Tragic Silence

by E. C. Hibbs

  “What... what did you do? How did nobody see you?”

  His eyes – returned to their normal green – sparkled. “I shadowed us,” he replied simply.

  I frowned. That was a term I’d never heard before. “You what?”

  “Shadowed. It’s when you blend in with the shadows that are around you. It works better the darker it is; it’s harder to hold up in a place as well-lit as this. That’s why we had to be quiet.” We entered the lift and I hit the button to take us to the ground floor.

  “You mean... you made yourself invisible?” I blurted, unable to suppress my disbelief.

  Frank chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you can call it invisible in the sense that people don’t notice you as much. Neat trick though, isn’t it?”

  I swallowed excitedly. “Can I do that?”

  He rubbed my arm gently. “Yes. I’ll show you soon. I want to make sure you can shield your mind first. You won’t be able to hold it for as long as I can, though,” he added as the doors slid open.

  Another coming of age thing.

  I turned my face away. If he’d truly been my turner, and not just a substitute, then I would have been excited about coming of age and experiencing everything it would grant me. But instead, it just made me feel sick to my stomach. It was a constant reminder of the hard truth that I’d come to realise.

  I would never be a full vampire. Where my real turner was concerned, I was alone. I would be without help when the time arrived. Coming of age would mean my end.

  I hadn’t told Frank that I’d figured it out. I still thought that all of what had happened was a result of my attempts to help my best friend. So that was all Frank knew as well.

  We left the hospital the same way we’d entered.

  CHAPTER XVII

  The tail-end of summer swept by, the days began to shorten and the evenings turned colder as autumn approached. The first tints of red and gold began to edge the leaves around the city, rustling in chilled winds. The holiday rushes of tourists died down, and work at the Museum returned to normal. I lost track as I busied myself with my job. Now I was sure that Anya and Apa were coming, I was determined to ensure I would be able to give them a reasonable amount of spending money.

  I was at Frank’s; my feet up on the arm of the couch and cane resting against the wall. The two of us were watching episodes of Scooby Doo – one of the few cartoons that I’d actively sought in my childhood. Frank had his arm around my shoulders. Resting on his chest, my head moved gently up and down with his steady breaths. On the coffee table, a large bowl filled with the melted remainder of a lump of chocolate ice cream stood aside from our mugs of tea.

  The credits of the cartoon began to roll and I felt Frank tap my shoulder.

  “You alright?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” He suddenly shifted his weight to fish around in his jeans pocket. “I’ve got something for you here,” he said, pulling his hand out.

  I raised my brows and shifted around so I could see his face. “What?”

  He smiled, and held up the thing that he’d taken from his pocket. I felt my eyes widening. Pinched between his thumb and forefinger was a small silver key.

  “What’s that?” I asked slowly, glancing between it and him as I sat up fully. Frank took my own hand and pressed the key into my palm.

  “This is yours,” he replied. “Your key.”

  He closed my fingers around it and then cupped both of his hands around mine. He hesitated for a moment, preparing himself, and looked me deeply in the eyes.

  “Bee, I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me.”

  My breath caught in my throat and I gaped at him, searching his face for a hint that this was just another of his jokes. But the more I tried to convince myself, the more his steady gaze threw any doubt away. Then it hit me that he wasn’t fooling around.

  “I mean, if you’d want to,” he added. “If you don’t, you can keep it anyway –”

  “No.” I grasped his hand gently. The words were loud and clear: as sure as I could possibly be. “No, I would love that. Honestly. I... I don’t know what to say!”

  “Well, say igen,” he suggested, a huge grin exploding onto his face.

  “Yes! Igen!”

  I threw my arms around him. Huge butterflies tickled the walls of my stomach. I repeated the last few seconds over and over in my head, cherishing them, wanting to keep them in my memory forever.

  “Thank you,” I said, voice muffled by his shirt. His hand ran gently down my back.

  “No, thank you,” was the response. He rested his chin on the top of my head. “I didn’t know if you’d want to.”

