Chapter 103: 103
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Sting is the understatement of the year.
As soon as the liquid makes contact with the gashes on my back, it feels like my whole body is going up in flames. My skin blazes, prickling and burning as the liquid seeps into the cuts, moulding over my wounds and trailing a watery path down my body, bringing with it spikes of insurmountable pain and viscous agony. My back feels like it is blistering with it heat, and my insides feel no better. Death would surely be a better option than this.
Stop! I want to cry desperately, knowing in my heart that begging would get me nowhere, that begging would get me killed rather than keeping me alive. Yet there is some insane part of me that thinks the latter would just about be the better of the two.
Still the liquid continues to pour like a never ending waterfall, sealing over my cuts and wounds with its viscous claws, causing me to wreathe in the excruciating pain of it all. This is a nightmare. A new, throbbing ache flares in my bones, my vision smarting. Desperately, I bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming, but the tears that stream in torrents down my face are nigh unstoppable. An anguished cry escapes my lips.
"I'm sorry my dove," he whispers, bringing a slender hand forward to soothe me as he runs his fingers over my hair, stroking it softly. "It's almost done, I promise." Once more my body writhes in agony, but Soren holds me firm.
"Soren," I sob, my voice cracking under the weight of the pain that has set itself upon my bones, eating away at my flesh like a starved shark in fish infested waters. "Soren it hurts, it hurts, please make it stop-" I beg, my voice rising then breaking off to release an unrestrained scream of anguish as I arch my back into the table, tears leaking down my cheeks like rain on a window pane. I squeeze my eyes shut.
"There, no more, it's okay," he soothes- perhaps a little hurriedly, as the bottle at last empties and the final drops of the liquid evaporates off my skin, leaving my wounded back exposed to the open air, but no longer bleeding out. Soren's fingers ghost over my wounds as I cautiously open one eye to look round at him, fearful of what I might see. I bite my cheek to stop a gasp from escaping my lips.
Soren's hands are covered in blood- my blood, his fingers shaking in a way that I have never seen before; he appears scarcely sure what to do with himself, as if he fears a single touch of my body would send me crumbling into dust. Nervously, I hold in my whimpering misgivings, continuing to survey the vampire Prince with silent assessment. With a spark of concern I notice that there is a peculiar look on his face, straining against the plastered façade of control and nonchalance, a look that no one, no one, would want to see lying on their death bed.
Fear.
"You've lost a lot of blood. A lot. That tonic helped seal up some of the open wounds, but your injuries go deep. I have no doubt if you move too much and strain your muscles, you will tear them open again. You can't afford to lose any more blood, Serena. You have lost enough already," he says at last, and I can hear the nervous gulp that accompanies his voice, the dangerous words that he has left floating in the air unspoken.
Enough blood to kill me.
"I am not letting you die," he assures, sensing the agonies in my head with the uncanny link between our minds as he hurriedly strays back to the cupboard to search for something new, frantically pushing aside bottles, bindings and all manner of potions, but I barely register the action- or anything at all for that matter. Spots dart in front of my vision, my mind swirling with the effort to simply keep myself awake, the prospect of falling into a deep slumber all at once becoming incredibly inviting. But before I can let myself dwell more on the matter, the Prince returns and begins to press something cold onto my back- some sort of binding soaked in an unknown concoction that smells pleasantly of rosemary and wild, red poppies- a welcome smell against the heavy fumigating stench of blood and death.
"Stay still, Serena darling," he instructs lightly, but with enough firmness in his voice for me to consider it the best option to lie flat and let him do his work. Carefully, (the shake in his hands somewhat disappeared by now) the Scarlet Prince dabs on the ointment with careful precision, an act that brings a welcome relief to the previous burning sensation that had run riot across my skin. I shudder faintly against the chill of it and weakly twist my head around to face him.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, and for a second, he looks up, startled, eyes wide, before shaking his head and goes back to soaking up the blood and applying the binding cloth onto my back, his fingers light, almost wary, as if overly cautious not to be pressing too hard. A fraction of a wince catches on my face as the clothe scrapes brashly against the tender skin of my back.
"Serena, now out of all times is not the time to be sorry, just keep awake for me, okay? Besides, I don't even know what you insist apologising for, save your breath darling,"
Vaguely, I nod my head. Yet as I do, my vision is blurs into darkness again, eyes unfocused as I feel my soul tug towards that soothing, beckoning darkness that calls out to me against the flames of pain. My mouth twists into a groan.
