It was night, maybe around 2 am. Everything was quiet and I was alone in my bleak room, which was so cold. I never will understand why the air conditioning is turned on even though it is still chilly outside. I had been trying to sleep the entire time but to no success, so in the end I just laid in my bed with my eyes closed, trying to force myself to sleep so I could dream. Images and memories visited my mind as I laid still, steadying my breathing to a slow pace. I didn’t like staying in this room, I had said before that I felt unsafe…I’m not afraid of the dark, but…
I was trying to sleep on my right side, facing the door to my room when I suddenly felt really warm. Just a moment ago I was freezing and this warmth was out of place. Words cannot begin to describe how fast my heart was racing because I didn’t know what was going on. I slowly opened my eyes, careful to stay as still as possible because I wasn’t sure what was happening, careful to not give away the fact that I was awake since I didn’t know what I was dealing with.
But then I knew: it was body heat. There was someone sitting behind me.
I immediately sat up and tried to turn at the same time so I could see who it was, as my eyes had already adjusted to the darkness of the room.
That proved to be a very, very terrible idea I felt as if my side was being repeatedly stabbed by a million little daggers then doused with salt and vinegar. I probably tore my stitches open. I let out a sharp cry and instantaneously crashed back down onto the bed.
Stunned and out of breath, my arm hung limply over the side of the mattress and I squeezed my eyes shut as my body tensed up as a reflex from the pain. As if that would help to ease the hurt and make me feel better.
“Shh, shh,” I heard a voice say close behind me, then my bed shifted and I started to feel warmer than before. I opened my eyes again. In the back of my mind I already had an idea of who I thought it was going to be, but my current conscious was telling me not to hope too much.
“Zac?” I managed to say, pain riddled in my brittle voice; my breathing jagged.
“Yes, Amy, it’s me,” he replied quietly.
I didn’t know what to do. Should I stay where I was? Tell him to leave? Run away? I knew that the latter was impossible considering my condition but I—
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I only came to apologise.”
“Z-Zac—“
“Be quiet,” he suddenly ordered. Feeling scolded, I laid there wordlessly as he started to talk, to explain. He apologised for the attack, he apologised for putting me in a hospital, for almost tearing me to pieces... I quietly accepted every word that came from his lips, but after a while I wasn’t listening to a single word, and he knew that because he stopped after a few minutes.
The room went silent and for a moment I didn’t think he was even there anymore, but I knew that he was because I still felt warm just like before.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a final avowal to his former opening statement.
“I don’t want to hear an apology,” I muttered, before forcing myself to sit up. The pain had started to subside enough for me to move, but it still made me flinch. I turned to face him, to help myself confirm that he really was here with me in this hospital room.
He really was there. Zac was sitting on my bed with his back to the headrest, one leg stretched out on my bed, the other off the side of it with his foot planted onto the floor for balance. I haven’t seen or talk to him in days, and seeing him sitting here so close to me made me feel so comforted.
The moonlight reflected off of his pale form and his green eyes danced underneath the illumination, making him stand out to me more than usual. I studied him for a minute or two, just drinking in the fact that he was within my grasp.
Zac looked at me, worry was written all over his face and I could not help but think that this was not the face of a killer. How could it be? All I could see was kindness and concern.
Folding my legs underneath me in the mermaid style, I leaned over and inched closer to him enough to where our bodies were touching before I stopped to hold my breath. The pain wasn’t letting up anymore, but I didn’t care. I winced and stifled a groan. Returning his glance, I put my hand over his, which were both placed on either side of him on the mattress. It was curious gesture which became bolder as I started to understand what exactly it was that I was doing and what it was that I wanted.
I wanted security, and for what reason I do not know, it needed to come from him. He was the only one who could provide, he was the only one I wanted it from.
My hands slid up across his chest and to his shoulders, where they rested momentarily as I looked into his eyes—hoping that I could read in his face whether or not he minded me. His face was vacant, and before I realised it, I was wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him towards me. A dull but tingling sensation of aches started again on my side and I let out a soft whine, leaning in towards him.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” he said quietly, almost hesitantly, as he watched me grapple over him. “I’m just making you exert yourself more. You’re still so…hurt.”
