Taking a break from another one shot for this one, the idea has been stuck in my head for a few days now. (Also: the other one shot is going to be well over 6k words, but probably less than 10k. Not sure about this one.)
This one, uh, gets dark.
---
RPOV
I stared at my hands, my mind too full and also too empty to do anything else. They looked wrong. Too dark, and too fuzzy. Everything looked too fuzzy now. If I had to guess, it was kind of like when someone with glasses took them off. I wished my problem was that I needed glasses.
I didn't know how long I sat there, a curtain of hair blocking out everything but my hands and my lap that they were resting in. As absorbed as I was, it was impossible to miss his presence, even if I couldn't see him, and I found myself speaking for the first time since I was put here, "Get out." My voice was raspy, my throat sore. I wasn't sure if it was from the screaming, crying, or dehydration.
"Rose we-" I was a little surprised to hear a strong Scottish accent instead of a Russian one. Apparently, there was one way to get my mother's attention.
I looked up, not bothering to brush my hair of out my eyes. And still, my eyes locked onto his, "Get. Out."
I vaguely noted the other two newcomers looking at him, but I refused to give into my body's urge to look away. I could feel myself getting more and more upset, despite the instinct that told me to stay quiet and small. I didn't wait for a reaction from any of them before I launched myself off the bed and at the bars that separated us, "GET OUT OF HERE!"
My sudden motion and fury got them to react. One of the dozen other guardians surrounding my cell escorted him out while the others pulled their stakes and I could feel myself deflate. I returned to the bed, crossing my legs under myself.
I wasn't sure how long it took for my mother to compose herself, but when she spoke, it was softer, and some of the Scottish-ness had been tamed, "Rose we just wanted to make sure you were okay."
I laughed, but the hollow sound felt foreign, "Okay? I don't think I'll ever be able to use that word again."
I glanced at her face. She was making no attempt to hide the emotions flying across her face, but I could no longer put a name to any of them. I shook my head, my old coping mechanisms coming easy to me, "You know, they teach us all about Strigoi in school. How they're full of bloodlust and anger and nothing else. I wish it had been that easy. If it had just been bloodlust and anger then maybe I could have dealt with it. But it's so much worse than that. The other emotions are still there, mostly. But everything about them feels dark and twisted.
"Spirit users have it easy. If they go insane, they end up in a padded room or a cell. I went insane and killed- what? Hundreds? Thousands? I lost track after the first week. I can still remember their faces though. I liked seeing the pain and fear in them before I killed them. I loved when they fought back because it made the prize taste better. But I also hated it because it usually meant that blood was going to end up on the pavement instead of in my throat."
I took a moment to look at my mother, her face had formed into a single emotion. One I actually could identify: pain. I looked away. "You guys shouldn't have wasted your time. I don't know how Lissa did it, but she shouldn't have. I'd be better off dead."
I could feel stares on the back of my head. She didn't know what to say and I didn't blame her. After all, what did you say to your daughter who had been a Strigoi for the past three and a half months? I wondered if Hallmark had a card for that.
---
I don't think I had any visitors for a few days after that. It was hard to keep track of the time, but I tried to keep track of when they shoved trays of food through the bars of the cell. I barely ate any of it, but I wasn't too concerned. I kind of doubted they were going to let me live for very long anyway.
My next visitor surprised me: Lissa.
"How'd you manage to get them to let you down here? Compulsion?" I looked at her, struck by how fitting it really was that she looked so much like an angel.
"I tried to get in here earlier, actually, but after what happened that first night, they didn't let anyone down here for a while. They told me I could finally see you today."
I shook my head, "No one should be allowed to be here."
"You're not dangerous." She said it so quickly and with such ferocity that I was sure she'd been saying that very thing on repeat since she'd brought me back.
"You have no idea what I am. Considering I'm pretty sure this has never happened before."
She shook her head, "You're not the first, actually. I was told how to do it by an older spirit user."
My face reacted of its own accord, but naming most emotions was still too difficult. I was mostly familiar with guilt, shame, and anger right now.
I saw something flash in her eyes when she continued, "Someone had heard rumors about restorations being possible and was able to put me in touch with him. I had to stake you with a spirit-charmed stake."
My hand drifted to my chest, and memories of intense heat and blinding light flashed through my brain. Then her words registered, "You managed to stake me?"
She smiled, but I didn't think it was a happy one, "Christian helped. He used fire to keep you from lashing out."
