Walking Delusions

a/n: Self-beta. All fuck-ups are mine alone. Thanks to SightSoBlind for reviewing. I updated just for you! I am incredibly honored by your comment; it inspired to finish my editing quicker. Feel free to keep guessing! That was half my purpose in writing this story. I wanted to challenge people to make theories. I hope you like this chapter, too! Thanks!

Chapter Four: Wards of Blood

I did not understand why I hungered, or what I hungered for.
I only knew that my body craved him,
He of the morning eyes.
I knew that he did not fear me as much as I thought.
I knew that his power surpassed my own strength.
I desired it, lusted after it, wanted to take it.
But he had already claimed me.
I am still lost; we are the same,
Both of us, the same in our own rights.
I need him to keep me sane,
Before I lose myself in the madness,
In the call of the blood and the beast within.

I awoke to the bright light of the rising sun shining through the window and onto my face. It was warm and tender with its embrace and I welcomed it gladly. My eyes slid open before I immediately closed them again with a groan. The damn sun was awful bright. My body twitched on the bed and I reluctantly realized that I should probably get up.

I tried to sit up, but found that I could not. My body was lashed to the bed. My arms hurt and my chest ached and there was a funny taste in my mouth. I licked my lips, my mouth dry, and tasted blood, dry and kind of like sucking on a penny for few hours. And for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what had happened.

At least, not until the memory smashed me in the face with the force of a sledgehammer, bringing me back to a terrible reality.

I leapt at Vincent, trying to slash him, destroy him, something within me calling for blood, for terror, for destruction…

Oh god, what did I do? I struggled to look around me, taking in my surroundings with bleary sight. I was in a room, lying in a bed, and a rather small one at that, barely enough room on it for my average frame. The bed sat directly underneath a window. To my left, Melath and Ivory were curled up on the floor in their bedrolls, fast asleep. Ryou sat in a chair in front of the door, as if guarding it even in his sleep. He was snoring softly, deep bubbling snores that seemed to bounce around in his chest. Vincent sat in a chair at the side of the bed, asleep as well.

Why was there only one bed in the room? And why the hell I was I lashed to it?

…I tasted blood, warm and coppery as I bit down into the soft flesh Vincent’s wrist. A voice, a presence, deep and menacing within cried for it, desired the taste of his life’s fluid. It sustained me, calmed me, gave me new life, gave me strength…

I groaned again as more memories flashed in my mind. It all became sickeningly clear, the night replaying in my mind like something from a terrible Fantasy/Horror movie. Had that really been me, saying and doing all those weird things? At least that explained the state of my wrists, bound to the bed posts with leather thongs. Apparently they thought I would attack them again. Not that I could blame them; I was not exactly myself last night.

My eyes traveled over the room again. It would be best if I left them alone. I had no idea what they journeyed for, but I seriously doubted they needed me to hamper their quest. A small quiver of fear began to rise up inside of me when I realized the truth of my existence. I did not understand anything about my situation, not the events of last night and certainly not my dreams. But nothing was so terrifying as the realization that I no longer knew who or what I was. And I was alone in a foreign place with a monster trapped inside me. A monster who desired nothing more than blood and destruction.

I could not help it when the tears began to fall. At first, I let them come silently, leaving silver trails down my cheeks. I closed my eyes with the sorrow, letting them leak their pain. But instead of slowly draining away into a pile of misery, the release of those tears seemed to give my body a signal, like it was okay to just give in to the rest. My silent tears became wracking sobs and my chest ached from trying to draw in a breath.

It wasn’t fair. What had I ever done to deserve whatever the hell was going on?

More tears poured from my eyes, a silent surrender to my fractured reality and emotions. I know I must have looked so pathetic. But not as stupid and weak as I felt when someone placed their hand on my face and idly pressed a finger to the tear slowly streaking down my cheek.

My eyes shot open and through tear-streaked vision, I saw Vincent lording over me with something akin to worry and confusion etched into his face. He regarded his slightly damp finger with his head cocked to the side, as if he had never seen a tear before. I looked again just to be sure. Feh! That cold mask was quickly replaced with one of disgust and pity. I wondered if that brief flash of concern had been imagined.

“Let me cry in peace!” I muttered even though I knew he could not understand me.

I turned my head away from him, not wanting to see that strange look in his golden eyes again. I heard the creak of a chair. He must have gotten up; I really did not care to look and check.

