lost
Posted: 31 Dec 2016, 03:16
“I think you should tell him, Castalia.”
Her father had said the words a few times that evening, even after she had said that it wouldn't be a good idea. Yet, there she stood on the corner of her old street down the road from where she had met Kika. What should have been a welcoming sight of familiarity only brought dread to the allurist. The only reason she had agreed to the suggestion was that her children were away for the holiday, visiting Nolan's parents and his new wife… well, she was with them. Once, it would have pleased her to hear that Sarah was miserable, but now?
Now, it only made her weary.
It would be easy to fall into habit, to apologize and forgive Nolan for everything. To restart their marriage, to fall back in love. Perhaps that was why Castalia hadn’t stepped off the curb and continued down the street. Perhaps it was the fact she had a new life with new people that mattered to her. Or, perhaps it was because she knew deep down as she listened to the heartbeats and murmurs of her old neighborhood that she could never go back to the way things were. She didn’t belong there, not any more. But, even as she accepted that realization, Castalia didn't turn away.
She could only frown.
“Something doesn't feel right…”
The murmur barely left her lips as Rhys glanced in her direction. He had come along for moral support, even if he didn't make her entirely comfortable. If anything, the way the man kept snapping his gum set Castalia entirely on edge. “I know you ain’t a psychic, Miss Match, so what do you mean?” At the reference to her two unmatching eyes, hidden beneath a pair of lavender contacts for the evening, Castalia shot her thrall a glare before she looked back over the street. Christmas lights hung off every house and along quite a few of the bushes. It was peaceful and pretty with how the colors even reflected off of the pristine, powder snow that covered the lawns.
Already, a snow plow had passed and created paths on the icy roads. She could see barely there foot prints in the frost of the shoveled sidewalks on either side of the road. Without responding to Rhys, Castalia stepped off of the curb and began to walk towards a mild, bittersweet smell that accompanied the scent of burning wood hanging in the air. Beneath it, she could smell something else. Something inviting, warm. It caused her mouth to water as she drew near, unaware that she knew what it could be. At the top of the street, however, Castalia paused and suddenly knew what was so wrong about the smell. Burning wood and gunpowder.
“Cast!”
Rhys shouted out her name as she took off in a run, the sudden crack of a gunshot splitting through the still night air. It couldn't have come from the house, could it? She knew it came from the direction. Behind her as her boots crunched on the ice, she could hear Rhys cursing as he tried to race after her. It was likely made difficult due to the fact he had worn his favorite pair of loafers, which had worn traction. Turning a corner sharply, the allurist slid on a patch of ice and grunted as she recovered while her hip bumped into Nolan's old, stupid black Ford truck that always sat in the same parking spot, day in and day out. It had been a high school graduation present that had broken down after Judith was born, and had never been repaired.
Not too far away, Rhys shouted for her to stay put just before his left foot went out from underneath him. Castalia grimaced as her thrall crashed down onto his back. If it had been any other time, well, she would have likely found the incident amusing. Ignoring the man, she waited for him to get back to his knees before walking towards the house - her attention sliding over the front of it for any tell tale and… there it was. The front door stood ajar and mixed with the bitter scent of gunpowder, a sweet metallic aroma hovered just under what she knew to be an apple cinnamon candle that was lit every night. Her hand went to where she kept a simple hunting knife beneath the waistband of her coat as she walked carefully beside the Nissan her ex-husband had purchased two years ago.
Although she hadn’t been to the house in months, it looked almost exactly the same. A modern three bedroom, two bathroom it wasn't anything special. The couple had purchased it shortly after Castalia had Nolan Jr., and when they had separated, it had been given to Nolan, who had them most of the time due to her former career as an ER Nurse. Once upon a time, there had been talk about moving into a bigger house, having more children and Nolan had teased Castalia when she talked about gardening, growing some flowers and vegetables in the yard. But, it had been during a happier time, before things went to ****. Back then, the house had been a light blue, with dark blue shutters. Now, it was an off white and had a dark green trim - Sarah’s idea, likely. Nolan had liked the blue, but she had wanted to paint it a light yellow.
