by ML Michaels
‘Of all places to meet her again, it had to be here,’ Asher grumbled, adjusting the buttons of his uniform. He, along with the rest of the survivors, was sent to this medical ward so doctors could check him for injuries, despite his protests that he was fine. Lisbeth was wearing a nurse’ uniform, and Asher unconsciously held his breath as he waited for her to turn to his bed. Lisbeth smiled at Asher and reviewed his patient file, and Asher’s brow furrowed.
“Lisbeth?” Asher asked tentatively, making her look at him, confused.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, and Asher blinked, repeating her name. She smiled sympathetically at him.
“You must still be groggy from the medicine they gave you. My name’s not Lisbeth, it’s Jenny, and I’ll be your nurse aide for today.”
Asher couldn’t believe it, and for a few days, thought she was lying, pretending not to know him out of spite and resentment because he had failed to protect her that night. But it became more obvious with each passing day that she didn’t know who he was. To her, he was a soldier she had just met. And he realized that she was just another person who had an uncanny resemblance to his former flame.
He was sad at first but immediately brightened at the prospect of new love. They became friends, and even though Asher knew she was not his Lisbeth of the past, her movements and gestures were actions Lisbeth used to make back then. For the first time, he thought of the possibility of reincarnation and was excited at the possibility of having a second chance to be with her. Asher wooed her again, and Jenny was all too willing to give her heart to him.
He should’ve known that such good fortune couldn’t last.
One day, the medical ward was attacked, and she was shot several times. Asher couldn’t identify which soldier shot her. So he went on a rampage and killed every soldier in the vicinity, be it someone who fought under the same flag or not.
He was filled with rage that night. What could she have possibly done to lose her second chance at life? What had he done to have lost love twice? The world was a cruel place, he decided, and vowed never to love again.
But fate intervened, and he met her again for the third time. She was now a part of another era, dressed in a different way, working another job, but it was still the same Lisbeth, or Jenny, he remembered. He also remembered his promise that he would never love again, so despite the hardships, he contented himself to watch her from the dark. He watched as she fell in love with the wrong man, one after another until she finally settled on someone Asher deemed disagreeable and inferior.
Asher fell into deep despair as this third physical reproduction of Lisbeth’s soul lived a life without him, a life that slowly became more and more miserable until he couldn’t bear to watch.
Asher never learned her name, but she died cold, old, and alone in a shabby shack after her husband left her in debt and her children abandoned her.
And he didn’t know what kind of game the world was playing, but a pattern was emerging. If he chose to be with Lisbeth, she’d die a horrible death. If he didn't, she’d live a miserable life. The universe seemed to be making him choose between the lesser of two evils, but he couldn’t make up his mind which one was a worse fate for her.
So he tried to escape. As long as he didn’t know she existed, he reasoned, he wouldn't have to worry about what to do. But every generation and every place he went, there she was.
Asher gave up trying to make sense of it all and resigned himself to the fact that he and Lisbeth’s souls were destined to forever be in the same plane, with the hands of fate playing their wicked game on them both. So Asher steeled himself and decided not to get to know her in any of her incarnations.
Asher looked at the time and gauging that it was still a little hot outside, took out a ring from his desk and put it on. It was one of those rare heirloom rings that vampire clans use for extra protection, for the sun to be more bearable. He had stolen it many years ago from one of his creator’s lackeys while looking for any leads to him the whereabouts of his nemesis. He took one of his dark hoodies and jeans out of the closet and put those on too. Then he grabbed a large guitar case from under his bed and slung it behind his back before stepping outside.
He worked part-time as a guitarist in clubs and coffee shops despite the amount of wealth he accumulated over many years. The pay was meager, but it gave him access to women drunk enough to seduce so he could feed when he had to. Plus, the last he heard about his creator was that he was frequenting all the clubs, so it gave him plenty of opportunities to look for him.