Thank the gods! The last thing I wanted was his pity. I tried to look indignant, but it was lost considering I was tied down to a bed, my face rapidly becoming enflamed and swollen from my tears. Yeah, sure, I would be intimidated. Can we sense the sarcasm here?

I felt cold but gentle fingers on my wrists and realized that my bindings were being removed. I didn’t want to look because I didn’t want to thank whoever the hell it was. About damn time I swear! But my anger did not last long before it was quickly replaced by worry. Ah, hell! What if I attacked them again? What if I hurt someone I did not intend? These dark and dire thoughts brought back my tears and I shuddered in private turmoil. My emotions were changing so fast that it was difficult to keep a sane mind wrapped around them.

My hands were released and I pulled them quickly towards me, turning on my side to face the wall, curling up into a protective ball. I always did this, when I was afraid or sad. For some reason it comforted me. I buried my face in the pillow and pulled as into myself as I was able, my back to the friends. I allowed myself to let go and released the fear I felt into the soft cotton of the downy pillow I had been granted. There was a small part of me that wished to be comforted, but then, this part was quickly beaten down by the pessimistic side of me that just wanted everyone to go away and leave me the fuck alone.

It was then that I felt another hand on my shoulder, this one gentler. I could feel the kindness in that touch and it scared me. Why did that simple kind gesture, so similar to that of Vincent’s, scare me, when his only enraged me? Either way, I still did not turn over. I jerked away from the kind hand and pulled further into myself, if it was at all possible. The hand removed itself and I was momentarily grateful. My whole world became what I saw behind my eyelids. And then I felt the hiccups beginning to start. Gods! That always happened, every time I cried for long periods.

“Miss Anne?” I wasn’t surprised to find that the gentle touch was Ryou. Only he seemed to care enough about my general welfare.

The others seemed to think of me as unwelcome baggage which, I probably was. Not that I could do much for them except steal their blankets and eat their food.

I ignored Ryou. Just go away, I thought irritably before another hiccup overcame me.

There I was, in some unknown world, having just been released from my bindings because some freakish monster within me tried to kill my companions. I was a huddled mass of shivering tears, quite a pathetic sight, I imagine. Not to mention, if I remembered correctly, my arms were all cut up, possibly still lightly bleeding. And then I started hiccuping! Of all the crazy asinine things my body had done to me, that was one of the worst. I was doing this comical crying, hiccuping, thing and fuck was I embarrassed, which only made me want to cry more and hide away from the entire world.

People always want to find a rock to go and hide under. Well, I wanted a fucking boulder, eighty feet high, sitting on top of a hole in the ground, dug eighty feet deep. I wanted to be so far buried that not even my coroner could find me. But most of all, I wanted to go home.

What a shock it came to me when I began to laugh. And not small slow laughter but, full on, bust-a-gut, giggling mess. I clutched my sides and just laughed. Why? Something in my mind must have snapped. The irony of the situation. The pathetic nature of my responses. My own inability to control my actions.

A sudden sharp pain struck my belly and I unconsciously rolled over in response, seeking relief. My eyes fell open, only to land on the faces of the friends whose expressions resembled that of shocked horror. No surprise there. This insane chick they rescued tried to kill them then wakes up crying and laughing? Yeah, I would have believed myself to be nuts, too.

“I’m sorry!” I gasped out, mostly to Ryou since the others could not understand me. Another laugh eked from my lips. “I think I’ve lost my mind!” I giggled again, the shrill, maniac sound of it hurtful to even my own ears.

Brown eyes looked down on me thoughtfully. “Miss Anne, this may come as a surprise, but I think that you are in shock,” Ryou responded mildly, recovering from his horrified expression. A slightly bemused smile took over his face as he brushed strands of hair from my face with a hand, a somewhat tender gesture, almost like that of a lover or mother. Odd.

I took a deep breath, trying to quell my rapidly shifting emotions and attempting to get a grasp on some type of reality. “Oh good, and here I thought they were going to have to haul me off to Arkham.”

He looked at me in puzzlement. I nearly slapped myself in stupidity and surprise. Of course they wouldn’t know anything of the heroic and ultimately, mysterious, adventures of the dark knight of Gotham. Such a shame, really.

“Never mind,” I murmured on the wave of one last giggle, waving my hands in dismissal.

