A/N: So, like Vacation, this is part of the 100 Theme Challenge. Also, like Vacation, it contains characters from my Realm of Shadows universe. (Also seen in Precious Treasure and Die, Die My Darling to name two, if you want to check them out) So, this takes place after the events of the main novel - in this, Shadow (the main character), has just been attacked by one of the vampires; in an attempt to save her, Poison tries to turn her. Things go wrong. Enjoy, and as always would love to hear your thoughts.
I didn't think it would hurt this much. It tears through me like knife, cutting from shoulder blade down to my hip, a diagonal slash that leaves a gaping wound. A scream rips through me, and suddenly Poison is at my side, his hand on my shoulder, whispering words to me, telling me it's OK that I'll be fine that I can make it through this pain.
Underlying all this is one thought that pops up in my head time and time again; Don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out.
His arms cradle me, a drumming in my head, filling every inch of my mind. I can't get rid of it, can't stop it, and I know it's my own heart, speeding up and getting ready to burst.
Then, it stops. The pain disappears for a brief second, and in that short amount of time I manage to absorb certain pieces of information.
My heart has stopped. It is remains in my chest, still and calm. I glance at my wrist, placing two fingers of my left hand over my right wrist. Nothing. Wearily, I draw my eyes to Poison. His eyes are a strange swirl of blue and green, not dissimilar to the water we travelled across on our way here. In this Crypt, in New York, far away from the place I once considered home, I register something else.
Raven isn't here.
Then it bursts forth and I can't help it; I scream again.
Poison's eyes widen in fear and worry, flashing from sea colour to a deep purple. He's scared, and I know something has gone wrong because I can feel it. The thump-da-thump-da-thump of my heartbeat. My hands clasp the sleeves at the top of his shirt, grasping on to him. My head hurts, my chest hurts, my legs ache like a bitch and I can do nothing but weep.
His voice, whispering still to me, reminding me constantly that he is here, my protector, my saviour, my knight in un-dead armour.
I croak out a few words, and he mutters that he knows, he knows...
But he doesn't know, because he can't remember what happened to him. He just woke up one day, with a strange girl yelling at him, telling him not to drink the vial he was holding; one word over and over, poison. At the time he didn't know what it meant and he assumed it to be his name.
He doesn't know all of this; not yet, I don't think. But yeah, Poison got hit with amnesia and all he can remember is his life as a vampire; he knew he wasn't long turned when he forgot everything, because he didn't know the instincts that once you learn you don't forget; hunting, feeding, survival. This he does know. This he has told me himself.
But he has seen others change, he has witnessed this happening before, so he must know how it goes.
Something is wrong.
He doesn't mean for me to hear, but I do. It sounds like a soft whisper carried on the wind, spoken for no one to hear except himself. It feels almost as an echo of my own thoughts, and as his eyes lock on mine I know I have, at least, partly turned.
The sound of a horses' agitated braying carries down the tunnels into this part of the Crypt. Blood is up there, Blood who has made it across the Atlantic, almost drowning on the way. Blood who is not a normal horse. The only animal who doesn't flinch away from mind-readers and vampires.
A boy died because he thought his horse was dead.
A strange feeling comes along with all this pain; a weird sense of power as I hold onto Poison. My body shudders as I gasp, wishing the itching burning feeling across my skin, seeming to be more intense around my left eye, would stop.
I question him on what is happening to me, my nails still clutching his shirt, his arms protectively holding me. Don't let me die. It comes out a strangled cry.
I won't. I won't. I won't.
He is weeping, tears forming in his ever changing eyes, light red as blood and water mix.
I feel my body rising as he lifts me from the ground, I clutch tighter than ever to him, tears staining his shirt...not his, but mine, though you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Speckles of red rest on his shirt, and as we leave the Crypt my eyes spot them. My vision is blurry with pain, yet I see sharper than I ever have before. Doesn't make sense, does it?
Trust me, it doesn't to me either.
In the shadows cast by the trees, I could see a green Mohican, each individual spike rising perfectly upwards, connecting to the shaved head of someone who I couldn't quite work out. But, by God was I glad to see him. The studs on his denim jacket glinted in the moonlight as Poison stepped towards him, and suddenly another figure was taking him from me, holding me in her strong arms. Blonde hair tumbled down, brushing against my face.
"Calista..." I breathed the word out slowly, awkwardly still holding onto Poison, forcing him to stand over me. Like a lizard refusing to let go of a rock I held onto him.
Her face showed more fear than I'd ever seen on her calm, collected features.
"Something's gone wrong, hasn't it?" Poison asked. His hands now free from my weight, he placed them gently over my own. Cold skin on cold skin as I let out another scream. Something in his touch triggered even more pain, my heart stopping again.
Then, barely five seconds later I felt it. Thump-da-thump-da-thump.
"Her heart is still beating," Calista shook her head in disbelief, staring wildly at me.
"It keeps stopping."
"No...it can't be..." She muttered, as Blake appeared beside my saviour. Gently he reached out, prising my hands away from Poison. As I stared at him I knew; I wasn't the only one in pain. My feelings were affecting him, as it had in my dreams. He was feeling it; dulled and numb, but it was still there.
The bond between master and fledgling.
Calista lifted her head, still holding me, my hands now grasping onto her dress. "It hasn't gone wrong, it's just...different." She was shaking, and with every motion my body shuddered. "She's a half."