Requiem for Blood

Read Requiem for Blood Online

Authors: Alexandra Hope

Requiem for Blood

Copyright © 2013 Alexandra Hope

All Rights Reserved.

 

 

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http://www.harlequin-ink.com

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All credits go to DominikaAniola at deviantArt for the Mystic Woods stock.

One

 

 


Do you believe in immortality?” The woman's words were muffled as they fought through the thick cloud of teetering consciousness, “I can give it to you right now.”

Olivia's eyes focused on her and she took in her shape; a tall, slender woman, her features masked by a red tint. She pressed her palm against the wooden pier beneath her body, her ears listening intently to the dull roar of the waves underneath them. Olivia struggled to push herself up, sighing heavily as she forced her body upward but quickly came crashing back down. She could feel several of her ribs torn down and broken within her, but she had to get up. Something was calling to her from the other end of the pier and she knew that with all her strength she had to save it.


I need you to listen to me.” Her voice was faint and served as a dull reminder that she was still with Olivia. She knelt down and pulled Olivia's blood soaked body onto her legs, allowing her to see clearly what was behind them. From the small pier hovering just above a lake that she lay on, she saw that they were encased in a forest where trees wrapped around them and hid them from the rest of the world. Through a red tint, she saw the outline of a man and followed his arms to a younger man whose shirt he had balled up in his fist. From the stillness of his body, one would assume the boy was dead, but Olivia could feel it, the soft pattering against the cage of his chest. He was alive but unconscious in the man's grasp. The young woman's hand rubbed against Olivia's back, “I can give you the immortality you need to save him.” Her voice again but a whisper to Olivia. She looked up at her, whose features were still covered in a hazy fog of crimson and opened her mouth to speak, but blood poured out faster than any words could escape. Death was upon her, and she wondered what the mysterious woman could do for her.


Do you want it or not?” she asked urgently as her words danced along the line of impatience.

Olivia nodded through the bouts of blood pouring out of her mouth and seeping between the cracks of the pier. The girl leaned in closely and pulled Olivia's toffee colored hair back that extended just past her shoulders in waves. She exposed Olivia's pale white neck; her skin frailly stretched over her bones and bared massive fangs. Olivia didn't contemplate her own fate so much as she contemplated the fate of the boy who was still helplessly suspended in the air by a frightening shape of a man. Olivia turned to the woman who held her mortality in her hand and was looking down at her with an incomprehensible expression.


What are you doing? Help me!” Olivia shouted, warm liquid suspended on the rims of her eyes.


Hmm?” Her voice was now defiant and sadistic, “Why? So you can help him? He's already dead.”

Olivia looked up and saw the boy in the same position. Nothing had looked any different from the last time her eyes were upon him, but then she decided to quiet herself and listen in on his heartbeat. She knew that no matter how faint it was, she could pick up on it's sound. She wanted to hear it, but nothing came from him, nothing but an unnerving sound of drops against the wooden boards. An alarming crackle broke out between the clouds and a medley of soft drops fell against the wood, clear water mixed in with red as it washed the blood away. As the rain fell down harder, she lifted her head and saw in the man's hand an oddly shaped red organ, spurting blood. He had already let go of the boy's bloody shirt and he fell to the ground with a hard thud. A sound escaped her throat and screamed out in agony as she watched the boy fall, though she was not entirely aware of it. It yelled out with tearful sorrow knowing it had been unable to do anything for him.

She rose to her feet but not by her own volition and could feel the fingernails digging deep within the flesh of her neck and the warmth of the blood as it seeped out of the wounds. She looked up at the young woman who had taken her free hand to Olivia's head then removed her fingers from her neck and put it up to her head as well, pressing deeply against her skull.


Never forget, you asked for this. This immortality,” she said as tore her arms in opposite directions to a snapping sound and broke Olivia's neck. Olivia fell to her knees and then to her head, landing in the rain mixed blood that was draining through the cracks. The rain steadily fell on her and the wind whistled in her ears, but she could hear or feel none of it in her death.

 

The kids whistled in Olivia's ears and poured water onto her face as she lay on the table. Their snickering had pulled Olivia back to consciousness and she pressed her fingers against her face and felt the cool liquid falling down her cheek. She peeled her eyelids back and saw Sam, her eyes lit ablaze with curiosity as they bore deep into Olivia. She wasn't fazed by the childlike antics of her peers; she was only focused on Olivia who had awakened from her slumber in tears. Olivia lifted her head and it fell into her hand, throbbing in pain and coursing down her neck. She knew it was just a dream but she couldn't shake the feeling that some of her dream had slipped into reality.

“Olivia?” an authoritative voice called from the head of the make shift classroom. The room was lit by the feverish glow of candles, their tips burning yellow and illuminating portions of their faces. Everyone was seated at the table in the living room with their attention toward their teacher.

“Yes,” she called. Her voice was hoarse.

“Do you need to rest or feed?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, I don't.”

“Then I need you to stay alert in my class,” he reminded her.

“Yes, of course.” She nodded and turned to the notebook under her palm that had the title Human Anatomy scrawled across it in black marker. Sam pushed a cup of powder with a cloying scent of artificial strawberries closer to Olivia, followed by a cup of water. She looked from the materials at her side to the items in the middle of the table. Carefully excavated skeletons of both wild and domestic carnivorous animals sat between her and the peers across from her. “What are we doing?” she asked, leaning toward Sam.

“Making impressions.”

