Painful Memories

[Simon Ward]

Nighttime had washed over the land. Things were quiet a still and despite the chill, the air was still. Trees stood tall in a place not far from a town. Shadows were in full swing but they swirled about taking an unseen shape. Eventually the darkness coalesced into something more and out of it fell a man. Black stains ran over his button up top which looked like it had seen a battle. The red piece of clothing had several holes in the chest, one of the arms looked like it was dangling like a piece of hanging flesh off of a corpse. Beneath the torn fabric was signs of a wound the man bore on that same arm.

Heavy breathes and gasps filled the air just before the memories came. He was hiding in an abandoned building, there was a price on his head and he was working on lowering it. Before long, people showed up in droves. Two faces appeared and began the attack. The first two injuries came and the memory of that pain caused him to gasp out. A third man barged in and yet another injury came shortly after. More started to come but the target worked through the pain avoiding the next more by three more faces. Pride swelled through him because he bore wounds yet some were still unable to touch him.

With the memories of triumph running through him the man in the woods slowly stood up for the first time in what felt like forever. His current surroundings were ignored as the images from before still consumed him. He tried taking a step with one leg and a scream left his lips before he fell down again. The memory of a woman putting a nasty wound that still lingered on his leg ran through his mind.

All of the stains coming to his clothes caused his vision to blur but somehow he was moved by someone. The face was familiar and friendly but he was in touch much pain to recall a face. A second later a familiar voice ran through his ears which he knew belonged to someone else, “Anyone else going to touch my son?” It was filled with defiance and an all-consuming desire to protect.

By now people were there to aid him but his vision was going from the blood loose which was evident on his person. Even now as he was on the ground stains riddled the shirt on the front and back as bullets and blades went through.

Another attacker came out of the crowd and laid one into the man. The crowd was staring with wide eyes thinking it was the end. Silence filled the room but unknown to most the injured man was still hanging on by a thread. During that silence was when the final blow came. Metal cut through flesh and muscle and pierced his heart. A scream echoed through the night air one that he was denied of as life was taken from him.
By now the man was on his back, brown locks scattered on the ground and for the first time in days, weeks, months, or even years the familiar moonlight cast down on Simon Ward’s face. Slowly Simon tried to stand again instincts telling him to favor the still injured leg and arm. Familiar smells filled his nose but coming back from the dead was taxing.

Luckily a trained condition for him was to use the darkness while hunting, it made it ten times easier. A group of men saw the darkness come and found one less of them long before it cleared. Crimson smeared Simon’s lips as the first drop of blood in his body filled him. A savored noise escaped his lips while he shuddered in delight.

With his good arm he slid off the tattered shirt and began walking toward Harper Rock.

[Simon Ward]

Darkness surrounded Simon as it felt like his eyes opened, “I’m a still in the shadow realm!” His hands caressed his body as he cried out. “No…not in the realm…,” he paused as realization hit him, “OH GOD I’M BLIND!!!” He tried to shoot up but pained surged through his body as a loud, “Clang!” ran through the air. Another noise was filling the air but he was too panicked to notice. Seconds louder a second “Clang!” filled the room.

His hands gripped his head, “OW!!!” and as the pain surged through him another realization hit, “Pain’s good! It means I’m alive!” he cried out delighted. Then he looked around to see nothing but darkness. Having the realization that he was blind started to sink in, “WHY DO BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO KIND OF GOOD PEOPLE!!” more metal bangs filled the air as he smacked his head on something. That foreign noise continued but was ignored.

The sound of a metal door opening filled the room and Simon felt pulled. A “vrrt,” sound filled the Simon’s ears and light pierced his vision and the second it came in abundance Simon sat up. A scream from someone that was on the other side of the darkness erupted from their throats as Simon was sitting up from inside a body bag that laid on one of the containers used to keep dead bodies at the morgue.

Both of Simon’s eyes scanned the room and he recognized the place, it was the morgue. He looked over at the worker, “Please, you used to work with Kajira. I’m sure you saw worse,” he said and hopped off the metal table. “Tell her I said ‘Hi’ next time you see her,” he winked at the man and spun around the room searching for something. No luck and so he spun again trying then saw the confusion on the worker’s face, “Right. The whole…coming back thing I’m kinda like,” Simon paused and an idea came crashing into his skull, “Jack Harkness. Google or Wiki him if you need to. That’s ‘H-A-R-K-N-E-S-S,’” he spelled it out for the man. “Well…I’m like him but slower. And yes,” he waggled his eyebrows, “Anything that moves,” Simon gave a cheeky grin toward the man and moved about the morgue like he owned it, “I need a calendar. I was in a deep deep deep meditative state of sorts and I need to know when it is,” an inquisitive glance was tossed toward the worker who pointed toward the back wall.

With confident strides Simon looked at the calendar and then sighed as the year read, “2008.” One of his hands held up the chin as Simon was in thought, “Well…it could have been a week, a month, a year, or several of each. First thing first find out the year…Second, find the people I care about. IF I need to fend off suitors from a particular lady then I will have a few lawsuits on my hands since there will be bodies in hopsitals. Third, a bite to eat…,” Simon looked back at the worker who was staring at the returned vampire like he was a crazy figment of the imagination.