I took several deep and calming breaths, forcing my body to a sitting position as I scooted backwards to lean against the headboard. My eyes stung, my cheeks hurt, and now I was beginning to realize that my chest and my arms ached as well.

My eyes flickered towards my skin, narrowing slightly at the bandages as I vaguely registered the pounding in my head from the ridiculous crying.

Ryou looked at me, licking his lips nervously. For some reason, that motion drew my attention like a raccoon to something shiny. “Are you yourself now then?”

That stopped my subtle internal pondering of my wounds and the events of the night before. Such a simple question. Was I myself? How should I know? Who was I? I didn't even know if what happened to me last night was me. Did I have something else inside of me? Was I even alive?

“You know,” I began thoughtfully, eyes staring unseeing at the plain comforter beneath me. “I am not entirely sure how to answer that.”

I rolled the question around in my head, the words echoing, bouncing from one end of my skull to the other. “That has never happened to me before,” I added, raising my gaze to the rest of the room where I locked eyes on four very different expressions. Suspicion, irritation, curiosity and that last, looked vaguely like interest. Strange.

“How odd,” murmured Ryou in response. He shifted in his seat, a big smile taking over his face as he attempted both a cheery voice and expression. “Well, before we can discuss anything we need to get you that translator.”

That was it? No discussion of the events the night previous? No demands for explanations? Just... let’s go help out the weird stranger girl some more? I was baffled, perplexed, ultimately confuzzled. I frowned, wondering why they were plainly dismissing everything. Should I pretend as if nothing happened as well?

“That’s it?” I asked, raising a brow.

He hesitated, dark eyes shooting to Melath who subtly nodded as if understanding my question. Ryou returned to me. “Yes. Our first priority is being able to understand you. Then we can discuss... last night.” He said the last as if afraid of my reaction, slightly recoiling when I swung my legs over the bed with the intention of rising.

My body instantly protested the movement. It stretched the cuts on my arm, and I realized, the slashes on my chest that I had not realized were there until just then. I hissed with the pain, noting that the blood was beginning to pierce the white cotton of my bandages, the bright marks were glaringly obvious. There was a definite pattern to them, looking very similar to some kind of archaic rune.

My right hand unconsciously fluttered to my chest, my fingers running over the aching cuts in my breastbone. These had not been covered, the cuts not deep enough to warrant the use of extra bandages. My fingers came away with minimal blood on them. I stared at them, my eyes threatening to fill up with tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Ryou softly, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. His thumb rubbed a soothing circle against the side of my arm. “According to Vincent, it was necessary.”

Instantly, my gaze shot to the dark-haired, man standing near the door. He leaned on it unconcerned, watching the exchange between Ryou and myself as if he could understand what we were saying. I wouldn’t put it past the cold bastard.

“Necessary, huh?” I repeated, eyes narrowing.

I don’t know why, but knowing that it was Vincent who had saved me, having it said aloud, made me angry. Or to be more precise, it made something within me furious. The young unmarried woman part of me was squealing with joy. Knight in shining armor he was not, but my hormones did not know any better. Stupid estrogen.

Vincent caught the look in my eyes, cocking his head to the side in confusion, before he turned and opened the door, leaving quickly and silently. Melath watched him go with a chilly look in his blue eyes and even I shivered. Vincent was beyond my comprehension, as was the obvious tension between them.

“Yes,” the monk chimed in, blissfully obvious to the rising pressure in the room. He patted my shoulder, his hand lingering perhaps a bit too long. “Now, if you would allow me to bandage the… uh… wounds, we can leave for the temple,” he continued brightly, removing his hand to rummage around in the pack sitting at his foot. “It is not far from here. In fact, it is thanks to them that we contracted this room.”

I fell silent as he reached for some white bandages and a salve in a small glass bottle. I let him tend to the wounds, occasionally biting my lip to withhold a grimace as the cool salve covered the burning slashes. Not to mention the stuff was positively pungent although Ryou assured me that it would speed the healing and prevent infection.

It gave me time to think as he smoothed the salve and wrapped the soft cotton around my wounds. What was really going on? Was what I knew as my past reality, or was that the fantasy? How did I know what was real anymore? There was something living within me, something primal and evil, which strived to get out and spread blood and carnage. It was utterly terrifying and made me want to scream in terror and tear my eyes out.

Then there were these people and this world, both equally enigmatic and frightening. I was alone, completely and utterly. If it hadn’t been for Ryou, I would not have even been able to converse with anyone. I shuddered to think what would have happened if the Ectows had managed to take me to their destination or if Melath and his company had left me to die on my own.

