And her name is…

I’m not sure when I’ve fallen asleep but I must have. Distantly my body aches wonderfully but I’m walking around without that direct sense. My feet hitting the ground doesn’t give me any sensation so I know I’m dreaming. It isn’t hard to recognize my home town, even from the ruins that it appears to be in now. This nightmare feels different than the others and I start to walk the streets warily.

Without fully realizing it, I start to walk home. I take two rights and a left until I’m in front of the little cottage at the end of the road. Everything else is burnt or broken, and in various states of inhospitable, but my house looks perfect. I can’t tell if it’s because my mind doesn’t want to imagine my family home being destroyed or if it’s because no one would have been hiding inside to need to deal with it. Regardless, my front yard is still covered in colourful wildflowers and the front door is closed. None of the windows are broken and it looks exactly as I left it that last day.

When I enter my house it’s warm and I can smell the cake my family always made for birthdays. I half expect to see my mom and dad in the kitchen, my mom pulling it out of the oven without oven mitts, as she often did with the safety of her affinity, and then my dad running over to save her. He would burn himself, even after all their time together he never fully believed it didn’t hurt her, and then I would give him a drop of my blood to erase his pain. No one was in the kitchen, but the cake sat on the kitchen table with piping bags, ready to be decorated. I move to it, the familiar picture drawing me in to complete the project, but a dull click from down the hall pulls my attention.

My mom and dad walk out of their room, the room I had made into a book room after their passing, and they’re giggling until mom sees me and stops. “My deer, you’re home early. I haven’t decorated the cake yet.”

My eyes are wide and I can’t help but stare. Their faces look just as they always should have. If dad had been Sioga and my mom never did the unthinkable, they would look just like this. I feel my throat closing around the pain and I can’t bring myself to say the words. Both my parents look about to rush me with concern before I’m finally able to choke out.

“You’re dead. This isn’t real.” They stop in their tracks.

“Deer, we’re here…” my dad tries.

“No you’re not. You haven’t been with me for some time now. You left me!” I accuse, and I can feel myself crying despite not being able to feel anything else. “This house was just for me for decades, this town was all I knew….”

“And you failed it,” my mom returns, frowning at me.

I nod, accepting that as truth. “Everyone I ever cared about died in this town.”

I hear noise outside and it sounds like a crowd is gathering. There’s a mumble of voices at the front of my house and I go to check on it. There are dozens and dozens of people approaching my property but they don’t look right. They hobble and limp, groaning as they walk and not speaking as I had thought. I pull the shutters closed and lock them, rushing to the kitchen window to do the same before bolting the door. I want more time with my parents before the nightmare takes ahold of me.

“What about now?” My dad asks and I look up at him as the first fist pounds the door. “Do you care about anyone new?”

My mind flicks to their friends I’ve made, and then desperately tried to shut down that line of thought as it approaches Wulfric. I can’t admit to anything with him. My mind is made up and I’m not about to go back on my revenge for something so…

My mom and dad hold hands like they are each others anchor that keepsthem here with me. “I can’t bring myself to care about anyone the way I did this town, not when the end is in sight.”

My mom shakes her head and I catch her squeezing my dad’s hand. “It doesn’t have to be the end, youchosethis path, you can un-choose it.”

I shake my own head now. “No, like you said, I failed them. They deserve justice…”

“But why at your hand? Why do you need to go to avenge them?” My dad pleads, shaking their joined hands at me.

“Because it’s my fault!” I shout back. “I’m as much to blame as Kheliq. If I hadn’t saved that guy, or if I had been training like mom told me to… I could have prevented it! I could have even just let go and killed everyone equally, at least all of my friends would have died without any pain…”

“And you would have lost yourself in the process,” my mom says gently. “You would have become the animal to be shot and killed by the next human to find you, or worse..”

“It would be better than the guilt I feel every-single-day for living through it,” I whine, gasping around the tears now. “ I’ve live two of all their lives, and I’m responsible for their deaths. Why should I live while they’re dead. The children…” I squeak, unable to finish voicing that particular horror as the sounds outside get louder.

“You did your best with what you had,” my mom begins.

“You saved someone hours from home and led them away, and it isn’t in you to see the bad in people. You grew up being able to trust everyone implicitly. It isn’t your fault. …” my dad tries but I interrupt.

“I could do more. I should havebeenmore. I lost everything to Kheliq and I will make sure he loses everything to me. I already care too much about these people I barely know, and look what’s become of the people I helpedraise,-“I gesture to the front of the house where they try to get in, fists now banging all across the front wall. “If I let myself truly trust and care about anyone, they’ll end up just like them. I can’t trust anyone to be there for me,-“ I look at both of them considerately and a whimper escapes me, -“not even you.”