“Hey there big boy,” Simon said in a low husky voice and slinked toward the worker, “I did say anything,” there was an emphasis in the word. His arms slithered around the worker and Simon began to whisper before a headbutt was given to the confused worker. Painful cries escaped each of them but the worker slumped over unconscious a moment later while Simon stayed upward holding his head. “I didn’t mean it...The whole anything, thing. Not my thing plus I'd have one angry lady over that decision. Or at least I think she'd be angry...I mean if it's been a decade of slumber she could have moved on. I don't know! Part of the whole waking up thing,” Simon said firmly and then looked at the worker, “Poor guy…Best you just think I was a hallucination from hitting your head. Rest well,” he whispered and then stepped over the worker as if he was just a piece of discarded paper.

The cold night air caressed Simon’s cheek once he made it outside and a shiver ran down his spine. Then the cold started to slink into new spots that felt foreign for him to feel cold. Slowly both of Simon’s eyes went down and the various holes in his clothing stood out. The sight of them trigged the memories of the last time Simon was alive, Cristiana was with him.

The two of them were standing in Cristiana's home, the home few knew Simon bought for her. They were arguing and Cristi was reiterating a statement, "You have but two choices, death to remain my childe or leave, my target."

All of the seriousness in her voice caused Simon to flinch away while still stating his point, "Either way you're taking this anger way too far. You yell at me for crossing lines, what the hell are you doing then?! Even now, death to remain my child or walk and loose you forever...that's crossing lines!"

Earlier Simon had mentioned how angry Cristi was acting and that's when she retorted with something very unexpected, "YOU WANT TO SEE ANGER!" she screamed. Her body began to shift, turn, and change into something truly horrid. Bones snapped and cracked as her body configured to it's new shape.

That made Simon dive for the nearest reflective surface...which was a toaster he brandished toward her, "Look at yourself! Look at what you're doing?! Over what? A joke!!"

Cristiana began to speak in an inhuman voice, "This is built up frustration," she was moving toward Simon striking him while speaking. The toast was swatted away with the utmost ease, "Of all you have done and the many times I have had to cover for you..... I CAN'T ANYMORE...."

Bleeding Simon began to scream back at his mother, "ALL I SAID WAS A GOD DAMNED JOKE AND YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!"

"MY OTHER CHILDER ARE NOT ONE-TENTH THE PROBLEM YOU ARE COMBINED! AND I AM DONE DEFENDING YOU TO EVERYONE ELSE, MY TEMPER HAS REACHED IT'S PEAK AND SPILLED OVER CHILDE..," Cristiana screamed as more wounds were inflicted on Simon's body.

His hand was at the ready for to use it but deep down Simon knew he wouldn't, "LOOK AT YOURSELF!!! I'VE DONE A FEW BAD THINGS BUT YOU'RE MAKING A JOKE AS TEN TIMES AS BAD AS IT IS AT A MINIMUM!"

"A FEW... MORE THAN I HAVE, MORE THAN ALL YOUR SISTER AND BROTHER. MORE THAN MICAH'S COMBINED. THIS IS RESOLUTION IN MY EYES, THE ONLY ONE," more blood flowed from Simon as Cristi struck him while screaming.

Seeing that there was no way out of this. That this was his cross to bear and the only way to get what he wanted was acceptance Simon said his voice riddled with anger, "THEN DO IT!!!” the clatter of Simon's sword filled the air as it hit the ground. He stood proudly unmoving knowing that death was coming for him. Knowing that his mother was going to deliver him to the hands of the reaper, that hurt a lot deep down but he wanted to stay in that family.

She approached him snarling, "I DIDN'T WEILD A WEAPON WHEN I DIED FOR YOU AT NIX'S HANDS...... DON'T THINK DROPPING YOUR WEAPON WILL MAKE MY MIND CHANGE," the loss of blood caused Simon's senses to dull. Before he realized it Cristi was behind him. He turned toward her and that's when the barrel of her gun caressed his forehead. The sound of a final round filled the house and that's when everything went dark for Simon.

Cristi was not one to shirk away from responsibilities when the deeds needed done, tonight was no exception. Anger coursed through her veins feeding the fire burning through her mouth with every word spat and screamed at him. Finally the last bullet in the chamber was the one that sent his body into a lifeless lump on her floor. Blood splattered walls, floors and ceilings were nothing uncommon to her apartment but she picked that place solely on the point he’d helped her own the place. It seemed, not a cruel twist of fate, but a loving gesture she regarded his death there by her hands. There was no content sigh of relief, there was no happiness of taking an enemy’s life, and the coldness remained in her.

Simon wasn’t sure if this was a memory or something more. The realm was a place to play tricks on anyone. Sometimes the line between reality and dream blurred when you were a spirit.

Either way, all of the memories hit Simon hard and he fell down on the ground. Black welled up in his eyes as the start of tears stained his face. Fear gripped him and caused his body to shake while his hands moved up his body as if compelled by some unknown force that wasn’t his own doing. They stopped at his forehead where the bullet was still scarred, the fingers registered what was left of hole. The sensation caused more pain to surge through him and it brought out a scream. Death was never pleasant but dying by a loved one hurt ten times over.

With all of the pain surging through him Simon pushed off the ground heading toward familiar ground. Both his trench coat and “As Seen on TV” t-shirt were tossed away. They were too stained with bullet holes, blood, and bad memories to be wanted anymore.