  I sighed, and replied with all the honesty I’d ever felt, “I’d love to.”

  I could almost feel the shining smile in his eyes, like some glorious warmth above me. I looked up at him, and he moved a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his free hand. Around me, I vaguely perceived the room, with all its familiar details that I’d come to know – and explored the tangents that mapped out the whole house perfectly in my mind. But it all held new meaning now. They weren’t just my boyfriend’s belongings. They were a part of my home.

  My home.

  For a long time, I felt as though I’d used that word too vaguely. It was only when I moved to London that I began to think about the difference between the place where you live, and what was actually your home. When Anya, Apa and I were living in the rented accommodation, I never considered it to be my true ‘home’. I’d used the word interchangeably with ‘my place’; ‘my flat’; or even just ‘mine’. Leaving Budapest, I’d done the same thing. I’d left one non-home, and gone to another. As much as I loved my freedom and independence, I missed company. But with Frank’s invitation, the true meaning of home came back to me. I had found my new home. And it was with him.

  Imagination led me on to picture our future together. I saw myself in a long white dress, Apa walking me down the aisle, towards where Frank was waiting at the altar. I felt the ring on the third finger of my left hand. In the bright flash of a camera, children grew up around us, and then raised their own children. In my head, I watched days out at the seaside, birthday parties. We grew old together, living out our lives at each others’ side.

  Don’t be silly, I told myself. You won’t survive to see any of it come true.

  But I shoved the inner voice out of my mind. For all its truth and brutal honesty, I didn’t care for it. This was too wonderful for me to let go, and both of us stayed there with our arms around each other, for what seemed like forever. When I finally let sleep take me – Frank’s hand resting gently on mine – I slipped away with a smile on my face, into a place where no horrors found power to haunt me.

  During the next few weeks, we tidied up my flat, and by October, it was on the market. I packed all my belongings into cardboard boxes, and Frank rented a small van so we could move them the few miles to his house – our house. Part of it felt like a huge leap into the unknown, but then I’d sit down and remind myself, you’re a vampire, Bee. You went for years carrying that alone. Nothing will define ‘unknown’ as much.

  Autumn came, and the streets outside littered with fallen leaves. Rain ran down the windows of my flat as I walked around its familiar routes. Frank was at work, but it was my day off. Word about my decision to move in with him had spread around the Museum like wildfire. Danni had barely stopped talking to me about it since she found out.

  The whole place was almost empty of everything that was mine. The sofas and other heavy furniture were staying, but apart from that, it was bare. The cupboards were cleared of all of my plates and the polka dot mugs; all of my books and films had been taken away to join Frank’s library. The only things that remained were waiting to be packed into the rucksack I’d brought with me. They were my pocketknife, and the two frames that had once hung next to each other on the living room wall, showcasing my graduation photograph and Lucy’s
panoramas.

  I knelt on the floor, carefully buffering them all in bubble-wrap. The harsh sound of tape being torn from its roll snapped through the air as I worked. I started to absent-mindedly sing to myself to fill the silence. My voice was terrible; I was tone deaf and I’d never even made it into the choir during my younger school years, but my stereo had already been taken to Frank’s, so I had to make do with what little I had.

  The panoramas stood before me, waiting to join the photograph already in my rucksack. I picked up the frame, staring at the miniature Buda Castle beneath the glass. I let my eyes blur, and fleetingly imagined the Castle merging with the Cathedral before quickly wrapping the pictures. Then I secured it with tape, and hid it inside the bag.

  The knife went into my jeans pocket, and a peculiar warmth fell over me, from it simply being there. The only thing left to do was remove the birch twigs stuck around the skirting boards of every room. But before I did that, I crossed to the phone, picked it up from the dock, and punched in the code for Hungary. I held the receiver to my ear as the ringing tone beeped out. I waited for the other side to pick up, for Apa’s voice to greet me – I had left it until this moment to tell them I was moving in with Frank, wanting to surprise them. I remembered their joy as they congratulated me for having found someone, knowing me so well to appreciate that whoever he was, he wasn’t just anybody. I was too careful in my very nature to let an idiot into my life. And with my emotions being so easy to read, I was certain they realised over the phone that I was serious.