He arrived at the club, 7 Sins, and fist bumped his friend, Denver, who played the drums. His other bandmates Toby, the bassist, and Carter, on the keyboard, weren’t here yet. They were probably still out lining up more gigs.
Asher was pretty close with all of them, especially since they were the only people on earth who knew his secret. He didn’t exactly mean for them to know, but one night he had had too much to drink, and he had conked out. Carter had thought it would be a good idea to just take him back to his place along with the rest of the guys who were equally drunk. His place had a floor-to-ceiling wall of glass with no curtains.
When morning came, his skin blistered and burned, and his screams woke everyone up. He had no choice but to give them a viable explanation.
“Where are the guys?” Asher asked, taking his guitar out of the case and starting to tune it.
Denver shrugged. “Probably out talking with our new vocalist. After Chad dropped out to become a solo act, no one has worked out. Toby’s confident about this one, though.”
Asher swirled his tongue in his cheek, contemplating. He didn’t doubt Toby’s instincts, but he didn’t understand why this bit of news was a little…unnerving.
He finished tuning up and went to help out at the bar, the bartender and owner, Lindow, giving him a grateful smile. He served juice and coffee to the regulars of the afternoon shift, and when Toby and Carter finally arrived, sans vocalist, Asher raised his eyebrows at them.
“She’s coming. She was just finishing up her transfer papers,” Toby answered him, and Asher snorted. So they found their new vocalist at school.
“What’s her major?” Asher asked.
“Biology. She's studying blood disorders. Weird, huh?” Carter said, shaking his head.
Asher smirked. How ironic that their new vocalist dabbled in blood as much as he did. And she’s a transferee.
“How did you guys know her?” Denver asked, twirling his drum stick with his fingers. “You’re a physical therapy major,” he pointed at Toby, “and you’re in music,” he nodded at Carter.
“She was singing while mopping up in the art room. Her voice…” Carter whistled, ending his explanation and continued setting up the rest of their gear.
By nightfall, the club was packed and the guys were standing on the stage, ready to play. But the vocalist was nowhere in sight.
Asher gritted his teeth as he watched customers getting antsy.
“Where the hell is she?” he demanded, and Toby scrambled for his cellphone.
Carter raised his hands, trying to calm Asher when the doors opened wide. Carter and Toby sighed in relief.
“There she is!” Toby cried.
One of Asher’s eyebrows ticked. He was livid. First day on the job, and she was late! He snapped his head to the doors, ready to yell at her. Instead, his voice caught in his throat, and his eyes widened in surprise. The only words that formed in his mind were: Holy. Shit.
***
“Sorry I’m late!” Eliza called, skidding to a stop in front of the band. She placed both her hands on her knees as she gulped huge amounts of air into her lungs. She explained that the cranky registrar held her up all afternoon saying she should sit in the waiting area while they reviewed her papers in case they needed any other information from her. She complied, but after several frustrating hours, she was fed up and went to talk to the registrar, who apparently was very busy flirting with the security guard. Eliza gave her a piece of
her mind, and the registrar hurriedly approved her transfer.
Eliza looked at her new bandmates with a smile. Carter and Toby smiled widely at her while the guy behind the drums just nodded. She turned towards the last man in the group, and she smiled wider at him, but he just blinked at her, his mouth open.
Eliza frowned. ‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ she thought. She checked her clothes to see if something was out of place. She was wearing a white shirt over a pair of worn jeans and a pair of sneakers. Everything looked fine to her. She tilted her head towards him in curiosity.
“Is there something on my face?” she asked. Asher snapped his mouth shut and glared at her.
“Just get up here and sing,” he said sharply. Eliza backed up, scowling as Asher kicked the mic stand closer to her. Eliza held it steadily, placing her notebooks and bag on top of the speakers. She turned back towards Denver to signal him to start, and Denver tapped his drumsticks for their cue.
Asher couldn’t believe it. Of all the people his friends had to discover as their vocalist, it was her.
Her long black hair was held in a ponytail, the freckle on her nose, her lips, her skin, and those violet eyes that glared at him…
It was Lisbeth, or rather, the Lisbeth of this time.
