Night Children: Secrets are only secrets for so long

Night Children: Secrets are only secrets for so long Twelve: Secret

The healers had to hold Evanangelique down as she convulsed, Viktor was there, still holding her hand, her cold as ice hand… like colder than him and he lacked a heart beat. Viktor was growing more and more worried, optimism was his sanity. To think of her plausible death was crushing, he felt his heart ache even though it failed to beat.

He looked over to his Twilight Guardian, Griever had stood like a statue for over an hour not even flinching as screams echoed in the room. Griever’s eyes flicked over to Viktor’s. They shared an understanding, neither wanted the girl to die, both were panicked, and neither knew what to do.

Viktor’s attention was demanded by the awful scream she let out, he had never heard something like it, and he had hunted a few times with the Blood Brigade. Her eyes opened, those metallic grey orbs captured him, so familiar, they weren’t focused though, he could tell that, they were flicking all over the room never stopping. Confused, hurt, fearful, not aware of the surroundings in the least though she had been there before.

“Evanangelique, calm down,” Viktor used his voice as a method to calm her tremors. It had been working for the better part of the half hour. It was the kind of voice he used on his prey, but now he was trying to use it to save her.

~

PAIN!

Oh heavens, the pain!

Unholy, unheard of pain.

Unfathomable.

If I thought pain like this could exist well… fuck living. Give me the beauty which is death. Honestly it wasn’t so bad. In fact I would happily choose it at the moment if I could.

My eyes open but I could see nothing. Nothing. Blackness, my eyes search I can hear them, the healers I assume. My body shakes, and I hear him. Viktor. My Prince, my Liege, why have they not killed me for the betrayal yet? What use could I be to them? Let me die. Let me rejoin my mother in the afterlife. In the beautiful meadow where the sun warms my skin, where the exotic flowers smell of Viktor, and I am free of pain, can dance, and be who I wish.

Yes the after-life would be much better.

“Evanangelique calm down.” His voice, oh his sweet voice. Hey! I do not want that voice used on me. He tried it once when we were in our pre-teen years, see if he could get a male to do things for him with his seductive voice. Luckily I had been trained by my father to fight the voices of the Night Children. Even if it was hard at times, especially since I really was female. Male Night Children’s voices work best on female humans.

I obeyed like I had no choice, the tremors stopped and I was thankful, I was sure they opened wounds the kind healers had already sewn shut. The pain over wrote everything, “your hair is so soft,” he murmured. There the pain was gone. Like some kind of intense drug just took effect, all I needed was for purple grass to start growing and glowing fish to start swimming in it. I couldn’t pay attention to the pain, his voice overwrote it with his words, my hair, all I could feel was him running his hands through my hair, touching the top of my head.

It was surprisingly relaxing, I let out a breath of relief which sounded more like a pleasurable moan. I’d have bothered being embarrassed if I could possibly forget about his hand resting on my good hand. There now I had done it. My good hand. That made me realize I had a bad hand.

And the pain was back.

OH SWEET HEAVENS THE PAIN.

I was happy to oblige to the darkness and slipped into unconsciousness

~

“We’ve done all we can Prince Viktor,” one of the healers said, a female Night Child with a overly frail looking body, long white blonde hair and green eyes. Viktor was a bit shocked by her eyes, so natural. He had heard of the animal drinkers, most healers had to be in order to deal with the human blood they were surrounded by. Such green eyes.