— Gerald Durnhart, “The Hunter’s Guide to the Elixars and Oils”, page 2
"Come."
"Find."
"Me."
They aren’t words that Emily hears, but instead feels.
A man’s voice is distant thunder, booming and violent, rolling over her as the candle sputters. The others laugh.
Chirping birds.
Shrieking insects.
Emily’s hands are empty.
“Try again.” His face was slipping like melting wax in the sun.
She reaches for the spell, but it dodges her fingertips, retreating into the flickering candlelight.
The ink on her paper drips down.
“Lost cause.”
Emily walks away into the grassy meadow.
Closer.
The road ahead passes through a large, ornate gateway, framed with stone pillars, and swirling metallic filigree that forms elegant patterns resembling blooming flowers and twisting roots.
“Hopeless.”
The stone is soft like grass beneath her feet.
Closer.
The sky is too close, pressing down like a great glass pane, and the water below does not move. Her reflection in it is wrong, too many eyes, or maybe not enough. The bridge is smooth. Limestone. Crests are etched into the stone. Fancy railings.
She walks under it.
“A waste of my time.”
The arch is impossibly tall, and black like obsidian. Two massive doors, but no wall. They stand slightly ajar. The gap between them reveals only darkness.
She pushes, and suddenly, she is inside.
The stairs never end. She walks. The fossil rests in a shallow pool of golden dust, six-fingered, reaching.
It smells like burning bacon.
“Emily!”
She kneels. She is back at her desk. The candle still flickers. The ink is still on the page. The voice drones on, the laughter swarms like locusts. But her hands… they remember.
There is dust beneath her fingernails.
Emily woke and grimaced at the pain in her gut.
She coughed slightly, opening her eyes. She rested on something far too comfortable, with a far too comfortable blanket cocooned around her. It was both unnatural and familiar. Emily wanted to sink into it and close her eyes, but her nose wouldn’t let her.
Burning bacon.
Emily wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t just overcooked; it was scorched, bitter with the scent of charred meat and hot metal. She turned her head slightly, but the stiffness in her neck made it difficult.
The cocoon unfurled as she shifted, and her damp skin was met with a refreshing wave of cool air. She forced herself upright, but the pain in her stomach stopped her. She gasped, nearly collapsing back onto the cushions. She pulled at the blanket and was immediately blinded by daylight.
Emily shielded her eyes with her hands. They felt stiff, like they were wrapped up in bandages. When her vision adjusted, she saw that was exactly the case. Both her hands had been tightly wrapped in gauze. It was strange though. They didn’t hurt.
She tried turning her head again to see where she was and wobbled as her vision wavered. It took a moment, but the haze washed away, and she found herself on a dark couch with stiff upholstery. There was a fireplace beside her and a coffee table across from her. It was covered with stacked books, glass bottles, and gun parts, as well as her father’s pocketwatch and chain. There was an open entryway that led to an adjacent room fitted with all manner of weapons. Swords, knives, and firearms of all makes and models were mounted like trophies.
Across the living room, in a modest but well-kept kitchen, was Mina.
She stood over a cast-iron stove, her back to Emily, shoulders tense as she waved a rag at the smoke curling from the pan. She wore a snug long-sleeve tucked into her leather pants. Her snow-white hair was unbraided and spilled down her back like a smooth waterfall.
Emily tried to speak, but all that came out was another dry cough, sharp enough to make her ribs hurt.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Mina turned, her silver eyes catching the sunlight as they locked onto Emily.
In an instant, she was there, pressing a glass of water into Emily’s hands.
Emily curled her fingers around it and nearly dropped it when a sharp sting bolted through her palms. They did hurt after all.
She took a sip. The water stung her teeth but eased the dryness in her throat. She drained the glass in seconds and rasped, “Can I have another?”
Mina took the empty glass without a word and returned moments later with more. Emily drank greedily, letting out a small sigh when she finished.
Mina placed the empty glass on the table and studied her. “How are you feeling?”
“Dead,” she rasped. When she looked back at Mina she seemed… different. The sharp edges of her features were softened by the way the sunlight caught in her snow-white hair. It fell gracefully over her shoulders and shielded her pointed ears. And her eyes… despite Mina’s unwelcoming appearance, they looked comforting. And dangerous.
She was a vampire.
Wait…
Emily was staring at it plain as day, sunlight striking a vampire’s face, and the skin wasn’t melting. Was she really not a vampire after all?
“Does anything hurt?”
Emily swallowed. “Everything.”
“What about your hands?”
She flexed them. “Yeah, them too.”
“Hurt how? Burns? Stings?”
“Burns. I think.”
She nodded again. “Hold still.” Mina sat beside her and started unwrapping the bandages. There was something careful in the way she moved, like someone handling a wounded animal. The linen peeled away, strip by strip, revealing smooth skin beneath. No open wounds. No torn flesh. Just scars. Well, they looked like scars, but they were more so jagged lines, etched like lightning across her palms and winding up her wrists.
Mina reached for a bottle on the table and dabbed the rag sitting next to it. When the damp cloth pressed against Emily’s palm, she flinched, whimpering through gritted teeth.
“Shit!” she groaned. “Yeah. Yeah, now it stings.”
“Breathe. This’ll help with the pain.”
Emily hissed. “No, it isn’t!”