"Huh."
"Dimitri taught me how to do it, though." Her voice was soft, but I flinched at her words.
I turned my body away from her, facing the back wall, "I don't want to talk about him."
"Rose, he told me what happened, before."
I scoffed but didn't turn back, "You mean before I became a bloodthirsty monster, determined to turn you and him? Sorry, awaken you?"
"You didn't have control of yourself, Rose."
"Yeah, you said that about the darkness too. Doesn't change the fact that I would have killed Jesse if no one stopped me."
"We did stop you, though. You're a dhampir again." She might have been pleading, but I could barely hear her over the blood pounding in my ears. I wanted to puke.
"You stopped me three and a half months too late." I bowed my head, trying to get ahold of myself. I felt only a sliver of... relief, maybe, when Lissa left after that.
---
I laughed as he woke up, still groggy and probably nursing a grade-a headache. Possibly even a concussion. "Maybe I should have been the mentor, considering you went and forgot all of your own lessons."
Panic filled his eyes and he launched himself across the room, as far away from me as he could get. I cocked my head, I wondered if the slowness of his movements was because of the head injury or if he was just much slower than I always remembered. I watched as he slowly took in his surroundings, and when his eyes landed on me, his expression turned from panic into sorrow. It was a little pathetic, actually. Still, I knew he could be so much better.
I tutted, "First, you wander away from the wards all by yourself, and then you hesitate when I give you the opportunity to give me a fight."
Again, I watched with fascination as he felt around for a stake as if I'd have let him keep it on him. He turned to me again and struggled to put his precious mask back into place. But he couldn't fool me. His eyes, which were darting around the room, looking for some escape, told me everything I needed to know about him.
"I really did think you'd at least try and fight me, you know." He didn't respond, but I really hoped he snapped out of it soon, because it was more fun when he responded to my taunts. I pushed, "All that talk of not hesitating, how Strigoi aren't the people you once knew... turns out that's bullshit, by the way. I'm still me, Comrade. Just stronger, faster, better."
"No." I didn't think I would have heard him if it wasn't for the better hearing.
I grinned, and from the way he flinched, I was sure he'd seen the fangs, "There you are. I was starting to worry I hit you a little too hard."
"You're not Rose. You're a monster."
I pouted, "Now, is that any way to talk to the love of your life? I mean, I could have killed you out there in the woods. Aren't you even a little curious as to why you're here instead of dead?" I'd admit, the thought of draining Dimitri had presented a certain thrill, but I had bigger plans.
"I'm not going to play this game."
"But you loved playing games at the academy. You played all sorts of games with me, after all. Kissing me one minute, pushing me away the next. Claiming you're going to run off with Tasha, only to come back and kiss me again." I shook my head, "And you call me the monster."
I took satisfaction in the way his face fell. He could deny it all he wanted, but I was still Rose, and I knew I held my own kind of power over him. "Fine."
"Well you're going to have to make up your mind this time, Comrade. I can't have you being all wishy-washy anymore."
"What do you want?" He was forcing words out, his eyes were still darting around the room.
"That's simple. I want you to join me." I didn't give him time to react before I lunged forward.
---
I woke up still screaming. I squeezed my head between my hands, trying to force the memories out. I was vaguely aware of shouting just outside my cell, but I couldn't grasp any details through my own terror.
Eventually, my throat became too hoarse to scream anymore and they died out. I didn't move. Couldn't. Every nerve in my body was fried. Each breath felt like fire in my lungs. I couldn't see past the dark haze clouding my vision.
I launched myself across the room when I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around me. I couldn't tell if I hit a wall or the bars of the cage. Someone was talking. It might've been me. "No. No. I can't. No."
It felt like my thoughts were drowning me from the inside out, and I squeezed my head harder. I think I started screaming. Then suddenly, everything went dark.
---
I felt the headache before I opened my eyes. Actually, every part of my body ached. Slowly, I forced my eyes open, half expecting to find myself in the school infirmary. Reality set in as I took in my beige jail cell. Right.
"Roza." If I wasn't still working off what I was pretty sure was a tranquilizer of some kind, I was sure I would have had a repeat performance of the other day. As it was, the adrenaline allowed me to force myself into a sitting position.
"Get out of here."
He shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere."
"I don't want you here. I don't care where you go, just get out of here."