Ryou finished and stood, holding out his hand as he smiled warmly. I took it and he helped pull me off the bed. I winced when it stretched the cuts on my arms but did not say anything. Ryou told Melath and the others where we were going. Melath merely nodded in assent, watching me carefully, his sapphire eyes gleaming. Ivory did not even look up. She was sharpening and polishing her axe again, her gaze distinctly kept downwards. I do not know why, but at the time, her ignoring me sent a shiver down my spine. I pushed it aside and attributed it to nothing.

I followed Ryou as he led me down the plain hallway, riddled with doors, then descended a small set of wobbly wooden stairs that creaked as we treaded on them. I used my miraculous powers of deduction to assume we were either in some type of boarding house or hotel-like business.

The stairs opened up into a rather large common room, quite empty. It was still too early for many patrons to be up and only the owner was visible as he stood behind the front desk, wiping down the furniture and checking the registry. He was a fat, sallow man with hardly any teeth. Needless to say, I averted my eyes, keeping them either on the walls or on his greasy apron, my stomach already rolling with nausea.

Ryou paused, leaving me standing alone as he moved to speak with the innkeeper about some unknown topic. I held back, allowing my eyes to wander freely around the nearly abandoned common room. On second look, from where I had thought the five tables and chairs were empty, I saw that one was not so unoccupied.

The table in the far corner, nearest to the shadows and farthest from both the small fire in the fireplace and the wide window, had one occupant. The features of the person were indistinguishable, but I could tell that they were wrapped up in heavy cloaks. A small glass sat in front of the person, a thickly covered hand tapping the table impatiently next to the half-empty glass. It had an amber colored liquid in it, probably ale, but at that hour, I could not be sure.

The figure seemed to be watching Ryou and myself, though I could not see its eyes, or its features. And so in turn, I looked it over, narrowing my eyes only slightly as I crossed my arms. I am not a warrior, a thief, or a fighter. I know nothing about intimidation or going into battle unafraid, or even being aware of my surroundings. I did not have a feel for the battlefield, and I certainly did not know how to defend myself. I had never had to fight for my life before or even use a weapon.

Even so, I felt something as I stared at that mysterious stranger. Like a low chill had spread through the room and gripped my senses. I shivered with the feeling, not liking the dread that swept through my body.

I felt a hand clap to my back, and looked up in surprise into Ryou’s dark brown eyes. “You ready?”

I nodded, following him out of the inn. I dared one last look towards the shadowed corner before I slipped out the door. A low resounding, almost mocking, laughter followed me as I left. For some unknown reason, I did not dare to turn back around and look. That sound sent a chill through my bones and a stab of terror in my heart. I had no desire to look. I never said that I was a brave individual, too smart to be that foolish.

I caught up to Ryou and walked near to him, the strangeness of my surroundings leaving me a bit overwhelmed. It was like being back in medieval times. But then, there seemed to be a splash of modernization as well. The road we traveled was not paved so we stumbled through dusty dirt, kicking it up as we walked, Ryou’s robes swishing it like a broom on a sidewalk.

The path was crowded by people, of all strange shapes and sizes, and creatures, too. I saw a few Ectows and wrapped my arm around Ryou’s, skirting far away from the ugly cretins, as if just by looking at me they would know that I had caused the death of their own. The sight of them reminded me of the week I spent in their tender care and I was instantly filled with a memory fear.

Ryou did not mock my cowardice; he simply patted my arm to let me know that it was all right. But not even I could miss the tightening of his grip on his battle staff, his knuckles turning white. Nor the set of his brows pulling into that grim sneer that I had grown accustomed to in the short time that I had known him. Needless to say, we hurried past the Ectows.

I recognized a few symbols on the outsides of buildings that we passed; an anvil for a blacksmith, a steaming pot for a potions master, a fork and spoon for some type of eatery. But still, I was far out of my element. The buildings were either made of carefully crafted wood, or well placed stones, stacked no more than one story high.

It was my nose that got the most work out. From the unwashed people that milled about, to the many spices of the herbalist vendor, and the aroma of the eatery, I spent my time between reveling in fresh baked bread and wrinkling my nose from the stench of non-hygienated people. I cursed my finely attuned sense of smell. Perfect for sniffing out from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies, but given the situation, I considered it a nuisance.

