Her Haunted Eyes (Ch. 2)

Stupid mistakes, stupid choices that threatened them both. Shouldn't it be harder to threaten one's own life? Rhelle ached. Her arms hurt, from fleeing with Lunira's dead weight on her. Her back hurt, supporting it all. Her heart hurt. It was her own fault, her stupid mistakes that endangered them both. She tightened her grip on her red-headed lover, and forced herself to move silently. This wouldn't work. She couldn't run like this, all the way to town. She couldn't keep going.

The roots of the trees around her, usually as comforting as the bright green foliage that made a leafy roof above her head, seemed to reach up to trip her. Perpetually damp leaves shifted beneath her as she ran, and a sharp metallic taste flooded her mouth. She cursed, finding herself on her back.

The knowledge that it was all her fault weighted her down. If she had staked it, they would be alive. If she had barred the door, they would be alive. If she had done anything but what she had, they'd be fine. As it was, they were anything but.

Guilt wracked her, and threatened what little hold on herself she had. Rhelle the strong. Rhelle the proud. Rhelle, who was about to give up entirely. She mocked herself silently, only vaguely aware of her surroundings.

She wasn't used to being afraid. Lunira was the one who showed every emotion that crossed her mind. That was how she'd met her, for that matter. Rhelle smiled at the memory.

It had been Midwinter's Eve, the traditional night of celebration and gift-giving, followed by a day of solemnity and prayer, for those who worshipped a specific god or goddess. She had been invited into yet another house for a sip of wine, and a cookie or two, though she was honestly more than sated. Lunira had been there, in all her short, redhead-y sweetness, and had practically knocked her down with the hug she gave.

After that, a fast friendship formed, which quickly turned into love, though there was little glory in it. Rhelle had lived in town at the time, and when the townspeople found out that she was a lover of women, they'd given the both of them no end of trouble. The first few months had been... very difficult. Things got much better when they built their house together in a secluded forest, or, admittedly, Rhelle did, while Lunira scolded her for the mess. It had been five years since she had last left it. She wasn't looking forward to her return.

She wondered how long she could hold on to who she was, surrounded by a crowd again. It would be maddening. She had been so long without being forced to interact with anyone but Lunira. Thus, it was more than just the immediate situation that frightened her. It was fear itself, and the possibility of losing herself.

Rhelle was strong, and she took pride in that. After all, it had been her pride and strength that Lunira had relied on in times of trouble. It had given them both something less foreboding to focus on. In her desperate plight, her pride was the only thing she had left to cling to, and so she hung on tenaciously.

That and her love for Lunira kept her moving. By now, she had exhausted all natural energy. Lunira’s life might depend on her getting to the village in time, so there was no time for weakness. Instead, her mind raced, looking for a place to take a few minutes of safe rest.

She didn't recognize anything. The forest was different at night. Terrifyingly, paralyzingly different, and nothing was safe.

Scanning the forest, she didn't see any vampyres. Not that this meant much, but it was certainly reassuring. She started to run again, already eyeing her next stopping place. The moon, covered with thick cloud, provided just little enough light that every coming branch seemed to hit her in the face without warning.

She squelched a curse as she felt the first drops. They always did say that when you thought it couldn't get worse, it started to rain. They were right, apparently. She hated it when they, whoever they were, were right. It never meant good things. The rain began to thicken, and she felt tears of frustration building.

Rhelle was coming to the edge of the forest, now, and though she could see the trees thinning, and knew that less branches could catch her, there would also be less hiding places. There was always more danger in an open area, too, and the darkness was no bar to a vampyre's eyes.

She surveyed the veiw before her, not slowing as she took in the gothic sight. A full moon pulsed behind dark, smoky-gray blankets of cloud, and the thick cover did not allow the stars to show. The ground before her, and now, beneath her feet began to feature grass, though it was hardly thick and full.

In the darkness of midnight, the patchy, wiry blades brought on a strong feeling of foreboding.

Her legs began to burn, and she decided absently that she should have chosen a closer stop. She was too tired for long-distance running. Lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by a low rumble of thunder. The harsh, violent light illuminated a high wall of rock, right in front of her.

The cliffs. All her life, Rhelle had feared these cliffs. Shed always been told that demons lived there, and its forbidding craggy face only served to support such thoughts.

She remembered her favorite of the stories. It told of a cliff-ghast who lived there, and ate only the marrow of bones. Since it was easiest to get to, with fair quantity in humans, mankind was its favorite prey. She'd never explored to find out if this was true. Looking to the forboding rock, which her imagination neatly transformed into a malevolent entity, she swallowed her fears, and fervently hoped the story was untrue.

They'd always frightened her, though she never admitted it, because she was a very superstitious person. Show her a rabid bear, and she would grin fearlessly as she protected her home, but haunted cliffs usually terrified her. Now, though, they were a godsend. She found it easy to forget all misgivings. Scanning its shale face, she almost moaned in despair.

The night was too deep. She couldn't see if there were any caves handy. Too bloody dark to find a place to rest. She waited until the whiteness seared the sky again, and dashed, stumbling on the rocks that began replacing the trees and the grass. Spotting an uncomfortable, but defensable crack, she crawled inside, and just in time.

She heard a heavy footfall from her left, and she melted further into the shadows. Then, for the first time in her life, she heard a vampyre speak. Shock alone kept her from gasping at the repungent sound.

"Why does she want her so bad? I’m cold and hungry!" A harsh, whining voice rose to an almost painful pitch. Rhelle winced in the darkness.

"Oh, just shut the hell up. I'm so sick of your screeching. We're all tired and hungry, but she is furious." A thick snarl of anger rose over the noise of the storm. It didn't raise its voice, but rage caused it to shake. "Nobody gets away from a vampyre after they've been bitten, and no woodwife bitch is going to change that now."

Suddenly, jarringly, she realized who they were talking about. Lunira. Her Lunira. How dare they talk about her that way? Lunira was purity, and light, and... She looked down, and almost wanted to cry.

She didn't look like purity and light anymore. Now she just looked sick. Lunira's face was supposed to be pale, but now she seemed like a sheaf of paper, perfect white, edged by curling, hungry flames.

Were vampyre bites poisonous? She didn't know, but dawn was still hours away, and Lunira didn't look good. She wasn't breathing properly, either. It was too... arrhythmic.

She shivered in the cold, dark maw of the rock, looking northward to Airael, the north star, for comfort. It twinkled back at her, but it seemed so far away... She shivered again.

Lightning split the sky again, and Rhelle took advantage of the sudden light to check the bite. It was red, and hot to the touch. Where the rest of her was a normal temperature, the bite mark was so hot... no it wasn't. Just the edges--within that ring of heat was an eerily sudden patch of ice cold flesh.

Somewhere in the back of her head, she laughed hysterically at the sheer oddness of it. Madness rose in her, and she did not care to squelch it. She felt it to be justified.

"I smell them!" A triumphant, serpentine voice cried through the forest, effectively summoning every vampyre within the mile. Rhelle jumped, then froze, and cast a desperate glance at her lover. She was still pale, still just lying there, as if dead.

She could see it sniffing, having caught her trail. It would be there in a minute, and she couldn't run without being seen. The wind blew, and lightning flashed, and she could see the trees before her struggling to hold onto themselves. The impassive rock around her was completely unmoved.