"Listen to me-"
"NO!" My shouts drew the attention of my guards. I wondered which one of them had been brave enough to step into my cell. "You listen to me. I want you out of here. I never want to see you again."
"You can't keep pushing everyone away."
I turned away, my neck was stiff, "Everyone else can do whatever they want. I just don't want you here."
He didn't move, and I lashed out.
I turned back to him, forcing as much contempt into my face and voice as I could, "You never did find out how I captured you, did you? Turns out I'm pretty possessive as a Strigoi. I stayed close to the academy, built up a following by force, and waited for the second you left the wards so I could capture you. So I could torture you until you agreed to join me. Even then, I remembered our little conversation in that van. I knew you would come for me. So I planned to make you a Strigoi instead. Once I did that, we were going to hunt Lissa down and make her join us as well. It was all part of my plan."
I could tell he'd been phased by my speech, but he shook his head, "You didn't change me. You had every opportunity."
I scoffed, "Don't fool yourself into thinking that had anything to do with some hidden spark of humanity, or love, or any other bullshit reason you want to come up with. I didn't change you because I wanted to prove you'd choose me no matter what I was. You were a challenge and a potentially powerful ally. That was it."
I paused, examining him, pushing away the crushing guilt I felt whenever he was nearby and replacing it with disgust. It was disgust towards myself, but it felt like a cage around my heart, keeping all the more difficult emotions locked away. "Do you know what blood tastes like? And I'm not talking about blood from a busted lip or a paper cut. I'm talking about what it tastes like when a body's worth of blood goes down your throat. Because I do. I know what your blood tastes like."
He was frozen. I was sure he knew I was being harsh to push him away, and the cage of guilt and disgust got a little stronger.
I held his gaze unflinchingly for a while, then turned away again, "Get out."
This time, he listened.
---
"Hathaway!" I looked over from where I'd been pacing. I'd mostly recovered from the hysterics that had seized me a few days ago. Enough that I was starting to get restless in my cell. I needed to get out of here if for no other reason than I hated being locked up. One of my guards was standing at the door to my cell, holding a set of cuffs. "Come to the door, and hold your hands out."
I did as I was told, though I wasn't sure what the handcuffs were for. If they thought I was still a Strigoi, the cuffs wouldn't do much.
Once they were on, the door to my cell opened and I was immediately surrounded by six guards. I was sure there were more upstairs. The one who had cuffed me nudged me forward. He was gentler than I expected him to be.
Slowly, we made it to the door of the prison. One of the guards who had been in the lobby stepped forward to open the door, allowing my personal guards to keep close ranks around me. Daylight spilled into the lobby and I looked at it in wonder. Even before stepping into it, I could feel the warmth of the day.
Again, I was pushed forward. I winced as the light hit my face, and I could feel the tension in the air skyrocket. Then, I felt the full effects of the sun. The way it warmed me to my very core. I hadn't felt the full force of the sun since before I was turned. Then, it had simply felt nice. Now, I wasn't sure there was a better feeling in the world.
Once they were sure I wasn't about to burst into flames, the guards pushed forward again. They were leading me to one of the many courtyards at Court. I could hear the crowd before I saw them. I wondered if I was being led to my execution.
Instead, I was led to a platform in the middle of the crowd. They'd given us a wide berth on our way up, but now I saw a sea of Moroi surrounding me. Not too long ago, they would have looked like a buffet. Now, I cringed under their judging stares.
I saw someone force their way through the crowd. My guards jumped into action but faltered when they realized it was Lissa. She ignored them and the shouts of the crowd and sat next to me, her face and posture leaving no room for argument. She placed her hand on mine. Mine were still bound by handcuffs. She frowned but didn't say anything. Her hands were warm, and I felt a little better about whatever was about to happen.
I heard someone clear their voice nearby, and I turned. There was a table on the other end of the platform and four people sat at it. Three were Moroi. One looked vaguely familiar and the other had a computer in front of them, poised to take notes. I had no clue who the other one was. The final person was a guardian. I was pretty sure he was the same one that had joined my mother and him that first night.
Once the crowd quieted, the familiar-ish Moroi took over. He explained that they wanted to assure I was no longer a Strigoi. I thought the sun sitting directly above me was proof enough, but I stayed quiet.
Then he launched into his questions. He had a clipboard in his hands and started going down the list. At first, the questions were reasonable enough. Asking about blood lust and other urges. Eventually, though, the questions took a turn for the stupid.
