by F. Bradshaw
I could swear I heard the piano playing, and I wanted to run toward it. I wanted to embrace the peace it would give.
Looking around, I could see my front yard. The whiteness was washed away by the color of here, home. Instantly, I clasp my hands to my chest, a heart beating there. The melody called me in. I knew it so well. I rushed up the porch steps and in through the screen door. She was there sitting in front of the piano, playing cheerfully. Her red hair. The smell of hairspray. Her hands were moving gracefully from one key to the next greeted me. She had sat there so many times.
I realized how much I missed her. The clock chimed; it was nearly eleven. The house seemed so alive, welcoming her into it. Everything about her was warm and kind. She was a bright star in day or night. She had kept the darkness in me at bay once. Why had I thrown it away? The coldness swept through me. Pulling me from my memory.
Hell. She was right. I was alone in this room with the lights baking me. The accident had happened, and she was still dead. They both were still gone. It was my fault. Damn Ash!
I felt icy, ridged, and stiff. Is this what a corpse feels when coming back to life? Sweet memories gone, my body still heavy. I could smell the blood’s savory notes awakening the monster. I moved long before realizing, pulling against my chains trying to get free. Blood. It smells so intoxicating. It was different from the first. This blood came from a carnivore. I could smell the meat, and the kill almost felt as if I had done it myself.
They moved the blood side to side, teasing me with each movement. I wanted to rip their hands off. Pull back the plastic suit, ripping away the white. It would crinkle in my hand. The warmth of their flesh beating against my mouth, begging me to open it, slowly sinking in my teeth, tasting the freshly washed skin. I would lick away the taste of their skin replacing it with their blood. The warmth pooling in my mouth sucking it back like a child would a snow cone. The warmth would invade every part of this shell. It was quiet, and I felt the pull of the blood.
“Be a good monster, and maybe you can have some.” I knew her voice. Jane.
I pulled harder against the chains. Rage surged through me. I was going to get free. This wolf would bite off her hand, and anything else I could reach. Twisting and turning, the metal snapped under my pressure. Movements blurred together, and I held her against the wall in the ridiculous hazmat suit. Everything in me wanted to tear her to shreds. A squeak escaped her throat as I closed my hand harder against it.
The things I wanted to do to her. The suit ripped open around my nails. The scent of her flooded me… bubble gum, too much perfume, powder, and him. She smelled like my Ryan. The room turned from white to red. Her pulse bringing in a deeper red with each beat. Her throat sucking in breath as I slowly closed it. End her, the monster screamed. The monster looked at me in the cold glass mirror knowing this is what I needed to do.
I had to stop. I just needed to take the bag of blood. She looked at me with eyes wide, almost as if they were going to explode. I let go of her but not the blood. I recoiled to the corner of the room, no place to hide. There was no darkness to hide the actions. Everything was on display here. What had I become? I sat down, back to the wall, knees to my chest, protecting the bag of blood. I drank it quickly, and I only wanted more. I searched around the room with greedy eyes, looking for more. The door was shut, and I could hear nothing outside. I did not want to move for fear of what I really could do.
“Ms. King, you need to return to your bed and lie down now, or we will be forced to take action.” Her voice was filled with panic and fear.
Jane was not going to order me around. I was not her pet dog. I didn’t move. I was not scared of whatever punishment they could have for me. Only two things left to do to me—starve me or kill me. The drugs wore off completely. I could see a light just on the other side of the mirror.
It was a two-way mirror. I did not want to stare at it long. I hated how I now looked. I could see the blood as it lined my deep, almost black lips. I tried to wipe it off, but I found myself licking it off my hands. Monster, plain and simple.
“Emily, I need you to get back over to the bed. We need to chain you for your own protection. You have not completed the change yet. I will bring in more blood if that will get you to go back to the bed.” His voice sounded nervous as it rattled through the unseen speakers.
