Walking Delusions

a/n: An update! Seriously. I forgot about this until someone reviewed for me. Thanks SightSoBlind! You inspired me to post the next chapter. I hope you continue to enjoy!

On another note, this story is finished so I'll eventually get around to posting all the chapters. It has about twenty-two chapters and an epilogue. Thanks for reading! And enjoy!

Warnings: Hmm. Some strangeness. A flashback/dream sequence. Blood-drinking. All that good stuff.

Walking Delusions
Chapter Three: Sense of Insanity

I sleep, walking in a dream, destinations unknown,
Lost in a delirious state of mind,
Following doors that lead to empty walls.
I know he is here, somewhere in these myriad corridors.
It is more like he is behind me, beside me, within me.
I can feel him, hear his breath, and sense his movements.
I cannot see him, cannot see his eyes,
And look into his soul, like a mirror of my own,
A mirror with two sides, two ways.
When did I become blind?
Will I wake up alone, forgotten in sorrow?
And bathed in the blood?
Of the innocent, of the guilty, drenched in the tears of truth,
Back into reality losing myself in his insanity.

I awoke to the feel of someone shaking my shoulder, not meanly, but with gusto. I opened my eyes groggily, my vision a bit blurry. I thought it was Melath who had woken me, but I really couldn't be sure. Never said I was a morning person.

I sat up, stretching out my tired limbs and muscles. The bandages on my wrist were smaller now, apparently healing better, but my neck still felt as if I was wearing a cast or something. It was painful to move, but I pushed past it, determined to be somewhat helpful to my rescuers. My gaze flickered around the campsite, finding the location of the others.

Ryou was stamping out the last of the dying embers of the fire and spreading the ashes, trying not to make it look too conspicuous. He picked up the stones surrounding the small pit and flung them far and wide, scattering the rocks in several different directions. His lips moved as if he were muttering irritably to himself. That was when that I noticed the slight water stains on the front of his robes. Perhaps he had been the one sent to do the dishes.

Still, I found his behavior concerning the fire slightly disturbing and suspicious. He acted as if the group was being followed or tracked. I began to question my saviors internally. But wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt, I decided I would save my questions until I could speak to them in their own language.

I sat up, my eyes flickering towards Ivory who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, her broad axe stretched across her two knees. She had an oddly shaped stone in her hand and was rubbing it across the blade of the axe, occasionally blowing on it, sharpening the edge. Even from that distance, I was able to hear her humming as she worked. Not exactly a lullaby, it was some fierce battle tune with an upbeat. I wondered if they expected battle.

Melath was sitting on the ground in front of Ivory watching her as she worked. He was chewing on something that looked a lot like beef jerky. He sat with the straight back, as if someone had fused a metal rod to his skin and he could not sag. Poor him, I would hate to have to sit like that. He did not appear to be too busy. Perks of being the leader I supposed.

Vincent was standing off to the side, apart from everyone else. He was staring off into the distance, in the direction I guessed we were to head. His pack lay at his feet, open with a few of the contents barely visible to me; some type of dark colored cloth, a grey stone, and something that flashed in the sunlight but I could not make out what it was. Such an enigma, this Vincent was, and my innate curiosity perked.

Deciding, I should be lazy no longer, I got up off the blanket and picked it up from the ground. I shook it off, twigs and dirt flying everywhere and nearly choking me with the resulting dust cloud, before I folded it up neatly. I tucked the soft, dark grey fabric under my arm and walked over to Ryou who was dumping dirt on the last of the firepit.

“Good morning, Miss Anne,” he greeted with a pleasant smile, eyes lighting up with clear pleasure in seeing me.

It was slightly baffling. And it wasn’t until I approached him that I noticed the tall fighting staff that he held in one hand, looking more like a weapon than something a mage would use.

I returned his easy smile, surprised at his friendliness. “If you want to call it that,” I managed playfully. “How do you say thank you?” That was what I really wanted to know, determined to show gratitude towards the man who had given up his warmth for the night, even if he didn’t want to reminded that he was human.

That baffled me even more than Ryou’s quick friendship. Vincent might have seemed slightly elvish himself, but he seemed human and certainly didn’t appear to be a monster. He wasn’t acting bloodthirsty.

Ryou furrowed his brow, scrubbing a slightly dusty hand over his chin. “Why?”

“Why else?” I responded, pointing to the blanket in my hands, neatly folded and all ready for returning.

