A Nightmare

 It was the worst night, one of the nightmares. She wasn’t prepared, couldn’t know what would happen during the night and then… then she couldn’t escape anymore, trapped in a dream that was slowly breaking her more, and more, and more…

She found herself in a dark place. It wasn’t necessarily a room, there were no visible walls nor windows, but there was one other person with her. She didn’t have to ask to know who it was, her instinct was to simply run forward, to him.

“Levi, oh gods, oh no, no, no…” Her hurried whisper was barely audible as she stopped in front of a seemingly unconscious man. He was kneeling, hands bound behind his back, head fallen forward. He didn’t move and her hands automatically got hold of his face and gently raised his head, examining his features. He wasn’t unconscious, but wasn’t far from it, either.

“What happened?” she whispered again, this time her voice was stained with starting fear, panic. How the hell did they get there and where even was “there”?

Suddenly, another voice from a different place. She jumped up and looked around, her eyes finally stopped on a tall dark figure mostly covered in shadows. She saw a male face, but couldn’t work out his features properly and they seemed to change anyway, flowing like a river as if his body couldn’t decide which face to wear that day. She didn’t find it strange, it was just a dream, after all. The fact that he distantly resembled her father didn’t startle her, either.

“I see you finally found our little present,” the man – or was it just a boy? – smiled.

“Let him go,” she growled in response. “Now.”

“So demanding…” The figure laughed a little.

“Let.him.go!”

“Alright, alright, I will… Under one condition.”

She didn’t like that. They both seemed like hostages and conditions were never good. It couldn’t be anything easy.

“Touch him again.”

It was an oddly simple command. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Levi, confused. Was that all? She was afraid, though. Knew something was coming, she just didn’t know what. She reached to him and her fingertips carefully touched the side of his neck.

The werewolf twitched as if she burned him with fire.

“Ugh, not like that,” groaned the man in the shadow. “Touch him like before. All nice and romantic.” He winked and suddenly she felt sick. What did he do to her? To her hand? She looked at it, expecting a coat of silver, but saw nothing.

“I can’t,” she replied stiffly.

“Well, in that case I will. With this.” The man pulled out a weapon from behind his back – a sharp dagger shining in the dim light and she knew, she just knew it was silver. Not only would it do all the cutting and slicing, it would also burn and wouldn’t let the skin heal properly. She couldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let that happen. She started out, her step harsher and angrier the closer she was to him.

“Watch your face!” the man shouted right before her body slammed into an invisible wall. She staggered back while he was laughing. Reaching before her, her hands only found the wall and even magic couldn’t bring it down. And then the man started walking.

Carefully, around her, making his way to Levi as if nothing happened. She traced his steps, but the wall was everywhere and with horror she realised that now she couldn’t get to any of them. Both men were on the other side of the barrier and she could only watch. Watch as their captor was getting closer to her protegé, watch as he smiled above his head, watch as his silver weapon was getting closer to his neck, to his skin. She couldn’t bear it, the sight of it, the feel of it…

“Stop!” she finally shouted right before the dagger touched him, her palms pressed against the invisible wall. “Let me. I’ll do it. I’ll touch him, whatever!”

She was confident she could do it better, in a way which would hurt less, maybe even heal him at the same time, use their bond somehow…

The man smiled and stepped back. She walked closer and kneeled, she felt her hands trembling. How could she hurt the one she was supposed to protect? How could she hurt the one she loved? In that moment she wished she knew a spell to reverse all the pain back to her.

“So…?” The man was still smiling, but she couldn’t see it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and lay her trembling hand on Levi’s neck. He twitched again, she heard his breath get heavier and soon it was audible, audibly painful until a low growl left his throat. She let go, she had to. Her eyes found a bright red burnt place on the side of his neck, the outline of her hand was boiling. “I’m so sorry-“

“God, that was pathetic. I meant really romantic. Something to remind him all the ways he’s not supposed to touch you. His face. Now.”

