'The Stuff of Nightmares'
The Stuff of Nightmares
Suddenly, and unbelievably,
the bleeding gash began healing itself, leaving no trace that it had been there, no pain, no scar, nothing other than a trail of blood that had dripped slowly down. I went and got a rag wet with warm water, thinking about what I had just seen. When I came back, I wiped off the blood with the white rag. I couldn’t help it I had to make sure that what I had seen was real, so after I cleaned the rag out, after he had dried off his chest, before he could close his shirt, I examined his tough chest. I rubbed my fingers up and down where the gash had been. There was nothing; he didn't even gasp in pain at the pressure of my fingers against where the wound had been. I looked up at Kries, and he studied my intrigued eyes, from only inches away. Becoming to flustered, I sat down.
There was silence for some time,
as we sat in a tight circle, while Kries redressed and then Alexis spoke.
“The precious gift we were given is a wonderful ones, as there are not many ways in which we can die. One: is of very old age and by very old I mean 600 years or so. Two, if the demons ever get the chance to take our hearts, which is very rare as we heal rather fast as you saws. Three, the most common, if we choose to allow ourselves to pass on, by not healing. A Greek can be turned into a demon however, if many demons surround an individual Greek. We can heal the frozen paralysis they cause with one or even up to as many as four surrounding us, but any more and well, it's rare if not almost impossible, but transformations have happened."
"I'm… I'm so sorry to hear that. I can't imagine what that would be like."
A tear fell down my cheek.
It was so sad to think that someone as nice as these two had been changed into something as horrible as a demon.
Kries rubbed my back gently. I turned and hugged him. I couldn't imagine the life he lived, knowing everything that he knew. The Greek's were all sort of related because they were all descendants from the same source. So in some sense he had lost family to the demons.
"We are here now, because one of our Ancients needs us,” he said standing up proudly, as if preparing happily for battle.
“So am I the only one who sees a potential problem?”
They both looked at me confused; obviously I was.
I threw up my hands,
“I don’t have your gene!”
Kries quickly answered this time, “Precisely why I thought it best you not come... at first, but grandfather and I were talking, and this could be a good thing.”
I looked at them, confused.
“Kries will be defending you, if there is any need for it. The demons will know nothing about you. But if something is to happen, you needed to know what you were dealing with, and if a demon ever tries to talks to you, you are a Greek. This is what the demon line look like.”* He held out an old photo. “The man in this particular picture happens to be the despicable leader at the moments, Dumitro.”
The picture was of a pale, blood-red,
long haired man, with stunning green eyes. He was definitely distinct, almost alluring. I felt a weird pull that kept me staring at him. Then I thought of something, as I looked up at Kries and Alexis.
“They won’t believe I am a Hatfield; I don’t have black hair, brown eyes, or skin.”
“Chloe is a Hatfield and she has sweet green eyes like yours. Not all Greeks look like Kries and me.”
“Do I need a different name?”
“No, not really, Clara Hatfield.”
Just then an envelope was submitted
to Alexis by the innkeeper. He opened it and reviewed it quietly. Then he passed it to Kries, obviously thinking hard.
“What? What is it?” I asked.
“It’s a drawing; sent to us from one of the Ancients, sent to him from the demons,” he said as he passed it to me.
“That’s really weird…” I looked at it surprised, wondering if this was a joke.
“Why’s that?” asked Kries.
“Well, I drew the exact same picture three weeks ago.”
“What!” they both exclaimed as they jumped up.
It startled me, and I could hardly say anything.
“Do you have the drawing?” Kries asked gently, calming himself.
“Yes.”
I got up and retrieved the folder that I kept my drawings in. I pulled it out.
They both stared at the two
identical pictures. Finally, Alexis spoke.
“Why did you choose to draw this?”
“I had dreamed it the night before I drew it. In my dream I was standing on a stone bridge, with a man, a…”
I turned and stared at Kries in sudden realization.
“Go on,” Kries coaxed.
“I…I…was standing on a stone bridge, with Kries, and we were looking into the rough water of a river, when I screamed, because I saw a young man in the white, rough water, dying miserably. Kries grabbed me, and quickly ran me passed a group of people, and over to this magnificent fountain…" I paused, "…and the rest is a little too weird to share…”
“Share!” they both yelled sternly.
“Alright… Kries took me over to the giant fountain, and suddenly I couldn’t see anyone, and he lied me down on his fur lined coat, next to the fountain, on some soft grass. Then he… then he…” I swallowed loudly. “…then Kries gently kissed me, and said you’ll be alright here. Then he sang some sort of chant around me, and left.”
I paused for a long time, remembering,
before going on. I looked down at my feet. Kries lifted my face up, and then rubbed my arms as he squatted down in front of me, encouraging me to go on.
“When you came back,” I said looking at Kries, “I wasn’t there; there was a very pale man…oh my god. It was Dumitro… he was lying on the stone bench, inside the protected circle. He knew you, and he said something like, pay closer attention to who is already inside the circle before you protect it. You demanded to know where I was, and he stood where I had been lying, and then he kind of morphed into or through the ground, you ran over to the spot, and because I had your coat which was part of you, you were able to follow.”
“Where did it take me?” Kris asked quietly.
“It took you to this sandy bottom, dark tunnel opening, where there were lit torches all around. You followed a stone pathway that led you up some spiral wide steps, and then opened an iron door. I was on a big red bed, still asleep. You woke me up and as we were about to leave, Dumitro showed up and wouldn’t let you take me… he said something like I need her, and then I woke up.”
“How many times have you had dreams like this?” Alexis asked.
“A lot in the past four weeks, but I drew them all out.”
I handed him the booklet with the drawings,
barely able to hold the weight of it in my hands. I suddenly felt so exhausted. It must of shown on my face, as Kries looked at Alexis and then pulled me up ready to lead me to a welcoming bedroom where I would be sleeping.
"Goodnight Alexis," I said, laying my hand softly on his shoulder.
"Goodnight dear. Oh, and you can call me Alex."
He reached up and patted my hand gently. I squeezed his shoulder affectionately, before letting go.
I really like the story form
Thank you! Following you!
-Frolicking Raptors
Good post, I am a photographer, it passes for my blog and sees my content, I hope that it should be of your taste :D greetings
Thank you! Following you!
-Frolicking Raptors