He rolled his eyes, clearly amused by my intentions. His brown gaze flickered to Vincent for a moment before he chuckled, returning his attentions to me. “I thought I warned you about that, but if you insist. The words are c’surld fai.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Custard Pie?” I hated the stuff. It was yellow and it squished. Did that bring to mind any appetizing thoughts? Didn’t think so.

He burst into laughter, attracting Ivory’s attention and causing her to cease in her singing. “I am not sure what that word is but no.” He shook his head, sucking in a breath as he tried to control himself and replace his amusement with seriousness. “Say it like this: Kuh-sir-elld fuh-ai.”

“C’surld fai,” I said softly, rolling the words around on my tongue.

It was unlike any language I had ever heard before, vaguely resembling a mix of French, Spanish and Italian. Repeating the words over and over in my head, I turned and headed towards Vincent.

He had not moved since my earlier perusal, his back still to his companions and facing the far horizon. He seemed to stand there completely relaxed, the sharp yet broad lines of his back a welcome distraction from the emptiness of the plains before us. I knew that behind me were the mountains that the Ectows dragged me over a few evenings before.

As I approached, my hands suddenly began shaking as nervous fluttered in my belly. There was something about him that unsettled me. It was not fear; he did not scare me. No, it was something else, something I could not quite place or figure out just yet. Maybe it did have something to with the fact that he was the epitome of my every wet dream, but I’m sure there was something else as well. Some entirely unconscious instinct that used to lay dormant until I arrived in this world.

The sound of my footsteps must have alerted him to my presence because he turned around just as I paused directly behind him, his body half twisting as he stared at me, the fool who had interrupted his quiet time. Perhaps this was not a good idea after all.

“Vincent, c’surld fai,” I stammered, somehow managing not to say ‘Custard Pie’ and coming out mostly coherent. I held the blanket out to him, silently praying he would just take it and let me run away in nervous glee.

Instead, he arched one of his dark brows at me, something indescribable behind his golden eyes as he stared at my face. This close, the symbol on his forehead, one I hadn’t seen last night, was clear to me. It was a swirling design, very similar to something found in Arabia and about the size of a silver dollar. I found myself captivated by the entrancing design, unable to take my eyes off of it at the same time that I wondered what he found so interesting on my own.

He blinked before looking from the blanket in my hands up into my face then back at the blanket again. “Ec el fail,” (1) he insisted.

I cocked my head in confusion, his voice enough to pull me from my embarrassing staring. I had no idea what he just said; none of it was at all recognizable.

He sighed and reached out for the blanket. I held it out to him, misunderstanding the gesture. Vincent shook his head, the golden loops in his ears jangling softly as he pushed the blanket back towards me. “Keep,” he commanded, quite clearly.

I began to babble, breaking out into a sweat with my composure turning to complete shambles under that penetrating stare. God, he was so fucking hot that I could only stammer in his presence. It should be against the law to look like that.

“No, I couldn’t possibly, it’s not mine. You might get cold...”

He did not answer, only turned his back on me, leaving me with growing anger and confusion. Completely ignoring my presence, he reached down into his pack and pulled out the dark fabric I had glimpsed earlier. Holding it in front of him, shaking out the wrinkles, I saw it for what it was, a black hooded cloak.

As I gaped at his perfectly executed attempt at ignoring me, Vincent wrapped it around his shoulders, fingers deftly applying the clasp at his throat though he allowed the hood to remain off his face. The midnight black cloak settled around his shoulders, fitting in such a way that he could still grip the rather large sword that he wore strapped to his back.

I took a step forward, intending to return the blanket once more, when he suddenly scooped up his pack, throwing it over one shoulder and walked swiftly away from me, towards Melath who was now standing, nearly copying Vincent’s prior stance.

“Melath! E uv naern ca l’kaic usoum!”(2) he called out, before he broke into a graceful run. His cloak moved smoothly behind him, fluttering as he headed towards the horizon, clearly going on ahead.

I heard the sound of laughter as I gaped in astonishment after him. I turned to find Ryou behind me, amused because he had witnessed the entire exchange. I flushed in embarrassment, inwardly cursing this place, wherever it was. I had succeeded in nothing but being tortured, humiliated and embarrassed ever since I had set foot on this planet.

“I told you,” Ryou commented, unabashedly snickering at me. “Vincent is not the most personable of our crew. You would have had more luck trying to get Ivory to sing a lullaby.”

I was not amused. “Stop laughing,” I demanded, stomping away from him though I really had no true direction to go.

