Carry On Further | SnowBaz Fanfic ✓

Chapter Twenty-Two

Baz

Fuck. I think as saliva jets from the base of mouth and a razor set of fangs pierce through gums. Fuck. I panic as my thoughts hurl down the track of memories made in the past few days. Fuck. I curse as furry shadows distort smoother shadows in night's depth. Fuck. What fuck is happening?

The only source of illumination besides the darkly incandescent atmosphere comes from Simon. He's as pale as a ghost, as bright as a smudge of chalky light depicted in an acrylic painting. He glows from afar, he's light years away and I'm afraid I won't be able to reach him in time before he burns furiously and erupts in a showering supernova. One way for a star to die.

It's an odd notion that stars die. I had always thought that space and time and all things star related encompassed a sort of beauty. A poetical flare in otherwise no non-sense, straightforward subject, the complete opposite to spontaneous and emotional thinking. So when I was told about the end of a stars wise and ancient life by way of supernova, a bleak sadness had followed.

It hits ten times harder as I gaze upon the celestial body incinerating the darkness. It hits with the power of a muscle packed mutt.

I crash to floor in a blind, white hot panic that smothers me to the damp soil. I smell earth and rot and hot breath. I feel soft fur through my fingers and the crushing weight of an unnatural creature digging its claws into my shoulders, shredding through wool and cotton and skin and drawing blood. Desperately needed blood. It drives me further into the ground that I howl.

I can't breathe.

"Baz!" it takes light years to respond.

My fingers dig into the taut flesh of the mutt, I feel the bite of shredding fangs against my cheeks. I taste warm blood tainted with bitterness that's not the comforting tang of copper. I match it's brute and supernatural strength, feeling my eyes widen and sight sharpen and time's flow stagger.

The mutt is off of me and crashing against a trunk in an explosion of bark. "Baz!" I whip around wildly, lips drawn and fangs glinting. Simon's searing grip circles my forearm and I wince. "Sorry," he gushes. "Are you hurt?" He's tugging me away. Adrenaline pumps through me and I glare with clarity down the gentle slope and the line of trees. I try calm down. I turn to a brightly glowing spirit whose radiance burns the rims of eyesight. I wince some more.

Scents explode around me and I delight in them all. "Simon!" Authority shouts. I hear the whine of a gate unlocking and feel the jostle of movement. The overpowering aroma takes control of my limbs. I feel my mind is laying in the grass where the wolf attacked. "Someone – Penny, help me restrain him," he grunts with effort.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Authority chides. "Sara – get Professor Jenrics...the wards are down."

"Yes Headmistress."

The aroma cuts off, like a blanket segregating me and the scents of the world. A plume of softer scents replace it, camomile and jasmine and gentle, sweet things that lull me to a better darkness.

Simon

Headmistress Bunce's office is festively adorned. Tinsel hangs on shelves and a Christmas tree glows softly in the corner with twinkling lights. I am so shocked by this normalcy and how quickly the year has flown. I wonder what day it is.

The ferocious beast is sprawled on a plump chaise of antique red velvet, so out of it that his features soften to charming innocence. The gothic red appeals to the imagery of dark beauty. The glint of fangs show through relaxed, parted lips and blood remains spattered on his shirt and drying on each bandaged shoulder. Magic couldn't help us here. It seems as if I've exhausted my own odd supply.