  As I’d tried to imagine and comprehend their reactions to the first call about Frank, I found myself doing it again. I heard the surprise, and then the happiness that would follow. A smile broke across my face with the anticipation. Then, as soon as I noticed that it was still ringing, I was cut off to the answering machine.

  I scowled. Apa always answered the phone. Undeterred, I decided to try his mobile. I grimaced, imagining the size of my bill – but that shot out of my mind when he still didn’t pick up.

  “Jó napot, Apa, it’s Bianka. I tried the house phone, but you mustn’t be in. Just call me back on my mobile when you get this message. I have something important to tell you and Anya. Take care, I love you. Viszontlátásra.”

  I placed the phone back in the dock, feeling my lips puckering in confusion. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t answering. Remembering that Hungary’s time zone was one hour ahead of England’s, I pulled back the sleeve of my cardigan to check my wristwatch. It would have been almost six o’ clock in Budapest.

  Both of them should be home by now, I thought, but then reminded myself that Apa’s shift had changed slightly in the last few weeks. Since the two of them shared a car, they both could be stuck in traffic. And if Apa was driving, of course he wouldn’t pick up.

  I shook my head to clear it of the silliness, and with that, I pulled all of the twigs off the walls. Then I bundled them into the rucksack, slung it over my shoulder, and left my flat for the last time.

  That night, after Frank got back from the Museum, he began to teach me how to shadow myself. Compared to flying, it was harder than I thought it would be – and it wasn’t helped by how well he could do it.

  “Feel yourself melting away,” Frank instructed. “Search out the shadows around you with your mind, and just become one with them.”

  He faded away slightly, and I watched in awe. When I looked at him head-on, I could see him clearly, but as soon as my face was turned to the side and I used my peripheral vision, there was just a large dark patch, exactly like a normal shadow.

  “Won’t it look a little strange if people see a cane moving on its own, though?” I asked, tapping the handle with my finger.

  “I could say the same about clothes,” Frank retuned, a lopsided smile on his face. I laughed, and he shook his head. “Remember how I was the only one shadowed in the hospital – but nobody saw you, or your cane? Just incorporate it.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes in concentration. I reached out, feeling for the shade with invisible mental fingers. I fancied that my body was gradually turning darker, like I’d imagined it lighter so it could take my own weight in the air. I was blending in with my surroundings like a bloodsucking chameleon.

  “Nearly.”

  Frank’s voice cut in and distracted me, snapping me out of it completely. Then I realised what I’d just compared myself to, and laughter snorted out of my nose.

  “You nearly did it,” he said again, coming over. “You sort of... flashed in and out for a sec, if you know what I mean.”

  I held a hand to my forehead and sighed. He took hold of my shoulders gently.

  “Hey, are you alright?” His voice was suddenly etched with concern.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “I’m just tired. I think I need an early night.”

  Frank nodded, pulling me into a hug. “Go on to bed then. We’ll try again when you’re a bit more awake. You’ve had a long day.”

  Had I? It hadn’t felt particularly long, compared to other days I would have called that. But I decided to just go with it, and agreed.

  “I’m a bit worried, too,” I admitted, and Frank adjusted his hold on me so that he came around to my side. The cuckoo clock hooted from the kitchen to tell us that it was ten o’clock. I had to admit, even though I’d wondered how Frank could live with the sound every single hour, I was beginning to get used to it myself.

  “Why? What’s the matter?” he asked, following me towards the stairs.

  I placed a hand on the banister to help in the climb. “I tried to phone my parents before, and they didn’t answer me. And they haven’t phoned back, either. It’s nothing. They must have had a long day, too. I’ll try again in the morning.”