I hated to be made fun of, it recalling painful memories that I’d sooner forget than ever relate again. I heard Melath call out sharply to Ryou who managed a slightly ashamed look. I sighed, shaking my head at Ryou.

“Doormat,” I muttered under my breath, still furiously clutching onto the blanket that started this whole mess.

I was tempted to throw it to the ground and just stomp on it, work out all of my frustrations. But I was an adult and not a child. I didn’t think throwing a tantrum would do me any favors.

Melath turned towards the horizon, slinging his pack over his shoulder as Ivory stood, belting her axe onto the sheath at her side and shouldering her own rather large sack. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say it looked heavier than Melath’s and Ryou’s combined. Who was she? Superwoman? I couldn’t help but snicker at my own inner joke, even if they wouldn’t be able to appreciate my genius.

Nevertheless, their actions only proved to me that it was time we hit the road, heading towards our next destination, wherever the hell that was. I sighed in resignation. I hated exercise, and here I was walking again. Haven’t these people ever heard of vehicles, or horses, or something that did not require me using my own two feet? Which brought to mind other questions. Where the hell was I? I hadn’t yet decided if I was in hell, or heaven, or maybe some sort of purgatory.

Or perhaps I wasn’t dead at all. Maybe I was just in a coma and dreaming all this. Then again, would it be such a stretch to believe in the magic I always half hoped existed? Maybe I really was on another world, like I had always dreamed and desired. The ultimate adventure. Hmph. If this was all that ‘adventure’ had to offer me, embarrassing myself and nearly being made a slave, I was ready to go back home.

“Miss Anne! We are leaving!” Ryou admonished, disturbing my thoughts.

I looked up startled; finding that I was standing alone, clutching Vincent’s gifted blanket in my hands. I must have looked like a complete moron, staring off vapidly into space like a daydreaming fool. The three of them, Melath, Ivory, and Ryou were standing a good distance away waiting impatiently, a disapproving frown on the silver-haired elf’s face.

I flushed again, wondering if I was ever going to spend a day where my face wasn’t bright red with embarrassment. “Right!” I answered him, nodding my head as I ran to catch up to them.

Melath shook his head at my approach, an interesting but mysterious emotion playing across his beautiful features that I could not even begin to interpret. I was no mind reader. He mumbled something under his breath that I did not catch, not that I would have understood it if I had. With a flick of his wrist, we began the hurried march, following the same path that Vincent had taken, towards where the sun would rest at evening.

I kept my thoughts to myself, noticing that the group did not really talk to each other as they walked. I contented myself with examining my surroundings and my new companions as well. Behind me, I knew, was a range of mountains. The Ectows had dragged me across them last night. These mountains were rather large and formed from an odd mix of cerulean and pumpkin-orange rocks in alternating thick bands of sediment.

I couldn’t help but admire their beauty, which was completely unlike anything I had ever seen either back home or on Earth period. And when the sun shone on them just right, they sparkled as if there was some type of metallic material within the lithic formation.

At the base of the mountains was a thin forest with scraggly trees looking vaguely like pine trees that had lost their needles, and a ruthlessly rocky ground. If it hadn’t been for Vincent’s blanket, I would have spent the night cuddled with a boulder, a real life version of the Flintstones. Other than those, the vegetation was mostly non-existent. All small shrubs, bushes, and low-lying flowers were either trampled or couldn’t break free and survive in the dry, rocky ground.

To my right and left were no distinguishing landmarks. The ground had leveled out again here into grassy dry plains. It was very monotonous. Unlike the grass from before, these plains were a garnet color, as if someone had dyed all the grass with red food coloring. Strange and very discomfiting.

The maroon grass was waist length for me and it almost seemed to have a consciousness as it reached for us as we walked, brushing against our bodies and clothing, sometimes clinging. It was a very disorientating feeling and I tried my best to ignore the touchy-feely plants, even going so far as to hover awfully close to Ryou.

I had the distinct vision in my mind of tiny pairs of hands, clinging to me as if trying to escape some cruel fate and it gave me the chills. Ryou seemed amused by my reluctance to touch the grass, but didn’t push me away. In fact, he seemed to enjoy our closeness, piggish eyes sparkling brightly.

Ahead of us, I could see a few pillars of smoke, the evidence of a town. I felt like I had been thrown into the past. Everything seemed so primitive. While it was near impossible for me to see the village, my eyes did catch the sparkle of water in the distance. A river or something similar. I thought lovingly of stripping down naked and wading in the water.