"Do you find the sun blinding?"
I faltered. I'd been sitting out here for well over an hour already. But he continued looking at me expectantly, and Lissa nudged me. Finally, I shook my head, "No."
"What if you stare into it?"
"Excuse me?" My response came before I could stop myself.
He bristled, but seemed to take this as a possible weakness, and continued asking, "Could you stare into the sun right now?"
I couldn't formulate an answer to the question, so I looked directly up. I quickly turned away, and rubbed at my eyes, "Well, that didn't hurt any more than it did when I was five and did the same thing."
My vision was still a little blurry from my little stunt, but from the Moroi's posture, I could tell he wasn't happy with me. Still, I'd done what he asked and didn't die so he moved on.
"And your skin, does the sun scald it?"
"It feels..." He leaned forward, almost hoping for something that would give him a reason to call me a Strigoi. Instead, I could feel a soft but fleeting smile cross my face, "It feels like safety."
His shoulders sagged a little, but the rest of the crowd seemed a little more at ease. The Moroi paced a little before facing me again, peering at my face. "What about your eyes? Have you noticed them turning red?"
"I-" I suddenly realized that it had been quite a while since I was able to properly see myself in a mirror. I probably looked like a mess. "I haven't been given a mirror at all. You're free to check, though."
His jaw dropped, but he turned to a nearby guardian and pointed in my direction. The guardian raised her eyebrow but nodded, quickly striding over to me. I kept my eyes open wide and held her gaze. She stood there staring at me longer than I thought necessary, but she eventually backed away, "No red."
I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I didn't know until that moment that my eyes weren't red anymore.
"Holy ground. Could you step into a church?"
I glanced at the church nearby. A tactical position, I was sure. I turned back to the Moroi, "Yeah, probably."
"Probably?" He jumped on my wording.
"I haven't had time to try until now." I knew I probably wasn't helping my case as much as I should be, but the stupidity of the questions kept my mouth moving faster than my head. It took me a minute to realize someone was laughing. My eyes scanned the crowd and they landed on Christian. He, apparently, had been enjoying my answers. Once I noticed him, I saw Eddie standing beside him, trying to shut him up. And on the other side-
I forced myself to look at the Moroi that was questioning me again. He'd been as distracted by the laughing as I had been. His composure regained, he asked me and Lissa to recount the restoration. I winced. The memories of that night had returned in a trickle ever since Lissa had visited me for the first time. I took a moment to collect myself before I spoke.
"I remember fighting anyone who came close to me. There were so many guardians and... and other Strigoi that it was hard for even me to keep up. I think... I think I was about to be staked by a guardian. I was expecting a stake to the heart, but then all I felt was heat. Someone had erected a wall of flames around me. I was looking for a way to escape them when I saw Lissa coming at me. I didn't even register that she was holding a stake until she was driving it into my chest."
I heard a few gasps from the crowd.
"At first, I felt... pain. From the fire and the stake. And then suddenly, it felt like...." I didn't even know how to describe it. "It was like a bomb exploded in my chest. A force pulled at my chest until I thought my heart was going to be torn out. And then there was just...warmth. Life. Everything after that is blurry."
Lissa jumped in to describe her side of the story before anyone could dissect mine. I don't think anyone fully followed either of our stories, but the Moroi apparently didn't have any more questions because he turned the questioning over to the dhampir.
He took a moment to introduce himself, "I'm Hans, I'm the head of the Guardians."
So. This guy would have been my boss. He seemed like someone who would have hated me, but it quickly became clear that his line of questioning would be much more effective.
He stood a foot away from me, looking down at me, and he pulled out his stake. "Could you hold this right now?"
His voice held a hint of challenge in it, and I could feel that old urge to prove myself. I nodded. I had to reach both hands up, as they were still cuffed together, but I put them both on the end of the stake. All I felt was the warmth of the silver. I stared at the stake under my hands, the sharp point was just under my right hand. Without thinking, I brought my hand down quickly. The guardians all jumped, but Hans jerked the stake back and held up a hand, keeping the others at bay.
My movement had cut a large gash in my hand. I held it up for everyone to see, eliciting gasps from the onlookers. It hurt like hell, but it was clear that I wasn't crying out in unbearable pain. I bit my lip as the blood flowed around my hand and down my wrist. Lissa leaned forward to heal me, but Hans stopped her too.
