by Alice Sweet
Autumn leaned forward in her chair with intensity in her eyes that sent a hot shiver threw him. Then she spoke very softly, almost a whisper, with a hint of something... dangerous... in her words, “No worries.” Ivan looked at her with a skeptical look, how did she know? Moreover, was she now telling him that she would tell others? No, she was saying she knew and that she would not tell others, but he could not trust that. He sniffed the air looking for signs of danger again, and found none. His head began to swim with details from today, a messenger, a decoy, what was she?
Meanwhile, Autumn rubbed her temple before staring back at Ivan matching his intensity. She had felt good about her decision to leave her meaning open to interpretation. He stared at her with a serious look of apprehension, or was it desire? She was not sure but she felt a surge of power as she forced herself to look back at him. He was so damn handsome, she thought smirking to herself.
He sucked in hard and thought about jumping over the table and draining her dry. She knew what he was, who he was, a ploy no doubt now, he twitched thinking, was another clan trying their hand at manipulation? He was sure now as she stared at him with no fear, she only matched his look taunting him with her eyes, she was so...wrong...too perfect...they must be using some kind of hallucinogenic agent. He rubbed his wrist that still burned and looked back at her distrusting. He would find out who did this and kill them. She would tell him...before she died.
The blood rushed though his veins his temper flared unexpectedly. As soon as the flash hit his system, his knuckles tightened. She closed her eyes and took a breath her hands tightening on the arms of the chair as well, unconsciously preparing for his attack. His head turned sharply almost unnaturally, his eyes wild with anger now. The thought flashed through his mind, she knows...and she is unafraid. He smiled cruelly as the final transformation hit his system.
His heart stopped beating then, and his eyes dilated as her heart rate tripled, almost ripping from her chest. As Ivan let a growl loose, pouncing on to her, knocking her chair backwards with the force of his body. She closed her eyes and did not open them even as his mouth rested inches from her neck. She could feel his hot breath as he paused momentarily looking at her face. To his surprise, she was smiling happily as if his attack had been playful and not deadly. The question escaped from his snarling lips before he could stop himself, “Why are you smiling?”
“I didn’t see that coming,” she let the smile slip from her face as she finally looked at his eyes for the first time. They were jet black almost no milky whiteness showed, and he snarled viciously, defensively. She tilted her head back to get a better look at his face. He looked at her with something new glaring at her; they were different eyes now something dark and hungry. Her heartbeat changed then from exalted pounding to the appropriate chaotic desperate rhythm that choked the blood from her limbs at once.
As she listened to the change in her heart, she now understood the feeling in her chest. It had come from a different source altogether, real danger. A momentary slip in judgment and she was about to be killed. What was he? Something she had never seen before… at least not in real life, a creature... yes a creature posing as a man. A... What was he? A monster? No...A demon? No...What… vampire... no they weren’t real... were they?
She cursed to herself looking at his mouth, I am going to die. I am going to be eaten by a vampire. Then it struck her, this was not how she wanted to die. This was so wrong! This was crazy! Her feeling of self-preservation had not kicked in, why? Had she just become so accustomed to ignoring the unusual events in her life that when death had asked her to a cup of coffee that she followed him like a lovesick schoolgirl! She even blushed damn it!
It was then that she realized that he had asked her a question, and was waiting for an answer, what had he asked? She struggled to understand the words that formed from the sounds that he was making but her brain refused to comply. Her chaotic mind was still processing the feeling of certain death that his eyes spoke to her. He shook her and shouted something that sounded very angry, almost emotional. Yet all her thoughts could filter was Ivan’s eyes as her mind screamed into the abyss, Grayton!
The pain of his steely grip brought her back the way that only it can. Her tear-filled eyes turned towards Ivan now quivering lips and the words finally reaching their target, “Who do you work for?” Ivan repeated himself twice now, through clenched teeth, obviously struggling with something internally that was causing him great pain at the moment. While the first screams began as one of the customers saw the creature that Ivan had become in a blink of an eye.
Autumn replied, shaking her head slowly from side to side, “You wouldn’t understand,” she paused momentarily not looking at him, “Grayton was right.”
He twisted his head as if he were trying to make sense of the words as he whispered, “Grayton did this?” She dreaded to see the look on his face, but she felt a strong need to understand exactly what he meant. To her surprise, his beautiful face was twisted into look of utter betrayal and furry. Ivan repeated to himself, “Grayton,” his astonishment still apparent.
Autumn replied, “What no....”
He struck without hesitation, ripping her throat out in one clean sweep. It was so fast that she did not even have time to think about it. He was standing over her before her eyes could even close instinctively. The horrified shrieks of those who still remained, were the only sounds signaling the act had been completed, before the remaining bodies fled from the building, leaving her to her fate. Next, she felt the blood spraying from her neck, raining onto her face and hands. He had been merciful, Autumn thought, the bite had intended to be as quick and painless as possible. How she knew this, she was unsure now, since the blood loss swept away her memory almost instantly.