Considering my location, I didn’t think that this village would have running water. It was a luxury I was going to have to do without, unfortunately. But I knew that I needed a bath. After being in the company of the Ectows for a week, I was certain that I reeked of all manner of things, though no one had been mean enough to point that out yet. They were probably just glad I was downwind of them. Hell, I would be, too.

I did not expect our journey to be long. In fact, if I had not been incapacitated I was sure that the companions would have stayed the night in the inn somewhat making me feel guilty. They had shunned comfort in favor of treating me. Then again, I had entertained them with my clumsiness and pure ineptitude. Tit for tat, after all.

Huffing and puffing two hours later, I had to admit to myself that I had lied. The town was not that close, it just seemed that way. The sun had risen, casting its heavy, hot light on us and I was literally, sweating like a pig. The sweat poured from my brow and I was gasping for breath.

Dammit all to hell, it was not fair! And the others, they did not even look like they were discomfited. I was panting something awful and it felt like all my muscles were on fire. My feet were aching, the wrapped blisters popping and opening again. I gradually began to hold back, my pace lagging behind the others.

I vaguely heard them discussing something in their own language, completely ignoring my presence. I wasn’t bothered by this a bit. I would rather they ignore me than witness the pitiful sight of me on this forced march. I wiped a hand across my forehead, glaring up at the sun, when I noticed that Vincent had miraculously reappeared from his mysterious disappearance.

Or actually, we more or less caught up to him. He was lying along a huge, moss-covered boulder, amid a pile of even larger angular rocks and boulders. He was stretched out on his back, reminding me of an idle cat lazing about. Vincent even appeared to be asleep, his arms folded out behind his head and one leg bent at the knee.

“Uhaic cevo,”(3) he muttered as he cracked open one eye, giving us all a glare. He must have had superb hearing to be able to sense our coming because somehow the other three managed to walk without making a sound, compared to my crashing and loud cursing.

Melath drew up short, fixing the dark-haired male with a firm glare that made even me shiver in slight fear. “L’sic eg, Vincent!” he snapped. “Rat, t’suc mem fai yerm?”(4)

I watched in fascination, though I had no idea what they were saying. Ryou hung back, coming to stand next to me. I tried to look somewhat dignified even with sweat pouring off my skin, the effort somewhat lost on Ryou.

“What are they saying?” I asked him, shocked at the hoarse sound to my voice and how I literally was gasping. I leaned forward, placing my hands on my knees to rest my aching back.

Ryou shrugged. “Nothing really. Just that the area is clear of bandits. Not that we really have anything to fear.” He idly tapped that overly large staff on the ground as he spoke, almost proving that they were ready for any challenge.

Vincent regarded Melath with slitted golden eyes before lazily stretching on the boulder. He sat up, brushing some dark hairs out of his face before nimbly leaping off the boulder, exchanging an odd look with Melath. Two pairs of willful eyes locked in silent communication, and for a moment there, I thought one was going to attack the other. Seconds ticked by before Vincent finally lowered his gaze and head, a definite sign of submission that intrigued me thoroughly.

Just what kind of relationship did these two have?

Melath didn’t seem too pleased by his victory, however. He merely watched as Vincent picked up his pack from where it lay against the boulder and shouldered it. The dark-haired male then passed by the elf, heading towards Donnil on the far horizon. Melath frowned, staring at the ground before following after him, steps hurried to draw even with Vincent.

A conversation began, in low tones so that I couldn’t even begin to pick out the syllables. I groaned as Ivory walked at a more sedate pace behind them, whistling jauntily. It was time to start walking again and I had not even caught my breath again. My feet ached, my head burned and the heat was oppressive, stealing any comfort I might have gained from the minor rest.

Beside me, Ryou stirred and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, though my hair shielded him from view. “Are you well, Miss Anne,” he questioned, clearly concerned.

I waved him off with one hand, slowly straightening. “Fine,” I answered succinctly, trying to conserve both energy and breath.

I was beginning to feel dizzy, the grasses blurring in front of my eyes as a strange tingle raced along the back of my neck. Despite the heat, my toes suddenly started to prickle with icy coldness.

“Ryou, kavo ar!” Melath demanded, pausing in his march to snap at the monk beside me.

He ignored his leader; however, still determined to aid me in my troubles, even though he had no clue what they were. Catching the impatient look on Melath’s face, those lips beginning to form into a thin line of irritation, I waved him onwards.

“I will catch up in a moment,” I assured him, the words coming out on the edge of a gasp.