Being in a room with a hungry monster, who only wanted you dead, was not something anyone would want to walk into. I looked at the glass, only wanting to see his face, his eyes. Why was I still thinking about him? Last I checked, he did not tell me they were going to turn me into a monster. His girlfriend tried to treat me like a dog and probably thought I looked like one. Stupid, Barbie!
“Please, Emily.” I could hear the genuine plea for me to do it. His voice trying to sound mellow and calm.
“If that girl ever comes in here or near me again, I am going to rip her to pieces, and no one will stop me! If you want me to get back in bed, then she gets the hell out of here and away from me.” Was that my voice? It was dark and threatening. It did not sound like me.
I could hear the craving of blood intermingling with my voice. If he came in here, could I keep myself from attacking him? Could I control myself enough to let him chain me down and feed me more blood? I felt compelled to hide with my arms wrapped around myself just to keep from killing anyone.
“She is leaving, and she is sorry for her behavior as am I. Can I please come in there and chain you down before the next cycle starts?” His voice so calm yet I knew he was begging me to let him do this.
I knew there would never be anything between us. He had seen me feed. He had been my victim. I eased my way back to the bed and lay as flat as I could. I had to be dead. The taste of him washed over my mouth again. Be dead, be dead, be dead, I chanted mindlessly to myself. He entered very cautiously looking for any sign I would move or something worse. I laid still.
He wrapped new cold, bulky, heavy chains on me. I watched his movement through the hazmat suit very carefully. Ryan walked out of the room quickly for a moment, and then he was back with the blood he had promised. I could not hold back, and rushed at the bag of blood. He pushed it to my face. I let my body lay limp, cold, and dead.
“Do you have to wear that thing?” I asked in between swallows.
“Yes, it is for your protection, as well as mine. It helps to hide the smell of blood that comes off humans.” He looked at me, mask down, trying to see into my eyes.
“It is not doing a very good job. I can smell you outside in the hallway long before you get in here.” Part of me just wanted to see something that was not covered in plastic and untouchable. I still craved for attention and feeling.
“You can smell my blood through the door?” He asked as if puzzled by my statement.
Was I just remembering his smell? I breathed him in hoping it was just my memory. No luck. He cautiously looked at me, as I smelled him.
“You just smell like a plastic bag of blood.”
His face turned away to look at the mirror. He slowly and carefully put his hands to his helmet and took it off. The wave of the smell of his blood came rushing over toward me. It made me think of the first time we met. I ran the memory in my head. I looked at his eyes. They were the bright green that was ablaze. He put the blood to my lips. I could not resist the blood. I did not need him to watch me as I guzzled it down, but he was unmoving. Ryan watched me with curiosity. Thump, it beat, but I was confused. I know when you are dead your heart stops. Why did mine beat?
“Mr. Jackson, you need to leave the room immediately. You are not properly dressed to interact with her.” It was a new voice—male, older? I was not sure.
He mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and left the room, taking the blood with him. I was still hungry. I could see myself so clearly in the mirror. He was probably grateful that someone had called him out. Then the voice of an all too familiar woman filled the room.
“You have been very difficult, breaking chains, and trying to kill
someone. When the change is complete, I will put you exactly where you belong—in a cage. You are nothing!”
I could hear something that sounded like a slap, but I wasn’t sure. Jane was pissed off at me. I had wounded her little ego. Serves her right for treating me like a dog.
The pain, I expected. It was something that was constant, always there just under the surface. I tried to relax my body. Maybe it would be relaxed enough to go dead. Maybe I would wake up somewhere, anywhere else. The darkness I could feel coming over me. It was a wave crashing over me repeatedly. As the feeling of glass and nails ripping through me continued, I just needed a release. I found one if only for a moment, in his blood. The memory was fresh and renewed. I licked around my mouth before settling into the darkness. The darkness I knew too well.