Hot tears started burning in her eyes and it hurt all the more because he didn’t even glance at her. Maybe he just wasn’t conscious enough or maybe he didn’t want her to see his face. Or maybe, very possibly, he was starting to hate her. It was all her fault, after all, all this. This pain, this situation…

She raised her hand, slowly. “I… I-“

She wanted to tell him she loved him, but something stopped her. Knowing that maybe those words would forever mean pain to him. That they would be forever linked to this moment. Just the image of that in her head made her cry and that time even her physical sleeping body was weeping, tears falling on the pillow.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make it better, it will be better.” Her palm landed softly on his cheek and she heard more angry growling, this time louder.

“The other hand, come on. You can even kiss him if you please, I bet he’d enjoy that,” the man was laughing at that point, visibly enjoying the show.

“No,” she replied sharply, not looking away from Levi fighting the pain.

“Do I really have to remind you that I can just slice his throat open with this?” Now, the man sounded angrier while waving his dagger around.

Just those words made her twitch and she forced her other hand to touch his other cheek. Gently. Softly. As little as she possibly could. And all she could think were those stupid words. I love you. I love you.

“Look, if I was really the bad guy I would make you do much worse things to him, hm? You need to teach rabid dogs that they can’t touch our blood. That they can’t fuck whoever they like. I could make you do that right now, I bet he’d never touch you after that…”

She was feeling more and more sick, her stomach turning with every word until finally she couldn’t bear it anymore. She stood up and made a few furious steps towards the man, then the wall stopped her.

“I have nothing to do with you,” she uttered sharply, her eyes burning with rage.

“You are my daughter,” the man corrected her and suddenly she saw her father’s smiling face.

“I was never your daughter,” she spit out which seemed to anger him even more, because in a moment, the wall was gone and he was walking towards her. Instinctively, she reached to her necklace and tried to tear it off, but couldn’t. For some reason, she couldn’t. She couldn’t disappear.

“You bear our blood!” her father hissed at her and all of a sudden she was on the floor, her head ringing with pain and her cheek stinging from the impact of his hand. “And you let this creature stain it…”

“It was stained long before,” she laughed, but it wasn’t a joyous sound. She sounded bitter, cold. “With Light. The one thing you loathe even more than werewolves.”

She got no answer after that – at least not in the form of words. He simply got her by the neck and dragged her back to Levi whose skin was all healed up, the suffering was gone.

“Touch him,” her father hissed again and her eyes searched Levi’s face as if looking for a sign – why wasn’t he trying to do anything? Why wasn’t he fighting? His wrists were bound with a simple rope, surely he could take care of that. One of the most inventive people she knew, what was wrong?

“No.”

“Fine, then.” Her father – but was it her father anymore? His face was changing again – got out the dagger and slashed it right across the side of his neck.

She gasped, automatically throwing herself forward, her hands on the wound, healing, stopping the blood, but she didn’t realise her touch was still toxic and all she did was make the pain worse. So much worse… He doubled over and she tried to get him back, only then realising what she was doing. She raised her hands in defeat and could only watch his bleeding, burning wound on his throat.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, her voice high and afraid. He must hate her. He must hate her so much…

“Don’t be,” the man in the shadows laughed quietly and his foot got Levi on his back. “Now, if you don’t want me to continue, please. You know what to do.”

“You said you’d let him go.”

“Yes, after you touched him. And that wasn’t enough. So-“

She pressed her lips together and got closer, leaning over him. “I don’t know how to get it over with any other way,” she confessed quietly. “I don’t know, I don’t know how…” It was a dream. A nightmare. And while she wasn’t aware of that, she was well aware of how restrained her strength was, well aware of the circumstances. There simply wasn’t any way around it.

Both her palms were on his face and this time she leaned closer, connecting her forehead to his. “Burn me. Please, just burn me instead. Please…”

Nothing like that was happening. She could feel his hot skin, she could feel it bubbling, destroying itself, but she felt nothing. She only heard. Heard the sudden stops of his breath, the cramping of his muscles, the low sounds deep inside. She tried using the Light, her healing powers, but even they couldn’t help. She tried to bring him to sleep or unconsciousness, but nothing worked. What was wrong? How did that become her reality?

