Hey everyone! I haven't logged on in months, but now I'm back!! Thank you so much to everyone who commented, it was actually what made me continue. Give me you opinion, please! It was really moving you guys. thanks.
chapter 2
The quiet street was filled with sobs. They were heart breaking, really. Etched with all the despair and sadness this world could offer, I was sure of it. It took me a few moments to realize they were coming from my throat.
Oh.
I didn't have to strain to talk- my body just sort of moved of its own. It took me a while to get used to, but it was better now. I wasn't horribly disfigured like I was in the beginning too. Or should I say the end. At first there was nothing, then just pieces from the earth and the surroundings, then thoughts. I could only pray I got the good thoughts.
It took some time for my face to settle, for my figure to become clear. I looked like myself now, I was aware of that when I passed a crystal door. At first I dragged my feet, now I just moved, floating in a human form.
The first time I fed was shocking too. Everything about this was. Every time I moved, every time I looked in the mirror by accident, I felt a cold fist sliding under my guts, rearranging things the way it would've if I was still human.
It was an old man on the street, my first feed. He smelled strongly of alcohol, and he wasn't bathed or anything. I didn't mind. I was actually trying to pull away with all my might. But the guy was already dead, and what was I denying him of? A normal burial? Was it that important to him if he was still alive? If he was dead, like me, I knew he wouldn't have minded. But I still tried to pull away, remembering Maria's face when she tried to hold back.
Her gentle face was always twisted with effort, her bright blue eyes always so hurt and agonized, and I just prayed I could understand her, somehow make it better. It was the same horrifying little skit every night until she gave up.
I always sat by her side, even though it was hurting me to watch the one that I love suffering like that. Her slim figure would always shake and tremble, as if some powerful force was pulling her towards the door, towards the kill. I knew she hated me being there, hated me having to see her like that, hating me to have to suffer too. But as long as she was there, and she was alive, I didn't care. I would've gone anywhere for her, done anything. That's what made me break my grip against the pull I could now feel.
Things were… strange now. I didn't find her yet. I could only hope she understood. That she understood why I did what I did. Why I pushed her away and went with the Immortal hunter myself. It was the first time I ever pushed her away, since the day we first met. And all I could do now was hope, hope that she could forgive me. I knew she thought I was dead. That didn't matter. Nothing did. Not anymore.
The pitiful sobs cut short as somebody entered the street, legs dragged. I could hear now, so much better then I could before. The all too familiar pull was pushing me forward, like strings leading a marionette, and I wanted to run, I wanted to leave. But this was the one thing this new body of mine could not obey to
. I focused on dulling my senses instead, focused on being as out of it as possible, so I don't feel anything. Feeding wasn't pleasant, it just wasn't unpleasant either; I couldn't define it. As much as I tried, I could hear my own sobs repeated, only softer. My body slipped smoothly into standing position, not sure what I could do. I wasn't strong. I had an urgent need to stay alive, but I wasn't strong enough yet.- I've been feeding on dead this whole time.
The figure at the other side of the street paused too. It seemed weak, distorted now that I could see it closer. I dragged myself closer to it, led by the instinctive pull. I closed my eyes, praying for the numbness that I knew would push me aside in my own mind, that I knew would help me grow and stay alive. And that was what I wanted right? To stay alive.
"No…" the whisper was just too familiar. It was tormenting inside, setting my mind on fire. It was the same whisper I heard the day I was found Maria, wounded from a bar fight, lying on the floor, waiting to die. And Maria had found me, her long black hair covering her eyes, like she was trying not to look, and the pained whisper slipped through her pale lips, the same whisper I recognized so well now.
I opened my eyes in a flash. She raised her hand at me, still not moving, as if asking me to wait. I wasn't sure if it was really her. All I knew was that the figure was shaking.
The pull was forcing me down, I couldn't resist. But Maria had resisted it, when she saved me. She brought me to the hospital; they didn't bother putting anesthetics. Too low on resources.
I saw her slip away from the room near the end, pain clear over her tear streaked face. She was crying then. And when she came back she was different. She looked healthier, and I was just happy that she looked okay. It was unreasonable; waves of relief swept through me, letting me really breathe for the first time in a long time. From the deep breath she took it looked like she felt the same way.
She was short, shorter than me, though most people were. She looked like she was from Moscow, or maybe Ireland, I couldn't be sure.
And she smiled at me, one small smile, much warmer than anything I expected. And at that moment I knew we were connected.
I could feel it now too, feel the bond between us calling out to me. And then the shaking stop, her figure still. "She's a real fighter this one," Maria's voice said, light and kind as ever, her pale, bloodless lips curved up into a smile. It was her lips, I could tell, and they moved with the same gracefulness only she could move in. But it wasn't her smiling. I was sure of that.
Bastard. Was all I could think.
"I got to her before you, didn't I?" Maria's voice sounded amused, and her bright brown eyes searched my face curiously, but they were wrong, not her eyes. "She's shouting now," The Immortal informed me, "she nearly took me there, the minute she saw you," and her head shook, making her long black hair fall off her back, as if in surprise.
I was too late, the chill froze my whole frame. Too late to save her.
And then the figure jerked, took one step back. Maria was still fighting for me. Again.
Maybe it wasn't too late, it wasn't her time, not just yet.
I wasn't strong. I knew I wasn't. But that didn't matter, not when Maria was here, was this close. The pull didn't matter, the still air that didn't reach my lungs didn't matter, and not this person that controlled her body now mattered. I was going to find a way.