  Frank suddenly scooped me up into his arms and began to carry me up the stairs. “I’m sure they’re fine,” he assured, his eyes sparkling.

  I looked up into them, finding immediate comfort. The tentative space filled, I managed a tired smile, and gently touched his cheek with my fingers. It was the closest I could come to a kiss, so that gesture had come to represent it for the both of us. When he set me down on the edge of the bed, he returned it – with one of his rarer, deep smiles.

  He went back downstairs to turn off all the lights and lock up, but I was so exhausted that sleep took me before he returned to my side. I distantly felt my cane fall out of my hand as it hung over the edge of the bed. I sunk into the soft sheets, disappearing into the caverns of my mind. But before I could take a single step inside the dream world, my path was suddenly blocked by thick mist, and a sinister figure emerged from the darkness. I froze in horror.

  However, he didn’t seem to see me, and walked along an old street as heavy snow fell down from the sky. His blue eyes squinted against the wind, a dark tailcoat blowing out behind him as he held a black umbrella low over his head. The cobbled road was lined with tall terraced houses, steps leading down from their doorways. I watched as he pulled a small pocket watch from his waistcoat and flipped open the cap, pausing to glance at it. Then he picked up speed and quickly turned down a small, dank alleyway. A golden ring glinted on his finger.

  Unable to control myself, I hovered to follow, looking down onto the Izabella Street complex. At the end of the street, the candle wick of a streetlamp flickered. A thick mist suddenly swept down on him and he collapsed on the ground with a shout. The snow blurred in front of my eyes. Red, living blood crept from beneath his stiff white collar. His alabaster skin was traced with black, and his eyes rolled shut.

  I fell into the rancid tunnel. Realising I was dreaming, I fought to claw my way back to wakefulness, but to no avail. I felt him behind me, and his silky voice flowed over me like chilled water.

  Jó napot, Farkas. It has been too long.

  I felt my eyes narrowing. “Not long enough for me.”

  A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. I felt my heart speed up in my sleeping body, and the fingers of my dream-self lingered over my amulet. “Why are you here?�
� I demanded.

  He sneered. You have grown stronger. The years have shaped you well.

  “If that’s supposed to be some kind of compliment, then you really need to work on it.”

  So impolite, he said. But you always were an insolent brat.

  “Only when called for,” I snapped back, “and it tends to be reserved for murderers.”

  His icy laugh shot through the air, and he moved closer. Panic surged in my veins and I quickly imagined a sphere surrounding me, which he couldn’t enter. The amulet shone around my neck.

  “Stay away from me,” I warned, putting as much force behind it as I could.

  You cannot escape me, he said simply – but he did stop, inches from the edge of my sphere.

  “I said, stay away from me.”

  The Lidérc raised his head ever so slightly. I didn’t move, and felt my eyes gleaming red.

  “Tell me what you want, demon,” I snarled.

  His gaze flitted over my amulet; then the twin flames burned in his face. I want to tell you something, he replied smoothly. The danger hidden under the surface beat at me, and I didn’t take my eyes off him as he began to circle me like a vulture. But perhaps you can find it for yourself.

  He paused, staring straight through me. How does it feel to be an orphan?

  It was as though I’d been stabbed again. I hung in the air, unable to move. I thrashed violently in my sleep, sending something that felt like a pillow across the room. In the shadowed prison, I let my guard down. Before I could react, he burst through the shield.

  Dream-stiffness froze my limbs where they were. I bellowed something indecipherable, my voice bouncing around me off the nonexistent walls. He sniggered, and grasped my chin between his fingers. I distantly felt the long black nails digging into my skin.

  My congratulations are in order for you and your little harmless, he smirked. Blocking me from forging a link to you – most impressive. But all you have seen has torn you. You cannot keep me away, not when your mind goes to such dark places in your sleep. I can appear to you whenever I wish. But despite that, whether you deny me or not, I am your turner; and despite what you may consciously think of me, you will never sever that link. I am a part of you forever.