Bound By Blood Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Lauren walked down the crowded halls of the school, occasionally grimacing in pain when someone would bump into her. She waved at her teachers, nodding her head and stopping to talk with them for a bit, explaining she had been in the hospital due to a car crash. They would shake their heads and ask more questions, where it happened, when it happened, and why they didn’t hear about it on the news or in the papers. She shrugged most of the questions off and politely excused herself, telling the teachers she had to get to class before the bell rang. She walked into her psychology class and slipped easily into her desk, avoiding the glances her fellow classmates threw at her and the whispers that swirled around her. Miss Leverpool walked into the classroom, coke in hand, talking excitedly about the mind and its functions when her eyes glanced over at Lauren. Miss Leverpool stopped her animated lecture, staring at Lauren.

“I’m sorry. I just had déjà vu. When did you get back Lauren?” Lauren shifted in her seat uncomfortably, squirming under the teachers piercing gaze. She cleared her throat trying to find her voice.

“Umm, today actually. I was going to ask you for my makeup work,” she said in a slightly squeaky voice. Miss Leverpool’s gaze grew into steely stare, tapping her fingers on Lauren’s desk.

“Where have you been? Absence is something frowned upon in this classroom.”

“I understand Miss Leverpool. Umm, I was in a really bad car accident.”

“Oh really? Where was it?”

“Transylvania, ma’am,” Lauren answered softly. Miss Leverpool arched a brow at her student, scoffing in disbelief.

“Transylvania? The place doesn’t even exist,”

“It does, but only to those who really want to find it,” Lauren said softly. The class erupted in roaring laughter. Lauren shifted in her chair, scooting lower, trying desperately to disappear from the stares and glances thrown at her way.

“Did you go to Never Land too?” Miss Leverpool sarcastically asked. Lauren shot her eyes up at Miss Leverpool, looking at her in disbelief. She gathered up her books and slung her backpack onto her back, pushing past the teacher, making her way outside into the hall. Maybe she made a mistake coming back to school. She should’ve stayed in her bed, away from the hurtful world outside the white walls that imprisoned her.

When she left Amy was dead asleep and Roxanne, she had no idea where Roxanne was. Who cares? She thought to herself. It was easier to slip away. Listen to me, I sound like some Russian spy! She laughed at her thoughts and walked down the long hall, turning a corner, aiming for her locker. Kneeling down, Lauren slammed her fist against the locker, making it jump open. Stupid locker. A letter fell onto her knee, slightly opening to reveal familiar writing. Lauren looked around and leaned backwards until she was sitting down with the letter still perched on her knee. Hesitantly she unfolded the letter, looking down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. Her eyes scanned the paper and a smile emerged on her lips. Van actually wrote her a letter, a poem at that. She folded the letter back up into its neat rectangle, placed it in the magnetic basket on her door and stood up and kicked her locker shut. The lunch bell rang throughout the school and doors opened spilling forth students. She saw Christina by her locker and hurried over to her.

“Hey Chris!” Christina looked beside her and saw the grinning Lauren, standing three inches below her eyes.

“Bear! Where have you been?” Christina leaned against the neighboring locker, arms folded over her chest. Lauren shrugged her shoulders and stuffed her hands inside her back pockets.

“Oh you know, out and about,” Lauren shrugged. Christina looked at Lauren with an I’m-not-buying-it look. Lauren smiled widely at her.

“Ok, I was in a car accident last week and I wasn’t able to really return to school.”

Christina inhaled sharply and shoved Lauren hard against the lockers. Lauren groaned with despair and pain, while looking at the infuriated look in Christina’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Christina growled.

“I-I’m sorry! I had… a lot of family come visit… and the phone was pretty much off limits to me,” Christina gave Lauren a funny look and she brought her hands up in surrender, “I swear!” Christina stepped back from Lauren and gently patted her shoulder.

“Sorry about that love.”

“I’m sure you are,” Lauren replied coldly, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Speaking of loves, have you seen Van?”

“No ma’am. He hasn’t been here in, umm, three days,” Christina closed her locker with her foot and hoisted her backpack on her back. An attractive dark-haired man walked up and placed an arm around Christina’s shoulders.