For whatever reason, that made me panic and I held on tighter, pressing myself against him and trying to pull him nearer to me than he already was. My body was screaming at me and telling me to find another position where my injury would not be at expense, but I tried my best to ignore it.
“Don’t say that!” I cried, louder than what I had intended. My heart accelerated even more after I heard him imply that he might leave me again. So much that I could feel it beating within me, and I was sure Zac could too as my chest was pressed against his. I cannot help that I was frightened by his words…I have felt so miserable for the past few days and from what I can tell, he was one of the things that made me happy.
He did not say anything and finally wrapped his arms around me, careful not to hurt me. But to be honest, even if it did hurt more, I would not have mind. This physical contact felt so soothing, I didn’t want him to let go.
“Where have you been?” I asked, laying my head on his shoulder. “Why did you leave me?” I closed my eyes again and drank in his ever so familiar scent. It was a sweet smell…consisting of laundry and, well, Zac. It was just a distinct smell that I did not know how to describe, but I absolutely loved it.
“Calm down,” he said in a soft but still authoritative tone, referring to my heart. I tried to listen to him but it was hard. He started to rub my back with his hand and after a few moments I was back to a proper condition and my heart wasn’t beating as fast.
“Answer me,” I quietly demanded, lifting my head off his shoulder to look at him straight in the face. “Please…”
“I didn’t leave you…I wanted you to be safe,” he said, his hand steadily going up and down my back in a calming motion that made me feel comfortable and out of harm's way.
“You’re afraid now, aren’t you?” he asked, looking back at me.
“No,” I said hesitantly. Upon hearing his words, I thought back to the attack. I kept my eyes on his to make sure that they were still green, even though I had the feeling that they were not going to change.
I kept my arms wrapped around his neck, my hands gripping onto his shirt in tight little fists that desperately held on. I didn’t want him to get up and leave.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, in such a way that made me feel scolded. I looked down at his chest to avoid eye contact. He sighed.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, keeping my eyes down. “But I am afraid of the other you. The you that has red eyes and a voice that is very deep and distorted.”
I felt almost like a child as I told him that, but it was the truth. I was not afraid of Zachary Fear, I was afraid of the thing that...that merely resembled him. The thing that growled, that had a condescendingly evil air about it, and did not hesitate in attempting to tear me apart out in the open.
“Amy,” he heard him say distantly, as I was lost in thought. “That’s me.”
You? I wasn’t not about to believe that. Though his words did bring me back to reality, they were not convincing. Keeping my lips pressed together, I shook my head.
“You’re arguing with me now?” he said, lowering his head and positioning it to where he could see my face. I leaned back and looked up so we were back to our former positioning. I bit on my bottom lip.
“That is not you,” I said. “I don’t know what that was but it is not you.”
Silence visited us again and we didn’t say anything for a while. Zac’s eyes were off staring at something else in the room, but mine were still focused on his face. It was not awkward between us at all, this closeness combined with this quiet. Almost like we had done this before, but I know we hadn’t.
“I’m possessed,” he finally said, still looking off into a dark corner of my room.
I wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly so I cocked my head to the side, “What?”
He repeated himself, bringing his eyes back to look into mine. “I’m possessed by a demon. I don’t know how it happened or who he is, I just know that I am and that when he takes over…” his voice trailed off and he went quiet, but I knew what he was trying to say.
So this was the face of a man who was possessed by a diabolic entity? Zac with the red eyes was the demon. Zac that attacked me was the demon. A sense of relief came over me and I felt as it I found some closure. I can still trust him.
“How can you say that that is you, when it’s obviously not?” I asked. My voice came out a little more edgy than I had intended.
He shook his head, dropping his arms from me and letting them lay on the bed again. “I just want you to stay away from me. I can’t…I don’t want to hurt you. Look at what I did to you.”
“You didn’t do this to me,” I argued. “The demon did.”
“Amy,” he went on, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them back up again to look at me. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to visit me anymore, or for you to see me at all, for that matter.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Honestly, does he think he can just come to me and say something like that? Like it would just be so easy for him to tell me to leave him alone, to break ties, and I would just do that?
“You’re angry,” he commented, reading my mind once again, I assume.