She found it difficult to be angry with him for his part, his pain had been overwhelming. It was then that she realized that that was all she could feel, his pain. His pain had become her pain and they where one at that moment. From now until eternity, she no longer felt alone in this world, complete. It was not at all, what she had expected from death.
The blood felt good on her skin like a warm shower, no pain at all now. She did not dare open her eyes again; she wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible. That and the feeling he was still standing there watching her and she didn’t want to remember him that way, not with blood on his lips; she wanted to remember what he looked like when he first smiled at her. If she had opened them though, she would have seen the look of complete horror that now flashed there.
His tears began to fall as he tasted the blood in his mouth and the feeling of her washed through him. He crumbled next to her body, his hand pressed against the wound, that he had just inflicted, as he called out, “Oh god no!” He knew then that he had made a mistake, she was the one.... Autumn could no longer determine where her body was, it was so easy to forget it all...but his eyes...
Her life flashed before his eyes in a matter of seconds. Then his eyes returned to their human state as he looked at her truly for the first time. His words, came out desperate and pleading, “Autumn open your eyes ...Autumn…please...please.” He knew that she was already too far-gone; her heart was already so slow, though he refused to give in to it.
He saw the beauty of her soul, which once tasted, he embodied in an instant. If he had not ripped her throat out, maybe she could have had a chance. Nevertheless, his anger, no his stupidity had stepped in the way. How could he have known? He should have looked into her eyes and seen. He should have watched closer, seen more.
He lifted her into his arms wrapping her tightly, and whispering fiercely into her ear, “I am so sorry love...” She shuddered one last time, as her heart finally stopped pumping and she faded away peacefully. His breath ripped from his lips as his mate, his one and only, died in arms, at his hands, his scream blew the windows out of the building...his pain unmistakable.
Wake Up
When Autumn opened her eyes again, she was staring at herself
in the mirror, her hands still mechanically washing themselves in the bathroom of the coffee shop. She looked at the familiar shinny green tiles on the walls trying desperately to connect back to reality. Her heart was still racing from the flash and she held her hand up to her neck inspecting it for damage carefully. Relief flooded her as she realized that she wasn’t dead. Smiling ruefully, she tried to slow her breathing, as she returned to the here and now.
If she had not been having these episodes for some time, she was certain that she would have run from the bathroom screaming and trying to pull her eyeballs out of their sockets. However, this was not her first time seeing the outcomes. Another facet of her change she guessed.
She had many dreams that had frightened her, and now these, well, they were dark, scary, and prophetic in nature. Eventually though, she accepted them as a part of who she was, keeping her out of harms way, for the most part anyhow. They were not always so clear. When they had first started, they were bits of a puzzle that she had to piece together. Mostly she went off the feeling that she had from them to determine if she should be concerned, or not.
Surprisingly, she took the next steps from dreams to visions as a logical progression. This seemed a natural outgrowth, one that she had dreamt about in pieces, night after night, and in truth, a month before it happened. A fact that had she been paying attention she probably could have changed things, that afternoon, when doom had struck. A thought that had bitterly held on to her, clinging to her in fact even now reminding her what not listening would get her, Death. Now it was simply, her own private hell, all wrapped in a neat little package, her thumping noggin, waiting to explode, and as much as she wanted to go back and change things even she could not.
At first, she thought that the visions where written in stone, well at least she had hoped that was how they worked. However, slowly over time and much to her dismay, these possibilities came about, over time, proving it otherwise. Things like today, she knew if she changed her actions then his reactions would change as well and maybe today, saving her life in the process.
Nowadays she listened to everything that she saw, and paid heed to all of the possible outcomes of her actions. She did not make the same mistakes twice, no matter how crazy it seemed. She was not going to back down from the challenge, not like before.
The progression of the visions was not always convenient though, changing from times of stress, to visions when she was her most calm without warning, both of which were problematic. Blanking out at the moments when she needed to be the most on top of things was challenging, even once while she was being mugged it occurred, causing her to black out. Although that one did end up turning out well, the mugger thought she was insane, and he dropped her bag in the alley a few feet behind her. Yelling something like, “Crazy bitch,” and then running off without taking a dime.
This newest development of calm visions now resulted in less embarrassing moments, especially since she was the most comfortable when she was alone, but it too had it’s complications. Presenting her with a new set of dangers, as now she could not take baths or swim, or use any sharp objects, while she was alone, which was almost always. Still, all of those things were taken in stride, of which she was proud. The only exception was the newest adjustment, which had taken her months to become accustom to.
It was voices that she began to hear, at first when she closed her eyes at night, then whenever she was sitting quietly. The problem was they were not speaking to her, but to each other, conversations about any number of things. It became clear, that they were not other people’s thoughts, at least not people who were nearby. Honestly, she had hoped that they were, so she could see if they were real to rule out the obvious fear. Her other tact was trying to communicate with them, but they did not seem to hear her, no matter what she tried.