I love you, I love you, I love you… but I can’t tell you… not with this pain, those words can never bring you pain…

It felt like infinity, her leaning over him, touching him, crying. It felt like it should never end, she didn’t even notice his missing shirt, she didn’t notice that her arm was touching his chest. Everything was worse by the minute and she couldn’t do anything, only watch and cause him more and more pain.

“Alright, I’ll let him go,” sounded the bored voice from above and she breathed out as if she wasn’t doing it before. Grateful, she got away from him, but the boils weren’t healing and the wound on his neck was still bleeding. He wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t die. If so, she would die with him. By her fate or by her own hand, she didn’t really care. She couldn’t live with that – she could never live knowing she killed him.

The man, now only slightly resembling her father, used the silver dagger to cut the ropes on Levi’s wrists and he fell forward, luckily his hands caught him. She couldn’t touch him anymore, she couldn’t risk it. Her touch burned. And it wasn’t he first time it burned. Every time he pulled away in the past, every time Quincey pulled away… it was all in her brain now, she felt like a walking flame, a walking silver dagger ready to harm him. A walking weapon.

“How are you feeling?” she asked quietly, but got no answer. And then, she froze. It took her only seconds to notice the bright silver circle rising behind his back. The moon.

“No…” Her eyes shot back to him, now breathing heavily. Was it the full moon? Did she miss something? “No, it’s not, it can’t be-“

She couldn’t think straight, not while watching his body distort, not while hearing the cracking of the bones. When she finally got up, it wasn’t him anymore, not his human self.

“You said-“

“I said I’d let him go. He’s free.” The man smiled. “Or is he too free for your liking? I’m afraid he still remembers what you did to him, poor dog…”

The fear in her eyes was suddenly very real. She’d met him like that before and she still had nightmares, how was she supposed to handle it now? She turned around and started running across that black empty space. Was she even running? Was she getting some distance from him? She looked above her shoulder – yes, she was, but not for long. She noticed the bright eyes filled with rage, the enormous dark body running right behind her, much faster than her, even with a bleeding neck and burnt, hairless patches here and there.

“Please, gods.” She tried to get rid of that stupid necklace again, to disappear, but the chain was stronger than her.

Then she got a very bad idea – but was it even a bad idea if in dreams everything is decided in advance? She was simply following a cruel script. Her back tensed up when two massive white wings appeared and she tried to fly away, but never got anywhere. She got pulled down by a giant black paw and in the next moment blinding pain struck through her body. The beast bit into the wing right at its root, right at the most sensitive part and wasn’t letting go, on the contrary. It shook its head and all she could wish for was death. That’s what she got for torturing him. That’s what she got for causing him so much pain – she got pain in return. His fangs bit down again and she staggered forward, landing on her knees. The excruciating pain caused her vision to go watery, but that didn’t concern her. What did was… the weight.

“No…”

Why was all the weight on one side of her body? Why was she growing so oddly numb? Cold?

“No.”

She looked back and the sight alone was almost enough to kill her. The darkness was now stained with bright white spots. Feathers. And a big red puddle of blood. And the werewolf… his fangs still chewing on the thickest part of her wing, on the bloody, muscly part. She could only watch. Again. While one of her wings was gone, half of her identity, half of herself. She felt hot blood spilling over her back, covering her like a thick syrup, giving her that bloody stench animals seemed to like so much. That’s when the werewolf’s eyes snapped to her.

She woke up with a horrified scream, loud enough to wake the dead. Her body automatically shot out of the bed, she fell on the floor and immediately crawled to the wall, hugging her legs. She felt the tears still hot on her face, still felt the boiling skin under her palms, still felt the numbness with the pain… She felt it all and couldn’t calm down, he breathing erratic. She was pale as a ghost and so, so frightened…

How could she touch him now? And how could she let him touch her? The fictional guilt was sitting on her chest, not going anywhere. Why did it feel so real? Did he see it? Feel it? Was he there with her, playing his painful part or was it just her personal hell?

“I’m sorry, my love, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry…”