“Oh, James this is my adopted little sister Lauren, Lauren this is my handsome Scottish prize, James Malcolm. James is the new foreign exchange student,” Christina smiled broadly at James who returned the smile and held a hand out to Lauren who respectively took it in her own.

“Actually, Chris here is more like me prize. Never in a million years would I have imagined me self calling a beautiful young woman me girlfriend,” James spoke in a thick, heavy accent and squeezed Christina’s shoulders a bit. 

“Very nice Chris and it was nice meeting you James. Well I’ll see you two later!” Lauren waved at Christina, making her way back towards her locker and leaned against it and sighed. This was one screwy week.

 

Roxanne crawled through the underbrush of the surrounding forest, pulling on her shirt occasionally, untangling it from snatching branches. She was on her hands and knees, scratches covering her arms and face, but quickly fading away. She crawled between two low bushes and fell down a small drop off. Her body tumbled and flipped down the embankment, tossing around like a rag doll. Roxanne rolled to a clumsy halt at the base of the drop off, she lay on her back, venom pooling around her. Titanium seeped through her skin and retracted back into her body, healed anew. She moaned in displeasure. Even though her body could be fixed so fast, the pain lingered. She gingerly sat up on her backside, and rose to her feet, brushing the dirt from her legs and her arms. Raising her arms, she brushed the dirt from her hair and proceeded to put her messy hair into an even messier ponytail. She adjusted the leather strap of her scabbard and started to move the dagger until it rested comfortably on her hip.

A playful breeze played with her body, making her shiver with a slight chill. I should’ve brought my cloak, she thought grumpily to herself. Roxanne allowed her arms to wrap around her, hugging herself, trying to keep warm. The playful breeze that started her shiver attack now transformed into an unrelenting wind, trying to knock Roxanne down with each forceful blow. She stopped under a large willow tree and started to gather dry wood and searched for flint stones. Soon she had a cozy fire licking the air and eating away at the chill in her bones. She huddled against the base of the aged tree, trying to maintain what little warmth she had circulating through out her. Out of nowhere, a song came into her mind without her consent, and without her permission, she began to hum to it. She growled at herself and barely parted her lips to allow her vocal cords to come to life, singing to herself.

“Someone holds me safe and warm; horses prance through a silver storm, figures dancing gracefully across my memories,” Roxanne sang to herself until she fell asleep to her own voice. A lone wolf howled to the full moon, its cry piercing the still night, jolting Roxanne from her short slumber. She instinctively grabbed her dagger and could feel her defense mechanisms kick in. Her teeth began to enlarge and she could tell her eyes had changed. She looked around, searching for the culprit who woke her up. Maybe I should sleep in the tree… Roxanne looked up into the tree and searched for a wide branch, preferably one that gave a protective crevice so she wouldn’t be prone to falling out. She couldn’t spot one so she had to just deal with sleeping on the cold ground.

Roxanne got up, instantly regretting it when a blast of cold air bit savagely at her face, and trudged through the leaves, picking up more sticks to put on the dimming fire. She had sticks protruding from her arms in no time and plopped down onto the ground, slowly feeding the fire, watching the fire grow with mesmerized eyes. The growing fire sparked memories in her mind, making her smile with happiness.

For the past eleven years, all she had was Lauren, until three years ago when Amy popped into their lives. Roxanne and Lauren grew up together, memorized each other’s thoughts and feelings. They knew what to talk about and what not to talk about, they knew what bugged the other and they knew each others darkest secrets, which was the same for them. When Amy found out they were vampires, she was in awe and wanted to become one. It was Lauren who gave the life-changing bite and it was Darius who ended her life.

Roxanne fought back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. She sniffed back a snob and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. She could feel her eyes growing heavy and gave into the sleep that swept through her body. She leaned against the nook in the tree and was asleep in seconds. An owl hooted in the darkness and took off in flight, scanning the ground for its prey.

