Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

23

The reflection of the ambulances' lights could be seen across the road by the lake, from the house on the cliff. In the guest room at the second floor, Ian Blake stood before the window, watching them glow under the low clouds. When the lights faded away in the woods, he glanced down at the empty glass of wine on a small table by the window. There was a silver dagger right by the glass. Black took it with a grave frown and slid the blade across the palm of his left hand. His eyes darted out the window again, while he clenched his cut hand and held it in a fist over the glass, making his blood drip into it. For a moment his look focused on his own face reflecting on the window and the red glow burning in his eyes.

A soft knock on the door behind him disturbed his musing.

"Come in," he said, without raising his voice.

He produced a handkerchief and covered the cut in his hand before turning to Markus.

"Did we underestimate her yet again?" Blake asked softly.

Markus stood in the middle of the room, halfway between the window and the door. "We had no way to predict this outcome. Any other hunter would've kept civilians out of it."

"Well, looks like she's not 'any other hunter', but rather... resourceful, wouldn't you say?" Blake smiled at Markus' troubled grimace. "C'mon, my boy, cheer up. It's not the end of the word—yet. This doesn't affect our plans."

"But... How are we gonna keep it safe here now, sir?"

"The moonflowers would've provided us with the perfect hideaway, that's true. But we can still keep it safe here when the time comes. I'll send a few of my kin to assist you. And it'll be up to you to keep them... contented."

"I will, sir!"

"I know. However, first we need to have it, don't we, my boy?"

Blake grabbed the glass of wine holding his blood and handed it over to Markus, scoffing at his widening eyes.

"Told you I would give you something for this journey, didn't I?"

"Y-yes. But this is an honor I don't—"

"Drink, Markus."

Markus took the glass with both hands, closed his eyes and drank the thick, drack liquid down to the last drop. Blake flashed a tight smile when he exhaled, licking his lips. Markus met Blake's eyes with an exultant smile. Blake's hand reached out to catch the glass at the same time Markus' face cracked into a grimace of surprised pain. Blake let him fall to his knees, groaning, while he set the glass back on the small table by the window.

"Sir...?" gasped Markus behind him, suffocating a cry.

"It's okay, my boy. Told you that you'd need time to handle my gift, didn't I."

Markus bent over himself, an arm around his belly and his other hand grasping his own chest. It was like a fire spreading from his stomach, running through his veins, burning him up inside. The pain was excruciating. Blake's voice was a distorter murmur in his humming ears.

"Don't fight it, my boy. Let it work on you."

Markus crumbled down on his side, squirming in agony.

"Please, sir! Make it stop!"

He wanted to say it, to scream it, but he wasn't sure he actually did. Blake looked down at him with his mild smile and did nothing. Markus heard himself moan as he rolled over, the pain clouding his mind. He tried to reach out to Blake and ask him for help again.

Blake didn't move. But he smiled wider at the red glow in Markus' eyes.