My chest felt heavy, as if someone had sat down on it, limiting my breathing. My hand fluttered to my chest, rubbing along my collarbone in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. It was strange and slightly frightening. I had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before.

“Are you certain?” he pressed, laying a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, managing a smile. “Yes. Go before Melath gets even angrier,” I insisted, annoyed by his motherly behavior.

He watched me for a moment more before nodding and moving on, leaving me alone which I was grateful for. Now I could gasp for breath in peace, trying to ignore the double vision that had accosted me.

It was then that I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. It felt like someone was choking me, his or her hands wrapped tightly around my neck and pressing in on my windpipe. I could even feel these invisible hands, all ten fingers pressed into my skin, thumbs squeezing the life out of me. My body began to wobble, strength flowing quickly out of my muscles.

I sank to my knees, struggling to gather a breath to fill my gasping lungs. I looked ahead of me, to the retreating backs of my newly found companions. This wasn’t normal! Not at all!

My vision blurred, going gray around the edges. My hands went reflexively to my chest, as if trying to beat some life into it and my heartbeat thudded loudly in my ears, vaguely sounding like the toll of a death bell.

What the hell was going on?

I screamed soundlessly, unable to voice my question aloud. The words reverberated inside my mind, where they were essentially useless. I wanted to call for help, but the words caught in my throat with no breath to support them. I clawed at my throat, at the invisible fingers.

It felt like I was dying from the inside out; some nameless horror suffocating me to death. Confusion and fear gripped my heart; nothing made sense any more. My life, my ever-shortening life, nothing was real anymore. Who was I? Where was I? Why was I?

The world went dark as my body slumped forward, my eyes last landing on a swinging braid of ebony hair before I slipped into nothingness.

I opened my eyes and found a bright light; more brilliant than any I had ever seen. It shone through the darkness like a guiding beacon. It was a sparkling color, like a million rainbows all-coalescing to form one pure beam of hope. I could not understand the source of it. Maybe it was that white light that people always talked about, but then, no one ever said how truly beautiful it was.

Did that mean I was dead? Was I supposed to head towards the light?

I found I was alone, lying somewhere hard and unyielding, the floor beneath me so very cold. I was still dressed the same as before, even my bandages were still there. I laid on my stomach, my right hand curled up beneath me, my cheek flush against the cold floor. It was a really uncomfortable position.

I groaned as I struggled to my feet, feeling as if someone had beaten my chest in with a heavy hammer. I swayed as I stood alone in an empty cavern, only darkness surrounding me despite the brilliant rainbow light shining above me. The ground was made of rock, completely smooth and swept clean of rocks and debris.

Then suddenly, there was a voice in the stillness, low in timbre, echoing, reminding me of something I could not quite place. “What are you doing here again? I have not called for you!” the voice demanded.

“I… I...” I could do nothing but stutter.

I had no idea what was going on and I certainly did not remember having been in this place before. This kind of environment I would certainly have remembered. Was this only a dream then and not a trip to the afterlife?

Then what was the world before? What were Ryou and Vincent? Melath and Ivory? My suffering at the hands of the Ectows? Was all that merely a projection? Some kind of vague hallucination? Funny, I didn’t recall taking any drugs.

“Answer me child!” the voice insisted, becoming louder in its anger and ultimately disturbing my inner thoughts.

“I am no child!” I yelled indignantly before I instantly felt foolish. After all, I was speaking to something that was not there and not only that, arguing with it.

The voice then emitted a laugh, cold and echoing, that reverberated around the entire chamber. It jarred me for some reason, causing my heart to thud loudly in my chest. “Compared to me you are even younger than an infant. You are not supposed to be here.”

“Well, it’s not as if I asked to come here, wherever the hell here is!” I retorted angrily. “Besides that fact, I am a bit tired of not knowing where I am. What the hell is going on?” If I was having delusions, might as well make the most of them and milk as much information out of this bodiless voice as I could.

There was a snort of derision. “You will understand with time. For now, suffice to say, that you are going back. It is not your time, not even yet.” The voice responded. Then I heard the sound of footsteps, slow and methodical, coming in my direction.

I still could not see in the dim light of the empty space but peered all around me just the same. I tried to understand what was going on, but my brain, my mind was having a massive overload. Dream? Reality? Vision? Nightmare? I didn’t know what to think anymore, what to believe. From the moment that I had been struck by the garbage truck, little made sense. I began to wonder. What if the life I led before had been false? What if it were Earth that was non-existent?