I was more than glad when we finally found the temple, a large building made of delicately carved granite with huge alabaster columns guarding the many steps that led to the rather unadorned and meager front door. Two statues stood on either side of the door, in the shape of an animal that I did not recognize. It kind of resembled what would happen if someone smashed an eagle with a walrus, not really terror-inspiring, as much as it was kind of comical.

The statues were made of bronze, or at least I think they were. Either bronze or copper, definitely not gold though. Not enough of a luster. They came to my shoulders, and as such garnered much of my attention. I could not help but stop as we passed, running my hands over their smooth frame, delighting in the feel of the cool metal under my fingertips. I had this weird habit of touching things, much like a child in a toy store.

We stepped out of the blistering hot and dry heat of the morning sun, into the dim and rather cool foyer of the temple. Instantly, we were accosted by a monk who greeted us warmly but suspiciously. He was dressed much like Ryou, albeit cleaner, with a shaved head and a myriad number of earrings dangling from the lobes of his rather large elephant-like ears. His eager brown eyes took in our clothing and our looks as he stuttered, introduced himself.

“Toqkavo xelecawl, ca c’so ‘Babel Temple’. E uv Tucker urm E teq ho valc g’qoalom ey E kur sog fai camuf,” he spoke in a whiny, almost prepubescent voice that instantly grated on my delicate senses. I tried to tune him out as he and Ryou discussed business, amusing myself by admiring the surroundings.

The foyer was merely a reception area. Any visitors were instantly met by a type of greeter to prevent idle wanderings. Made me wonder what exactly they had to hide. It was about the size of an average bedroom, uncarpeted with polished marble floors and walls of granite. A few gilded mirrors graced the walls, seemingly placed at random. Small tables, only large enough to hold elegant vases containing scattered flowers in a variety of colors, were placed beneath the mirrors.

Other than that, and the random monks milling about, the foyer was rather empty. I looked above me at the ceiling to find many small globes here and there, the source of the dim light. I wondered if it was electric, or some type of obscure magic. Anything was possible in this strange place.

“Miss Anne.” Ryou’s voice cut through my thoughts and observations, bringing my attention back towards him.

“Hm?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He seemed nervous, instantly making my hackles rise as he tucked his hands into his robes. “Tucker has assured me that you can purchase the translator here. You are not afraid of… needles are you?” he asked.

“Needles?” I was confused. I wasn’t a big fan of getting poked with needles but I could handle them if need be.

Ryou hesitated before he answered, as if he was afraid of the answer and my response. “Yes. The process is both permanent and painful.”

“Painful?” I paled a bit at that. Permanent and painful? What the hell kind of translation were they running here? And shouldn’t he have mentioned it before?

Tucker cut in at this point. “Yes. It is a tattoo that is blessed by Babel and enables you to understand others. This tiny tattoo must be placed behind the jaw below both ears or it won’t be effective. These places can be rather, uh, tender.”

Did I want to be poked with needles by these primitives in a procedure that I had no clue as to whether or not it worked, or spend my life attached to Ryou, having to rely on him for translations? Or I could take some time, and many classes, to learn the common language of the people here. Assuming of course, that I was stuck in this place, wherever the hell it was, for the rest of my life, however short it was. Then again, not everyone might speak common and I would still be stuck for that matter. At least this way, everyone could understand me and I could communicate.

It came down to how much pain I could hold, which I will tell you now, isn’t much. I cry when I stub my toe. Not a big pain addict. Although I had always wanted a tattoo, I never thought I would have the courage to get one. And so I pondered for several long minutes on this dilemma, until apparently, the two monks tired of waiting.

“I assure you that no one has inadvertently died from this procedure,” said Tucker softly. Why didn’t that make me feel any better?

“But it’s entirely up to you,” Ryou added in kind. I still didn’t feel any more assured.

I winced, face pulling into a grimace that clearly expressed how unhappy I was with their suggestions. “There is no way to… alleviate the pain? Like a sedative or something?” I asked hesitantly, my palms sweaty with the idea of pain.

“I suppose we could always knock you out,” responded Tucker thoughtfully, one hand to his chin.

That idea appealed to me. Yes, anesthesia. Send me to sleep and I would wake up having experienced nothing. Of course, if I had known then what I know now, I am not so sure I would have been so amiable.