Behind her, she heard Rhys call out her name as she reached out her fingertips to touch the door. Inside, she could hear a pulse racing. The smell of blood grew stronger there and her stomach twisted in fear at what she could find. “Cast wait.” Rhys didn’t say the words fast enough as she pushed the door open while lifting her knife to a defensive position. The smell hit her like a freight train, rolling over her and seeming to stick to her clothes. Gunpowder, blood. She didn’t have to make it fully into the house to recognize the bunny slippers that Judy had bought her father for Christmas.
Nolan sat in the living room against a wall, his hand pressed to his bloody abdomen. His breathing was growing ragged, his pulse beginning to slow. It looked as if he had been standing when shot, a smear of blood running down the pale green wall behind him where he had slid. In her shock, Castalia's knife fell from her hand, the sight itself a slap in the face as tears she didn't know she was still able to form began to blur her vision. The handle of the knife hit the ground with a soft thud, the carpet causing it to bounce and at the noise, she watched Nolan’s head lift just slightly.
His eyes opened and he looked in her direction, a small smile playing across his lips. “Must be dead, I’m seeing an angel already.” The statement had her glaring at him, but she didn't move, frozen to the spot. She could smell his blood, and damn did he smell delicious. And he was an easy meal… she was disgusted by her own thoughts as she heard a thud behind her. “Oh ****.” Rhys muttered, seeing the confusion on Nolan’s face at the strange man in his house. When Castalia finally did move forward, he didn't stop her. She grimaced as she moved closer, the desire to taste his blood only being smothered due to the fact it was Nolan of all people. He watched her as she knelt down, her hand moving to rest over his side.
“It’s good to see you, Talia.” He murmured as she tried to look for any other wounds. There was an entrance wound and… ah, an exit wound. It took her a moment to find it, but the amount of blood that Nolan was sitting in couldn't have only come from the hole in his stomach. His dark hair fell over his face, just slightly in his eyes - blue green, central heterochromia. The same, but different than hers. In the light from the lamp across the room, his skin looked so pale. He didn't look alright, and she looked towards Rhys. “Call an ambulance, now.” But to her side, Nolan chuckled. He knew it was going to be too late, she knew it was going to be too late before they got there.
“You just had to get yourself shot.” Her voice cracked as she looked into his eyes, ignoring his sentiment about seeing her. Tears fell down her cheeks, her fear mounting as he closed his eyes and tilted his head down. “Nolan?” Her voice pitched and his eye cracked open as she pressed her hand more against his abdomen. “I’m not dead yet, woman.” Her lip trembled. She looked at her wrist and then as Rhys came back into the house with his cell phone in hand, he lifted an eyebrow at her. “Would that save him…?” The thought was lost as Nolan slumped over, his pulse beginning to race faster.
And just like that… Castalia blanked on her medical training. She couldn’t remember to elevate his legs, to stop the bleeding. Her panic rose as his shock kicked in and instinctively, her wrist rose to her mouth as her fangs slid into view. “Castalia…” Rhys’ voice was soft as she bit into her flesh, tearing open the skin. Pain radiated from her action, the vile taste of her own blood mixing with the sweetness of Nolan’s in her mouth as she pulled the man closer to her body. The warmth from the exit wound seeped into her blouse, her actions frantic as Rhys watched her try to pour her blood into her exes’ mouth.
As she tried to turn and save him.
She tried well after his heart stopped beating.
Rhys was the first one to notice that Nolan was no longer breathing. And as he watched Castalia finally lower her wrist away from his mouth, he was afraid to move close to her as he watched her shoulders flinch violently. He thought she was going to scream, to attack him, but as she moved her face to press into the pale man’s neck, the last sound Rhys expected to hear out of Castalia was a loud sob. In the year he had known her, he had never known the woman to cry. To rage, to scream, and even to flip a table before, she had never cried that he knew of. And he knew that her sire had taken her own life, something he had expected to see some strong emotion from, but instead, she had grown quiet.