Eliza opened her mouth to sing, and Asher was mesmerized. In all her lifetimes, this was the first time he’d ever heard her sing. And she was incredible. If angels sang, Asher was sure they would sound like her. He almost missed a note, and the rest of band noticed. He ignored them, but there was no way he was going to be able to avoid her now that she was in the band. But if they got together, she was going to die. What was he going to do now?
Eliza looked at the guitarist at the corner of her eye. She couldn’t drop the feeling that she had seen him before, but she couldn’t remember where or when. His pale pallor contrasted nicely with his spiky black hair. His eyebrows were furrowed and his red lips in a frown while he expertly played the right chords. But it was his eyes that Eliza focused on. They were a mesmerizing teal; a shade Eliza thought impossible for any blue eyed person to have, but obviously, she was wrong.
Eliza brought her focus back to her singing, closing her eyes as she let the music wash over her. The crowd was enthusiastic, raising their glasses in the air and dancing to the beat. Despite the cacophony, however, Asher’s ears picked up on a crashing sound from overhead. A second later, the ceiling broke, and a large pipe came down, swinging in Eliza’s direction. Asher quickly tackled her to the ground, and the pipe crashed through the wall.
Water sprayed from the sprinklers and the broken pipe, and the crowd panicked, pushing their way towards the exit. Carter and Toby quickly pulled the plugs of the equipment before they had a chance to get wet, and Lindow immediately pulled the phone from under the counter.
Asher and Eliza were on the floor staring at each other and breathing heavily, the former lying on top of the latter. Eliza gasped as she was hit by a memory of a dream she’d had intermittently ever since she was a little girl. A dream about her and a man walking hand in hand, smiling and happy. A man with beautiful teal blue eyes…
“You’re him,” Eliza sighed, and Asher’s heart did a somersault. Before he could reply, Denver crouched down and placed a wet hand on each of their shoulders. The touch reminded them that they were getting soaked.
“Are you two alright?” Denver cried. Eliza nodded at him, and Asher moved away from her before standing up.
Eliza looked up at Asher before standing up herself.
“T-thank--,” Eliza stuttered before Asher cut her off.
“Watch yourself next time! You could’ve gotten blood all over the equipment,” he said harshly, and Eliza glared at him.
“Wow, next time I’m in a life or death situation, I’ll make sure I'm as far as possible from your precious guitar!”
Asher rolled his eyes, and Eliza picked up her belongings before stomping out of the club. She took out her notebook and scribbled ferociously on it while walking.
“Unbelievable jerk, trying to dictate everything,” she grumbled to herself. She heard a loud beep and looked up to see a car coming fast.
“Watch out!” Eliza was pulled back to safety, and the car sped away. She looked back to her savior and wanted to scream in frustration. Asher had saved her for the second time. She took a deep breath and shook his hold off then turned towards him, her anger forgotten. She looked at him, and Asher fidgeted under her curious gaze.
“What?” he growled.
“You’re starting to make a habit of saving me,” she replied, and Asher glared at her.
“Well, stop making it a habit of getting yourself killed!” he snapped, but Eliza tilted her head, unaffected. Asher glanced at the notebook she had been busy writing in.
“What was so important anyway?” he asked. Eliza blinked and wrote down another entry in the notebook before smiling back at Asher.
“This is my 'Almost Kicked the Bucket' journal,” she said, smiling brightly at him. Asher raised an eyebrow at her.
“What?”
“Well, I’ve escaped death tons of times, ever since I was a little girl. I got bored keeping track after the thirteenth almost death, so I got a journal where I could write them down.” Eliza explained.
Asher blinked dumbly at her explanation. He slowly came to a realization that he was mistaken.
This Lisbeth was not like the other versions of Lisbeth. Not. At. All.
Eliza was comfortable enough with Asher to let him in her house, something that frustrated Asher.
