Iron

'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown...

Her head lolled back, scraping the rough stone with every rotation. In the corner by the small font was a steady dripdripdripalwaysdripping, water running along the cold stone to fall and pool and escape again through the cracks and hollows that hide beneath even the smoothest surface.

Digging in her bag, she pulled out a granola bar, choking down the dry coarse grain, one hand white-knuckling on the iron pipe, bruised blue eyes vacantly watching the door. It's how they surprised her last time, waiting until she was preoccupied with trying to find water, fresh water, before swarming her, ugly things with their rotten stench and molding limbs. She'd cold-cocked one right across the head, splitting it open like a bloated corpse, river stench filling the air. It was still in here with her, laid across the gate like some macabre guardian, limbs twisted up around and backwards, maw gaping up at the sky, teeth sticking up like rickety grave stones. They really were green, like the name said, but it was only from the mold of their rivers.

"Hunterrr...." Their leader (or so she assumed; there were only three of them roaming around, all alike) hissed at her from the door, blood-stained fingers wrapped tightly around the thin bars.

She met its cold gaze, eyes emptier than the bloody sockets staring at her. She said nothing. It didn't matter; she had no reason to say anything.

"Hunterrr...We brrring you sssome company..." It laughed, shrill and dissonant, rocks scraping bone. She refused to acknowledge it, shifting so her eyes stared blankly at the wall, seemingly distracted by the flaking blood splatter.

The door screeched open on rusty joints; a few days before and she would've bolted, smashed that thing across it's ugly face and ran until her feet touched the sky.

She sat there, griping her pipe, sprawled bonelessly against the wall. She didn't even twitch when it slithered in, dragging a limp body behind it.

"Herrre... A playmate forrr you...." It tossed the thing at her, laughing that dissonant laugh when he body slammed into her, wringing a wretched screech from her raw throat. Blood roared and raged, black spun and weaved and danced, leaving a white-hot trail of glittering pain behind.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the pain down and away, breath coming in short, inefficient gasps as she fought for control. Slowly, the world crept back in, reminding her with sounds and smells.

Eyes half lidded, she looked over the body it threw in with her, taking in the slowly rising chest, the abrasions over every bare surface, the bleeding dent by the temple. Showing it away, she felt a brief surge of pity for the girl; there was no way it'd live through the night.

Time passed; she was aware of it, but unable to act on it. Her hand fell, weightless until it hit, then doubled tripled oh god the agony burned and then she could move, galvanized into action.

Slowly, gingerly, she prodded the shirt tied tight around her thigh, forcing her fingers to stop shaking long enough to untie the simple knot, unwrapping the fabric like a holy relic lay inside. It wasn't, though, it was just her leg, torn open and oozing, blood and puss and lymph leaking from the edges, rotting from the inside out. Looking down, she could see the splintered white gleaming through, grinding and hurting and oh, god, she was going to throw up.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she forced herself to breath, in out in out in out till the nausea was gone, rolling around in her stomach but not in her throat, threatening to come out. Leaning over, she swished her shirt in the small font in her small cell, trying so hard not to think of all the different diseases she could get, wishing for fire, for her goddamn medkit hidden under the passenger's seat, stoked with everything from bandages to percocet, then wrung it out and pressed it to her leg, tears running down her face from the twin bursts of pain/relief from the cold, tying it back up snug as a bug.

Time slipped away again, running through her fingers like oily sand, clumped and clotted with the life waters, swirling her off to worlds unknown.

When Marie first opened her eyes, she felt like her head was going to explode, bursting out her eyes to run down her cheeks (like those things that caught her oh God what were they?!).

Groaning, she crawled to her elbows and knees, pressing the heel of one hand to the side of her head, trying to stop the pounding. Green eyes peeked open, haze clearing until she saw something in font of her and shrieked. Freezing like a rabbit, she eyed the body slouched against the wall, glancing away from vacant blue eyes with a full body shudder, feeling her skin pull and stretch.

"Oh, God, that hurts," she moaned, resting her head back on her arms, nose scrapping the dirt and stone ground.

A low scraping sound creeped into the air; it took her a long moment to realise the body was laughing, slow and rough and airy, like there wasn't enough energy to laugh for real.

"You're alive?" It was redundant, but she had to say something. The body stared at her, blinking slowly, lips twisting into a mockery of a smirk. Blood beaded up and spilled down her chin, dripping to the floor; Marie's eyes followed it, stomach doing a sick slow flop.

"....perhaps....maybe not....hurts enough to be 'live but ghosts feel pain yes they do, so there's no way to tell...salt and burn till the bones crack and spill, life's secrets revealed to you..." Her voice sliped in and out, nonsense flowing on a breezy current. Marie noticed her flushed, waxy skin, sweat turning the corners of her hair dark and lank.

"Are you sick? You look like you're running a fever..."

A bit more life this time, eyes roving in their sockets. "...prolly...septic...infection...gangrene...might have to take to whole leg off then where would I be? Gotta make it out, though, have to let them know...."

"Let who know what?" Marie wondered if this is how priests feel, taking last rites, because there was no way that the girl was going to live much longer, delirious and feverish. Marie could at least give her some peace before she slipped away.