"I didn't mean to be so rash, or to cause so much trouble with Azrael, I-"
"I know, darling."
I try in vain to look back at him again, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but my efforts are for nothing, my head barely lifting from the surface that I lie on. Suddenly, a dizzying haziness consumes my mind. With terrifying quickness, my vision darkens, soul crying out against the weakness of my body, panic boiling like molten lava in my throat. Desperately I try to call his name, but no sound comes out.
The bottle in Soren's hand smashes to the ground.
"Serena," he whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he brings himself around to face me, his hands shaking as he runs his finger tips down my face, sliding the tears away in an attempt to sooth my agonies. But his efforts are for none. I wreath against the burning pain of my body and in one fatal instant bursting open the fragile wounds on my back. Blood spills out in fresh rivulets over my ruined body. A ear splitting scream hits the air- my scream.
It is in that moment that I realise with a sudden clarity I am going to die.
Soren shakes his head frantically, his fingers grasping empty air, searching, panicking, and while his voice is steady, his eyes are wild with fear.
"Don't worry, I am going to help you, you aren't going to die, I promise. Calm your heart, stay still Serena, I am going to help you," he assures in that soft, tender coo I am so used to, honeyed words thick with reassurance as he allows me to rest his palm against my cheek. My body stops shaking, my heart no longer leaping in my throat, but my back is wet with fresh, crimson blood, permeating the air with that sickly tangy stench. Whatever Soren thinks he can do to save me, it can't be good.
"Serena, I am going to use my magic to put you under stasis. It will slow down your bodily functions, and it will keep you alive until I find what I need to heal you properly, okay?"
I barely even process those words, nodding absently, half aware of my actions, my visions dull around the edges, consumed by that void of blackness that tears at my consciousness like a hungry wolf tearing at its prey. If this is death, then I do not want it.
"Wh-what does it feel like?" I ask, my voice little more than a whisper, my breath shaky, body frigid and cold from the loss of so much blood. If something isn't done soon, I don't think I will be alive long enough to even know.
"Don't think like that," Soren scolds, an edge of newfound worry in his voice that I have never seen before, a catalytic agony that rises up with the solemn tones of panic and heavy realisation. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, as someone so masterful in the arts of death, he surely knows a dying girl when he sees one. My fate has already been decided.
"It's like sleeping," Soren says at last, his thumb smoothing over the peak of my cheek, pressing his forehead gently against my own. "A long, long sleep. I will encompass you in my shadows and you will fall into a deep sleep until the minute I awaken you. Your body will go into a much less active state, essentially on the point of near death, but it will keep you alive for as long as I need to take to find a way to help you. Is this okay?"
I grimace inwardly. It's hardly like I have any other options.
"Promise you won't just leave me here for eternity?" I joke, using the last of my efforts to crack a wan smile. Soren, however, doesn't return it. He places a soft kiss on my head, lips lingering a little too long, as if suddenly unable to bring himself to let go.
"You have my word, my darling,"
And with one final kiss, a cold, hungry darkness consumes my vision, and I am pulled under.
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Sting is the understatement of the year.
As soon as the liquid makes contact with the gashes on my back, it feels like my whole body is going up in flames. My skin blazes, prickling and burning as the liquid seeps into the cuts, moulding over my wounds and trailing a watery path down my body, bringing with it spikes of insurmountable pain and viscous agony. My back feels like it is blistering with it heat, and my insides feel no better. Death would surely be a better option than this.
Stop! I want to cry desperately, knowing in my heart that begging would get me nowhere, that begging would get me killed rather than keeping me alive. Yet there is some insane part of me that thinks the latter would just about be the better of the two.
Still the liquid continues to pour like a never ending waterfall, sealing over my cuts and wounds with its viscous claws, causing me to wreathe in the excruciating pain of it all. This is a nightmare. A new, throbbing ache flares in my bones, my vision smarting. Desperately, I bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming, but the tears that stream in torrents down my face are nigh unstoppable. An anguished cry escapes my lips.
"I'm sorry my dove," he whispers, bringing a slender hand forward to soothe me as he runs his fingers over my hair, stroking it softly. "It's almost done, I promise." Once more my body writhes in agony, but Soren holds me firm.
"Soren," I sob, my voice cracking under the weight of the pain that has set itself upon my bones, eating away at my flesh like a starved shark in fish infested waters. "Soren it hurts, it hurts, please make it stop-" I beg, my voice rising then breaking off to release an unrestrained scream of anguish as I arch my back into the table, tears leaking down my cheeks like rain on a window pane. I squeeze my eyes shut.
