Ileana Berrisford

I opened my eyes slowly, afraid to move too quickly.  My head was in her lap, and she was stroking my face, humming a soft tune to comfort me, something I didn’t recognize. Her hands were frozen like she had been holding them in ice just before she touched me, I jerked my head away from her chilling fingers, and she took it as a sign that I did not want to be touched by her. She laid my head gently on the pillow and crossed the room. Her hands were cold yes, but that wasn’t the reason I jerked away, the touch of her hands made me feel something I wasn’t yet ready to accept let alone deal with. She gave me a halfhearted smile, and got up and walked toward the door. She pulled it open and with one last look back at me, walked out. I lay back on the bed for a minute and covered my eyes, then shot up and shut out the light.

The sounds of curtains being forced open woke me up with a start; I shot up and looked around, Ileana was parting the curtains to let the rising sun in to wake me. I studied her very carefully, looking for some resemblance or connection between us. Her deep brown curls hung perfectly past her petite shoulders, nearly matching the color of her brown eyes. She stared around the room absentmindedly, looking but not really seeing. I sat up slowly on the bed making it known that I was awake and aware. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and shook my body awake, all the while continuing to stare at her. She believed I was her Price, her son born nearly a century ago. This knowledge shocked me, yes, but something else shocked me even more. I found myself believing her, falling under her spell of words. She turned suddenly abandoning her small task of bringing light into this room, which looked more like an expensive hotel suite than a bedroom used for the abducted centuries old children.

Her eyes bore into mine with a strange intensity. She looked so young and precious, but her eyes were the key: There was no way I could believe this girl was the seventeen year old child standing in front of me. She smiled a wide smile as she crossed the room, her eyes never leaving mine the entire way. She sat down beside me on the bed, and hesitantly reached her hand out toward me. She moved slowly, probably not wanting a reaction similar to yesterdays. She stroked my face softly. “How do you feel?” she asked in her impossibly warm voice. It was hard not to like her, the curves of her full lips turning upward in a smile of genuine happiness as she tugged forcefully on my hand, and motioned for me to follow her.

 Ileana’s maternal instincts must have been thrown into full force as soon as I arrived; she chattered none stop about Price and his brothers, which she declared an unstoppable force. She gave me an extended tour of the building our secrets were stashed in. According to her the building ran several feet underground, beneath an old apartment complex that had been condemned. It had several rooms and was large enough that not even she knew how many people lived inside it. She had been here for several weeks, only told that she had to wait for Dominic’s inevitable return, no matter how lengthy his—as she declared—“hunting trip” lasted. She showed me to a large library and even larger dining hall. It took the whole day for my eyes to adjust to the entire dimness of the building and its rooms. Every room was different in style and colors, unlike the Victorian style décor mine had. Some rooms were more contemporary, and had more outlandish colors. Although all the rooms were different in these aspects, they all shared one common element. With the exception of mine and Ileana’s none of the rooms had lights. All were instead lit with small torches along the walls that carried a continuous flame. At the time I had stored this knowledge away for later examination. A week flew by under Ileana’s smothering attention; I found myself losing time and days. It was hard not to, when she spoke it felt so natural to just listen until she was done and be hungering for her to speak more in her beautiful voice.

I found I had forgotten why I was so frightened, what exactly Dominic was aside from a murderer and not caring why this beautiful woman thought I was her son born a little over a century ago. She told me of her sons, Price’s love for literature, Wesley for science, and Vince’s love for the unnatural. She told me he troubled her most of her sons, with his dark nature and his lack of optimism. She told me if she had to pick a favorite it was Price, for his humor. He made her laugh near to tears. I listened along for hours learning as much as I could, and while I still couldn’t believe her I didn’t out right deny her again, I found myself valuing her friendship more  and more and I didn’t want to upset her.