Chapter 3
I felt nothing. I could not move, and I don’t really think I wanted to. There was no pain in my limbs, or anywhere else. I was just hungry. I felt like a wild bear half stuck between hibernation and awaking hunger. My body and mind’s desire was simple—blood. I just wanted blood. Did not matter what I was, or what I looked like. I was a monster, plain and simple. A nagging voice kept saying don’t kill anyone. Would I have the strength to awaken and not immediately kill something? The hunger won out, and I opened my eyes.
I was still in the same room, although now the mirror held no illusions. I could see into the other room as if it were just a window. There were five people. I took in a breath to smell them out. I realized then I did not need to breathe as my body did not crave oxygen. Not wanting to arouse them to the knowledge that I could see them, I tried to look as though I was looking into the mirror at myself. I was not as ashen as before. I was a marble white with a tinge of blue. I still could see what lay just below the surface. Black snakes creeping up my arms and neck.
They could see my gaze looking though their mirror into me. I was nothing more than a dead animal waiting for the end to come. They were going to learn. I would find a way to teach them not to play with dead things. This dead thing liked to bite, and something in me told me I would love to get out and play. The monster in me could almost taste what their skins would feel like.
“Emily, we are going to have to transport you to a more secure facility. If you want blood, you will lay there nice and still. If you make any movement to harm anyone, you will be left to starve in that room.” I could see her staring at me through the mirror. I looked down and away from the evil woman. Why had she done this and how many others had she done this to?
I heard the door click open as they walked in. They had a large needle filled with more drugs. I lay still as one jammed the needle into my skin. Wait. I just needed to wait. I had time on my side. The three of them worked quickly to put better chains on me and drug me up. I wanted to look around to see their faces. Was Ryan one of them? They were rough. I am sure a human would have had a few broken bones by now. Two of them left the room. One touched the inside of my hand. It had to have been Ryan.
I had not smelled them as I did not think I would have had any self-control. The last one put the bag to my mouth. I looked up and watched them leave. I bit into it and drank deep. It spilled down my face and into my hair as I could not drink it fast enough. I imagine I looked like a kid with an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, licking it feverishly to keep it from melting away. The heaviness came back, followed by the darkness. The past of what had come before entered my mind playing out as a reel of film.
It had been quick and simple to be tested and approved. I hated hospital gowns and their sheet like design. Who was I, some elephant that needed to disappear behind the curtain? Abracadabra, anyone? Embarrassment aside, I made it through with no real problems. Blood donating was not bad. It was the skin samples from my body that hurt the most.
Mr. Jackson was tall with jet-black hair, with the ends just a tinge of red from being in the sun. His hands were strong yet delicate, and well taken care of. The teeth were perfectly white and straight as he said everything with a smile. Part of me wanted to know where granny was because he seemed a little too wolf like with a suave and debonair James Bond grin. The alluring green eyes seemed to burn with a hidden fire. Nothing in life is free.
“So are you ready for the procedure?” called Mr. Jackson.
“I…I…I am, just am a little nervous. Is it just going to be an injection and waiting period?” Oh no, here we go again, I can’t speak. Earth to Emily.
“Something like that, as described…”
I didn’t hear a word he said. Just his voice buttery smooth going over it again. Goosebumps ran down my arm with fierceness. Thump, thump my chest called to him for just one whiff of his scent. I tried to breath slowly, to not breathe him in. The goose bumps ran up my neck and through my hair. Stop right now. Danger signs were dancing in my mind. I was caught in the headlights, and this was a Mac truck heading straight for me on a downhill run.
“Emily, are you ok,” quizzically calling me back.
“Um…um…yeah, sounds good to me, Mr. Jackson.”
He looked at me through the reflection in the elevator door. Come on floor five. Please, just let's get this over. The red heat that cut across my face seemed to illuminate the steel reflection. All I needed now was to be naked, and this would complete the horror of my life.
“Call me Ryan, Mr. Jackson is more my father than me. You have nothing to be concerned about. Dr. Heart has taken all the necessary precautions and everything has been tested more than a hundred times.”
