Infatuation (PLL Emison AU)

The Balance of Dark and Light

A/N: I know, I know. It's been taking FOREVER. And I'm sorry about the update speed. With everything that's going on *gestures to the state of the world* it's been...yeah. But I assure you I am working very diligently on giving you something I hope you will be proud of in the end. This story has been an incredible journey and I'm sad it's almost over (2ish more chapters, depending on how I split them, and an epilogue). Thank you for staying with me and supporting me, even when I go a little crazy sometimes.

Note: This chapter has gore, violence, and uncomfortable subject matter. I always try to handle such things delicately. But tread carefully.

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Chapter 43:

The Balance of Dark and Light

It had been entirely too long. Months since she'd been deprived. It was as if she had been slowly starving to death. The hunger was overwhelming.

A soothing calmness washed over the blonde as she held her gloved hands steady above the unconscious man.

When she reached for the scalpel a buzzing energy vibrated through her.

Alison.

The blood was calling to her. Her exhilaration was like a fire blooming in the distance. She could smell it. She could taste it. She was a child on a holiday, magic and excitement in the air. She felt like her body was shaking, but the anticipation was hidden by her calm exterior.

Her hands were steady as she pressed the blade against the delicate exposed flesh. Her nimble fingers sliced through the thin skin. She shuddered a heavy breath that filled the quiet room.

The first drop of blood was glorious. Seeing the bright red substance in her control again was like releasing a pressure that had been building in her lungs forever. Seeing it trickle down his body was blissfully euphoric.

It was more than just the blood itself. It was the respect she had for it. Blood was life. It kept hearts beating. It kept organs thriving. It kept the brain alive.

Every time blood was spilled it painted a different picture.

A slow trickle when there was a superficial injury.

A flush of pressure when a needle entered a vein.

Crimson explosions spattering everywhere when an artery had been struck.

She could feel her veins burning with desire. She could feel her blood flowing in time with the beat of her heart. Heat reverberated through her body on a different level...a molecular level. A vibration...a tune that only she could hear. It was a symphony with an audience of one.

She felt her senses come back to life. Being in her element reignited the part of herself she'd been repressing. It made the world fade away. It was just her...and the blood.

Getting back into the swing of things hadn't been that hard. It was like riding a bike. When she was in the zone, the horrors of her childhood were sucked into a dark abyss. Darren Wilden and all of the other horrible people she'd killed were just little insignificant specks. And Alex Drake disappeared. The bitch was nothing...nowhere.

Because Alison had survived. Alex was dead. And Alison was still alive...her blood pumping...keeping her connected to the world.

Alison continued cutting, pushing the scalpel deeper, her motions pristine and precise.

She told a story when she had a blade in her hand.

Her hands were the artist and the scalpel was her paintbrush. She cut, her instincts guiding her. Her mind was quiet and peaceful, detached as she watched herself work.