literature

Naraka - Ch.11

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 Amos dismisses us after his little speech fairly quickly. Only a few other recruits ask some basic questions – like what the duration of our training will be, and if we'll stay in this place all through our training, etc. etc. – but after that the immortals leave us free to spend the day as we please.
 And I, for once, have a great idea. I was thinking, while looking at all the books in this great library, that there might also be some history books. History books with information. History books about the many species, and maybe even about the two worlds.
 When I tell Kate my plan, her eyes turn very determent and excited – yes, we are certainly two people made for adventure.
 Many of the other recruits decide to stay in the library as well, so it's busy. I'm grateful for it, because it means Kate and mine actions will come across less suspicious – after all, it's not every day the others see a book in either of our hands.
 For hours and hours we spit through every history book we can find. For hours and hours we read huge and boring pieces on forgotten human cultures, and countries that don't exist any more.
 It's tiresome, very much so. But wouldn't be half as tiresome if we would have actually found something good. But we don't. All day we read, all day we look, but nothing helps us. To be more accurate; we don't find a single book on another species than the human one. Nothing about vampires, immortals, or . . . witches.
 I still have to get used to the idea. That witches walk this earth as well. Vampires were easy to accept as real, because I haven't known the world better than from when they took a part in it. But not witches. They are the creatures of myths and fairytales, not real stories.
 Nor are immortals . . . but they are so much like the vampires, and around us all the time here, that they are much more easily to accept as real. Because if they weren't, I would've been sleeping for weeks now, and these would be my dreams – I know that is not true.
 When the skies overhead – easily watchable because of the many windows – start to darken, the library becomes more and more quiet.
 Kate and I had spent our entire day in the library, our entire day reading. We'd even eaten lunch in the library. And not having left the one single room for hours, it was making our minds foggy. We needed to get out.
 The moment we realized this, we also noticed that the library was empty. Except for us two, there was no one any more.
 I look at the clock; it's six – an hour before dinner is served. We still have time, but we can't stand the library one minute longer.
 After Kate and I are done putting the books back in their places, Kate leaves right away. I stay behind a little bit longer. I walk over to one of the long tables – the one we've been sitting at the whole day – and put some papers with notes in a pile. It's nothing of use, but I won't throw it away.
 I look at the quiet room around me.
 The library is dark and silent like a closed shop. Not that I've ever been to a shop, but I imagine it's not much different than any other public place.
 I'm completely alone.
 No one is here . . .
 Or is there?
 I don't see anyone in this dark. And logic is on the alone side; who could possibly be here at this time?
 But I feel – a presence. The way you can feel when someone's looking at you. The way you can feel when someone's following you . . . someone's following me, someone's looking at me. I'm sure.
 My eyes scan the room frantically; showing off every bit of how frightened I am – not a very sensible thing to do. I try to calm down my racing heart by taking a deep breath. It slows, yes, it does – but by far not enough.
 What's happening?
 Am I imagining this? Or is it real? And, most importantly: what do I do?
 Walk away?
 No.
 Fear tells me to run, but a burning curiosity – even ten times stronger – holds me where I am. Adventure, that's what I'll have. Above all costs.
 I freeze.
 A sound. Silent like the wind but definitely a sound. I heard it. Coming from . . . where?
 I turn my whole body sharply around, on my heel. Shock. I feel it spread through my whole body. I try to suck in too much breath at one time; I choke.
 Before me, stands a man – if that's what it is; it's too dark to be sure.
 For a moment that seemed endless, but was probably only a few seconds, we stand and watch each other. We really haven't any reason to, since it's too dark to see each other clearly – so why stand and watch? I don't know about him, but I for one, am much too surprised to do anything else.
 After what feels like ages, he starts to move. He exhales breath that he's been holding in for a long time. While he does this, his whole body relaxes and slumps. As soon as he does this, he collapses to the ground.
 I blink rapidly a few times, for I can't really believe what I'm seeing. This must be a dream, surely. This can't be real.
 But it is. It feels, looks and sounds too real for it not to be reality – I convince myself, and come into action.
 The man lies on the ground, moaning silently. He raises his upper body by leaning on his elbow, trying to get on his feet. But his attempt is not going well and I can see his features twist from pain.
