The First Touch

by Alice Sweet

  Serena wrote, For you, keep your dreams safe. It is fire retardant material, to keep the flames at bay. Welcome to your new life, Love, Serena. Autumn smiled and opened it and flipped though it finding a strand of satin that was to be the book mark and pulled it to the first page and then closed the Journal. Then she tucked it back into the same spot as before. She looked at the other side and realized that the right hand side must have something propping it up as well.

  Her fingers found it quickly enough, and there was a few of her prized collection of books twined together propping up the other side. On top of them was another hand written note, this one was from Grayton. Autumn, I will see to the cat. Here are a few books to keep you company on those long nights. I am sorry that I cannot be there. Serena and I will be along shortly following Sophia’s transformation. I look forward to seeing you again. Love, Grayton.

  Autumn’s finger followed her finger along the last words, and her mind drifted back to that thought again, I wonder what I will look like. I wonder what I will be like, when I am done. She imagined Ivan’s smiling face, then, the one that he had had in the alley. His eyes had been so black and shinny, wet stones, smooth and frightening. Autumn frowned and pulled the twine from the books with little effort, sorting through them. To her delight Grayton had chosen a good selection, three of her favorites and one that she had recently acquired but had yet to read. She was just about to pick it up when something caught her eye in the bag.

  It was the corner of a book at the bottom of the bag, it was worn and red. The children’s book filled with nursery rhymes and short stories that she had kept in spite of its macabre origin. The book that had been dyed red with the blood from her daughter’s body was waiting for her. It was sick, she knew it was, but the car crash had thrown the red everywhere in the car. It had covered the entire back seat as a matter-of-fact. She had remembered crawling over the blood covered back seat, feeling it squishing between her fingers as she made her way to her dying child.

  The red was everywhere; her skull had been entirely crushed. It had soaked into the book that sat in her lap. The book had been her favorite; it went with her everywhere. Autumn remembered it vividly her tiny fingers had managed to grip it even though she couldn’t see a thing and held it tightly to her tiny chest as she lay dying. Autumn never heard the ambulance; she died that night too, though they had managed to resuscitate her body. She knew then that she would never be the same though, what mother could.

  When she awoke weeks later her body was slowly healing in spite of her will not to live. Her first and only words to the doctor had been, “Why did you save me?” The hospital put her on a suicide watch keeping psychologist interns with her at all times for the first few weeks. Eventually, she convinced them that she was not intending to hurt herself. A few days later, she left the hospital in a wheel chair having both legs, and her left arm casted. She had been breathing shallowly as well because her ribs were wrapped tightly having broken, six of them. Then she sold everything that she owned, save this book and a small shoe box filled with photos, and moved to another smaller apartment across town, to start again undisturbed by painful memories of her former life.

  All of that had been nothing, compared to the anguish of loosing her light. That had been how Autumn had always thought of her child. The beacon in the dark, love and warmth, now all that she could feel was the cold. Those first cold nights alone, crying, holding her pillow and wishing she could die. The emptiness of a part that would never be returned, and could never be repaired. The thought of a life, without life was unbearable. It was more than her mind could bare, she wanted this new life so badly, to be selfish, but her mind would not let go of her last. She knew if she let go, then she would also be letting go of her daughter somehow, and she could not do that.

  The blood in Autumn’s head began to rush sending hot pain into her head then, as the tears began to fall again. The Image of her child’s death was overwhelming, and she felt her body shift inside ever so slightly then. Her fingers ran over the edges of the sealed book and her nose caught it. Autumn caught a whiff of her child’s blood, old and ever so feint but she knew then that it was her first joy in this life’s endless pain. The images began to flash through her head filling her body with wracking pain. Somewhere in her mind her daughter cried in the dark, and she swore she could hear it….

  She pulled the book in tightly, and wept for what seemed forever. She would not let go of her child, not ever, she would carry her to her grave, and beyond. Bring on the pain she thought, she was ready for it, she welcomed it, smiling within, arms opened. That was her decision; she would keep that part of her life alive, always. No one would take that from her not even herself. The darkness swept over her then and Autumn tightened her grip on the book as it pulled her under into dreamless sleep.

  ***

  The voices began as distant whispers, so light and sweet sounding. Over time, she began to become more and more aware of her surroundings. She drifted in and out of consciousness. Though her body stayed in stasis, as she became more aware, she made a realization that, she knew her body had moved, but she had not remembered when or why. Her skin felt warm and a blanket was wrapped tightly around her body. The familiar feeling of being held filled her with the memory of Ivan holding her. He had said such sweet things to her while she slept her life away.

  Her most stressful memory was a recent event in the short list of things that she could recall from her sleeping time. His voice had been strained towards the end though, and she was uncertain why but it seemed important to him. She remembered he had pleaded with her to wake up, and she had wanted to so badly but her grip would not loosen on her life. All she could think was, I can’t let go. I am so sorry, love.

  She remembered feeling his heart beating so quickly and then stopping suddenly and the now familiar smell of blood. Then flashes of rough hands and cold eyes that peered at her while she slept. Followed by harsh words and disapproving grumbles. Ivan had been caught running, she guessed, and they were not pleased. Was he in danger? Her inner voice replied, no and she had smiled sending gasps from the onlookers that night.