And as he stood there awkwardly, Rhys almost preferred the raging Castalia who sent a swarm of bees after him one evening when he had called her shoes ugly. He looked towards the woman with her now dead ex and then frowned at the door. He had told her to wait. The gunshot hadn’t been a good sign, but did she listen? There was a twinge of guilt in his heart as he heard another loud, heartwrenching sob from Castalia. He knew she had still loved Nolan, even when she didn't like to talk about him or her children. He lifted his hand to wipe away underneath his eyes before he wondered if he should call her father… “Bad idea, Rhys.” He could have slapped himself as he wondered what her childe was doing. Should he call Cedric? Another sob had him cringe. “Cast would murder me.” He inwardly sighed.
Weary and afraid of her, Rhys moved over to Castalia and could see her shaking, and it bothered him that it was obvious she was trying not to draw attention to herself. The way she clung to the body of her first love… in the distance, he could hear the sound of sirens and he knelt down to rest his knees against the woman’s back. He slipped his hands underneath her armpits, carefully trying to get her free. He expected a struggle, hoped for a struggle, but without any resistance, Castalia got to her feet with her thralls aid. Blood, hers and his, covered her arms, her shirt and as she had tears rolling down her cheeks, he didn't know what to do. She was never that complacent.
“We need to go, Cast.”
He finally said when another siren went off in the distance. They had maybe five, ten minutes… She must have been done crying, because when she nodded, Rhys heard her mumble “okay” under her breath. She sounded defeated, she looked broken, and as he looked over the room, he didn't see anything that could reconnect them back to the scene except… as they walked out, Rhys knelt down and picked up Castalia's knife. “I’m sorry, Nolan.” He muttered, wrapping his arm carefully around the oddly silent brunette as they left the door open before he led her towards the sewers.
Her thrall set his hand on the small of her back, a frown playing across his lips. He didn’t know what to say to her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it better, either. “Come one, let’s get you home. Cedric’s probably already there wondering where the hell you are.” The words normally would have gotten a smirk from the woman, or at least an elbow, but as Castalia seemed too lost, he didn’t know what to do.
He had never seen her out of sorts.
Her father had said the words a few times that evening, even after she had said that it wouldn't be a good idea. Yet, there she stood on the corner of her old street down the road from where she had met Kika. What should have been a welcoming sight of familiarity only brought dread to the allurist. The only reason she had agreed to the suggestion was that her children were away for the holiday, visiting Nolan's parents and his new wife… well, she was with them. Once, it would have pleased her to hear that Sarah was miserable, but now?
Now, it only made her weary.
It would be easy to fall into habit, to apologize and forgive Nolan for everything. To restart their marriage, to fall back in love. Perhaps that was why Castalia hadn’t stepped off the curb and continued down the street. Perhaps it was the fact she had a new life with new people that mattered to her. Or, perhaps it was because she knew deep down as she listened to the heartbeats and murmurs of her old neighborhood that she could never go back to the way things were. She didn’t belong there, not any more. But, even as she accepted that realization, Castalia didn't turn away.
She could only frown.
“Something doesn't feel right…”
The murmur barely left her lips as Rhys glanced in her direction. He had come along for moral support, even if he didn't make her entirely comfortable. If anything, the way the man kept snapping his gum set Castalia entirely on edge. “I know you ain’t a psychic, Miss Match, so what do you mean?” At the reference to her two unmatching eyes, hidden beneath a pair of lavender contacts for the evening, Castalia shot her thrall a glare before she looked back over the street. Christmas lights hung off every house and along quite a few of the bushes. It was peaceful and pretty with how the colors even reflected off of the pristine, powder snow that covered the lawns.
Already, a snow plow had passed and created paths on the icy roads. She could see barely there foot prints in the frost of the shoveled sidewalks on either side of the road. Without responding to Rhys, Castalia stepped off of the curb and began to walk towards a mild, bittersweet smell that accompanied the scent of burning wood hanging in the air. Beneath it, she could smell something else. Something inviting, warm. It caused her mouth to water as she drew near, unaware that she knew what it could be. At the top of the street, however, Castalia paused and suddenly knew what was so wrong about the smell. Burning wood and gunpowder.