I can almost sense what’s to come as their hands separate. Their skin goes grey and their eyes seem to roll back into their skulls when really all the colour is just leached from their irises. Their teeth fall out like gruesome party confetti onto the floor and I start to side step them. I hear the shatter of a window and can’t bare to see which of my old friends has broken in first. I dart to my room and close the door knowing it isn’t as sturdy as the exterior defences. If they can get inside the house, they can get in this room.

I’m backing towards my bed when strong arms wrap around my torso and I get this smell like my reading room next door. “Do you care about me, little mouse?”

The voice is wrong and I turn my head slowly to look over my shoulder. His skin is greying, his nails pinching into my sides as he holds me to him, and all life leaves his beautiful eyes. I can’t help feel forlorn even as the panic starts to move in. I try to shake him off but he smiles and his teeth fall out over my shoulder, some getting stuck in my hair or in the breast of my blouse. Nothing but a moan escapes his throat as he holds onto me and then I can hear the others banging on my bedroom door.

I feel his toothless mouth move toward my ear and then he whispers, “I care aboutyou.”

—

I wake up screaming and throw everything touching me away. It’s just a blanket but I stare around the dark room, backing up to what I realize is a headboard as I gather that I’m in a bed. A second later a door opens and light shines into the room, blacking out the figure that comes out. I can’t stop screaming, trying to kick the rest of the blankets wrapped around my leg to get away when they crawl into the bed.

“Theo, Theo, it’s okay ssshh…” I hear his voice but I can’t see his face and I can still imagine it as that grey being that held me for the others to attack.

“I’m sorry,” I shout at the memory before I mean to keep those words inside but his hand grabs my ankle, to stop me from kicking him, and it’s alive with colour.

My breathing is still coming out in a panic but he holds my foot down and crawls into the bed beside me before grabbing the wrist I was swatting at him with and pulling me to sit in his lap. Now his back is against the headboard and he’s holding me, his legs on either side of mine. His hands hold my wrists as both of us hug me like the compression alone will calm my breathing. It works slowly and he kisses the back of my head while whispering that I’m safe.

When my breathing slows enough he asks, “what did you see?”

“Everyone I cared about, everyonei my town, is dead because of me. They were basically zombies, and they were coming for me. You were dead… holding me so they could tear me apart. ..” my voice chokes off and he holds me tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, kissing my head again. “I thought we got you tired enough last night to keep the dreams away. I shouldn’t have left you. I’ll never leave you alone and prone again.” He loosens his grip to pull me sideways in his lap and brings my hand to touch his face. “I’m fine, and even dead I would never let anyone hurt you.”

He peppers kisses down the side of my face and I let myself lean into him. It doesn’t matter if he’s telling the truth, I will beat him to the grave and it’ll never be an issue. I tuck my head against him as I quietly cry, and he doesn’t move. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t try to make it better, and in doing so gives me what I want. I leave my hand on his cheek for a while, every so often skating my thumb over his lips so I can feel the firm form of his teeth.

I lose track of time as he holds me until he softly nips at my thumb during one of my passes over his lips. I jump in his lap but he doesn’t let me go, just kisses the digit and squeezes me again.

“Why wasthis oneso bad?” He asks softly but I don’t answer him right away as I think up something that isn’t a lie.

“My parents were there,” I say softly, “in my house.. like they never left….”

“Were they cruel to you.. about what happened?” He guesses carefully but I shake my head.

“No. They were too understanding, and gentle, treating me like the bringer of life that they always did.” My voice is light but I know he hears the sarcasm there. “They always saw the best in me and…”I hesitate, wondering how to voice what I’ve never said. “How are your parents?”

“My mom fights in the army, a ranking general, and my dad serves as a craftsman. With a family high in society a lot was expected of us. I saw my parents fairly often, all things considered, but it didn’t make the visits more loving. They were always just as strict, but I always knew that Noryth followed their rules to a T only while they were looking. He was doing more wild shit that I never would have been able to get away with. I always had eyes on me, making sure I kept in line as Kheliq’s charge.” His fingers rub my skin where he touches me and he starts to sway with me as I calm down.

“Mine… mine were like friends. They were always my confidaunts, and I told my mother everything. She was always up front with me, told me everything about her past and where she came from, the threats that were out there and why it was best we stayed away but why one day she feared we’d go back…” I drift off and sigh. “My mom never asked more of me than what I could handle, until she asked way too much when she knew I couldn’t refuse.”

“You don’t need to make excuses for her,” he whispers gently. “If you had a relationship like you describe, she knew what she was asking.”

I nod. “I know, but I can’t find it in me to blame her.”