“You’re damn right that I’m angry,” I snapped, the first time that I have ever talked to him in such a way. “You can’t possibly just come to me after all these days and tell me that I can’t see you again!”
“It’s because of me that you’re in the hospital,” Zac said, keeping his voice on a steady, normal level compared to my rising one.
“It’s because of you that I am alive,” I countered.
“Amy—“
“No! Shut up!” I replied angrily, shoving him away and sitting up impulsively. I recoiled as I felt another shot of pain and I fell back on top of him, groaning. Zac stopped talking and blankly stared at me. I bit my bottom lip before lowering my head to where it was rested against the middle of his chest, embarrassed at my behaviour.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “But no, don’t talk like this. Please stop talking like this.”
“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he said, like he had said before. His hand reached up for my head, patting it gently. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He had repeated those lines so many times, but they weren’t going to convince me of letting him go, of separating us. I can’t stay away from him…
I reached up with both hands and held onto his hand that was still on my head. “You’re not keeping me safe by leaving me,” I softly told him. “You’re hurting me by telling me to leave you alone.”
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“I…don’t know.”
It was an honest answer. I didn’t know. Was my friendship with him this strong? It felt so one sided at this point. I know for sure that I wasn’t in love with him, even though sometimes I doubted myself because the way my feelings played out would have made me think otherwise.
“All right,” he answered.
I looked at him for a second, pursing my lips before moving up and resting my head against his collarbone—carefully positioning myself so that my side would feel as less pain as possible.
“Please don’t leave,” I whispered, begging. I would never admit to this out loud…to tell him that I felt safe when I was with him, to say that he was the one who was going to be able to make me sleep at night. But I’m sure he already knew how I felt anyhow. After all, my thoughts are not private.
“I won’t leave you, Amy,” he said, and I could hint vague amusement in his voice. I wonder if he was smiling because of what I was thinking…
“Where’s my camera?” I asked, suddenly remembering. “And my car?”
“Your camera is in your car, and your car is in the parking garage.”
I nodded weakly, letting myself rest all of my weight onto him. “Thank you for taking care of my stuff,” I said. He didn’t reply, but instead hugged me. I smiled and hugged him back around his waist, lightly tugging at the bottom of his shirt. It was a reassuring position to be in and the warmth that I physically received from his body worked on me like magic, making me sleepy within five minutes of being in his arms.
For the rest of the night, I remained in a fetal position on top of him. Why move when I already felt so much protection? Zac didn’t leave just as he said and stayed with me on the bed in that hospital room until I fell asleep. He left before the nurses got to the room in the morning, leaving me a note in my hands to tell me that he was gone but would come and visit me later. I found my car keys under my pillow.
Later on I would learn that I actually did mess up my stitches and I had to get them redone, much to my dismay. I guess it was okay though, because I was able to walk properly and leave the hospital a few days afterwards, fully equipped with a bottle of painkillers that were going to be my best friends every morning.
My prized scars were ugly to look at. I had observed them a few hours earlier after I was able to remove the bandages. It consisted of three large scratch marks, then two smaller ones on the side. If no one knew any better they would have thought that I was attacked by an animal—which I guess, I was. Thanks to its location though, I won’t really have to worry about anyone seeing this disfigurement.
As I searched the parking garage, trying to find my car so I could go home, I started to backtrack on all that has happened to me in the past few days, weeks, and months. A lot has happened, so much that it was a little mind boggling. All of which revolved around Zac…but it didn’t take me long to know that there were four things of which I was certain.
First, Zachary Fear was indeed a werewolf.
Second, there was a part of him, and I do not know how dominant that part might be, that lusted for blood and nothing else.
Third, I was undeniably and irreversibly fascinated by him.
And fourth, I wanted to help him no matter what the cost. No one deserves to be in his situation, to be possessed and used by something so diabolic and wicked. I don’t know too much about demons but I know enough to where I can figure that being possessed by something unwanted is not what anyone should have to go through.
I wondered how long has he been like this and whether or not he had tried to ask for help. Whatever the answer was, I suppose there was no need for wondering on that now because I was going to see that he is saved.
Zac deserves better and I will try and give him that.
I want to set him free.