I waved a hand at him. “Then by all means. Knock me out and get on with it.” I grinned at the two men. I didn’t mind pain so long as I didn’t have to experience it. I hoped that they had the good drugs.

Tucker shrugged, a strange look on his face. “If you insist.” He and Ryou exchanged suspicious glances that instantly put me on guard.

“Hey, wait a minute,” I protested, eyes on them both as Ryou moved to slip behind me. “What are you doing?” My head swiveled around, catching the guilty look in chocolate brown eyes.

Tucker smirked. “Knocking you out!” he informed me moments before he moved in quickly. My eyes widened in shock and then I knew nothing.

I didn’t know why every time I went to sleep. I dreamed. I walked in worlds that I did not recognize, traveling paths unseen, unheeded, more likely the first to tread there. Getting knocked out by Tucker was no different.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the crimson red orbs of another man hovering over me. I screamed in terror, thinking it a monster as I jerked, scuttling backwards on my hands and feet. My gaze never left the man who hovered over me. At the sound of my scream, he pulled back, standing up straight. For a moment there was a stare down between the two of us; me looking up at him, heaving with terror, he looking down at me, cool and collected.

I spoke first, having realized that this person was not going to immediately kill me. “Who are you?” I demanded as my eyes scanned the area around me.

I was lying on a rocky ground, cold and unforgiving. Sharp jagged stones cut into my fingers and a particularly large one stabbed my left butt cheek. The area was very dimly lit. Of the stranger I saw scarcely anything. He was tall, clothed in all black, and scarlet eyes glowed in the shadows of his face. I do not know why I automatically knew that the stranger was a male. I could not see anything else around me. Just a cloaking darkness, like my other dream.

“I think the better question is, who are you?” he asked, evading my question. His voice was barely above a whisper but it managed to echo around me, as if it had been caught on the wind and repeated over and over.

I scowled. “I know who the hell I am!” I answered him angrily, scrambling to my feet and dusting off my clothes. I glanced to my hands, finding they were bleeding where a few rocks had managed to pierce my skin.

“I think perhaps that you do not,” he said, his voice doing that strange lisping echo again. He turned towards me, angling his body.

I eyed him warily, wishing I had a weapon of some sort. “You are evading my questions.” A strange shiver whispered down my spine, heart thudding lowly in my chest and yet, I didn’t fear.

He laughed, harsh and reverberating. “You are avoiding the issues,” he hissed.

“There are no bloody ‘issues’!” I sneered. “Where the hell am I?” I stomped against the ground in an attempt to look intimidating that failed miserably.

The male cocked his head slightly, before he moved swiftly towards me, feet not even making a sound on the gravelly ground. “Where do you think?”

I took a step backwards away from him, thinking he was going to attack. But no, he stopped, mere inches from me, towering over me with his greater height. I still could see nothing of the man and that frightened me. As for his question, I had no clue.

“Quit answering my questions with some of your own,” I demanded as if I could truly threaten him.

He laughed then, a low mocking laugh that sounded vaguely familiar to me though for the life of me I could not remember why. It frightened me, that laugh, and sent a cold sweat breaking out over my entire body.

“Dear child, you do not have the strength to control me, and probably never will.”

I took another step backwards, my voice slightly stuttering. “What do you mean?”

“You are mine,” he suddenly rasped, hand shooting out from under the cloak to grab my own before I could react. The hand was gloved but it still burned where it touched me. I hissed with the pain as my body was jerked forward as he gave a great yank on my wrist.

“I own you,” he rasped and I stumbled forward into an embrace that felt like anything but.

I was close to him now, my head right beneath his chin. I looked up, eyes wide with terror, still unable to see anything. I felt a hot breath on my face, the scent of sulfur and death nearly making me faint.

I coughed; the smell sickened me. “I belong to no one,” I denied, a bit uncertain.

I felt his other arm snake around my waist as he pulled me closer to him, every touch burned, like someone had doused me in gasoline and lit a match. My eyes began to tear with the pain and I coughed uncontrollably.

“You are wrong,” he hissed. “How can you say that when you do not know who you are, runihura din?” It was a language I did not know yet the last words managed to somehow frighten me.

There was something in the way that he spoke that made me want to struggle. I pulled violently against his grip trying to get away. I only succeeded in making him laugh. “Let me go!” I ordered.

“I thought I already told you, child. You have no power over me.” He laughed, releasing his grasp on my wrist only to take a hold of my chin. I screamed as a burning sensation raced from my chin through my body, and I allowed the tears I had been holding back to fall.