“Going back where?” I questioned nervously, understanding all too well how very alone I was in this dark, cold place. I had no weapons, no judo skills, and I was surrounded by darkness, the perfect example of a nightmare.

“You do not belong there, but own it instead. But never fear with your actions, the world will be healed by your powers hear said,” came the low mocking voice from right behind me, whispering in my ear, warm breath on my neck. The sudden rush of feeling sent shivers down my spine, and tingles in other places that should not have tingled!

I whirled around in shock, hand flying up to my mouth, not even knowing how quickly this mysterious being had appeared behind me. I gaze right into the face of the unknown, the face of destiny, and screamed.

Those eyes! Oh god, they saw right through me!

I bolted awake, a terrified scream emerging from my lips as the realization poured over me that it had all been some terrible nightmare. Three bodies instantly crowded around me, and I moved backwards in shock. My heart pounded in my chest, an insistent dull thud that made my palms sweat. I raised slowly trembling eyes to the bodies crowded around me, half afraid of what I might see.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I recognized Ryou, Melath and Ivory. I would not say it was worry in their faces, but somehow a trace of fear was evident. Fear? Fear of what, for what? My life, their life, I could not say. It’s not as if I was that dangerous as a person. I felt calmed knowing for a moment that I had some semblance of where I was. You would think that if I were in a dream I would have woken in my real body by now, or was this reality? I no longer knew what to think.

“Miss Anne?” Ryou questioned carefully, almost as if he were afraid, very odd.

“Where am I?” I demanded to know, very rudely too for that matter and in a voice hoarse from my scream.

I shifted in my seat, realizing that I lay on a bed in a small room. A real bed, with sheets and blankets. The room itself was warm, the heat coming from a small fireplace.

“You are at the Autumn Leaves, an inn at Donnil,” answered Ryou smoothly as the three backed off, giving me some space.

I wanted that, but more so I wanted answers. No more beating around the bush. I was tired of being tugged around like purse strings.

“No, that’s not what I asked!” I said shaking my head fiercely, my gaze shifting just past Melath’s shoulder where I saw Vincent standing near the fire, staring into the orange-red flames. I pushed back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, intending to get up.

“What is this place called? What is this world?” I snapped at Ryou. My head began to pound, the wounds on my wrists and neck aching.

An uncertain gaze darted to Melath before he responded, voice slightly shaky. “Donnil is part of the kingdom of Neuma. That and four other kingdoms comprise the land of Ruscit in the world of Tears,” Ryou answered, confusion etched into his features. He raked a nervous hand through his hair.

I scrubbed a fierce hand over my face, fingers rubbing at my eyes as I forced myself to my feet. “I don’t understand!” I snapped as almost immediately, a wave of dizziness struck me and my hand went to my head. I swayed uncertainly but Ryou was quickly at my side, offering up an arm.

“You need to lie down Miss Anne, you are not well,” he expressed softly; the fabric of his robes a warm assurance that I quickly denied.

I violently jerked away from him, pushing Ryou away with one arm as I screamed. “No!” He tripped backwards on his robes, landing ungracefully on his ass. “I will not lie down until someone tells me what the hell is going on!”

My hands clenched into fists as I stared angrily at the people around me. I wanted to hit something and scream as loud as I could, do anything to get the results that I wanted.

Ryou’s face pinched with confusion as he gingerly rose to his feet, aided by Ivory. I did not miss her look of anger either. “What are you talking about?”

“This isn’t funny any more! I was playing along with it, but I can't take it anymore! I want to go home!” I screamed, stomping my feet and tearing angrily at the bandages.

My behavior was quickly getting out of control but my own sanity was spiraling into darkness. I couldn’t understand; I didn’t understand. What was real? What wasn’t? Why was no one answering my questions?

Melath’s eyes cut towards Ryou, speaking quickly in their own tongue and irrationally, I assumed they were talking about me which only served to enrage me further, tipping me off the scale of reason.

“Stop it! Quit talking about me!”

I darted towards them, though I do not know what I had in mind. Maybe I thought I would hit someone, or shake some truth out of them, I am not really sure. It was then that I felt a hand on my left shoulder, restraining me with its innate strength. I didn’t know who or what it was, only knowing that someone was touching me and I was beyond the point of rationality. My body shook with rage, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. There was a rushing sound in my ears but I ignored it all, pushing down everything and concentrating only on my anger. That I knew, was real.