"There, no more, it's okay," he soothes- perhaps a little hurriedly, as the bottle at last empties and the final drops of the liquid evaporates off my skin, leaving my wounded back exposed to the open air, but no longer bleeding out. Soren's fingers ghost over my wounds as I cautiously open one eye to look round at him, fearful of what I might see. I bite my cheek to stop a gasp from escaping my lips.
Soren's hands are covered in blood- my blood, his fingers shaking in a way that I have never seen before; he appears scarcely sure what to do with himself, as if he fears a single touch of my body would send me crumbling into dust. Nervously, I hold in my whimpering misgivings, continuing to survey the vampire Prince with silent assessment. With a spark of concern I notice that there is a peculiar look on his face, straining against the plastered façade of control and nonchalance, a look that no one, no one, would want to see lying on their death bed.
Fear.
"You've lost a lot of blood. A lot. That tonic helped seal up some of the open wounds, but your injuries go deep. I have no doubt if you move too much and strain your muscles, you will tear them open again. You can't afford to lose any more blood, Serena. You have lost enough already," he says at last, and I can hear the nervous gulp that accompanies his voice, the dangerous words that he has left floating in the air unspoken.
Enough blood to kill me.
"I am not letting you die," he assures, sensing the agonies in my head with the uncanny link between our minds as he hurriedly strays back to the cupboard to search for something new, frantically pushing aside bottles, bindings and all manner of potions, but I barely register the action- or anything at all for that matter. Spots dart in front of my vision, my mind swirling with the effort to simply keep myself awake, the prospect of falling into a deep slumber all at once becoming incredibly inviting. But before I can let myself dwell more on the matter, the Prince returns and begins to press something cold onto my back- some sort of binding soaked in an unknown concoction that smells pleasantly of rosemary and wild, red poppies- a welcome smell against the heavy fumigating stench of blood and death.
"Stay still, Serena darling," he instructs lightly, but with enough firmness in his voice for me to consider it the best option to lie flat and let him do his work. Carefully, (the shake in his hands somewhat disappeared by now) the Scarlet Prince dabs on the ointment with careful precision, an act that brings a welcome relief to the previous burning sensation that had run riot across my skin. I shudder faintly against the chill of it and weakly twist my head around to face him.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, and for a second, he looks up, startled, eyes wide, before shaking his head and goes back to soaking up the blood and applying the binding cloth onto my back, his fingers light, almost wary, as if overly cautious not to be pressing too hard. A fraction of a wince catches on my face as the clothe scrapes brashly against the tender skin of my back.
"Serena, now out of all times is not the time to be sorry, just keep awake for me, okay? Besides, I don't even know what you insist apologising for, save your breath darling,"
Vaguely, I nod my head. Yet as I do, my vision is blurs into darkness again, eyes unfocused as I feel my soul tug towards that soothing, beckoning darkness that calls out to me against the flames of pain. My mouth twists into a groan.
"I didn't mean to be so rash, or to cause so much trouble with Azrael, I-"
"I know, darling."
I try in vain to look back at him again, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but my efforts are for nothing, my head barely lifting from the surface that I lie on. Suddenly, a dizzying haziness consumes my mind. With terrifying quickness, my vision darkens, soul crying out against the weakness of my body, panic boiling like molten lava in my throat. Desperately I try to call his name, but no sound comes out.
The bottle in Soren's hand smashes to the ground.
"Serena," he whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he brings himself around to face me, his hands shaking as he runs his finger tips down my face, sliding the tears away in an attempt to sooth my agonies. But his efforts are for none. I wreath against the burning pain of my body and in one fatal instant bursting open the fragile wounds on my back. Blood spills out in fresh rivulets over my ruined body. A ear splitting scream hits the air- my scream.
It is in that moment that I realise with a sudden clarity I am going to die.
Soren shakes his head frantically, his fingers grasping empty air, searching, panicking, and while his voice is steady, his eyes are wild with fear.
"Don't worry, I am going to help you, you aren't going to die, I promise. Calm your heart, stay still Serena, I am going to help you," he assures in that soft, tender coo I am so used to, honeyed words thick with reassurance as he allows me to rest his palm against my cheek. My body stops shaking, my heart no longer leaping in my throat, but my back is wet with fresh, crimson blood, permeating the air with that sickly tangy stench. Whatever Soren thinks he can do to save me, it can't be good.
