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CHAPTER EIGHT ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴄᴀʀs
The scars were like tiny silver moons on my skin, punctured in pretty pale ink against paper white skin. It felt wrong that they looked so beautiful, so delicate in the crescent shape. It was wrong. They represented the immobilising moves that first were made to pull me away from the speed of my run, and second to rip my head from atop of my shoulders. These were the first of such marks that I'd ever received, and I had the imminent feeling that it would not be the last.
Not now that William was fresh on my trail.
The inane irrationality that I suffered, brought a deep self-hatred from within. It was not that William had been able to sink his teeth into my hard flesh, but the fact that he'd found me at all, that bothered me so. It had only happened twice before, both times of which had been in extraordinary circumstances that were highly unlikely to ever occur again.
The first time had been in London, just short of the new year of 1901. My clothes were out of date by a few years in terms of my northern hometown, but in the big, bustling capital, my skirts and blouses may have been from foreign countries centries ago. Needless to say, I stuck out like a shore thumb with the dullness of my clothes against the ostentatious designs, all top-heavy and s-shaped, moulded by corsets and again intensified by full-backed petticoats. Sumptuous silks and satins, chiffon and damask filled the smoggy streets, painted in colours of soft reds and blues and greens.
Ironically, the only thing about me that did not stand out, was the sickly pallor of my skin. The frailness that often equated with illness was by no means uncommon, with many ladies powdered to a point of solidness.
It was at a Sunday market, that William first set eyes on me. The markets along the Thames riverside reminded me of my mother. The last Sundays of the month were often the days we'd travel into town, looking around the bustling markets the county over by the River Tyne. I don't know how he'd spotted me. Even with my heightened senses, I didn't detect him until it was too late. I guess I'd blocked all thought of him from reach.
Despite the inhuman elegance of his walk, the god-like superiority that he radiated. Despite the moon-light colour of his skin, which almost glowed in the dim fog, the polished, out of time clothes that he wore. Despite the red luminosity of his eyes. Despite all of that, no one looked at William. Not one turn of a head. He had a curious way of blending in, becoming so normal looking within the crowd, as if his higher beauty had no effect, no meaning.
He stared at me with those cruel, crimson eyes and I shook with a vehemence that threatened to snap my unbreakable bones. Pure feer bubbled within me. All I could remember of him was the selfish cruelty that hid behind his expression, the blood later dripping from his lips. My blood.
A sickening smile formed, not moving an inch of his skin from perfection. The look on his face was pure ecstasy. I was alive, just like he'd wanted, not as he'd thought. And, like a cheater racing to reach his golden prize, William sprinted toward me, little more than a blur in the wind, a hand connecting with the base of my waist another with the outline of my chin.
