Prologue and chapter 1 - don't worry, it's rather short.
Enchantment
Prologue
A thousand tiny daggers stabbed at my throat. Not again, I thought in despair. Please, just not again.
No such luck.
"You're not sick," the doctor said firmly.
I bet he doesn't have to live with tiny little swords in his throat. "Right."
My tone must have sounded bitter because he raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky, young man."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. My hands clutched at the padded bed, ripping the scratchy cheap paper that covered it accidentally. Why didn't they understand?
"See?" My mother asked in the car. "You can go to school, now I don't understand why you always insist –" I let my eyes glaze over, turning the complaints into white noise. The pain was so real. But she didn't understand.
A long, sharp blade cut through my throat again. I smiled, barely wincing. "Yes, mom." Even my voice sounded normal. I’d grown used to it. "I'm off to school." I waited patiently until I heard her car drive away from the front of the school parking lot before stepping heavily to class. "Kate!" I called, disoriented as she was sitting in my seat, staring at the window.
"Hey, Reid." She smiled widely at me. Her alabaster skin seemed even less healthy than usual – too pale, too thin. Her deep brown curls swirled around her thin face as she turned her head to look at me. "How have you been doing?" Her misty hazel eyes flickered to my throat and away.
I nodded solemnly before throwing my bag on her chair, sitting on the desk instead. "Not too good, actually…" I said in a low voice.
Kate's gentle hand flew to her mouth. "Can I do anything?" she asked mutely.
I avoided her eyes. "Do you have it ready?"
"Oh." From knowing her so long, I recognized the change in her tone. Excitement.
"I thought we said no more experimenting."
I twitched uncomfortably on the desk. "I've been dying to knock some sense in that old doctor at the infirmary, Kate, I can't hold on much longer."
Kate nodded, her hazel eyes big. A small smile spread across her lips. "Sure. If you need it."
I flexed my fingers nervously. "Kate, I'm… I'm not proud of it or anything. I didn't ask for this curse."
Kate put one thin hand on mine, her gaze suddenly intense. "Not curse. Gift."
Chapter one
"Ouch, Kate, damn it – you're stepping on my foot!" I complained in a whisper. I tried to make the shapes of the trees in front me clear as Kate pushed me from behind.
"Then walk faster!" she hissed.
"So, do you understand the plan?" I went over it one last time, just to make sure. Kate's alabaster skin glowed as if her head was floating in the air, her body that was covered in black clothes just faded into the darkness all around us. Her teeth glinted in a wide smile.
"Yes," she said softly, checking the surroundings. "Okay, so apparently not," she hurried to say when I winced at the pain in my throat. This was why being with Kate was so easy. The pain went away.
I kept my voice low, eyes scanning the groomed yard of the hospital wing. "Kate, this is how it's going to happen: we sneak in, try not to get seen, enter the doctor's office – I'm sure he's still there, I – I do my thing, and then we leave."
I turned around to see her face. Kate's head nodded, serious. "What if we get seen?" she whispered.
I thought about that for a second. The perfect backup story. "I was sick and you were taking me here." I smiled grimly. "After all, they wouldn't be surprised by my file."
"And what do we say about wearing black clothes like robbers?" she raised a brow at me, triumphant.
"Haven't you heard?" I widened my eyes innocently. "Black is the new red!"
Giggling, we continued through the open doors and into the white hallway. Every shadow made Kate jump, but not me. I was used to it. We edged slowly with silent footsteps toward the offices.
The grey walls seemed higher and more menacing than ever.
"Stay outside," I ordered wordlessly. Kate's mouth pulled down at the corners, and she folded her arms across her chest. I ignored the soft aching in my throat. I'd make her understand later on. It wasn't pretty – not something I ever wanted her to see.
I turned the knob of the door smoothly with trained fingers. The man in the white coat didn't even notice. His office was just like every morning; no windows, grey walls, a desk with six pens all aligned in a row with an old computer buzzing loudly on it, and a little bed for patients. God, how I hated this room. I coughed loudly, choosing my course of action, sliding the door shut behind me. "Excuse me, Doc?"
I saw the man jump, his white coat flapping lightly. "Oh, hello –"His brown eyes squinted, trying to remember. "I'm – I'm sorry, but who are you?"
I've been coming to the same clinic, with the same doctor for about five years, at least three times a week, and he still didn't remember. Maybe he was getting what he deserved.
Surprisingly, my throat didn't ache at his confusion. He must have a pretty good guess at who I was and why I was here. Lying, then.
"That doesn't really matter." I made my tone soothing. "I'm here to make you understand."
The man's tiny brown eyes squinted further, his grey hair becoming slightly damp with sweat. "Now, listen here boy –" he began, but I was already at it. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness engulf me, concentrating. Slowly, his voice started fading. I focused on the pain that I felt each morning, ripping my throat apart. Not something I could ever forget.
And then… the pain of others. They slowly faded into awareness, making my control slip ever so lightly from my grip. I let the flood of pain take over, shrinking into a corner in my mind, my eyes now open.
