Digital Daggers - The Devil Within

I didn't want to sleep, in fact I considered calling on Angel names to stay awake all night, going out and training, doing anything so I wouldn't have to lay there with only one wall separating me from James. I could feel the tingle of whatever connection we still had fighting to break through, fighting to be remembered and felt and spread, to burn brighter and consume me, but I drowned it out as much as I could. I didn't want to feel him, but the itch wasn't why I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to sleep because I didn't want to dream. I didn't want to wake up screaming and crying and have him hear me.

Ailech was across the hall and he often had to wake me, shaking me by the shoulders, telling me it was just a nightmare, that I was safe. He never asked what the worst of my nightmares were of, never even seemed to think of questions like that. He was just there to pull me out of them. But if he heard me from across the hall, I knew James would be able to do the same from next door, and I couldn't imagine the humiliation.

Instead of sleeping or training, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling until close to three, wishing I could will myself out of bed to go find some productive use of my time. I hadn't heard a single noise come from James' room since he entered, so I knew he must still be there. Maybe that's why I couldn't make myself leave. This was safety. I was near him, but I couldn't see him, speak to him. This was the best it could be.

I wondered if he was asleep, or if he was staring at his ceiling like I was at mine. I wondered if he had nightmares like I did. Every time I tried to close my eyes, even just a blink, I saw his thin face and it hurt in strange ways, pulling ways, sore ways. It hurt even more to know I had seen him in the city, but hadn't recognized him, hadn't recognized him because he was something different, not the man I had known. He was only a Darkling now, a Half. A monster. It had taken me a while to realize it, but that was my only explanation for the changes I saw in him. He had given up his humanity. That's why I had been so afraid of him, that's why I had sensed something different about him. I thought it was because he was a Fallen, but it had been James, just the Fallen half of him.

Now all the things Abby had said about him made sense. He had hardened himself, carved out every weakness, which included his humanity, his emotions, his soul. If he had ever had one, I was sure he didn't now and that hurt. Maybe I had hoped he would be the man I had known, and that then maybe we could figure out what had happened, fix things. But the man Abby had made me consider forgiving was dead, and the possibility of reconciliation along with him.

The mix of emotions I felt for him were enough to make me scream. I kept trying to allow the frustration to turn to anger, but it wasn't working. I was frustrated, I was confused, I was overwhelmed, but I couldn't find the anger, just like when I first saw him in Abby's office. I just couldn't find my hate, my rage, the things I thought were permanent parts of me seemed to disappear when I needed them, and only show their ugly faces when I didn't. Maybe that's how hate works.

I heard my clock tick to four and I was almost ready to get up and find an empty gym when I heard it, a yell from the next room over, the noise ending in a choked way, like his throat had tried to close around the sound. I was out of bed and against the wall a moment later, my ear pressed against the cool wood paneling. I don't know why I cared, why I wanted to listen, it was like a reflex.

I heard his labored breathing, each pull shaky and I knew the feeling. Waking with adrenaline coursing through you, your Shift snapping to be let out. Hands shaking and lungs strained to get the air your body's heightened arousal needed quick enough. Heart pounding like you had just been in a fight, or had run from something terrifying, like death was still on your heels. It was a terrible way to wake, and made falling back asleep impossible, if you even wanted to.

Gradually I heard his breaths slow, and the sigh of his bed as he laid back, but I knew he wouldn't stay there for long. I rushed around my room as quietly as I could, thankful for my training in silence, hoping I could get dressed and out the door to a gym before he decided to do the same, not wanting to run into him in the hall.

Within twenty seconds I was ready to go and headed for the door. Unfortunately that wasn't fast enough as I almost ran directly into him as soon as I stepped from my room. He hadn't even bothered to put a shirt on, though he had one balled in his hand. He was shining with sweat, proof his sleep was as strained as mine, and his damp, black hair stuck to his neck in a way that reminded me of Kael's length and put a lump in my throat.

My breath caught as I stepped back, taking in his new body, the remains he had become. Calling him skinny wasn't fair, he was emaciated, wasted, the thinnest layer of lingering muscle over bone with paper skin stretched over it all. Then I looked in his eyes and saw something of the old James, just for a moment before it flickered out, but what I saw made my heart twist.

I hadn't seen the eyes I used to dream of, mocking or confident or even violent. What I had seen for that edge of a second were the eyes from his mother's anniversary. From the night I had spent with him and learned who he really was, or who he had been. I saw a raw pain there that felt too intimate to share with another person, a weakness I never would have imagined someone like him could understand, let alone harbor. I hated the look in his eyes, almost as much as I hated what had replaced it, a dead, cold stare, devoid of anything behind it, in it, the empty stare of a soldier, a corpse. A Half.