I took that opportunity to shove as violently as I could against his chest, or that is, what I assumed was his chest. The move took him by surprise, putting him off balance. He rocked backwards on his heel and I slipped from his grasp, nearly tripping over my feet. I scrambled to get away, running as far and as fast as I could, into the nothingness. I did not know what was out there, but whatever it was, it was definitely better than being with that creature.

“You can run but you will get nowhere!” The stranger laughed, his voice echoed all around me, chasing me as I ran into the endless dark.

I ignored him, sneaking a glance over my shoulder and finding that there was no one behind me. I slowed to a stop, feeling like I had gotten away. I was breathing heavily, not used to any type of exercise. I scanned the area around me, unable to see much in the dim dark, but pretty sure that I had gotten away from the stranger. I heaved a sigh of relief, thinking myself saved. Yeah, right. Rocket science intelligence and I still did not see that one coming.

I turned around and ran smack dab into the stranger, nose hitting dark fabric, getting a big whiff of his sulfurous, death stench. He grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides as he cackled.

“Nice try, but you are mine now, Anne.”

“No…” I moaned, beginning to cry.

My body started to shake and my arms burned from his touch. He squeezed my arms tightly, so that I would not get away. The agony caused me to whimper in fright.

“Yes, Anne… no need to deny…”

I was beginning to lose consciousness, my brain shutting down and compensating for my fear, for my confusion, for my utter lack of understanding.

“Let me go…” I murmured, my voice losing its strength. My struggles gradually ceased and I felt limp, so very tired.

That same laughter, that same whispered tone, “Anne…”

“Anne?” Ryou’s deep voice penetrated the dim fog of my unconsciousness. It brought me out of the dream world and into reality, albeit slowly.

I groaned slightly, my face aching around the left side of my jaw. I worked my mouth, trying to allay the stiffness even as I struggled to open my eyes.

“Ugh… Ryou?” I asked, confusion evident.

The dream, the vision, whatever it was, was still fresh in my mind. I could taste the sulfur in my mouth and it made me want to spit and gag. My body shivered as one last wave of pain shuddered through me.

The monk breathed a sigh of relief, his somewhat canine face twisting into a smile. “Finally. I thought you were never going to wake. And then you kept murmuring in a weird language that I have never heard.” He rubbed a gentle hand over my shoulder.

I winced, hating how my voice came out little more than a croak. “Is… is it done?”

Ryou nodded, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Yes but...Tucker wants to ask you a question before you leave.”

“What kind of question?” I asked as I tried to sit up.

I found myself in a hospital-like room. White blanketed bed, white walls, sterile equipment, white curtains covering the window, not very inspiring. Only Ryou was present, sitting by the side of my bed. This was getting to be a habit for us.

My fingers went to my ears, running along my jaw to where a small square patch of cotton was taped on both sides, obviously covering the new tattoo to prevent infection. My jaw slightly ached and I groaned knowing that I would feel it for days to come.

He hesitated before answering. “I don’t know.” I frowned, wondering why Ryou was suddenly so secretive. It wasn’t like him. He had seemed so forthcoming with information before.

Just then, Tucker made an appearance, knocking gently on the door before opening it and inviting himself in. He was followed by a stranger, dressed the same as Tucker and Ryou but more extravagant, gold jewelry hanging around his neck. He had snow white hair, cut short to his head, and a somewhat kind face, dark brown eyes sparkling merrily.

Did all monks have brown eyes or was it just me?

I stared as they entered, wondering what was going on. “What is this?”

Tucker bowed deeply. “Forgive me Ryou, Anne, but I had to report them,” he apologized before scurrying from the room, leaving his unidentified companion behind. I scowled, thinking him a coward.

“What is going on?” Ryou demanded, rising from his chair. His deep brows pinched into a frown and he was clearly unhappy with the proceedings.

I looked between the three men in confusion, wondering why even Ryou seemed surprised.

“Calm down brother, and let me explain,” the snow-haired man answered, holding up a hand to still him. Ryou took his seat, watching the man warily. I sat up straight in the bed, my eyes trained on the kind older gentleman.

“I am Archbishop Constance, the head of the order in this establishment.” He took a seat with wheels, and pulled himself closer to me on the bed and Ryou on the chair. He continued to smile, though I was beginning to feel uneasy by him. The friendliness suddenly seemed smarmy.