 After the numb shock starts to leave my body, all I feel – except form fear – is worry. Actual worry, that makes my eyes wide and my brow furrowed. Actual worry, that makes me go down on my knees, leaning over him on the floor. Actual worry, that makes my arms reach out, wanting to do something but not knowing what. A worry that makes me want to help him.
 ''What can I do?'' I ask, my voice desperate but barely audible – I'm kind of surprised it makes sound at all.
 Another moan rips through his lips and his body twists in strange ways. ''Nothing,'' he whispers, his voice cynical as he grins – an actual grin! After the word has left his mouth he has to catch his breath from the effort it took to get it out.
 ''What's wrong?'' I ask – a much more sensible question than the other one.
 He doesn't answer with words, but with an action. As his nostrils flare violently from his panting, he pushes his hands half an inch away from his skin. He'd been pressing both his hands against the skin of his lower stomach from the moment he collapsed. And now he moves away his hands for a short second I can see there's blood. It's coming, from a probably deep, wound on his stomach.
 Without a second though I get to my feet. I look around in the room with frantic eyes; looking for cloth. I find what I need hanging in front of a window. One of the windows has a light and very thin curtain that I'm sure is my best option. I run to the window in my quickest sprint and rip a part from the thin fabric. It's about a feet wide and two yards long, which should be good.
 I run back to the man, kneel next to him, but as my hands reach out to touch him I freeze. My fingers hang in the air, just an inch from his bloody hands. I raise my eyes to meet his, questioning. He thinks for a moment, seeming reluctant, but in the end he nods his approval.
 I make up my mind of what to do quickly, keeping in mind what is most important: stopping the blood flow. Instead of moving my fingers to touch him, I pull them back so I can rip a few inches from the fabric that was curtain only a moment ago. I fold it a few times to make it thicker until it's just small enough.
 When I'm done I reach out to touch his skin for the first time. It feels cold. And hard. Alarm bells – very loud alarm bells – start to sound in my head. But I don't stop. I don't freeze, not even for a second. The . . . man, doesn't notice anything.
 I push away his hands from the wounds and hold the little piece of cloth against it. Now I'm closer I see something I hadn't noticed before, because of the darkness: it's black. The liquid streaming from his wound, the blood, is black.
 I feel the cold wave of shock wash through my body, I do. But again; I don't react in any way on the outside.
 ''Hold this,'' I say as I throw him a quick glance; he's watching me intently.
 He obeys instantly. I pick up the rest of the cloth from the ground. He moves his away from the wound for a moment so I can place the end on top of the smaller piece. He presses his fingers against it as soon as I've done this. In our quick movements my skin brushes lightly against his. I can feel his eyes watching mine like a fierce sun, it's rays piercing. But I don't look up.
 I stretch out the cloth across the naked skin – his shirt is moved up – of his stomach, from the beginning at the wound. I stretch it out as far as I can, but finally I have to stop because my fingers hit the ground.
 ''Can you bent a little?'' I ask, my voice soft and patient, my eyes intently on the floor.
 He complies to my demand without a word. Though sounds, do come from his mouth. Sounds of pain and effort. It takes him a while, but he is able to push his stomach from the ground. I keep on stretching the cloth over his skin, across his back. Touching him more than once, but still refusing to look.
 When I'm back at his wound with the cloth, I decided it's better to make another round. I do, and when I'm back at the wound I tie the two ends of cloth to each other.
 ''Done,'' I breathe, when I am – still not looking him in the eye.
 ''Done,'' he breathes, his voice even lower than mine.
 I raise my eyes to his to look him straight in the eye, without blinking. And he does the same. ''Who are you?'' I demand without a second thought, taking advantage from my spur of the moment bravery.
 He snorts quietly and smiles a weak grin at me, these actions tell me he was expecting the question but doesn't like it. ''My name is Davous,'' he answers – I can still see the pain he feels clearly on his face.
 ''And what are you?'' I demand a second later, accepting no riffraff.
 ''Vampire,'' he answers breathlessly.
 One word.
 Seven letters.
 And the world around me falls to pieces.
Romance is in the air!!
;POkay, I'll admit it's way too early to be saying that - they've just met each other, so it's safe to say that it'll take a while.
And it's not even the romance I care about. I'm just excited about this particular relationship (between Marianna and Davous) - it's going to be quite interesting :)

Please comment what you think of it!

Here's the next chapter: [link]


Naraka (c) me
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TanukiTagawa's avatar
:bulletwhite: Seem that the heroin´s entrant will learn that the vampires aren´t the monolithic evil ruck that she always believed... :roll: