A coarse scream rips from my lungs, seemingly to never end as it reverberates in the large empty room. Searing hot pain slices through my forearm and wrist, blinding me of thought or reason. Panic chokes me as the warm blood oozes over my sensitive skin, dripping down my restrained arm and falling into a large silver bowl.
"That is enough of that," the old woman scolds softly, moving casually around the table to repeat the process on my remaining wrist.
I struggle against the restraints, my ebbing energy barely allowing me to put up a fight. My mind is reeling, constantly searching for an escape. My body however, is tired and quickly losing the battle.
My frightened eyes dart around the room, pleading to find something that can assist me. Nothing new catches my attention. Just the same vacant pews, abandoned bibles, and this woman's tools that she has complete control over. A whimper escapes me as bile rises in my throat. Hopelessness clutches at my stomach, defeat clawing at my heart. What can I do?
Her touch makes my skin crawl as she forcefully grabs at my arm. Every instinct igniting with the need to run. Her bony fingers burn my skin as she painfully yanks at me, repositioning my wrist to where she wants. I fight against her with everything I have, swinging with all the strength I can muster. My hair sticks to my neck and face as I flail on the hard table, sweat covering my bruised and bloody body.
"You have her spirit, I'll give you that," she comments under her breath, a small grin pulling at her thin lips.
She shows no signs of struggling to contain me, easily reinforcing my binds. Tears flow freely down my cheeks, knowing that I have lost any chance I might have had. Once this wrist is sliced open, how much time do I really have left? I don't understand it! She looks so frail, so how can I not fight her off even a little? Am I really that week?
"Who's?" I ask, my voice raspy and hardly understandable.
I have to at least try. Maybe if she starts talking, she will get distracted like Leo did. She does not get tempted by my question however. Her grin only widens as she shakes her head, dismissing any delusions I have of stalling her.
My eyes squeeze shut, unable to bring myself to watch the blade glide across my skin. Violent sobs shake through me, all dignity lost as my mind is overwhelmed with wordless begging for help. Please don't let this happen. I need this to stop, I can't die now. Please, why isn't someone stopping her?
A gurgled cry interrupts my silent pleas. The sound of something heavy being slowly dragged across the floor makes my body run cold. What is that?
"Aw, how cute," the woman taunts.
A pulse of shock runs through me, cute? What is she talking about? My curiosity getting the better of me, I peek at her through barely opened lids. She has stepped away from the table, her attention drawn to something below her.
"You managed to make him try to stop me," she laughs, effortlessly kicking whatever it is away from her. "Raising the dead is one thing, and I admit when the cemetery rose I was quite surprised. Suppose I shouldn't have been, considering you have her power as well," she continues, almost more to herself than to me.
Wait what? My mind struggles to understand her words, convinced that I must have misunderstood. Did she say powers? What does that mean?
"Controlling them however, now that's when it gets tricky. Definitely no small feat, especially for one so young," she continues with a tilt of her head, considering whatever lay before her.
I arch my back, straining to catch a glimpse of whatever lay at her feet. My breath catches in my throat as I spot a hint of Leo's blond hair, his head limply dragging across the floor as he pulls himself towards her. His hand, jerky and uncoordinated attempting to grab at her ankle.
None of this makes any sense!
With a quiet chuckle she kicks at Leo once more, making him fall back with a painful sounding grunt. She snaps her fingers impatiently, looking from Leo to the hallway that leads into the pastor's office. She sighs, obviously annoyed at having to wait, and rests her hands on her hips.
I twist, ignoring the burning of my wrists as the ropes dig into my raw skin. I need to see what's happening, I need to try to understand! I know what I am seeing is truly there, but my mind keeps screaming that I am going insane.
My heart pounds in my chest as I listen to the shuffling coming down the hall. More than one person, that's for sure, but how many? How many people does she have working for her?
My body runs cold as I once again look upon the pastor of this church, only this time noticing a far more gruesome detail. The friendly man who once acted as everyone confidant and adviser now permanently silenced by a slashed throat. My stomach rolls at the site of his white robes, now stained red with the last of his blood.
Beside him, a young man that has been missing for a few days. His red, curly hair now matted down with grime and sweat. His green eyes glazed over, not seeming to be able to really see anything in front of him. Still dressed in the bottom half of his stingray costume, Kevin wobbles clumsily on his feet. His head falls slightly to one side, a gruesome bulge kinking out of the side of his neck.
Dead, I realize with a sinking feeling, these two are dead. This can't be happening, I must be going crazy. How is this possible?
"Take him away," she commands to the two, nudging the unresponsive Leo with her foot, "I'll fix him later."
The two dead men scuffle forward, nearly tumbling over themselves to get to Leo. They awkwardly grab at him, ignoring his groans of discomfort and begin dragging him back. Their slow and clumsy movements dragging out the process, making it almost revolting to watch.
"Too bad things have to be like this," the woman muses, turning her attention back to me, "with some training, you could be quite strong."
"Then why don't you train me?" I suggest, not having any idea what I am really talking about, just desperate for something.
"Oh no," she chuckles, returning to my side, "not something I will risk again."
"Why are you doing this?" I pull back against my restraints, distancing myself from her as best I can.
"Shhh," she hushes, grabbing onto my forearm to steady me, "this will be over in a moment."
The cold metal of her dagger, the edge discolored with traces of my drying blood clinging to it, grazes against my skin. Shivers courses through my body, every nerve on end as I wait for the pain to come.
A loud bang from outside stills her hand, catching her off guard. Her brows crinkle together in confusion, her mouth tightening into a thin line as her gaze shifts from me to the door.
"Now what?" she curses, setting the knife down on my stomach before walking away to investigate.
I stare at the blade, light glinting off of the shiny metal as I squirm beneath it. It's weight is surprisingly heavy, feeling as if it is holding me in place. It shifts slightly as I struggle against my binds, teetering on my belly as I fight for my freedom.
If I accidentally knock it off, will it cut me? I have to risk it. This could be my only chance!
I bite my lip, sweat trickling down the side of my face as I try to wriggle free from my constraints. My bloody arm hardly moving, practically useless as any strength it had drips away from me. I try not to focus on it, blocking out my pain and weariness as I fight. It seems useless though, my body feeling stiff and cold. The more I struggle, the harder it is for me to breathe.
I can't give up!
Even as the thought repeats itself over and over in my head, I find my muscles giving out on me, forcing me to fall back against the table limply.
"No!" the woman's cry of outrage breaks me out of my despair, forcing me to look up towards where the loud banging is coming from.
The doors burst open, splinters of wood flying everywhere as they shatter and fall to the side. My ears ring as the crashing echoes around me, silencing my thoughts. My heart leaps into my throat, new tears pricking my eyes as I stare in disbelief.
"Nereza!" Damon yells, his eyes blazing with determination as he storms through the wreckage.
I open my mouth to call out to him, but am unable to find my voice. Even without making a sound, his gaze lands directly on me, as if he was being drawn to me. I tremble as my heart takes flight with hope. I can't believe he is here, he came for me!
He almost looks like an angel sent, the light of the sun illuminating him from behind. Even his dark eyes, filled with his furry looks beautiful to me somehow. His face twists to reveal his sharp fangs, a threat to all who stand between us. His muscles tensing as he takes in the sight before him, looking powerful and strong.
"Don't just stand there!" The woman screams, snapping her fingers violently.
In that instant, all hell breaks loose.
The dead flood into the room, some running in from the back office while others throw themselves through the colorful windows. A scream escapes me as glass rains in, quickly followed by countless rotting bodies, none of them slowing as shards slice through them.
"We are surrounded!" Stefan's voice barely reaches me through the defining battle cries of the dead.
They all came! My heart swells for them all, before quickly tightening with dread. They are all in trouble, because of me!
"Kill them!" she demands, pointing her thin finger at the ones I love. She lets out a cackle even as she is forced to lean against one of the benches to remain standing. I watch as her body seems to tremor, but am distracted as her followers charge forward.
Damon roars as he rips through the bodies that descend upon him with his bare hands. Not even registering his victims as he smashes in the skull of the once kind pastor. Elena appears by his side, her face distorting with rage as she smashes a pew into pieces. She lifts a long deadly looking piece of wood, not hesitating as she lunges forward with it. She stabs through two skulls, stopping the zombies in their tracks. She tries to pull her make-shift spear free, but is interrupted by decaying fingers that pull her back.
"Elena!" Zeke cries from out of sight, making my veins run cold with horror.
I strain to see them, but as more corpses attack soon I can't even make out Damon's outline. There are too many of them, how can they hope to get out of this?
"No!" I scream, flailing desperately against the ropes, my need to save them overriding my tired body. "Don't hurt them!"
A few of the bodies still, turning to me with confusion. They sway in their spot, as if unsure whether to continue their assault or if to move towards me.
Did they seriously just listen to me?
A wave of nausea crashes through me, but I push it down. Forcing myself to focus on the combat before me, I take a deep breath. Well, she said I had power.... let's see if this does anything.
"Save my friends!" I command, my voice cracking with emotion. All my hopes and fears channeling into those three words, pleading for the impossible to work.
A pulse in my mind throws me back, reeling as the nausea pushes back at me. I try to ignore it, watching as slowly the few dead bodies that were looking at me turn back to the fight. With loud cries they lurch forward, their arms grabbing onto their own kind and pulling them back. With a savagery I never could imagine they tear at the opposing dead, ripping at them with finger and teeth, doing anything they can to stop them.
"Yes!" I cry, not caring how it's happening just grateful that my friends aren't fighting alone.
"How?" The woman shrieks, noticing the divide in her once overwhelming army. "You!" She growls, turning to me with narrowed eyes.
"I won't let you hurt them," I seethe, even as I feel my energy draining away.
"Soon, you won't have a choice," She taunts, turning her back to me and raising her arms above her head.
I know she is right, my body quivers as I become weaker by the moment. I struggle to breathe, but I don't let it stop me. I feel her, like a buzzing in my mind, trying to overtake whatever control I have. I block her out, refusing to let her get the better of me.
Dead fighting the dead, flesh ripping from bones that have grown frail with time. The snapping and cracking of one another's limbs combine with the howling to create a frightening chorus to this battle. I wish to cover my ears, to try and block out the haunting sound and images that will forever be seared into my mind. I do not dare close my eyes though, and even if I wasn't being held down I wouldn't give in to my wish for quiet. I take in every movement, and analyze every cry. Constantly searching for any sign that my friends are still alive beyond the wall of decay that separates us. I pray, to who ever could be listening, that they will emerge through the rotting corpses as any moment.
My vision blurs, the two dead armies spinning around me as my consciousness threatens to fade away. I clench my jaw and glare into the chaos, demanding my strength to hold on a little longer. The nausea grows unbearable, my stomach turning as my nostrils fill with the stench of the bodies that continue to pile into the room, filling every available space. I try to grasp onto the table, to anchor myself, but my fingers do not move. My hand that has been sliced open is numb and unresponsive, reminding me of how my time is literally draining from me.
No, I can't focus on that. They are here, they came for me. Damon is fighting for me! I will not just lay here and die while they are in trouble!
I need more power, I need to stop her! I have no idea what I'm doing though....
A movement, or rather the lack there of catches my attention and pulls me out of my internal war. I struggle to make it out, the body that wavers as it stands a few feet away. The only thing in this room not fighting.
Faded, red bits of tattered clothing and skin cling to her skeletal frame. Most of her long since withered away. Dark strands of her long, stringy hair fall forward, hardly obstructing the horror that is her face. Skull peeks through her grey, shriveled skin that has been torn away from her cheeks and jawline. Splinters of wood, most likely from her coffin still piercing through the gouges that were created upon her rising. Her singular eye clouded, but still staring straight at me.
She wobbles, hardly staying upright as she takes a step in my direction. My heart leaps into my throat, a new fear clutching at me. Why isn't this one fighting for either of us? Is it rogue? Is it going to eat me?
Her fingers, mostly bone with flesh that still dangles from her wrist reaches out to me. I cringe, my body breaking out in a cold sweat as I watch her dead hand close in on me. I want to scream, to do anything I can to avoid her touch, but I am stuck.
I still, not feeling the cold hard grasp that I was so dreading, but instead my body fills with a warmth. My fear and pain fades away as a calm settles over me. The loud cries and terrible fighting around me dims, being replaced by a soothing silence. My vision blurs, as my mind fights against the contradicting sights.
I can still see the rotting flesh and the exposed bone of the dwindling woman who stands at my side. At the same time however, it's like a light is shining through her, showing the beauty that she has. I can see her glistening eyes taking me in, full of care and concern. Her plump lips, smiling down at me with pride and love. Her olive skin is smooth and rosy at the cheeks, her dark hair framing her petite face. A face I can't help but recognize.
I don't understand...
Without warning, pain surges through my mind. My body convulses against my restraints as I lose control, unable to stop the attack on my senses. The silence is replaced with a loud screaming that echoes in my ears, blocking out all other sound. Flashes overtake my vision, my surroundings completely lost to me. Images I don't recognize bombarding me one after another, the pain only increasing with each one.
A woman, tall and regal showing her young daughter how to read and write. The two of them gardening when men with torches encompasses them. The flames erupt, burning my skin as well as my soul. The men die, while the two woman flee. They run, for years. Too many years to make sense for how young they look. So many people, so many deaths follow them. Fighting, amongst themselves as well as with the villages they pass through. Resentment, I can feel it in my own heart as the young woman felt it in hers. Freedom, a need at this point I recognize well. An escape, with a man that loves her but will never know the truth. Fear as life continues within her, not wishing to pass on the curse. A sacrifice, locking away her own life and power to save the child she loves but will never get the chance to meet.
"Do not be afraid my girl," a soft voice invades my mind, easing away the pain and soothing my body once more.
My vision slowly returns, but the sensation is dizzying. I glance around, my breath coming in short gasps as I am almost relieved to see the return of the onslaught surrounding me.
That couldn't have been real, could it?
"You will be okay, amore," the voice continues in my mind.
I look to the dead woman, who still shines beautifully to me somehow. I know this voice, I know this face. How can she cause such fear and such calm in me all at once?
"You are my life, my love," the woman continues to say without ever speaking a word. Her hand hesitantly releases me, her glow instantly beginning to fade. Slowly she raises her hand to my cheek, just barely grazing me with her touch. "You are now all that I am," her words are quiet, ebbing away with her beauty. "Farewell, my little girl."
"Wait!" I cry, trying to sit up and grunting as I am stopped once more.
The final tendrils of her presence leaves me, taking with it all warmth and comfort she somehow provided. A violent shiver courses through me as I am left feeling colder than I have ever felt before. An unexpected sob erupts from my throat as her body crumbles to the floor, nothing but a pile of dusty bones.
"No!" I scream with a ferocity I can not explain.
A loss I have never felt before claws at my being, digging deeper into my soul than I knew was possible. My heart thrashes in my chest, adrenaline now the only thing keeping me awake. So much is going on, and I can't understand any of it! How could she be here, and then be gone in all the same moment!
"No more!" I screech, on the verge of historical, unable to take one more thing.
Everything stills at once, the silence thick with anticipation. Bodies begin to fall to the floor, returning to the lifeless state they are meant to be in. I watch, but don't truly understand what I am seeing as soon the army of corpses is left unrecognizable. Limbs lay scattered, mingling with parts of other bodies that just moments ago they were fighting against.
"What?" A shrill shriek echoes in the now quiet hall.
I turn to look at the woman, hardly able to make her out as she kicks angrily at the skull of one of her fallen soldiers. I stopped her, at least for now. A small smile pulls at my lips as she continues to wave her hands in the air, shouting words I can not understand.
I let my body fall back against the table, no longer able to keep up the fight. I sigh, coming to peace with my situation. At least my friends will be safe. I turn my attention to them, all standing tall and relatively unharmed.
They really came for me....
I force my eyes to stay open, even as my body wants nothing more than to seep. Their figures blur together as my consciousness wanes. A movement so fast I can not see process it, Damon is at my side.
"Dam-" I try to say his name, but my words dwindle in my throat, no longer having the strength.
"Shhh," He soothes, pushing something into my mouth. "Drink." he commands, keeping it firmly in place even as I try and repel from it.
Thick, warm liquid fills my mouth, my already nauseous stomach making it hard to swallow. I fight through the gagging that threatens to stop me, and force the metallic tasting substance down my throat. In an instance I can feel my breathing coming back to me, my mind clearing as if from a fog.
"We have to go," Damon announces, removing his wrist from my mouth.
I open my eyes, not even realizing that they were closed moments before. I still feel weak, and the world still spins slightly around me, but I no longer feel on the verge of death. My sight now back to normal, my heart leaps as I watch Damon move so close to me. I have been so desperate to see him again, and now here he is.
"Where are-" I start to ask, my voice still hoarse and cracking as I try and speak.
"Safe, we will see them in a moment," He answers, ripping at my bonds with ease, freeing me in one swift motion.
Without a second thought he bundles me in his arms, my body feeling so small and frail in his tight embrace. His warmth wraps around me, promising me safety I don't know if honestly exists. I cling onto the promise though, no longer wishing to fight. My fingers dig into his shirt, needing the reassurance that he is really here. I am not dreaming.
"Wait," I whimper as he turns to run.
"What," he demands, his voice urgent as his grasp on me tightens.
"The bowl," I manage to answer, nodding down at the metal dish that is full of my dark, red blood. Damon stiffens, his hold on me growing almost painfully tight as he looks down at it. His lips tightening into a thin line and his eyes narrowing at it, anger renewing itself on his face. "She can't have it," I finish before leaning into him.
He offers a small nod before bending down and retrieving it, never loosening his hold on me. I feel the wind rush against us as he runs from the building, from the woman who held me captive. The world blurs together, and I can't tell if it's because of Damon's speed or if it's my vision wavering again. I cling to his shirt, to the knowledge that I am in his arms. I close my eyes, letting myself feel safe for just a moment, and drift off to sleep.