Klaude (Octavius Sequel)

seventeen | witching hour

My eyes open to darkness, blackness. For a moment I wonder if I'm still dreaming, that my eyes aren't even open. But then I realize I can feel the fabric of my bedsheets beneath me, silky and soft, and smell of... Pilar. 

I quickly rub my eyes, forcing them to adjust to the darkness. The space next to me is crinkled and it obviously shows someone slept there, but it is empty - simply a space. But she was here. 

I gently toss the sheets away from my body, and I am slightly relieved to find that I am wearing the same sweatpants and shirt from yesterday. Thank god I didn't do anything stupid. I have a bad habit of doing things and forgetting them the next day, even without alcohol. 

My bare feet pad softly on the boarded ground, creaking my bedroom door open, revealing the hall of the pack house in front of me. I can still smell her though, vanilla spiraling up my nose and invading my mind. 

"Pilar?" I call in a slight slight whisper. 

No response. 

I go further down the hall in the direction of her scent, and a pang of fear hits my chest when it leads to the front door. 

God, no. 

I hurry to the door, flinging it open, my heart is pounding. 

And there she is, just sitting on the front step. A white shirt (that belongs to me) hugging her shoulders. Her feet are buried in the snow, as if she was standing on a sand beach. I rush to her, placing my arms around her shoulders. But she doesn't even jump, doesn't look at me. 

Her eyes are focused intensely at the forest. 

She's not shaking, in fact, her entire body is burning up like a fever. 

"Pilar?" I whisper again, shaking her slightly. 

She opens her mouth, but the words that escape are not English. 

She murmurs something that sounds almost like a chant or some sort of prayer, and she beings to rock back and forth like a rocking chair. 

I don't know what to do. 

I feel like I'm watching a sleepwalker, and I heard you're not supposed to wake them from their stupor, you might make them fall and hurt themselves. Looking at her from the side, the violet purple irises of her eyes are almost clear, like a ghost. 

I am stuck in a frozen terror. 

And then she gasps. She freezes. And she sighs. 

She looks over at me, cocking her head to the side like a confused puppy. 

"Hello." She says softly, a slight smile creeping onto her lips. 

I have no idea what to say. I sit there, my mouth opening and closing like a damn fish out of water. 

"Why are we outside?" She asks, pulling her now blue feet from the snow and rubbing them slightly with her hands. "I cannot feel my feet." She whispers casually. 

"H-here, let's go inside." I stand up creakily, pulling her up from her seated position and helping her inside the pack house. She can barely walk, not being able to feel her feet and all. 

"Can we go somewhere warm?" She says, and for the first time I realize her teeth are chattering like two rocks smashing against each other. 

"Of course." I say, and lead her back to my room, settling her down onto the bed. I rush to my closet, grabbing a stack of blankets and begin to wrap her in them like a burrito. She giggles slightly as I begin to wrap her feet. 

"I am like a caterpillar." She laughs to herself, reacting to her own joke. 

I don't respond, too focused on making sure she doesn't lose a toe to frostbite. 

"Thank you." She smiles childishly as I finish, and I have to laugh. She looks like a marshmallow, completely covered and cocooned inside about five different blankets. 

I stop laughing and sit on the edge of the bed, wringing my hands together. 

"Pilar?" I ask. 

"Yes?"

"Why were you outside? And you were chanting something..." I trail off, not knowing what exactly to say. 

"I..." She stops herself, frowning. "I don't know. Last thing I remember is waking up and hearing a voice, saying 'come here'. I thought it was you, but you were sleeping next to me. So I assume it was a dream, so I follow along." She wriggles slightly in the blankets and I help her loosen them slightly. 

"And then?" 

"And then you are helping me inside and swaddling my like baby." She giggles. 

"You don't remember anything else?" I ask, and a bubble of worry begins to rise in my stomach. What the hell is going on? Maybe she was just sleep walking, thinking it was a dream and all. 

"Should I?" She asks, genuinely confused. 

I scan her slightly pink face, looking for any sign of withdrawal. Nothing. 

"No." I whisper, and place a kiss on top of her freezing nose. She smiles and her cheeks grow pinker with a blush. 

Then I think of something. 

"Pilar? Whose voice was it?" 

She grows silent, and her eyes flutter closed in thought. 

"I-I don't remember." She stutters. 

This time she's lying. And the idiot inside of me, or maybe the idiot that I am decides to push. 

"Pilar..." I say, and I cringe at how much I should like a scolding parent. 

"I don't remember." She snaps, and she refuses to meet my gaze. 

"Come on, Pilar." I groan, raking my hands through my hair and slightly banging my forehead against my palms. "You can't keep shutting me out!" 

I freeze. Crap. 

"I need to sleep." She whispers, and I begin to curse myself mentally. 

Great, she was finally opening up and you decide to go and do this. 

"Okay." I sigh, and begin to unwrap her from all the blankets. 

My eyes catch a slightly sign of red on one of the blankets. What the...

And then I see it. The gash in the middle of her stomach.