It was Monday—at least I thought it was—and Ileana and I were sitting in the library. She was scavenging for books she used to read to me, and I was sitting watching her fluid movements. Every step she took was so determined and focused, everything she did had some hidden purpose behind it, never a wasteful moment or sentence came from her. She would always say that time is something to value, because not everyone has eternity to figure it out. While this puzzled me, I found it somehow oddly true. I sat very still thinking about all that had happened, when the large door to the library swung open and startled me; I nearly fell out my seat. A tall man walked in, face turned downward, studying a book. His short light brown hair was all I could see. “Ileana?” he said tentatively, as he looked around the shelves, not noticing me sitting at the table. “Oh” he exclaimed as he spotted her “I thought you might be in here. Listen, can you read Latin? I’m in a bit of snag, I’m wanted to translate this for Rae and found I couldn’t read a word of it. Ah, well, my memory must be a little off these days. All this staying underground is not very good for us, is it?” “Declan, first off, I haven’t seen Latin in decades and second, Rae can speak Latin, why don’t you just ask her to translate it for you, it would save a lot of trouble.” She spoke kindly but I could tell she was slightly annoyed, that he had interrupted her search. I couldn’t see either of their faces, with his back to me and Ileana being so short he blocked her completely. “Wait!” He tilted his head up and appeared to look around behind Ileana. “What’s that awful smell?!” he cried, choking with disgust. “It’s probably me, you always hated the way I smelled.” She tried to laugh it off, but she was clearly bothered by something.  He snapped his head around and was in front of me so fast that I wasn’t even sure I had even fluttered an eyelash, before he was across the room. His light brown eyes bored into mine, face scrunched up in disgust; clearly I was the reason behind the smell, which I found hard to believe I happened to consider myself a very clean person. I didn’t drop his gaze; I was tired of being intimidated. It startled me as I heard a low snarl build up in his throat, and his eyes widened in disbelief, “No!” he cried, and then he sprang, I fell hard to the ground out of my chair, as his hands closed around my throat, each second getting tighter. My hands went to the ones wrapped around my throat, clawing at the skin. He didn’t even flinch as my weak nails tried to dig into him. I heard a horrible gurgling noise and realized I was making it as I struggled for air. I tried kicking him, but only managed to let him get a better hold on me. I felt my eyes start roll and before I could wrap my head around what was happening, Ileana let a scream of fury as she leapt at Declan. She managed to knock him off me, and distract him from attacking me again. I sucked in air, and it burned as it flowed too quickly into my lungs. My eyes blurring as I tried to see what was happening with Ileana and Declan. He had her in a pin, holding her arms behind her back as he growled. I jumped to my feet and ran to tackle him; I only got a few feet before he jumped up and closed one hand around my throat, while the other still bound Ileana. He stood still holding us both, and lifted me a few inches off the ground. I was struggling for air and struggling to make sense of it all. He was just an average guy, no bigger or stronger than I was, yet he was lifting me off the ground. His eyes met mine and I saw pure venom in them, he hated me beyond all reason, “No!” Ileana screamed, “He’s not what you think Declan! Declan! Listen to me!” she sobbed, “Look at me! He’s been here for a week, I’m fine, I really am” she whispered the last part as if she were a little unsure. “If this isn’t what I think, then what the hell is it?” His grip on my throat loosened with every word. He let me fall to the ground and stood over me. Ileana shrugged out of his grip and ran to me arms pulling me close. We were both out of breath, panting hard; Declan’s back was to us, his shoulders shaking.  “Who is it?” he asked softly, “P-Price,” Ileana stuttered. He shook his head as he spoke. “I—I can’t, Ileana, I just can’t” he said defeated, “No! You can. It’s not his fault!” she screamed at him. I was at a complete loss trying to follow the conversation, what was he talking about, why was Ileana so afraid. He turned around, jaw clenched, eyes set, and suddenly his mouth opened to reveal a pair of finely pointed fangs. I let in a sharp intake of air. “Impossible,” I muttered.  He lunged at me, snarling. I didn’t even try to move, my eyes wide in disbelief, frozen to the spot. I saw his eyes, which held the same look Ileana had sometimes, looking but not really seeing as he came closer. I closed my eyes as he crashed on top of me, waiting for the pain…