She did not feel crazy though, well at least, no more than other people. Moreover, eventually she realized that they meant no harm. So she chalked it all up to just another part of her mind’s outgrowth and that in time they would make sense, or not. She had gotten into the habit of making notes of interesting tidbits that she pulled from the voices in addition to the dream journal. Keeping note pads, one next to her bed and the other in her pocket usually, to jot them down. Whenever they were not handy, she just scribbled things onto scraps and transcribed them later.
She did try not thinking about it too much, thinking it might encourage them to get even worse, or so she figured, since they seemed to be getting stronger. Nevertheless, she did often find herself speculating about what and where they were though. They were so different. Some did not even speak English. The thought processes for a lot of these people was similar however, and she knew deep down that they were a group of hunters. Autumn also guessed that they were very good at their game. So good in fact, that she often thought her mind was synching with theirs in order to warn her of potential danger.
The danger was definitely real enough; some of their conversations were down right grotesque, tracking and hunting others only to eat them, while they were still alive. Those images seemed to stick in her mind more than others that she had actually seen in her dreams. To the point that she awoke to the sound of her own screams every few nights, after dreaming about creatures with bloody mouths chasing and attacking her, just like the voices suggested.
That had disturbed her the most, she had read about schizophrenia and other delusional possibilities. She knew that her symptoms could have easily been seen as such. She had even experimented with self medication techniques, taking different sleeping pills, to try to push the voices, and dreams out of her head but they, only ended in several dangerous sleepwalking adventures. One in particular, where she dreamt that she killed numerous assailants and awoke to find knifes in her pillows. She promptly removed all sharp objects from her apartment after that one, though she did leave her baseball bat next to the front door. She did live alone in the city after all, and she was not going to leave herself entirely defenseless.
The other more disturbing little pill dream was when she awoke on the rooftop of her apartment building. She had dreamt that she was trying to evade capture and was about to jump from the edge. If it had not been for Grayton’s voice asking her to wake up, she would probably be dead now. The funny part is that he was not even talking to her; well not really, he had been trying to wake someone else. Someone named Serena, she thought it was her anyhow, but either way, that did not stop her from appreciating his help that night.
After that, she began listening to her head night after night sorting though conversations one at a time looking for Grayton’s soothing voice. This had been the most successful attempt at holding on to her sanity in truth. His voice was calming and she focused on it until it became the clearest each night, then she would finally be able to drift off.
At first, it was simply because it was the voice that saved her from certain death. After all a while, she realized his thoughts were more like hers, always sorrowful and wanting. He just did not seem happy with his life’s existence either, he did not suffer from the voices though, she knew she had listened to him for quite a while. She thought, He was a kind man....He had been her guiding light when she feared that her sanity might have truly been lost, he had to be real.... she clung to that thought fiercely.
He kept to himself or so she guessed, since she rarely heard him speaking with others. He also liked to read each night usually classics, though there were plenty of times that she was unable to place the story. From time to time, when he seemed to be feeling a little more masochistic, he read romance. This usually put him into a deep depression; his thoughts turned dark for days, and not surprisingly, nothing seemed to satisfy him. On those days Autumn did not usually have visions, as she found herself unable to calm down enough have them, so worried she was for her friend.
He was a kindred spirit, one that helped her to feel the least afraid and alone during this new and strange time in her life. She knew that she would love to talk with him in per
son, see him, hold him. She felt that she needed to let him know that he was not alone, and often wondered what he would be like in person. She wondered what he did during the day, since she knew he seemed to never sleep, well now... a new thought drifted into her mind...he might be an Ivan....
Then she thought, as she shut off the water, no sharing my thoughts with Ivan though. Hum...No wonder he is so freaking handsome he is a vampire! Lovely! Could my life get any crazier! I hope I have not just snapped. Though she doubted that she had, every bone in her being felt that this was right, true. The world shifted again. Her legs seemed to finally register it and they suddenly became wobbly. She grabbed the paper towel machine to steady herself, slowly regaining her constitution.
As she dried her hands, she thought, Vampires....are you freaking kidding me. Vampires....will this never stop?
Suddenly, she felt the sinking sensation, a feeling that answered her question, and she swallowed hard. She had come to rely on those feelings, trust them so completely. She hated being right all the time, it was depressing. There she had it; this really was never going to end. She shook her head, sighing to herself, and thought selfishly, I wonder if they are all handsome. If Grayton were one of these...creatures, would he look like Ivan? Would he have soulful eyes that hollowed her out and made her head feel like mush?
She shook her head again as the answer seeping out again from behind the fog. No Grayton was not an Ivan, but he was special like him. She thought, Ok too much information right now, slow it down. One thing at a time, answers later, right now I have to get out of this coffee shop, before I don’t have the strength to run.