Olivia's eyes flickered from Sam's to the skeletons and then to the images projected on the living room wall. She had forgotten that today had been the day they were to make stone replicas of animal teeth and shook her head at her forgetfulness. Sam's father, Dr. Wilkinson, pointed to the images as they slid across the wall like a PowerPoint slide. Each image gave a detailed explanation of what to do to make the substance. “Now break off in pairs, one person go to the station to mix the mold and the other prep the teeth.”

“Do you wanna mix? I'll prep the teeth,” Sam suggested. Olivia nodded and broke away from the group of students with two cups in hand. In the kitchen sat a table, a working refrigerator and cabinets stuffed with ceramic plates and food items which was an amazing thing for a family who didn't eat normal food. It was a required thing in the colony, to give off the impression that they ate human food if they were ever to be searched. She stood at the granite counter top while other students shuffled behind her and formed a single file line as they waited for her to finish mixing.

“Any day now Olivia,” a random voice called out from behind.

“Don't fall asleep again, please!” another chimed in.

Olivia reserved their ignorant comments for the deepest and darkest hole in her head, exiling their words to the never space she had made just for them. As they continued to jest, she continued to stir, now oblivious to the sounds that were coming from behind her. She was caught off guard when she turned around and saw the snickering boys had parted to the side leaving a five foot nine boy with raven curls abound and green eyes, towering over her. There was an uncontrollable amount of glee beaming from his eyes as he smiled and as infectious as it was, it took over. She smiled back at him then pulled her lips back down as sounds of mockery came from beside them as if someone had shut off her internal mute button. The boy shot the two a warning glare then turned back to Olivia, playfully snatching her cup of alginate and walking to the table. She followed him and found him sitting in her seat and with as little strength as she had, she tried to push him out of the chair but he was planted firmly in it.

“Excuse me Mr. Anderson, where have you been for the last half hour of my class?” Dr. Wilkinson questioned, slightly annoyed.

Noah squirmed in the chair, trying to force down his amusement, “Oh, I...was with my mom. You can,” he said, stifling the laughter as Olivia's bony fingers tried to lift him up from underneath his armpits. “You can ask her.”

“I will. Now find your own seat.”

Noah looked down the table and saw an empty chair beside Sam. She stared at him, firmly prepared to turn down his request until he stuck his bottom lip out and clasped his hands together. Olivia didn't take note of the non verbal transaction going on before her until Noah pulled her into the newly vacant chair between him and Sam. She looked at Sam who shrugged her shoulders and put her elbows to the table in boredom.

Olivia turned back to Noah somewhat annoyed but she didn't show it. She didn't mind sitting next to him and at this particular moment, she had hoped he would've walked in sooner so she could have shared with him what was weighing so heavily on her mind. Her contemplative expression took Noah by surprise as he turned to her. Her eyes were fixated on his shirt which was nothing in particular, just a slim fitting white t-shirt with a design of a bleeding heart embroidered with red sequins. She was suddenly withdrawn from the present as her eyes focused on the shirt and the sounds of her classmates began to fade away.

She could faintly hear Noah's voice and felt the unmistakable warmth radiating from his palms as his hand clasped over hers. His hand, so warm, felt like it was cloaked in the heat of the sun's rays against her cold skin and in her eyes, speckles of orange and yellow danced around her. She basked in its incredible warmth and looked down at her usually white arm now a warm tan. She watched as the colors on her arms shifted and pools of red created ripples on her forearm. The blood underneath her skin flowed through her like a stream of liquid fire, making her wince as the pain slowly began to register with her. Bubbles had formed over the ripples of bloody skin and tears began to well in her eyes as flames spread out over her arms.

“Olivia...” Noah's sing-song voice drifted into her subconscious, awakening her.

She took her eyes off of his shirt and looked into his. “Hm?” She put her hand up to her head and shook it fiercely. “I must have drifted off again.”

“Drifted off? Your eyes were still open but you were completely unfazed. It was really weird.”

“How long....was I like that?”

“Only a minute,” Sam answered.

“I see.”

Noah leaned in and whispered, “Have you been having those dreams again?”

She nodded her head as she turned to the task in front of her, filling the trays with the alginate and grabbing the skull of a fox. She put it to the skull and made the impressions of it's upper row and then the bottom. “But I was not dreaming this time.” She rose from her seat but stopped as Sam took the trays from her and motioned to the kitchen sink. She sat back down after murmuring a 'thanks' and turned inward to Noah, her lips pulled in and hesitant to tell.

Taking note of her expression, he sat up straight but looked at her with a casual and relaxed expression. “How did I die this time?”

Olivia looked away. “I do not want to say.”

He leaned in closer to her. “Come on, it's my death. I—”

“For goodness sake! Noah, Olivia, come to the front!” Dr. Wilkinson shouted over the student chatter. Olivia was the first to rise, walking to the front of the table with Noah following closely behind. Dr. Wilkinson met the two with his arms folded over his chest, a caricature of an intimidating man. As the others in the colony, his body was cold from the lack of exposure to the sun and his skin pale for the same reason. His ginger mane fell past his shoulders and his scruffy beard, wild and untamed, rivaled even the worst of unkempt beards. Not an ounce of fat hung from his arms as he unfolded them and pointed to the students working diligently at the table. “Everyone's talking, but at least they're talking about the work.” he said, stressing each word in a staccato manner. He tugged at his beard with apparent annoyance on his face as Noah opened his mouth.

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