Without turning to look, without any hesitation at all, I whirled around and swung with my right fist, intending to strike whomever had touched me. Vincent’s eyes widened but he moved quickly, faster than a normal human should, and ducked my wild swing. I growled, feeling an odd power rush through me. He had touched me; he had intended to restrain me. That would not do!

I swung again, not relying on skill, only wanting to damage, to hurt. Where these emotions came from, I didn't know. I had been a passive person all my life, never one to strike anything in anger. What had happened to me? Fear began to lace my anger; turning it against me and into something I could no longer rely on. But by then it was too late, I was entrapped by my own oscillating emotions.

Vincent dodged my unskilled attacks with the dexterity of one used to many battles. But now, I wanted to taste blood. I saw it, my vision bathed in crimson. There was an urging, an inkling of something mysterious and dark rising up within me, bubbling up from my core, crying for release. My back was turned to the others, their presence forgotten as my mind centered on this one foe, this foe that would dare touch me while my back was turned. I snarled viciously, my prey eluding my every move.

“Marc l’curm c’sowo, fai emeac! Ma lavoc’sern!”(6) yelled Vincent as he blocked and defended himself from my attacks. He should have been able to easily defeat me but there was something in the way that I moved, I was getting skilled, like I was learning from his moves.

It was almost as if I were beginning to see everything from a detached position outside my body. It wasn’t me swinging at him, it wasn’t me wanting to rip out his throat and crush his skull beneath my foot. I could feel my body moving, feel the rush of the air against every thrown fist and the firmness of the wood floor beneath me, but it was viewed through a grey film of uncertainty.

I made a feint as if to attack from the right, he dodged to the left and that was where I got him, right across the jaw, with my fist. He grunted, biting his lip in the process, but he did not go down like I thought he would. Vincent merely wiped the small trail of blood from his chin and grabbed my arm, intending to flip me. But I ground my feet, using his force against him, throwing him to the floor instead. He hit the wood with a thud, shaking everything in the room.

I looked down at him, some indescribable emotion flitting through me at the sight of him, momentarily pausing at the sight of the mark on his forehead, the swirling lines almost mesmerizing me. Then the rage pulsed again and the feeling was gone, flitting away as I lifted my foot, intending to kick him, crush him, do something to make him pay.

Suddenly, a heavy force hit me from behind. Thick arms wrapped around my stomach, trapping my arms around my side. Down to the floor I went, a heavy body crashing on top of my own. Someone had tackled me, and judging by the girth, it had been Ryou.

I hit hard, my head bouncing against the wood. The world spun as I struggled to break free, twisting and pulling at the arms wrapped tightly around me. I growled in words that made no sense.

I bucked up with my hips and tried to roll over, he was crushing me and I could barely breathe. I growled loudly, a strange strength flooding my body and Ryou flew backwards, hitting the far wall with a dull thud. Shaking my head like a hungry animal, I got to my hands and knees, bringing my right foot to the floor, attempting to stand.

Fuck, my head was spinning faster. Like the world beneath me was turning on a new axis. I felt nauseous deep down inside and my eyes fell to my hands. They seemed foreign to me and glowing, my hands were glowing with an unnatural dark light. I rolled back on my heels, the fight temporarily forgotten as a temporary sanity returned and I held my hands in front of my face, the dark light pulsating and suffocating my senses.

What the hell was going on?

Two pairs of hands ruthlessly grabbed my arms from behind, one on each. I was yanked backwards until my back collided with the ground. I struggled, kicking my feet in all directions, giving great pulls on the arms that held me, teeth bared in feral anger. I saw through blurred vision that Ivory had a hold of my right arm and Melath had a hold of my left. Their faces were red with exertion, as if their strengths combined were still nothing like my own. Someone grabbed a hold of my legs, pushing them to the floor even as a weight settled on my chest.

I blinked and tried to see through crimson flooded vision. Ryou was trying to hold down my legs. It was Vincent straddling down my chest, regarding me with a strange expression on his face. His lips moved as he spoke but I ignored that, bucking my body as I growled and spat obscenities at him.

My body quivered as a low pulsating throbbed beneath my skin, as if something wanted to come out, something evil that wanted blood, that wanted death. It hurt, it tore at my skin and I screamed with the pain. My back arched off the floor and I curled my hands into fists, banging them uselessly against the wood.

I barely heard Vincent’s voice through the din of red fury and blinding pain. My eyes fluttered and then there was a tightening in my mouth; like it was splitting inside and I got the smallest taste of my own blood before it was gone. Just that slight taste made me crave it even more, the blood lust within me rising, granting me strength, causing me to struggle even harder.