"Stop. If she's still a Strigoi she'll heal from that on her own in a few minutes."
Lissa bit her lip but nodded. It wasn't until the blood had dripped all the way down my arm and started forming a puddle at my feet that Hans stepped back and let Lissa heal me. The familiar warmth soothed me, and the pain faded entirely from my hand. The crowd watched in wonder as the wound disappeared.
Hans nodded, satisfied. Then, questions were opened to the public. There were a few tentative questions from the crowd, but my favorite by far was the tiny little Moroi boy who I watched shove his way through the crowd, dodging the arms of his screaming mother the entire time. He was finally stopped by one of my guards, but he continued to evade his mother. "I have questions!"
My eyebrows shot into my hairline. He was a bold little bastard. I looked at his mother, stress evident on her face. I wiggled a bit so that I could put my hands behind my head. A shot a glance towards another guard who seemed to get what I was asking. He stepped behind me, poised to hold me back. It seemed to calm the mother a little, but she was still biting her lip. The Moroi tried to stop the boy, but he was no match for the six year old.
The little boy stood tall, and he fixed his eyes on mine, ignoring the Moroi, "If you're a Strigoi, how come you don't have horns? My friend Jeffery says Strigoi have horns."
I held back a laugh. "Strigoi don't have horns."
He frowned at this information, but he clearly had more questions, "Well, how about the eyes? And the fangs?"
The questions sounded a lot less stupid coming from him, and I smiled. "Well, what color are my eyes?"
He took a step closer, despite further protests from his mother, and peered into my eyes. He sounded disappointed when he answered, "They're brown."
I nodded, "And my teeth?" I grinned. The sensation felt odd after being stuck under a cloud of grief and depression for so long, but it also felt nice.
"No fangs." He confirmed. He'd already asked more questions than anyone else, and his mother seemed desperate for him to walk away, but this kid was not to be deterred. I made a mental note to hire him if I ever needed a lawyer. "Strigoi are super strong and nothing can hurt them, right?"
I almost corrected him about the not being able to be hurt part, but I was pretty sure if I told him Strigoi could be killed by a stake he'd demand one be plunged into my chest. Instead, I nodded a confirmation.
"Well, can you be hurt?"
"Sure. By lots of things." He seemed to ponder this for a moment. Filled with the desire to fill the silence, I added, "You could probably hurt me."
His mother screamed as he rushed forward, having taken my words as an invitation. I only had a moment to react before I felt his fist come into contact with my knee. I threw myself backward into the arms of the guardian who had stepped forward earlier. I caught a hint of amusement on his face as he supported me. He pushed me back into a seated position as I held onto my knee. It hadn't hurt all that much but the kid did have a solid arm for a six year old Moroi.
I heard Lissa chuckling beside me as the kid was finally caught and returned to his mother, who was in near hysterics at this point. I felt a little bad, but the kid had been more persuasive than anyone besides Hans. He topped it off by declaring I wasn't very strong and that he didn't think I was a Strigoi.
Most of the crowd laughed at us, and the third Moroi, who had seemingly been there for show, snorted. He declared that I was to be kept under guard but I'd be allowed to move into an actual apartment and given some freedoms. He paused and added that he wasn't entirely sure what I was, but that he agreed with the boy, Jonathan, that I wasn't a Strigoi.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the guardian behind me unlocked the cuffs. I lowered my hands and rubbed my wrists. They'd been cuffed for longer than I realized. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, turning my face to the sun. I didn't think I'd ever want to leave its warm embrace again. Maybe, just maybe, it would eventually burn away the guilt and shame that continued eating away at my heart.
I had no idea what was going to happen to me now. I didn't even dare to hope I could be made a guardian. I hadn't even finished high school. I probably wouldn't even be allowed to stay here at Court much longer. Once everyone was sure I wasn't a danger, they'd kick me out to fend for myself. I'd probably have to find a commune or something to live in.
I shook my head of my swirling thoughts. The future was a problem for later. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy feeling of the sun on my face and weight from Lissa's hand on mine.
---
Well. I didn't intend for this to be nearly 5k words. Honestly, I wouldn't be against fleshing this out and expanding it into a full story of some kind. Dig a little deeper into the trauma and what exactly happened during her time as a Strigoi. But we'll see! For now, just this. Also: like I said at the time, I've got another monster one-shot in the pipeline. It's already longer and I don't have a concrete end point for it oops.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
-PH