“Give it time.” Once both hands were clean and inspected, Mina set the medical supplies back onto the table, and helped Emily sit up. She lifted her shirt and began undoing the bandages that were binding her torso. Beneath them, her skin was mottled in yellow and purple splotches, a mess of healing cuts, and other tender bruises. Their was an ointment against her skin that chilled her when it was exposed to the cool air.
“The bruising is going down,” Mina said, pressing her hand against Emily’s chest, the touch startling her.
Emily glanced down. Mina’s sleeve had shifted back. Beneath the fabric, her wrist was bandaged.
“Heart rate’s still a little fast,” Mina said, pulling back.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Mina hesitated. “It’s a miracle it’s beating at all.”
A sense of dread settled in.
“How long had it been since you ate?” Mina then asked.
Emily tried to think, but everything was still a little hazy. “I had some bread last night.”
Mina was quiet for a moment. “‘Last night’ was a week ago.”
Emily blinked. The words didn’t register at first, but when they did, they hit like a gut punch. “What?”
Mina nodded. “You’ve been sleeping the entire time.”
A week.
Emily’s heart thumped against her chest. “I’ve been asleep for a week?” she murmured.
Mina nodded again.
Emily couldn’t help but scoff. “Then why am I still tired?”
“Because your body needs nutrients.” Mina rose, heading toward the kitchen. “I’ve been able to get small amounts of broth and water into you, but it’s not enough. You need real food.”
Emily’s stomach twisted. Food didn’t sound bad. It should have sounded good. But with the way her gut ached, she wasn’t sure if she could keep anything down. She pressed a hand to her ribs, waiting for the pain to ease. Why did it have to hurt so much? She just wanted the pain to stop. All of it: the aching in her legs, the burning in her hands, the soreness of her stomach, and the pounding in her head.
Mina returned with a plate. Charred bacon, overcooked eggs. A banana. Another glass of water.
“Chew slowly,” she instructed, handing it to her. “I know you’re starving, but your stomach isn’t ready for much.”
“This is food?”
Mina reached to take the plate back.
“N-No!” Emily pulled it away. “It’s fine. Thank you.”
“I’m not the best cook.”
‘I can tell,’ Emily thought to herself. Back when her mother had cooked for her, she would’ve turned her nose up at something like this. But that was before. Before the cold, sleepless nights. Before the pain. Before the river and the man in black and the fire burning through her veins. Circumstances were different now. Her stomach yearned for anything she could get, even if it felt like eating something would cause her to implode.
The bacon crunched between her teeth like gravel. Emily shuddered but chewed it anyway.
Emily ate in silence for a bit while Mina watched over her. It gave her time to try and organize her muddled memories. The cold river, the woman with snow-white hair, the man in black, and the agony that racked her body. It was all so much, and now she was just here. A house. A well-decorated one at that. The air didn’t smell like ash and the cold wasn’t nipping at her skin. She was on a couch, being nursed by a vampire. Even though she had saved her, and now fed her, there was some feeling in the back of Emily’s mind that she couldn’t shake. She couldn’t figure out what it was either. She had every reason to trust this woman, and yet, she didn’t.
“Do you remember what happened?” Mina eventually asked.
Emily swallowed. “Hm?”
“How much do you remember?”
Emily hesitated. “Only thing I don’t remember is how I got here… or where ‘here’ is.”
“Cresthill Valley.” Mina leaned back, crossing her legs. “We’re about as far from Peccatum as you can get. Doubt most people in that city have even heard of this place.”
“Guess I’m most people then,” Emily muttered.
“You’re not most people. You’ll be safe here. For now.”
“Safe from vampires?” she said after a pause.
Mina held her gaze.
Emily waited for an answer.
“I can’t help what I am. All I can give you is my word. And I promise you, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
Emily glanced around the house. It certainly didn’t seem like the kind of place a vampire would live. “You said you knew my parents?”
Mina stared compassionately at her. “They’re not here.”
“But… they’re alive?”
“As far as I know. I found them in Pillio’s Watch after the attack. They had been turned into vampires.”
“What?” Emily shot up, wincing.
“They’re alright,” Mina said reassuringly. “They hadn’t turned into monsters. They wanted to find you, to keep you safe, but it was too dangerous for them.”
“Then, where are they?”
“I don’t know. They went to spy on that vampire that attacked us. He’s hiding somewhere in Peccatum, I just don’t know where.”
“They’re spying on him?”
“To keep you safe. If that vampire were to capture you, they were going to free you.”
Emily’s eyes slowly drifted away. She glanced down at herself, a tightness building in her chest. For months she had thought her parents were dead, burned alive in a fire that was her causing. But they were alive. Alive and turned into monsters. It wouldn’t have happened if the vampire had never shown up. He was there for her. “Then… this was all my fault…” Emily mumbled.
“No, it’s not,” Mina said reassuringly. “Nothing that happened was because of anything you did.”
“Then why did they do it? They’re looking for me, right? Why?”
Another pause. Then, Mina sighed. “Do you know what a Conduit is?”
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED TODAY'S CHAPTER!
Please leave a comment!
- Any theories on what might happen next?
- What do you want to see more of?
- Wanna go on a typo hunt? (You’ll find something, I promise)
Follow the story to stay updated.
Favorite it if you enjoy the journey.
Craving more right now? Join my and help support the story!
- Read 8 chapters ahead!
- Bonus & cut content!
- Behind-the-scenes stuff ;)