I saw everything. Everything I didn't want to see, but had to see, had to make him see. Every time he hurt someone, every time he blew off pain, like mine. Apparently this guy had history. He cheated on his girlfriend when he was younger; now he had to feel what she felt. He had to feel every stinging tear of a child he had to take blood from, every single stab in my throat for the last five years. Every emotional pain he'd caused during his life.
Just for a moment, I thought that it might not have been for the best. I wanted him to understand, not to die emotionally. I cut the stream of pain that kept coming, short tempered – I wanted this over with.
The doctor gasped, cheeks pale, eyes wide in terror. He made a pathetic gurgling sound as if he was about to pass out. I waited quietly for him to gather his thoughts, gaze locked intently on the white tiled floor. Let him get it out of his system first.
"Get out!" His voice was scratchy, definitely not menacing. "Never come back!" I let him blabber on, knowing he didn't mean any of it. Yet. When his tone rose above a whisper, and the rasping became worse, I finally looked up.
"Do you understand now?" I asked calmly. He was too scared to form an answer, and I hated my voice for being so chilly. My throat throbbed slightly.
"Death angel!" He rasped.
"Not quite over the ranting yet, huh?" I waited slowly as he met my frozen blue eyes. "Do. You. Understand?"
A low whimper escaped his lips, that were now as pale as his cheeks, and he looked terrified.
No, scaring him to death wouldn't be so great either. "Look, I'm on your side," I tried explaining, taking a step toward him. Not a very brilliant move.
"Stay back!" Some authority seeped into his voice. His small brown eyes flashed, still wide with fear. Maybe I hadn't scared him enough.
"I can make it come back," I said quietly. "If you hadn't learned your lesson yet… I can make you see it all again, feel it all." I flinched at the pitch my voice had taken. I was scary. And I wasn't ready to admit it to myself yet.
As soon as I said the words, I knew I hit a nerve. The man started shaking, whatever color that returned to his face draining. "Don't," he begged. I felt my chest grow cold and I froze in place. He just had too, didn't he?
"Come on," I said through grounded teeth, "just say you understand and I leave you alone. I'm not here to hurt you." But it didn't seem like he even heard me. The shivering grew stronger, and his lower lip trembled. "That's all I need. Just say you're sorry, and you're redeemed." Sadly, I added in my mind. It seemed like they always needed a bigger punishment than that.
"No," he spat through his teeth.
"Stubborn old man," I said, jaw clenching. My throat ached. He was understanding something wrong… "I'm not the angel of death," I said slowly, frustrated.
The shaking gradually stopped. He seemed to believe me.
"Now," I continued, pleased. "You need to tell me you understand the pain you inflicted, and I tell if you're telling the truth."
The man bobbed his head weakly. "Fine," he said, weary.
I should use this more often, I thought to myself, noting it down. Telling the victim exactly what's going to happen might take off his stress level. That was important.
"Do you understand?" I held his gaze gravely. His watery brown eyes looked into mine, frightened. I could only imagine what it took to hold my gaze.
"Yes," he said faintly.
My throat didn't burn. I felt a relieved smile stretch across my lips.
"Be nicer to people, will you Doc?" I asked as I slid the door open again.
He didn't answer, but I saw his figure slump on the floor. Better send the janitor in later, just to check he's still alive.
I found Kate on the other side of the door.
"Enjoyed the show?" I asked wryly, voice hushed. I started taking big steps forward when she answered, struggling to keep up.
"You knew I was listening?" Her tone was grim, a tad curious.
I shrugged. "You're trying to keep a secret from the guy who can sense lies, misunderstandings and truth slanting of any kind. What did you expect?"
Kate almost cut through my sentence with her question, hurrying through the words, not keeping her voice level. "He screamed. When you did what ever you did, he screamed his lungs out." She shuddered.
I blinked. "Really?"
Kate stopped walking, pausing near the green bushes of the garden. "You didn't hear?"
I shook my head, feeling my stomach twist. "This… doesn't make me bad, does it?"
Kate didn't answer. She took the necessary steps to walk onto the street, and I followed just as silently. My question still hung in the air.
"Even if you are bad," she hesitated, her right hand pulling lightly on her left curls like she did when she was stressed, "I'll still be your friend."
I walked quietly, absorbing that information. I knew all along that she'd be there for me no matter what, but the statement just made it more official. I didn't know if I should feel bad or good about it. Good, obviously because I couldn't spend a day without her. Bad, because she was stuck with me.
"That sounded cliché," I heard myself snort.
Kate laughed, and the air around us felt like it physically loosened.
"Let's go to my house for pizza," she suggested, her good nature returning at once.
"Sure." I already felt comforted. If I had this gift, then I had it for a reason, and I was doing the right thing. And I had Kate to support me, and a life to live, despite the terrifying things I could do. Kate already acted like none of this had happened; maybe… maybe I should do the same?