I grabbed his arm and tried to ignore the heat that crawled up my own, like our connection was begging to be mended, as I dragged him down the hall. Once I knew he would follow I let him go, but continued my march toward one of the mess halls I knew would be open this early in the morning.

"Put your shirt on. They frown upon nudity at breakfast."

He obeyed and continued to walk next to me in silence.

"You'll be useless if you keep up like this, letting yourself waste away. We won't be able to accomplish anything worthwhile unless you actually try and I'm sick of sparring with Ailech, but you won't be much better unless you eat."

I ended at the double doors that led to the mess hall and turned to look at what was left of my Pair.

"I'm not going to watch you or force feed you, but you're here now and I can't change that, so the least you can do is what you came here to do and that will take a little more discipline than what you did in the city. The first thing you can change is this," I motioned to his gaunt frame, "go eat and not just now, three meals a day. Hell, four if you need it, six, I don't care. But I don't want to see you like this."

I turned and stormed away, wishing I didn't already miss the feeling of him near me, the smell of him, the burn of his skin beneath my fingers. I scowled the whole way to the gym, probably looking something similar to Ailech.

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Ambriel often spoke to me in my dreams, or in my head, but hardly ever out loud. Maybe it was difficult to make a noise in the physical world, maybe she only had the strength to show herself, to watch me, but not enough to speak. But in my dreams she had more power. I still wondered what she was, if she actually was a ghost, if that was something someone like her could do, or if she was just a figment of my broken mind, one who came out even stronger when I was unconscious. I guess it didn't matter, all that mattered was that she was there, to me at least, and I couldn't change that, couldn't block her out.

Sometimes the dreams she appeared in weren't that bad, they were still nightmares, but I could handle them, rationalize them. Sometimes I couldn't. My first night at the Vault, I couldn't. I hadn't even meant to sleep, but my mind had tortured me with thoughts of Jordan until even nightmares sounded like a welcome reprieve to me.

I saw Ambriel talking to Jordan and my stomach dropped. They were sitting in the memorial garden of the manor. Ambriel's small, pale hand resting on Jordan's arm like they were old friends, their heads bent together as they spoke in hushed voices. Ambriel said something and smiled over at me, like she was telling a secret. Jordan smiled too, her eyes sparkling in a way I had never seen, joy and playfulness with nothing hidden at the edges, nothing sad, nothing pained. It was beautiful and I almost thought I was having a good dream, even with Ambriel there. But then the trees changed, the season, until everything was wilted and gray and the wind picked up into a storm.

Ambriel's eyes went black and I felt her power hum, but Jordan was unaware, still looking at me with her beautiful smiling eyes. I couldn't look away, she was so perfect, so happy, it tore at my heart. The contrast between Ambriel and Jordan was startling. Ambriel's Shift was frightening even by a Darkling's standards. Her ivory skin and silvery white hair made the contrast of her eyes look even more demonic, even more damned. Her ice blue eyes fit her, but when they turned to black pits it was easy to see why it was believed we didn't have souls. And she looked soulless now as she pulled a small needle from the withered grass she sat on.

Jordan was oblivious as she smiled at me up until the short needle pricked her arm, the joy on her face changing to confusion as she looked at her friend next to her. And then the poison took its hold as whatever the needle held spread through her veins and her confusion turned to pain, to shock and panic. Her nose began to bleed first, then her eyes leaked the deep red, and then her ears and mouth, her fingers began next, the life pushing out from under her nails, through her skin. Soon it covered her, her hair hanging and dripping with it in thick, wet strands.

Ambriel cradled Jordan's head in the crook of her arm as my Pair's mouth opened into a silent scream, thick blood running down her chin and neck, pooling in her lap where she sat. Soon she was bathed in it and Ambriel was just as soaked by the end of the horrible scene. All the while I was planted to where I stood, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch. Ambriel stood then, letting Jordan's crimson corpse drop to the browning grass carelessly, her red stain still spreading like a disease over the ground. I couldn't tear my eyes from Jordan's body until Ambriel blocked my view, standing directly in front of me, still covered in Jordan's blood. It ran down her light dress, drenching her hands and arms, but I was still frozen, watching but unable to do anything more.