“What if the person you let in is some sort serial killer or a robber or some other creep who wants to hurt you?” he said. Eliza turned back to him with her eyebrow raised.
“Are you a serial killer?” Eliza asked.
“No,” Asher answered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Are you a robber?”
“No.”
"Do you want to hurt me?" she asked.
Asher glared at her. Eliza smiled condescendingly at him.
“So, are you going to tell me more about your bizarre journal?” He followed Eliza to the kitchen and leaned on the wall, watching her take a jug of orange juice from the fridge and pour it into two glasses. He nodded as she offered him a drink.
“Well, like I said, I’ve had loads of experiences cheating death. Falling down the stairs almost breaking my neck, tripping over a live wire. You name it; I’ve probably done it.” She took a sip of her juice and watched Asher as he thought about everything she had told him.
‘So the Eliza of this period is somewhat aware of the fact that the world is out to get her,’ Asher thought. It would be easier to protect her if she was cooperative, but what would that mean for their relationship?
As if she had read his thoughts, Eliza asked him a question. “By the way, Asher. This is going to sound weird but, do you own britches and a court coat?”
“What?” Asher asked incredulously, causing Eliza to shrug.
“I told you; it’s weird. I dreamt about you…well, you and me, and you were wearing this old English coat that I’ve only ever seen on Victorian movies, and I had on a ridiculously large gown, and we were walking together and stuff. I just wanted to know if you were the guy in my dream,” Eliza explained, her cheeks glowing.
Asher merely blinked at her. How was he supposed to tell her that the dreams she was having weren’t dreams but memories of her past life 200 years ago?
He opened his mouth, struggling to come up with an answer when the door burst open, and three men wearing masks came inside, holding guns and a large bag.
“Give us all your money and no one gets hurt!” the man cried, pointing his gun first at Asher then at Eliza.
The robbers frowned when instead of the reaction they were expecting, Eliza sighed in exhaustion and looked at Asher apologetically.
“I’m sorry you had to be a part of this,” she murmured.
Asher glared at the men and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m so
rry too.”
He moved so fast the others didn’t get a chance to blink. Asher had moved in front of the closest robber and quickly disarmed him. He pinned the robber’s arm behind his back and slammed him against the wall, rendering him unconscious. He then stepped to the next robber as the masked man fired his gun twice, hitting Asher in his shoulder and his stomach before Asher got a hold of his head and snapped it. The last man was about to shoot him but Eliza had managed to sneak behind him and hit his head hard with a metal tray.
Eliza quickly dialed the police as Asher found a long plastic wire that he used to tie up the culprits. After the call, Eliza opened the cupboard and took out the first aid kit.
“I requested an ambulance, but I don't know how long they'll take. Let me check your wounds.” Eliza moved to take Asher’s shirt off, and he recoiled.
“No, I’m fine.” Asher insisted. His wounds were already healing, and he would have some explaining to do if she saw them.
“You were shot twice! No one is fine after that, now take your shirt off!”
“No!” he slapped her hands away, but Eliza was relentless.
“I’m not going to harm your virtue if that’s what you’re worried about!” She managed to grab the hem of his shirt, lift it up—and freeze, as she watched the bullet eject itself from Asher’s abs, and the bullet hole close on its own. His skin was as good as new.
Asher pushed his shirt back down, but the look on Eliza’s face said that the damage had been done. He sighed and hit his head against the wall.
“Oh my God,” Eliza whispered. She picked up the bloody bullet between her thumb and forefinger, examining it closely before looking at Asher in awe.
“Asher, are you…are you some kind of superhero or a mutant or something?”
Asher dropped his head down and shook his head.
“I’m not anything good like that,” he said, and Eliza took a deep breath.
“Are you a zombie then?! Oh my God, stay away from my brain!” Eliza shrieked. Asher laughed at her because, really? Zombies don’t exist!
“I’m not a zombie, you idiot! I’m…” Asher looked at her seriously, and Eliza tensed up, waiting for the answer.