  “She smiled,” said the first voice, and then a sweet voice began to sing. Like music for her soul it made her blood feel like ice. Then tears fell peacefully, freeing her from any fears that she might have had at the moment. The connection between her mind and body was loosened by the desire to be swept away from her immobile body. Then images of Ivan’s smiling face filled her mind and she felt peaceful and calm again.

  Then the singing faded away, and blackness returned filling in the space, with a sweet smell of lilies. They were overwhelming to the point of nausea, and Autumn swallowed it back down holding it tightly until it faded as well. Then cold hands traced her arms and icy trails that seeped inside of her skin. The flame inside her chest flared and the trails melted and dripped off of her skin. The voices argued for quiet sometime and a vice grip latched down upon her hands. To her surprise though in spite of the immense pressure, Autumn felt no pain. Only echoes of screams and thuds and a voice so familiar.

  Ivan was angry and there was going to be so much pain, she felt the air change and then the singing began again. The room began to spin and something thudded on the floor. Then shuffling and grunting followed by more angry voices. Ivan was safe, as was she. That was what she had gathered from the voices.

  Ivan told her later, that they had promised to give her more time. As much as she needed, but in return he had to stay away so that he did not slow her change, but happily he did not stay away as he had promised the others. Each night he came and visited, sliding his hands over her skin and whispering to her sweetly. Then one night not long ago she guessed, he finally stopped coming, that night had been especially cold and long. The cold began to seep inside of her now growing and changing. The veins in her body slowly shriveled and new connections grew in their places as cold fluid slowly destroyed the warm blood cells and replaced them with something new, something darker.
Feeding her whispers, her feelings, with power and tension and opening her mind to a deeper sense of awareness.

  At first it was frightening, but that feeling soon faded and a sharper feeling replaced it. One that she knew would keep her safe, since Ivan was gone. Then one night not long after, a new voice one that she was not familiar with, began to come into her room to watch her sleep. This voice was not familiar or sweet or gentle. This voice was harsh and empty, and it made her skin crawl and her insides worked extra hard to prepare her for a danger that she could feel was just beyond the horizon.

  Eventually, she began to feel it grow colder inside her chest and the pain began to seep into her skin. After a time, she knew that it was not just the sorrow of her new placement. The bed in this new place was wrong and painful. There had been many deaths here, painful and torturously slow. There was no blood smell though it had been carefully cleaned away. But it did not change the feel of the air, the forgotten fear and suffering that would forever haunt it. Her inner voice told her, They should burn this place to the ground and free what was trapped here.

  Then one night, the slithering foot steps, of which she had now become accustomed too, came into the room again. It was different tonight though, his shuffle was heavier as if he were carrying a new weight on his shoulders. “She still sleeps see,” he said.

  Then a new voice answered, this one deeper, “It has been a long time.”

  He answered, “Yes, twice as long as the longest ever recorded.”

  The new voice asked, “Are they sure she is still changing?”

  He replied eagerly, “No. Flanagan and Grayton still argue over that fact.”

  The new voice asked carefully, “What do they think?”

  He replied, “They think she is finished but she will not wake.”

  The new voice seemed annoyed then, “Why do they think she will not wake?”

  He replied, attempting to placate his guest, “Grayton says that she is not ready to face the world yet. While Flanagan seems to think that she is unable to wake. Like a human in a comma.”

  The new voice seemed intrigued, “Is that what you believe, Gregory?”

  She felt his shifty smile as he replied, “I think she waits for her mate.” As he said this he scrapped his fingers down the nape of her neck and down to her breast grabbing it roughly. Autumn heard a sharp smack and an angry voice seething with warning followed, “Do not touch her.”

  Gregory replied, “She is asleep, I could set her on fire and she would not feel a thing.”

  The other voice snapped, saying something in a foreign tongue, a profanity by the sound of the force behind it, “She does not burn. If she awakes you are to call me immediately.”

  Gregory shot back, stuttering in a well rehearsed manner, “Of course... I will...” The door closed again without another word.

  The following night, Autumn felt the wind on her face, as if the window were open, though there wasn’t one in her room. There was a new scent in the air, and finally she awoke, her heart beat wildly in her chest. There was something wrong, the air felt different, there was danger in it. Autumn felt it coming closer as the slithering step returned, “I know my place.” The voice was cold and familiar now, Gregory. Autumn felt his chilly fingers slide across her face. It hit her then if she did not call out no one would come to save her.

  Her mind revealed and her voice came out weak and lifeless, “Stop.”

  Gregory halted and asked “What did you say?”

  Autumn’s weak trembling voice came again, “Stop please.” She opened her eyes then, pleading with him.

  Gregory smiled heartlessly and lifted Autumn’s hand and then let her wilted limb drop. “You are supposed to be sleeping my dear.” His mocking tone made her shake on the inside involuntarily, he was the danger. He felt her fear then and he smiled monstrously back at her now. Sliding his hand back to her face saying, “You have lovely eyes my dear, I think they are wrong though, you have not changed at all.”