The girl's eyes shutter open and shut, flickering like bad reception. "...hunters....need to know...pack...twenty or more....greenteeth and lamiae, working together...lamia in charge, vengeful and tough...greenteeth go down easy, just a little iron with sufficient force and they split like melons...I'm not going to die, kid, so stop lookin' at me like that you wanna look at a corpse look at the one behind you..." After the stream she stopped, head lolled back and jaw slack. Marie could tell she was still breathing, though, rattling in clicking out, so she turned around and wished she hadn't. There was a lump of bleeding mold with limbs and teeth, rotting and stagnating right behind her and Christ how did she miss that?

"What is it?" She asked without expecting an answer, but the girl surprised her, starting up again, voice rougher and fainter than before.

"A...Jenny Greenteeth...Native to Britian, carried over by settlers. River hag, drowns the unwary for the trouble she's suffered. Children for those she's lost, Elders for those who damned her to her life. So it goes. Wankers." Another broken laugh. "Lies and misleads, of course, but they all come from somewhere and the fools keep them alive through song and dance, each more false than the last.

"You should be dead, you know, head cracked and oozing, stars from the moon pouring into the dippers like milk from the sky. How'd you do it?"

A shiver slipped down Marie's spine and she shrugged, lightly brushing her head. "I don't--"

"Right there," a finger lift off the pipe she'd been gripping tightly, aimed right at Marie's head. "Blood and bone. Clay and earth. You feel different? Weird thoughts wants cravings for things you shouldn't have?" And she smirked again, blood bleeding up and flowing and shit her heart just stopped.

"Wha....what?" She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest like she could will her heart into behaving; the girl just snorted, faint and dead.

"Too bad won't get out they've got some of the blood, clever bitch, clevah gel, so that's how they'll get rid of me for secrets secrets mums the word can't say anything." She dissolved into faint singing, words too low for Marie to make out.

Marie was so confused, nothing made sense, but she knew they had to get out, she had to get the girl to a hospital, or else she'd die.

New-girl-vampire was staring again, hadn't her momma ever taught her it wasn't nice to stare? Vaguely, she knew that she was descending into incoherency, if she hadn't been nestled there already, but that meant she probably wouldn't know it when the girl moved to suck all her blood out.

The girl was talking again; more effort to tune in to the right frequency, all filled up with static and blood. "...where....we? ......know....to...out?"

"Under old jail, cliched, they aren't terribly creative, tunnel leads up and out, up up and away zooom...." Sniggering slightly, she wondered what her stupid brother was doing, if he still read the same old comics. Not that it mattered.

The world tilted and floated away; a fresh wave of pure agony rolled over her leg and she screamed, biting her lip to muffle the noise, shaking shaking gonna fall apart. Hands in her hair, soothing, voice in her ear whispering like a lover or a mother.

"It's alright I'm sorry but I think I can get us out, I don't want to hurt you but there's no way I'm leaving you there; you'll die without help. Just relax, I got you.." Again and again and again like a carousel round and round. Everything went limp and she let the girl-thing carry her, world swimming and morphing, never staying still.

When she came to, she was lying in a hospital bed, staring at the sterile ceiling. Tilting her head, she saw the girl sleeping by her side, looking pale and drawn in the harsh lights.

"...How long has it been?" Her voice was still rough, but the pain was gone; roving her eyes around, she caught sight of the morphine drip and considered disconnecting it but let it be. She could swallow her pride for once.

The girl blinked open sleepy eyes, rubbing one as she talked. "Four days. They thought you were gonna lose your leg; you're lucky.

"I'm Marie," she said softly, holding her hand out.

An introduction. She could do this. "Hello Marie. I'm Liz. You should eat something."

"Tried. Whatever I eat just comes right up. Doctors think it's the stress." She played with her fingers, nervous, laugh bubbling just under the surface. "I think you might know."

"...Possibly, but you won't believe me." And its just a line, a stupid one, like 'You can't handle the truth!' Pathetic bullshit.

Marie gave her a hard stare, throwing her. "Vampire, right?" she guessed cannily, face pinched. "You babbled some of it when I was getting you out; tried to tell me what you thought I'd need to know, told me where your notebooks are. I read them while they operated on you. I read up on the Greenteeth and the Lamiae as well as the vampires, so don't tell me what you think I will and won't believe." She looked so impassioned, standing up for herself when other's would be panicking, strong when others would be angsting.

Liz studied her, thinking clearly despite all the drugs coursing through her. Reaching one hand out, she ripped the iv from her arm, dropping the tube to the floor.

"Alright," she said calmly, putting pressure on her arm to stop the bleeding. "I'm gonna stay here another day till I'm patched up good and proper, then you and I are going to go back to their nest and kill every last evil fucker down there. In the mean time, you're going to filch some blood. Try for AB pos; it's the most useless. Regroup your strength, and stick close by me. Don't want to take the risk of someone trying to go van Helsing on your ass."

The pain was coming back, black and rolling under her skin. Marie looked confused, face blank.

"Why?" she asked simply, shoulders shrugging minutely. Liz grinned through the pain, teeth bared.

"'Cause you just became my partner in crime," she responded flippantly, laughing. "Besides, you want revenge, right?"

Marie nodded.

"Well then, that settles it." Shifting, Liz let her eyes slide close. "Tomorrow, we're going to kick some ass."

AN: Written 08.03.22
How Liz and Marie met. This is still my favourite.