 

Lara scribbled notes down on her pad, flicking through the pages of the potion book she found in the dark room. The candle flame cast dancing shadows along her face, making her face age in the dim light. Her eyes darted back and forth between the book and her feverish writings. The potion called for ingredients she never dreamed of, a bone of a sworf, whiskers from a cootelay, one feather from a nemaflor. Her brow furrowed with confusion, but she continued copying the potion. When her hand started to cramp up, she knew it was time for her to hit the hay. She gathered her inkbottles and pens up and put them away. She grabbed the large book and her pad, sliding it under her mattress. Lara slipped her clothes off and quickly put her nightclothes on, shivering in the cold air. She wedged between her frigid sheets, her teeth chattering until she grew warm under the sheets. Lara turned on her side, staring at the stonewall, wishing she could be home right now, she closed her eyes, wishing upon a billion stars in her mind to be home. Sleep overwhelmed her and her steady breathing filled the room.

Darius stood for a moment longer in the other room, his ear pressed against a small hole in the wall, listening for her breathing to signal him to move. Her steady breathing was inviting to his ears and he stepped back from the wall, walking towards his own door. He placed his hand on the handle of Lara’s door, quietly turning it until a click sounded, echoing throughout the hallway. His squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself, and softly opened the door. He stepped through the door, thanking Lara for forgetting to blow the candle out. Darius started to look around for paper with scribbling all over it; he found empty inkbottles and used pens, but no paper. He swore he could hear her writing something down. Damn it. I know she’s up to something. He turned around and watched Lara for a minute before moving over towards her. Kneeling down, he was able to look into her face, to see the way her hair fell into her eyes even when she slept. He happened to look down and noticed a small gap under the mattress. His eyes lit up and a smile came to play on his face. He stood back up and Lara’s hand shot out, grabbing his crotch.

“AH-H-H!” Darius cried in pain, biting his lip, this being the second time she had hurt him in this particular area.

“What are you doing in my room?” Lara asked in a concrete voice.

“N-nothing,” Lara squeezed harder, “A-ah-h, I was just checking on you,” he looked into her cold eyes and winced in pain as she squeezed even harder.

“If you keep messing with me, you won’t have any balls left. Oh wait. My mistake, you never had any. So then I guess this won’t hurt,” Lara put all her strength into her hand, squeezing as hard as she could. Darius started to cry and shriek with pain. Tears slid down his hallow cheeks and blood dripped from his lips. She released her hold on him and pushed him over, making him fall onto his back, whimpering in pain. Lara stood up and towered over him, placing her foot on his throat

“Did you know it only takes five pounds of pressure to crush the esophagus? Go ahead and say the word, and I’ll do it.” Darius could only whimper and hatred flashed in Lara’s eyes. She kicked him in the ribs, screaming.

“Say it!” Darius only whimper some more and she took her foot off his throat. Lara watched him with amusement while he flopped around on the floor trying to get to his feet. He had to resort to crawling on his stomach like the snake he was to the door. When he was partly out of the door, she kicked him in his backside, helping him out of her room. She slammed her door, a wicked smile on her face and headed over to her bed. She removed the spell book and slipped it inside her pillowcase. Who cares about the pad, she thought to herself as she climbed back into bed, he wouldn’t know what it was for anyways. Hmm, maybe he’ll think I’ve gone crazy and kick me out. But she knew Darius would never stop his unrelenting quest for her, she had to give him credit though he never gave up. She finally fell asleep after awhile, not caring if Darius was still outside her room.

Darius tried to get to his feet but couldn’t find the strength to do so. So he started to crawl down the hallway, cursing the women species under his breath.

“Damn her. She…will not get away…with this…,” he stopped talking; finally figuring out it was consuming some of his much needed energy. Push by agonizing push, he pushed himself down the cold passageway, grunting and moaning with a mixture of pain and force. It took the wounded vampire twenty minutes to crawl to his room, a journey that would normally take three minutes. Sweat rolled in streams down his face, dripping into his eyes, the salt stinging unmercifully. He could see his large, worn oak door five feet away, tantalizing him, seemingly teasing him. Darius growled and lunged forward, ramming into the door with his shoulder. The door shot forward and Darius fell inside halfway into the room. He clutched the doorframe and dragged his body upwards, slowly ascending to his feet. Venom rushed to his head, thundering in his ears, he staggered backwards and hit the wall behind him with a thud. He stumbled into his room and slammed the door.