  Then she watched as his eyes changed to black pitiless pools, and Autumn screamed out sending an echo into the empty room, and adjoining hallway, ‘IVAN!’

  Gregory slid his hands protectively over his ears, and looked at Autumn hesitating, assessing the risk. He was trying to determine the level of danger in her screams and then he smiled ruthlessly. “Ivan will not be coming for you, he has been ordered to stay away or else I get to kill you. So you can call for him all night sweetness. No one will come to your rescue here.” He slid his fingers over her skin again and Autumn closed her eyes feeling his putrid breath on her face.

  Gregory was as ugly on the inside as his gnarled outsides were. He had greasy hair, bulging eyes, and a small slit that was to be his mouth though it had gashes in it as if he had chewed at it. This was finished with a crooked button nose and deeply pot marked skin. She would have felt sorry for him if it weren’t for his jagged teeth that were certainly going to rip her throat out in a moment. He shifted his weight then and crawled on to the bed slowly enjoying himself as he stalked his immobile pray. She could feel then what caused him to shuffle slightly as he walked; it was a significant difference in leg lengths.

  Her mind began screaming instantly, think...think Autumn...What to do...What to do... I need energy... Energy means life. Life means hope of being saved. She began looking for energy in the room. No. No energy in the room, none save him. Then her mind left the room and began searching and searching. Corridors and closed doors, Stair cases and high ceilings, and then a heat sent her hurrying towards it. A heat that burned brightly, strong and steady. She looked at the cloaked figure standing over a book on a desk, one that she suspected was not his own. He was tall and formidable looking, his pale fingers tracing the words on the page.

  Autumn stood her ground and spoke the words as clearly and as loud as she could in her mind, “Help me!” Then she felt herself being pulled back to her body and her eyes began to hurt as she realized that he was now resting on top of her. His gnarled hands were prying her eye lids open and asked cruelly, “Who are you calling out to? There is no one here.” Foot steps at the door sent him flying across the room as soon as he spoke the words though.

  The door opened slowly and a large cloaked figure stepped inside and asked, “What are you doing in here Gregory?”

  Gregory stood in between Autumn and the cloaked figure and replied surprised, “Why are you here?” Then he paused and said guiltily, “Nothing.”

  The cloaked figure hissed, “Do not lie to me.”

  Gregory countered, “I thought I heard someone calling out.”

  The cloaked figure seemed to take that explanation and was about to turn and leave, when Autumn spoke, “Wait.” The figure stopped jerkily and shoved Gregory out of his way slamming him into the wall.

  Then he approached Autumn cautiously, and stood staring at her now open eyes, “You are awake.”

  Autumn replied weakly, “Yes.”

  The cloaked figure pulled the hood from his head and a thick head full of black hair appeared. His skin was flawless, as most of them seemed to be, but he had feint blue veins running across his jaw line and temples. The effect was startling, that along with his eyes which were black naturally she guessed. He had high cheekbones and a strong jaw line that gave him a strangely handsome appearance. This was finished off with a proportionate nose and strong thin lips that were bluish though slightly lighter than the veiny highlights.

  He continued to stare at her unblinking, “Did you call me?”

  She replied timidly, “Yes.”

  Then he asked curiously, “Why have your eyes not changed?”

  Autumn blinked, “I don’t know.”

  Then he watched as Autumn’s eyes went searching for Gregory again, “Did he leave?”

  The tall man saw the look of fear in her eyes and asked, “Why did you call for me?”

  She looked at him and whispered, “I was scared.”

  The tall man asked then his eyes narrowing upon something out
of Autumn’s sight, “Why did you wake up?”

  Autumn replied with a little more courage, “I was in danger.”

  The tall man nodded understanding now, “You are safe now.”

  She replied almost a whisper, “Yes, now that you are here.”

  The air in the room got warmer and the candle next to her bed flared for a few seconds. Then the screaming began and Autumn’s body shot against the back of the head board behind her instinctively. She watched as Gregory’s body burst into flames as he ran from the room screaming. Then the cloaked man turned towards Autumn pushing his hands together extinguishing the flame there. Then he said smiling, “Your eyes look better now,” and he reached forward to touch her face and she jerked involuntarily.

  He jerked back in response to her startled response and his returned to the same distant look that he had begun with. “I will send someone to collect you.” Then he turned and left her without another word.

  Autumn sat unmoving and called after him, “Thank you.” She sat staring at the door waiting for someone to come and collect her. Luckily, she did not have to wait long, twenty minutes later, two large men walked through the door. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence someone spoke a command into the taller of the twos ear piece and he motioned for her to come with them. Then they stood at attention waiting for her to comply. Autumn looked at them pitifully and said admitting weekly, “I don’t think I can walk yet.”

  The two men dropped their guards and looked surprised, turning to look at her for confirmation. Then they argued over who would touch her gesturing for each other to do it. Then they both manned up and stepped closer towards her, slowly slid their hands out to help her. She slid her hands out to grab their hands and they pulled her off of the bed easily. She smiled at them, embarrassed as her legs wobbled and they broke into smiles as well. She tried in vein to take a few steps and her legs gave way.