"Serena, I am going to use my magic to put you under stasis. It will slow down your bodily functions, and it will keep you alive until I find what I need to heal you properly, okay?"
I barely even process those words, nodding absently, half aware of my actions, my visions dull around the edges, consumed by that void of blackness that tears at my consciousness like a hungry wolf tearing at its prey. If this is death, then I do not want it.
"Wh-what does it feel like?" I ask, my voice little more than a whisper, my breath shaky, body frigid and cold from the loss of so much blood. If something isn't done soon, I don't think I will be alive long enough to even know.
"Don't think like that," Soren scolds, an edge of newfound worry in his voice that I have never seen before, a catalytic agony that rises up with the solemn tones of panic and heavy realisation. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, as someone so masterful in the arts of death, he surely knows a dying girl when he sees one. My fate has already been decided.
"It's like sleeping," Soren says at last, his thumb smoothing over the peak of my cheek, pressing his forehead gently against my own. "A long, long sleep. I will encompass you in my shadows and you will fall into a deep sleep until the minute I awaken you. Your body will go into a much less active state, essentially on the point of near death, but it will keep you alive for as long as I need to take to find a way to help you. Is this okay?"
I grimace inwardly. It's hardly like I have any other options.
"Promise you won't just leave me here for eternity?" I joke, using the last of my efforts to crack a wan smile. Soren, however, doesn't return it. He places a soft kiss on my head, lips lingering a little too long, as if suddenly unable to bring himself to let go.
"You have my word, my darling,"
And with one final kiss, a cold, hungry darkness consumes my vision, and I am pulled under.
Sting is the understatement of the year.As soon as the liquid makes contact with the gashes on my back, it feels like my whole body is going up in flames. My skin blazes, prickling and burning as the liquid seeps into the cuts, moulding over my wounds and trailing a watery path down my body, bringing with it spikes of insurmountable pain and viscous agony. My back feels like it is blistering with it heat, and my insides feel no better. Death would surely be a better option than this.Stop! I want to cry desperately, knowing in my heart that begging would get me nowhere, that begging would get me killed rather than keeping me alive. Yet there is some insane part of me that thinks the latter would just about be the better of the two. Still the liquid continues to pour like a never ending waterfall, sealing over my cuts and wounds with its viscous claws, causing me to wreathe in the excruciating pain of it all. This is a nightmare. A new, throbbing ache flares in my bones, my vision smarting. Desperately, I bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming, but the tears that stream in torrents down my face are nigh unstoppable. An anguished cry escapes my lips."I'm sorry my dove," he whispers, bringing a slender hand forward to soothe me as he runs his fingers over my hair, stroking it softly. "It's almost done, I promise." Once more my body writhes in agony, but Soren holds me firm."Soren," I sob, my voice cracking under the weight of the pain that has set itself upon my bones, eating away at my flesh like a starved shark in fish infested waters. "Soren it hurts, it hurts, please make it stop-" I beg, my voice rising then breaking off to release an unrestrained scream of anguish as I arch my back into the table, tears leaking down my cheeks like rain on a window pane. I squeeze my eyes shut."There, no more, it's okay," he soothes- perhaps a little hurriedly, as the bottle at last empties and the final drops of the liquid evaporates off my skin, leaving my wounded back exposed to the open air, but no longer bleeding out. Soren's fingers ghost over my wounds as I cautiously open one eye to look round at him, fearful of what I might see. I bite my cheek to stop a gasp from escaping my lips.Soren's hands are covered in blood- my blood, his fingers shaking in a way that I have never seen before; he appears scarcely sure what to do with himself, as if he fears a single touch of my body would send me crumbling into dust. Nervously, I hold in my whimpering misgivings, continuing to survey the vampire Prince with silent assessment. With a spark of concern I notice that there is a peculiar look on his face, straining against the plastered faade of control and nonchalance, a look that no one, no one, would want to see lying on their death bed. Fear."You've lost a lot of blood. A lot. That tonic helped seal up some of the open wounds, but your injuries go deep. I have no doubt if you move too much and strain your muscles, you will tear them open again. You can't afford to lose any more blood, Serena. You have lost enough already," he says at last, and I can hear the nervous gulp that accompanies his voice, the dangerous words that he has left floating in the air unspoken.Enough blood to kill me."I am not letting you die," he assures, sensing the agonies in my head with the uncanny link between our minds as he hurriedly strays back to the cupboard to search for something new, frantically pushing aside bottles, bindings and all manner of potions, but I barely register the action- or