MY KNEES CRACK AS I stand again, my fiancé's jacket pocket heavy with the small Bible Markus had lent to me for the time being. In my peripheral vision, I see all eyes on me, cautiously watching my every move as the tension crackles at a rapid increase between the bloodstained walls. The vampires wandering in the center hiss at me as my heart pounds in my chest, ready to rip through the bone and skin holding its hyperactiveness captive. Modes drift before my eyes as my breathing becomes much of a trouble, thickening like a large mass of spider webs as each intake tangles between my ribcage. Cold fear trickles down my veins as I stare the unholy creatures in the eyes. They cannot defeat me; I won't let them. God willing.
"Sit down, pitiful human, and say your prayers. It might just be your last," the woman who had crushed my airways hisses while a smirk stretches her paper-thin skin. Her features are sunken in-probably from lack of blood-but I can see where the deception of her gorgeous face would have been, below the black branch-like veins raised off her skull, stretching her skin outward, and darkening the caverns beneath her murky red eyes. My hands tremble at the sight of her, at my attention to detail. I clench them into fists.
"Would you like me to pray for you first, then?" I ask, my voice cracking betwixt the syllables. I try to sound nice; it just doesn't come out that way.
She utters a questionable sound my way. I press on.
"It feels rude to say it, but I think you need all the prayers you can get. You all do."
"What are you doing?"
I snap my head to the right, where the voice had come from. A girl, seeming older than I am, stares at me with wide, reddened, sleepless eyes, her body caked in and tinted with dried blood.
"Stop egging them on!" she pleads.
For a moment, I wonder if she's right. But in my heart, I know she isn't. This is something I need to do-I've hardly stood up for anything my entire life. I've hardly stood up for God my entire life. All the arguments and scriptures I've had aloud all came out as hot frustrations as I tried to understand the world I was no longer connected to due to my faith. They'd either be in my writings or in my music or with, and at, my now fiancé, Tobias. I can't always be so passive. Especially now. I've got to let this anger, this fighting for God's side fuel me, and let God do the talking. I've got to be angry for what God would be angry towards. And although revenge isn't in my vocabulary (well, it's just not something I do), I know that revenge is God's, and I shouldn't take it into my own hands. The best thing I could ever do is pray for them and stand up for what I believe, for what is right, even if my life is on the line.
I shake my head slowly and turn my attention back to the hoard of vampires, who have crept closer in my distraction. I shake my head again, false confidence slipping into my veins as my body begins to quiver.
God, give me the confidence to stand up for what is right.
"My body aches, my stomach is empty, and I'd like to pee somewhere else besides in a bucket, but I will stand up for myself, for God, and for every Christian you've ever taken hostage, even if it kills me."
A few of the vampires chuckle. Some hoot and holler; catcalls ring through the dead, metallic-smelling air. A few seem worried, and a handful almost looks... hopeful.
"Bold words from such a scrawny girl," the male vampire who had told Sam to back off snorts, crossing his arms.
I clench my jaw. I've never had a way with words, especially in an argument like this. But my brain starts to move faster, putting points and loose ends together-it does that sometimes, and I can't seem to slow it down. Why would I ever want to?
"Such venomous words from someone who can't drink my blood without losing his teeth."
He grits his teeth and jabs a finger at me angrily. "Whatever it is inside of you that refuses to give in, I will smother it, mark my words."
"Where, on the wall?" I ask, my tongue acidic. Who am I right now? What am I thinking?
I bend down to wipe some almost dry blood off the ground, my fingers quaking as adrenaline makes them tingle. I get like this too, sometimes. Rebellious and striving to prove a point. I wish I didn't get like this...
"Whatever... it... is..." I murmur as my finger paints the words on the wall. Reminds me of Harry Potter. Reminds me that I should be disgusted right now. I should be curling into a ball in a corner and sitting still, reading the Bible, probably crying my eyes out, awaiting my death from mal-nutrition, but no. I had to let the competitive side out of me. I had to show them they didn't have the upper hand. "What did you say next; I don't remember," I ask, turning around as I bend to swipe some more blood.
In a split second, the man disappears and materializes beside me, his right fist drawn back. My breath catches in my throat, and I let it out slowly, a hissing sound created from the action.
"Do it," I spit as he hesitates.
