Snippets of Eventide

No.1: Waking in Eventide

Dakota sighed. "She was after me, not him." He hunched forward, hair falling into his face. "I'm sorry, I should have never," he swallowed. "Never brought either of you into this. I didn't know she was back." He paused, raising his head to look at me. "Are you okay?"

Was I? My body ached, my arms hurt and my mouth was burned, but it was already starting to fade. "I think?"

"The pain should go away in a day or two." Dakota grit his teeth and forced himself to stand, legs trembling as he braced himself against the back of the couch. "Shouldn't leave any damage."

"Are you feeling alright?" Ginger watched Dakota nervously as he inched his way around the side of the couch, almost falling twice before sinking into the cushion.

He let his head fall back and closed his eyes. "I'm used to it."

Ginger opened her mouth, but stopped when I shook my head. "Let me talk to him," I spoke low enough that only she could hear. "Give us a minute."

She hesitated, but finally gave a single nod before slipping out from the room. Groaning, I dragged myself to my feet and sat beside Dakota on the couch. He cracked on eye open to watch me, eyebrows furrowed, but quickly closed it again, a soft sigh slipping from his lungs. Slowly, I leaned back. The room was silent besides our quiet breath, empty besides the two of us. Relief seeped from my chest to my blood to my body. It was only us. Nothing watching, nothing waiting.

"She's gone." My words came out barely a whisper.

Dakota nodded, but when I turned to look a tear ran down his cheek. He swallowed, but it didn't do anything to stop his breath from catching in his throat, or stop the twisting of his face.

"It's pathetic," he murmured. "That I'd almost hoped to see her again, after we killed her the first time."

I shifted, tucking my legs up onto the edge of the couch. "Who was she?" Curiosity tugged at my heart, only growing stronger with every beat that Dakota hesitated.

He took a deep breath. "I don't know. She told me she was an overseer of dreams and that she needed my help. She would train me as her knight to defend against a nightmare uprising. I was six, I didn't know any better." Dakota trailed off, but when I stayed silent he continued. "She come to me almost every night, throwing something new at me to learn how to fight off." He shrugged. "I got used to it. She'd always been firm but never cruel. Although..." He shook his head. "In hindsight maybe she was and I just didn't realize."

Quiet filled the room once again until I gathered the words. "You said you killed her before?" There was so much I felt like I didn't understand.

Dakota nodded. "Yeah." He slowly opened his eyes, but stared straight up at the ceiling. "When she claimed the nightmares attacked, I fought them alongside my friends she'd dragged into the whole thing." His voice faltered. "It wasn't fair. Irene died, and it was up to me to make sure no one else did." Fresh tears welled at his eyes. "I was scared, and when it was done I didn't want anything to do with her anymore but she wouldn't let me go. We ended up fighting her in the mountains and where we killed her."

My shoulders fell. So that's why he thought it must have been something else lurking in his home. I let my eyes settle back into my lap. If she wasn't a demon though, what was she? Maybe she was a demon, just not one I'd ever seen before. If she were powerful enough to drag both of us into a world of her own creation, I couldn't imagine having to try and make her let go of a decades long hold.

"She must have found some way to get back," Dakota seemed to talk to himself. "She was weaker this time, though."

Weak? I stared up at him, mouth falling open. That was weak? The image of blood welling from Dakota's torn throat flashed through my mind. The shark, the blood dripping down my own arms, the never ending forest... I took a breath to steady my nerves. What would have happened if Dakota hadn't called us in? If he hadn't thought there was a misplaced spirit in his house, or if he hadn't noticed the cat's return until much later?

He glanced down at me. "But you, destroyed her, right?"

I nodded, running my tongue over the raw skin of my mouth. "She's gone. Like she never existed."

"How did you do that?" Dakota paused. "All of that. I thought I was dead, but then I was stuck in your body and..."

I swallowed. "You were dead." I couldn't meet his eyes. "I was able to take your soul before you died though."

"Oh." Dakota blinked, confused. "I didn't know exorcists could do that."

"They can't." When he looked even more confused I kept going. "I'm uh," I hesitated. Should I tell him? He'd told me about the cat, it was only fair that I shared too. "My father was a demon. I mean, he still is I guess."

"Oh, really?" For a moment worry crinkled his face, but then it was gone and he sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry you had to go through all this, but thank you." He gave a tiny, weak smile. "For coming, for saving my life, for finally freeing me from her once and for all."

I returned the smile. "Are you going to be okay on your own?" I eased myself up from the couch. Already the brunt of the stiffness had faded and I didn't need something solid for support.

Dakota nodded. "Like I said, it stops hurting in a day or two."

"That's good." I glanced down the hallway to the door. Ginger's figure stood silhouetted o the other side of the little glass window.

"Before you go," Dakota's voice brought my attention back. "Do you think you can keep this a secret? What we've talked about anyway." He paused as I nodded. "Thanks, it means a lot. Also, if you ever need anything... I'll do what I can."

I smiled. "Thanks."

For a moment, neither of did anything, eyes locked in hesitation before I broke away towards the door. Everything seemed still, light, compared to when Ginger and I had entered. On the other side of the door Ginger asked what had happened, but thankfully didn't press when I declined to explain.

As we drove back to the college, I couldn't shake the feeling I'd only just glimpsed something far bigger than Dakota had admitted. Something ancient, malicious, powerful. Something thankfully no one would ever be roped into ever again. I leaned against the side of the car door. Maybe in a couple days I'd check on him on my own. Even if the pain would be gone, maybe he could use the company. Or at least help with his house.