Leaning against the door, Darius stood there for a moment to allow the thundering to cease. His feet automatically shuffled towards his bed, his head swimming and pain traveling through his body. His knees buckled under his maimed body and he crumpled onto his large bed. A lone wolf cried out in despair, his shrill cry ringing throughout the castle. A shiver crawled down Darius’ spine, making him shudder and shiver. He cast his eyes to his right and reached for a book. It was a book of poems and short stories, poems about death and poems about love, stories about death and about love. His fingers parted the pages, opening to a poem that was strange to him, one he had never read before.

Those divine eyes cast upon my soul

And I beg the devil to withdraw his deadly toll

Blood drips from my fingertips

Whispering words escaping my lips

All there is left is you and me

Dancing to our own melody.

 

Deep inside the depths of Hell

None can hear the ringing of the bell

My ears twinge with the pain

And I know I am no longer sane

But all there is left is you and me

Dancing to our own melody.

 

Her face is cast into the dancing inferno

I now understand, I have now reached an all-new low

I have stooped to her own level

I have become one with the devil

 

Darius’ eyes slide back and forth, examining the words, rereading them again and again. Lara popped into his mind, her wind-swept hair playing against her strong face, her brown eyes melting his heart of steel, and her laughter breaking his resolve. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the image and continued to flip through the pages until he came across one of his favorites.

The Form

 

Tears sliding down her face, her eyes showing her pain. She crawls to the dark corner she has grown to love. She feels safe here in her private tomb. Locked away in her dark cold room. Shudders and sobs shaking her body, the words replaying unwillingly in her mind. Alas, more tears slide down her pale face. Her dark hair covers the tears she wishes she wouldn’t shed. She can hear the screams seeping through the crack of her door. She casts a saddened glance towards the door, shadows dance along her floor. Someone is pacing down the hall, and someone else is following.

A loud slap, a muffled scream, a body hitting the floor, and she cries some more. The door handle begins to rattle and a booming voice roars at her. She cowers closer to wall, pulls her knees closer to her chest and begins to rock back and forth; soft whimpers escaping her bruised lips. Persistently, the handle continues to rattle and shake. She glances towards her window, hoping she had the courage to run. An earsplitting roar and her door gives way, revealing the angry form behind her door.

Her heart begins to pound and the form stomps toward her. Shooting a large gnarled hand out, the form grabs a handful of hair and yanks her to her feet. The angry Form drags her out into the hall, extends its hand and brings it down across her small face. She bites down on her lip so she won’t cry out. Blood trickles from her bottom lip and she can taste the metallic substance. Tears slip down her cheeks; the hand repeats the action making her scream this time. She can feel herself being lifted into the air and thrown back into her safe haven. She locks the door and wobbles towards her cluttered closet. She digs under large bags until she finds the small shoebox.

She pulls out the small pistol she sneaked out of the Forms room. Her small hand grazes the side of the pistol and she places her finger on the trigger. Her door begins to shake again and the angry voice screams at her again. She walks over to the quivering door and she releases the locking mechanism. The door bashes against the wall and she lifts her small hand wielding the weapon. The Form stops dead in its tracks.

This time, its eyes fill with fear. One last tear slides down her face, and her finger snaps towards her palm. The resounding blast pulsates around the walls that encase her in her hell. The Form falls lifelessly to the floor, alongside her mother. Her heart skips a beat and she drops the gun to the floor and scrambles to her closed window.

She pushes and pulls with all her might and with a soft creak the glass breaks free from the rust and grime and flies open. The night air hits her in the face, blowing her hair back to reveal two large bruises on her cheeks and her bloody lip. She turns back one last time to look at the Form and her mother and with one last thought she runs back to her mother and places a soft kiss on her cheek and dashes back to the window. Her small hands grab the sill and she lifts her leg over the opening in the wall and soon the other leg follows. She lets go of the sill and her feet hit the dirt.

Sirens screaming, lights flashing, the police show up and she runs straight for one telling him her dirty deed. She tells them what the Form did and she shows them her face. A young officer walks up to her and offers her his hand, promising her she can’t be hurt no more. She takes his hand and he leads her to one of the cars and gives her a blanket to wrap up in. He softly picks her up and places her in the back of the car, and she snuggles deeper into the blanket, the Form not haunting her any more.

Darius smiled, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. He closed the book, letting it fall onto his torso. His eyes started to droop and he found himself drifting off into deep sleep.