"Krogstad," the vampire named Sam calls out lurchingly. "Don't throw the experiment."
The man with the strange name growls audibly and misses my ear by a hair, his fist colliding with the white wall. HIs face is inches from mine, anger the only thing boiling inside of me as the tension crackles between us.
"I guess you'll be the first," I croak, my voice escaping me once again. The only fear I felt was of him hurting me physically. He can't pierce my skin with his fangs; he can only lay hands on me and kill me that way. Never will I stumble in my faith again, not with the struggles at hand here in the Blood Room. I've never been the leader type, although I liked the thought of it. Animorphs by K. A. Applegate had me connecting with myself on a different level. Rachel was me; blonde, ferocious (trust me, it's the right word), headstrong, and willing to take anything on. My point is, I was never the leader type, just like Rachel was, but now I have to take that role. Or at least, I feel like I need to. I need to be Jake, the leader of the Animorphs. (Side note: no one ever knows what I mean when I talk about Animorphs.)
Let me decode that reference: I need to step up and stop being a passivist. Jesus was tolerant when he needed to be, spoke when he needed to, and stood for his Father and the faith and hope he delivered upon all of us.
"I'll pray for you," I say. I meant it. I would pray. I want to find a way to help them redeem themselves.
He turns his stiff head to face me, his predator red eyes locking on mine. I hold his gaze. My body tingles with anticipation, with adrenaline. But I hold it. He will not strike fear into me. The Lord says not to fear. So I will try my hardest not to.
"You're going to be needing to pray for a lot more than a lost soul," he growls, yanking his fist from the wall. He turns sharply and heads back into the vampires littering the center of the room.
I take a step to stabilize myself, sucking in a deep breath of air. I'd done it. I'd stood through it!
A pang of joy rips warmly through my chest and I smile. It disappears at the hands of the words 'what the actual heck was I thinking?' I begin to relapse in the moment, worrying about the next and the repercussions of this.
I shake my head.
God's got me.
Repeat it twice more.
Find the ground.
Sit. For a long time.
And breathe.
"That was brave."
My eyes open to see Markus sitting next to me.
I press my palms against my closed eyes. I could feel the grumpiness shifting in my chest. No sleep. I needed sleep to stay sharp, to remember and to equip myself with the Word. I feel like death is clawing at my skin, my eyes, my bones, as constant adrenaline wisps find their way into my bloodstream. Hunger rips through me and yet I feel like I'm going to puke. My body is backed up in the suckiest ways and all I want to do is lie down and sleep. I almost want to die. Almost.
"Thanks," I groan as I lift my head and lean against the wall. I suddenly start to think about home. I miss it. I miss my family, I miss Tobias...
My eyes shift to my engagement ring and tears leap to my eyes. I never thought crying would be possible until the first tear falls. And then they don't stop.
My body quivers with the shudders of delusions coming from my tearducts. They feed us scraps. They water us like plants or dogs.
Tobias... I cry mentally.
I feel Markus' hand on my back. It doesn't startle me. I don't pull away. In any other situation I would have. Change is upon me and stroking my insides as if they were a cat. I longed to see my family, wanted to be in my bed, wihsing I would wake up from this nightmare terrorizing me every moment between every blink-the nanosecond I get where this world disappears. The only problem is that it reappears.
"Not so strong now, are you, girl?" A low voice rumbles to my ears and I snap my eyes up, gritting my teeth. My body shudders with a wave of anger as the vampire laughs out loud and walks away. Part of me wants to lurch towards him. The other wishes to stay and continue crying, only to dehydrate myself and die from it. But the feeling of dehydration would make me panic and I'd go into survival mode. Not to mention I'd grow increasingly irritable and I wouldn't be able to focus on the task at hand.
"Revenge is God's," Markus whispers. I scowl.
"Revenge isn't what I'm wanting," I whisper, sniffling loudly and wiping the excess snot on the sleeve of Tobias' jacket. For the third and, hopefully, not last time, I stand up.
"I'm not afraid of you." My unnecessary shouting slices through the still, blood-scented air as another tear slips down my cheek. "It's you that is afraid."
I place the hand I'd jabbed a blood-stained finger at them with at my side and clench it. My exhale slithers through my clenched teeth as my eyes shift over the snarling vampires. "And you should be."