My monk-protector scowled. “Why has the archbishop come to see us?” he demanded, inching closer to me as his hand lingered close to his staff.

“I see that you are one of our order, brother. Surely you know the rules,” answered Constance, leveling his dark gaze at the monk.

Ryou’s eyes turned hard and he looked away from the archbishop, concentrating instead on some vague spot on the far wall. “I am no longer an active part of the ministry, your holiness.”

“Is that so?” the archbishop questioned, raising a brow. He leaned back in his seat, hands placed placidly in his lap.

“Look, that is beside the point here,” I interrupted, clearly exasperated. The look on Ryou’s face was beginning to seem pained and for all that he had done for me, I was determined to repay him somehow. “What rules and why do they pertain to me?”

Constance was gentle but his words were exasperated. “The wards, child, the blood wards on your arms and chest.” He spoke as if I were stupid, gesturing directly towards me. I instantly recoiled at his use of ‘child’ like the stranger in my dream, and instinctively pulled away.

“What about them?” I questioned, my tone gone cold.

But it was Ryou who answered, “Any person or person’s exhibiting any relation to the Anura horde and/or marked must remain in the custody of Babel until their threat to Neuma is determined or destroyed by any means necessary.” He spoke as if reciting directly from a law manual, clipped and memorized.

“Those are the marks, evidence that you have been warded to prevent the manifestation of your spirit.” The archbishop frowned, disliking the expressions on both of our faces.

By now, I was thoroughly confused. I had no idea what it meant to be warded, I did not understand what happened to me last night, and I certainly did not want to remain in a stark, old temple. Not to mention I did not like the sound of ‘any means necessary.’

“That’s it! What the hell’s going on here!” I demanded answers, my voice rising and threatening to go hysterical.

Constance shook his head, slowly rising to his feet as he brushed imaginary lint from his robes. “I am sorry, but you are going to have to remain here until we can determine whether or not you are a danger to Neuma.”

“No!” Ryou yelled forcefully getting to his feet at the same time that I screamed the same.

I didn’t trust this continuously smiling archbishop. I didn’t like his smarmy behavior and I suddenly wanted to leave. The temple? Donnil? The continent? The world, itself? It didn’t matter so long as I no longer had to look at Constance’s sycophantic face.

“Do not make me do this by force,” warned the monk, eyes hardening. “You know that I am quite capable of doing so.”

Ryou’s eyes bounced around wildly looking for an escape. “She has friends and belongings that she will need. Let us leave and come back, at least to let her say goodbye.” He pleaded.

“I’m afraid--”

“Please.” I resorted to begging, my stomach curling in imagined fear. I let tears come to my eyes, not a difficult task considering how close I was already. “They are all I have in the world.”

The archbishop sighed as his pale cheeks colored just a little. “It is always the young, pretty ones,” he murmured. Ryou and I exchanged glances, hoping that my ruse had worked. “But I will need Ryou’s vow that you will return.”

“Your holiness, my vow means nothing…” protested my companion. I rolled my eyes when he said that. We could have gone away scott free but no, Ryou had to be Mr. Honest and True.

Constance shook his head negatively. “No, Ryou. You know that even though you are not active, to follow the path to Babel at one time, you made a sacred promise that could never be broken. What you vow, you will forever uphold, or be considered forsworn to the highest court in heaven.”

Ryou paled instantly, hands twisting around themselves. “I… had forgotten.”

“Do you thus promise?” he asked, pushing for an answer.

My companion nodded his head, taking a deep breath and gulping. “I do so vow.” I did not understand at the time what that meant to the monk, and I wish I had. I would have never let him make that choice in such a way if I had.

Constance nodded. “Then you may leave. I want her back by midnight tonight however. Stakes are high and the danger is immeasurable.” His tone had the sound of one who wanted no argument.

Ryou and I promised to return and Constance left us alone, seeming too pleased with himself for it to be a simple matter of the safety of Neuma. We exchanged worried glances and many questions were on my lips. But Ryou shushed me, telling me that we would discuss it when we returned to the inn. I agreed with him as we left from the temple. Finally, perhaps some of my questions would get answered.

*****

a/n: That's all for chapter four! But there's plenty more to come! I promise. It gets darker and dirtier... and there's even some sex, but all for the sake of the plot, I swear. I welcome all theories!

Thanks and I look forward to your comments!