He said as though he were trying to comfort me. I looked down at his hands as they were flinching closed into a fist, and then opening again. He seemed nervous. Why was he so nervous? I was the one being injected. I was the one who was possibly being killed or deformed, maybe even both.
“Emily, we will inject you and then you will be in observation for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I hope you brought something to keep yourself occupied”
Part of me wanted to look up and see if that grin had returned, but the other half didn’t want to face the rush of heat that it would bring. The ride seemed longer than it should have, as if time had stopped. Did we somehow go higher than floor five in the hospital?
The scent of him teased my body. Every part of me warmed, and awoke with desire. Being alone in the house had made it easy to forget what wanting someone was like. It had been years since I had gone to live with them. Before Ash, and before that night. I closed my eyes holding in the tears.
“Yeah, I brought a few books to get caught up on.” I had read them a few hundred times, but maybe the ending would change. It was easier than thinking about a past I could not change.
“Ding! Floor Five” Mechanically, the elevator called out.
Had we just stepped off the elevator for the plastic surgery ward? The hospital was filled with Barbie clackers and Ken dolls like him. All of them belonged here, and I was far from this place. The floor was marble with a light honey tone of beige. The walls were not clinical white but a soft almond. Landscape photos of a farm dotted the walls here and there. A woman walked casually up to Ryan.
“Ryan, I am looking forward to tonight.” Temptingly, she stroked his arm.
She was a Barbie with the nametag of Jane. I looked up for a moment. She was tan, five foot nine, small delicate frame like a ballet dancer, with a sizeable upper half. I had never realized scrubs could be that form fitting on anyone. I knew she was being vague on purpose.
I was standing too close to him for her liking, and the bitch was marking her territory. Really? Wow, even in the Barbie world they act just like all the other assholes. I hated the sound of their heels clacking against the floor. It was like nails on a chalkboard slowly grinding down.
“Yes, I will see you later, Jane. I need to get Ms. King to the procedure room. We can talk later.” Ryan moved back, pulling his arm out of her reach.
I was no longer Emily in front of her. Universe must really hate me. Give and take, yet it always seems like more
take than give lately. Jane quickly brooded off clacking her heels as she went. I wondered if you could claim temporary insanity if you were to attack someone over the noise their shoes made. It would have been nice to take the stiletto heel and jam it into her temple.
“This way, Emily,” He said as he pointed his hand right, his voice calling me back to him.
Hell, today I did not mind passing the church with its sayings of the day on my way here. “God will save those who avoid darkness.” How do you avoid darkness? Stay cooped up in a church filled with blinding religious light? That never saved them. They still died. I am still alone. Burn it down. I wanted all of them just to disappear. I hated the “I’m sorry.”
We entered into the third door on the right. I could see outside, nice and overcast with a touch of fog. This was my kind of weather. This was the type of weather that you would never see the place of hell that they called God’s house. The room was private, and it had the same color of floor and walls as the entry. Two chairs looked surprisingly comfortable in their peach oversized roundness. A standard hospital bed with all the bells and whistles completed the picture.
“You will be given the injection in a few moments. Please change into the hospital clothes in the bathroom. They should be comfortable.” Ryan’s touch embraced my shoulder once more as he spoke.
I looked at the door and took a breath. How would they know my size? No sleeping, I would snore if I slept. I had not slept in the same house, let alone the same room as anyone else in more than five years. Disaster would strike without a doubt.
“I will leave you to get changed. Dr. Heart will be in here in a few minutes and then she will give you the injection. I will be back later to check in on you and see how everything is progressing.”
James Bond grin plastered on his face as he walked out of the room. The door squeaked a little as it opened. Creak, creak, creak as it opened wider. On a neat table lay my hospital clothes. They looked like scrubs. The light blue of them reminded me of the chair. Her teal chair that still sat alone collecting dust. The chair that would always sit empty. Just like my life, without her in it, empty. I wish she had been my mother, but then I probably would have killed her sooner. I always seem to kill those that love me. Promise to keep. For once, I would keep my word to her, my grandma.