Vincent tore off his cloak and flung it to the side, revealing the tattoos on his arms. They seemed to pulsate and each simple line was glowing faintly, with an indigo light. I felt the heat coming off of him and the light near my body, like it was some type of purification. It hurt! Lord of mercy, the pain was unbearable. I screamed again, my throat sore and rough from the screaming already as I banged the back of my head against the floor.

I didn’t even feel the pain from that blow.

With one hand Vincent traced strange symbols in the air as he started chanting in a language that I did not recognize. It was not the common that the others had been speaking; it was something else entirely. With the other hand, he drew a small dagger from its sheath on his leg, hidden in his boot. The blade was thin but sharp looking, contained within a simple wooden hilt.

I watched with the same sort of detachment from before as I body continued to struggle, no longer under my control. Vincent continued his chanting, the symbols on his arms still glowing that odd color. He took the dagger and quickly put a small slit in his wrist. The metallic scent wafted my direction and my head jerked towards him, something within me desiring it, craving it.

He held his bleeding wrist to my lips, as if urging me to drink. I smelled the blood before me, the sharp coppery smell fascinating me, intriguing me. He pushed his wrist towards my mouth and I opened my lips obligingly. I wrapped them about his flesh, digging my teeth into his skin as the blood splashed into my mouth. I moaned in sheer ecstasy, my throat working vigorously to swallow the delicious warm fluid. My body went limp, the struggling ceasing now that I got what I desired and my eyes closed as I continued to suck, curling my tongue over his warm flesh and lapping up every droplet of blood.

He tasted like mystery and fire; burning brightly and with fervor I could not match. I moaned again as a thin thread of arousal began to weave through my body with each pull of Vincent’s blood. It curled in my belly as my skin tingled, every nerve suddenly super sensitive.

It was then that I felt the first slash of the dagger.

My eyes shot open. Vincent had started carving something into my right arm with his dagger. My eyes widened in surprise, though not of pain. The slashing didn’t hurt, instead feeling just as dangerously erotic as the blood-letting. That frightened me and I sought to release his wrist but he kept pushing it into my mouth, forcing me to consume his blood. It poured over my lips and into my mouth until I could smell nothing, taste nothing but the copper fluid. He moved to my right arm, carving in the same symbols he had put into my left.

My world dimmed, the rational part of my brain shutting down under the strain of the chaos. I could no longer feel my legs or the lower portion of my body. I was no longer aware of Ryou, Melath, and Ivory. My whole world became the taste of blood, the feel of the knife, and the weight of Vincent sitting on my chest. My skin rippled and pulsed, warmth effusing my entire body.

There was a voice, a dim echo of something dark and deep that began to fill my subconscious, laughing and mocking. It terrified me.

He finished the last stroke in the same motion that he pulled his wrist viciously from my mouth, splashing my face with his blood. I growled, my tongue licking my lips, trying to get every last morsel of his blood. Golden eyes looked at me with something akin to pity and sorrow. He held his bleeding wrist closer to his body.

I started to struggle again, no longer swayed by the taste of his blood. I could feel my own injuries beginning to hemorrhage once more. I know blood must have been everywhere, staining the floor around us. I wondered what the owner of the inn would think when he came to clean the room.

“Ec’l rac tawdern!”(7)

Vincent nodded, as if he knew there was one last thing to be done. He used the dagger to slice open the top of my thin shirt, baring my collarbone. He placed on hand on my forehead before he began to carve into the skin of my chest, more symbols, more pain, more blood.

That creature within me, it screamed as if someone had placed a fire beneath it. The claws I felt on my skin and in my mind scraped harder and I screamed along with it. The dual pain was more than I could bear.

Why was this happening to me! What had I done wrong!

Vincent’s entire body began to glow, an odd mix of indigo and black, coming off him in waves. My world dimmed, the eyes faded, I knew nothing but the look in his eyes, the monster behind the golden orbs. I snarled and spat before everything suddenly went dark.

Something tore through my skin, fighting its way free.

****

(1) "It is yours."
(2) "Melath, I am going to scout ahead!"
(3) "Shut up, Vincent!"
(4) "What did you find?"
(5) "Ryou, come on!"
(6) “Don’t stand there, you idiots! Do something!”
(7) "It's not working!"

a/n: Well? Good? Bad? Expected? I'd love to hear from my readers. Thanks!