Ambriel reached her hand up to my face, Jordan's blood so close I could see the darker clumps, see the thinner spots where Ambriel's light skin shone through, smell the scent of my Pair. And then her hand was on my cheek, the warm slickness of the blood letting her hand slide down to my throat. I felt I would be sick, but I still couldn't move. She raised her hand to her own face then, her eyes black as she touched her bloody fingers to her pale lips, leaving them a bright red. She threw her arms around my neck, pulling my face down to hers and kissed me, the blood a salty taste between us.

Her hands ran through my hair, slicking it back. I could taste it, smell it, see it everywhere. My chest was pounding so hard I thought my heart would burst, but then mercy found me and I could move, the paralysis leaving me as I gained control. I threw Ambriel from me, wiping at my mouth and face, trying to rid my Pair's death, but it only spread more, covering me wherever I tried to wipe it, smearing across my face.

I looked to where Ambriel had fallen but no one was there, instead when I raised my hand I saw the small needle in it, saw the blood that covered my own arms, not Ambriel's, saw the thick red stain on my shirt where Jordan's head had laid as she died. And then I was on my knees, the gore in my hair dripping to the ground as I yelled and screamed and beat the ground beneath me. I had killed her. I would always be the one to kill her.

And then it was all gone and I was in my room at the Vault, doubled over in my rented bed, my entire body shaking, my throat trying to bring up anything my stomach had in it. It took me a long time to slow my breathing, my heartbeat, a long time to convince myself it was just a nightmare, that it didn't mean anything, that I wasn't going to be responsible for Jordan's death. That Jordan wasn't going to die. I wished I had stuck to my original plan of never sleeping when Jordan did, of keeping our dreams separate. But this hadn't been like that, this was just a nightmare, not a mix of our unconscious minds, I knew that much. My father's stain wasn't in this dream. It had just been a nightmare.

I pulled my Shift around me then, not wanting to deal with the fear anymore, not wanting to feel the nausea rising in me. I pulled on jeans, grabbed a shirt, and was out the door a moment later. It had been a mistake to come to Abraham, to be around her. Whatever was happening to me wasn't something she needed to see. If I was going mad then so be it, but she didn't have to witness it.

It was still early, I could leave the complex and be hundreds of miles away before anyone realized my absence. The thought that this would be the third time I ran from her came to mind, but I didn't see any other options. Each dream of Ambriel seemed more real than the last. Each day I saw her she grew stronger, and I was sure that meant my mind was growing weaker. If I had to go insane, I'd rather do it alone. I had come to the Vault too late, no one could help me now. I would be dead or mad long before I was ever strong enough to face my father. I had failed.

I barely had time to hide my Shift before Jordan came barreling out her door into me in the hallway, a look of pure shock on her face. I must have woken her, though she didn't look particularly disheveled. She glanced down and I suddenly wished I had at least thrown on the shirt I held or wiped the cold sweat from my face. When she looked back up at me her face was set with determination and she grabbed my arm.

I was surprised she was touching me and not acting like it burned her, like I was an acid she had to avoid contact with, but I didn't mind. Her touch felt like fire to me, the most pleasant burn I could imagine. She quickly started walking down the hallway, pulling me along as she lectured me like I was a child. I had to stifle the quirk that was trying to pull at my lips.

The Vault was constantly buzzing, there was never an hour that some portion of its inhabitants weren't up and the early morning was no exception. I sat at the end of one of the benches in a large cafeteria, food piled high in front of me, but none of it looked good, none of it even sounded good to me. It wasn't the selection's fault, Abraham made sure his home was comfortable for all its populace, but I still had to force myself to eat. It didn't help that every set of eyes in the room was on me, some more obviously than others. Ambriel was there too, across the room, sitting on a stool in the corner, just watching me with a smile on her lips, lips that were stained ruby. I tried to look to the corner as infrequently as I could, but I still found my eyes drawn there on a number of occasions, like I knew she was a danger and therefore had to constantly be aware of her location.

I hated her more than I should. Even if she was just a fracture of my mind, I still hated her all the same, just like I had when she was living. I hated that she was following me now, hated all the options it could mean, hated seeing her in my dreams as well as when I was awake. She was a constant reminder of all I had lost, all I had fought for in vain. A constant reminder that I was still losing. I had thought I could fight my nature until my job was finished, but I didn't know how to battle this, how to keep my mind my own, keep it safe long enough to end it.

I pushed the food around my plate, trying to fight the sick feeling in my stomach as I forced the breakfast down. Jordan was right, I had to eat, had to train and practice and not let my mind's sickness continue to run over into my body as well. She had said she didn't want to see me like this, and her voice said she meant that in more ways than one. I didn't want to disappoint her any more than I already had, than I'd still have to.