“Cast!”
Rhys shouted out her name as she took off in a run, the sudden crack of a gunshot splitting through the still night air. It couldn't have come from the house, could it? She knew it came from the direction. Behind her as her boots crunched on the ice, she could hear Rhys cursing as he tried to race after her. It was likely made difficult due to the fact he had worn his favorite pair of loafers, which had worn traction. Turning a corner sharply, the allurist slid on a patch of ice and grunted as she recovered while her hip bumped into Nolan's old, stupid black Ford truck that always sat in the same parking spot, day in and day out. It had been a high school graduation present that had broken down after Judith was born, and had never been repaired.
Not too far away, Rhys shouted for her to stay put just before his left foot went out from underneath him. Castalia grimaced as her thrall crashed down onto his back. If it had been any other time, well, she would have likely found the incident amusing. Ignoring the man, she waited for him to get back to his knees before walking towards the house - her attention sliding over the front of it for any tell tale and… there it was. The front door stood ajar and mixed with the bitter scent of gunpowder, a sweet metallic aroma hovered just under what she knew to be an apple cinnamon candle that was lit every night. Her hand went to where she kept a simple hunting knife beneath the waistband of her coat as she walked carefully beside the Nissan her ex-husband had purchased two years ago.
Although she hadn’t been to the house in months, it looked almost exactly the same. A modern three bedroom, two bathroom it wasn't anything special. The couple had purchased it shortly after Castalia had Nolan Jr., and when they had separated, it had been given to Nolan, who had them most of the time due to her former career as an ER Nurse. Once upon a time, there had been talk about moving into a bigger house, having more children and Nolan had teased Castalia when she talked about gardening, growing some flowers and vegetables in the yard. But, it had been during a happier time, before things went to ****. Back then, the house had been a light blue, with dark blue shutters. Now, it was an off white and had a dark green trim - Sarah’s idea, likely. Nolan had liked the blue, but she had wanted to paint it a light yellow.
Behind her, she heard Rhys call out her name as she reached out her fingertips to touch the door. Inside, she could hear a pulse racing. The smell of blood grew stronger there and her stomach twisted in fear at what she could find. “Cast wait.” Rhys didn’t say the words fast enough as she pushed the door open while lifting her knife to a defensive position. The smell hit her like a freight train, rolling over her and seeming to stick to her clothes. Gunpowder, blood. She didn’t have to make it fully into the house to recognize the bunny slippers that Judy had bought her father for Christmas.
Nolan sat in the living room against a wall, his hand pressed to his bloody abdomen. His breathing was growing ragged, his pulse beginning to slow. It looked as if he had been standing when shot, a smear of blood running down the pale green wall behind him where he had slid. In her shock, Castalia's knife fell from her hand, the sight itself a slap in the face as tears she didn't know she was still able to form began to blur her vision. The handle of the knife hit the ground with a soft thud, the carpet causing it to bounce and at the noise, she watched Nolan’s head lift just slightly.
His eyes opened and he looked in her direction, a small smile playing across his lips. “Must be dead, I’m seeing an angel already.” The statement had her glaring at him, but she didn't move, frozen to the spot. She could smell his blood, and damn did he smell delicious. And he was an easy meal… she was disgusted by her own thoughts as she heard a thud behind her. “Oh ****.” Rhys muttered, seeing the confusion on Nolan’s face at the strange man in his house. When Castalia finally did move forward, he didn't stop her. She grimaced as she moved closer, the desire to taste his blood only being smothered due to the fact it was Nolan of all people. He watched her as she knelt down, her hand moving to rest over his side.
“It’s good to see you, Talia.” He murmured as she tried to look for any other wounds. There was an entrance wound and… ah, an exit wound. It took her a moment to find it, but the amount of blood that Nolan was sitting in couldn't have only come from the hole in his stomach. His dark hair fell over his face, just slightly in his eyes - blue green, central heterochromia. The same, but different than hers. In the light from the lamp across the room, his skin looked so pale. He didn't look alright, and she looked towards Rhys. “Call an ambulance, now.” But to her side, Nolan chuckled. He knew it was going to be too late, she knew it was going to be too late before they got there.
