came Owen’s voice, echoing through the darkness. “Quite yer stalling already.”

  Viola made the mistake of touching the wall while attempting to stay balanced on the wet, meaty carpet. The wall was sticky and moist, prompting her to grab onto the back of Liam’s shirt instead. With slow, subtle strokes, she tried to wipe the slime on his shirt without him noticing. Through the darkness, they could see a faint light just up ahead. Within that light, the shadowed outline of Owen’s large frame was apparent. With a wave he urged them on before disappearing into the light.

  “It’s all right,” Xavier said, politely slowing his pace in order to match theirs. It was obvious how uneasy these two were. “I promise you there is nothing to fear. Soon, you will both be among friends.”

  A moment later they stepped into the light where Owen was waiting for them. He looked agitated as always, tapping his foot impatiently. The walls here were pinkish red with a glistening wet look, almost as if they were trapped inside of a watermelon. “We need to work out a better system!” he grunted to no one. “Do have any idea how long it took us to find you? Do you hear me, Thatra?” With a wet crackling sound, a sort of door split open from the side wall. In truth, the belching movement in the wall gave t
he appearance of watching the back of a person’s throat as they swallowed.

  A small green creature hobbled through, its large white eyes with no pupils fixed on Owen. Just above his ears were two horns, thick and curled back like a ram’s, similar to the ones on Liam’s staff. His stringy garment looked to be made of dried vines, or some other such vegetation. He rushed at Owen, looking at first as if he might be attacking. Grabbing the hunter’s shoulder, he began tugging and pulling, awkwardly trying to remove the black body armor.

  “It’s good to see you too, Orfi,” said Owen with a roll of his eyes, dipping his shoulder to aid in the aggressive removal of his armor and weapons. “What’s that? Oh, our journey was fine. It’s not like laberaths and dead people be trying to kill us or anything. Nope, just an easy, peaceful journey. But thank you for asking.” Both Viola and Liam began snickering at the odd, one-sided conversation. Xavier began removing his own weapons, both swords from his back as well as the rows of leather straps from his chest that housed his half-moon daggers.

  With Owen’s gear in hand, the little creature hopped over to Xavier, who added his own weapons to the top of the pile. Frowning down at the gear, Orfi turned, practically running for the exit. “It was nice talking with you, Orfi,” called Owen, standing there in nothing but his boots and pants. The front and back of his upper body were covered with scars, and one could only assume that probably held true for his lower body as well.

  “Um...that was Orfi,” said Xavier, trying to clarify what that strange transaction was all about. “He does all the maintenance on our gear. In fact, he engineered most of what we carry. He is a genius, although not all that fond of social interaction.”

  “You don’t say,” Liam mocked, watching the sticky slit in the wall melt back together. “But you also failed to mention that your friends were tarrins. I should have guessed the moment I saw this pod rise up from the ground.”