anything at all for that matter. Spots dart in front of my vision, my mind swirling with the effort to simply keep myself awake, the prospect of falling into a deep slumber all at once becoming incredibly inviting. But before I can let myself dwell more on the matter, the Prince returns and begins to press something cold onto my back- some sort of binding soaked in an unknown concoction that smells pleasantly of rosemary and wild, red poppies- a welcome smell against the heavy fumigating stench of blood and death. "Stay still, Serena darling," he instructs lightly, but with enough firmness in his voice for me to consider it the best option to lie flat and let him do his work. Carefully, the shake in his hands somewhat disappeared by now the Scarlet Prince dabs on the ointment with careful precision, an act that brings a welcome relief to the previous burning sensation that had run riot across my skin. I shudder faintly against the chill of it and weakly twist my head around to face him."I'm sorry," I whisper, and for a second, he looks up, startled, eyes wide, before shaking his head and goes back to soaking up the blood and applying the binding cloth onto my back, his fingers light, almost wary, as if overly cautious not to be pressing too hard. A fraction of a wince catches on my face as the clothe scrapes brashly against the tender skin of my back."Serena, now out of all times is not the time to be sorry, just keep awake for me, okay? Besides, I don't even know what you insist apologising for, save your breath darling," Vaguely, I nod my head. Yet as I do, my vision is blurs into darkness again, eyes unfocused as I feel my soul tug towards that soothing, beckoning darkness that calls out to me against the flames of pain. My mouth twists into a groan."I didn't mean to be so rash, or to cause so much trouble with Azrael, I-""I know, darling."I try in vain to look back at him again, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but my efforts are for nothing, my head barely lifting from the surface that I lie on. Suddenly, a dizzying haziness consumes my mind. With terrifying quickness, my vision darkens, soul crying out against the weakness of my body, panic boiling like molten lava in my throat. Desperately I try to call his name, but no sound comes out.The bottle in Soren's hand smashes to the ground."Serena," he whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he brings himself around to face me, his hands shaking as he runs his finger tips down my face, sliding the tears away in an attempt to sooth my agonies. But his efforts are for none. I wreath against the burning pain of my body and in one fatal instant bursting open the fragile wounds on my back. Blood spills out in fresh rivulets over my ruined body. A ear splitting scream hits the air- my scream.It is in that moment that I realise with a sudden clarity I am going to die.Soren shakes his head frantically, his fingers grasping empty air, searching, panicking, and while his voice is steady, his eyes are wild with fear. "Don't worry, I am going to help you, you aren't going to die, I promise. Calm your heart, stay still Serena, I am going to help you," he assures in that soft, tender coo I am so used to, honeyed words thick with reassurance as he allows me to rest his palm against my cheek. My body stops shaking, my heart no longer leaping in my throat, but my back is wet with fresh, crimson blood, permeating the air with that sickly tangy stench. Whatever Soren thinks he can do to save me, it can't be good."Serena, I am going to use my magic to put you under stasis. It will slow down your bodily functions, and it will keep you alive until I find what I need to heal you properly, okay?"I barely even process those words, nodding absently, half aware of my actions, my visions dull around the edges, consumed by that void of blackness that tears at my consciousness like a hungry wolf tearing at its prey. If this is death, then I do not want it. "Wh-what does it feel like?" I ask, my voice little more than a whisper, my breath shaky, body frigid and cold from the loss of so much blood. If something isn't done soon, I don't think I will be alive long enough to even know."Don't think like that," Soren scolds, an edge of newfound worry in his voice that I have never seen before, a catalytic agony that rises up with the solemn tones of panic and heavy realisation. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, as someone so masterful in the arts of death, he surely knows a dying girl when he sees one. My fate has already been decided."It's like sleeping," Soren says at last, his thumb smoothing over the peak of my cheek, pressing his forehead gently against my own. "A long, long sleep. I will encompass you in my shadows and you will fall into a deep sleep until the minute I awaken you. Your body will go into a much less active state, essentially on the point of near death, but it will keep you alive for as long as I need to take to find a way to help you. Is this okay?"I grimace inwardly. It's hardly like I have any other options."Promise you won't just leave me here for eternity?" I joke, using the last of my efforts to crack a wan smile. Soren, however, doesn't return it. He places a soft kiss on my head, lips lingering a little too long, as if suddenly unable to bring himself to let go. "You have my word, my darling,"And with one final kiss, a cold, hungry darkness consumes my vision, and I am pulled under.