“You just had to get yourself shot.” Her voice cracked as she looked into his eyes, ignoring his sentiment about seeing her. Tears fell down her cheeks, her fear mounting as he closed his eyes and tilted his head down. “Nolan?” Her voice pitched and his eye cracked open as she pressed her hand more against his abdomen. “I’m not dead yet, woman.” Her lip trembled. She looked at her wrist and then as Rhys came back into the house with his cell phone in hand, he lifted an eyebrow at her. “Would that save him…?” The thought was lost as Nolan slumped over, his pulse beginning to race faster.
And just like that… Castalia blanked on her medical training. She couldn’t remember to elevate his legs, to stop the bleeding. Her panic rose as his shock kicked in and instinctively, her wrist rose to her mouth as her fangs slid into view. “Castalia…” Rhys’ voice was soft as she bit into her flesh, tearing open the skin. Pain radiated from her action, the vile taste of her own blood mixing with the sweetness of Nolan’s in her mouth as she pulled the man closer to her body. The warmth from the exit wound seeped into her blouse, her actions frantic as Rhys watched her try to pour her blood into her exes’ mouth.
As she tried to turn and save him.
She tried well after his heart stopped beating.
Rhys was the first one to notice that Nolan was no longer breathing. And as he watched Castalia finally lower her wrist away from his mouth, he was afraid to move close to her as he watched her shoulders flinch violently. He thought she was going to scream, to attack him, but as she moved her face to press into the pale man’s neck, the last sound Rhys expected to hear out of Castalia was a loud sob. In the year he had known her, he had never known the woman to cry. To rage, to scream, and even to flip a table before, she had never cried that he knew of. And he knew that her sire had taken her own life, something he had expected to see some strong emotion from, but instead, she had grown quiet.
And as he stood there awkwardly, Rhys almost preferred the raging Castalia who sent a swarm of bees after him one evening when he had called her shoes ugly. He looked towards the woman with her now dead ex and then frowned at the door. He had told her to wait. The gunshot hadn’t been a good sign, but did she listen? There was a twinge of guilt in his heart as he heard another loud, heartwrenching sob from Castalia. He knew she had still loved Nolan, even when she didn't like to talk about him or her children. He lifted his hand to wipe away underneath his eyes before he wondered if he should call her father… “Bad idea, Rhys.” He could have slapped himself as he wondered what her childe was doing. Should he call Cedric? Another sob had him cringe. “Cast would murder me.” He inwardly sighed.
Weary and afraid of her, Rhys moved over to Castalia and could see her shaking, and it bothered him that it was obvious she was trying not to draw attention to herself. The way she clung to the body of her first love… in the distance, he could hear the sound of sirens and he knelt down to rest his knees against the woman’s back. He slipped his hands underneath her armpits, carefully trying to get her free. He expected a struggle, hoped for a struggle, but without any resistance, Castalia got to her feet with her thralls aid. Blood, hers and his, covered her arms, her shirt and as she had tears rolling down her cheeks, he didn't know what to do. She was never that complacent.
“We need to go, Cast.”
He finally said when another siren went off in the distance. They had maybe five, ten minutes… She must have been done crying, because when she nodded, Rhys heard her mumble “okay” under her breath. She sounded defeated, she looked broken, and as he looked over the room, he didn't see anything that could reconnect them back to the scene except… as they walked out, Rhys knelt down and picked up Castalia's knife. “I’m sorry, Nolan.” He muttered, wrapping his arm carefully around the oddly silent brunette as they left the door open before he led her towards the sewers.
Her thrall set his hand on the small of her back, a frown playing across his lips. He didn’t know what to say to her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it better, either. “Come one, let’s get you home. Cedric’s probably already there wondering where the hell you are.” The words normally would have gotten a smirk from the woman, or at least an elbow, but as Castalia seemed too lost, he didn’t know what to do.
He had never seen her out of sorts.