A delicate mellow tune brushed his ears, his sleep figure rousing, with a crumbled brow and a crinkling of his nose. Soft nimble fingers on firm muscular skin, dancing a rhythm that he had memorized several times over, the swift and careful movements like a ballet. A humming that could rival the songbirds and a touch that could awaken the dead, well—but, not in this case. He was very much unconscious, and it proved to be more fickle than most.
Deep rosy brown eyes gazed upon the chiseled jaw of the man as if he was carved out by Gods, punishing men and women alike with his grace and statuesque build, his face as if it were fallen from heaven, his lashes long and brushing his high cheekbones, a strong square jaw that promised a heart striking stab if he smiled or smirked or laughed. A soft gulp followed as hands dampened his skin with a cloth, focusing on the task at hand once more. The humming resuming once more.
A cage held his mind captive. His depleted frame slumped over himself, filthy, stained in sorrow, lost in his own self staring at cold hard concrete floors that held his chains. On his knees he stayed awaiting his one release, his one saving grace... the lights they had come back... the sweet melody like the finest silk ever woven, had wrapped itself around his head, penetrating his ears with their alluring poison. His brilliant blue eyes met the spotlight that flashed with a searing brilliance. His jaw hung loose like it always did, and she finally appeared.
He would have called her a beauty or a shining star, but alas she had no face to speak of, only a sweet humming that accompanied the delicate tips of her toes as she spun a dance that lured him into a trance, he was enamored, her bewildering voice was something only witnessed in the finest of places, it was a wonder to him why she would be entertaining his pitiful audience when she could be performing for crowds of thousands. He could no longer keep being so far from her, she had serenaded him for countless days and nights, she had been the very thing that had congested his every dream, every thought, every second, and his every single waking moment of his bittersweet imprisonment. He had foolishly fallen for the charming woman who he knew nothing of. She only hummed, a few words slipping precariously from her lips from time to precious time, but that was all that he received from her. Nothing more.
She twirled her glittering image around as she skipped and flew and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and sung louder, a crescendo that struck his chest with several skilled arrows, all of them missing his heart to frame it in a wicked display of her dominance over his life. She had stolen every part of him, he was hers but the tears rolled down his cheeks at the fear of never being able to hold her or touch her or see her, for she was only a mirage brought to life by his dying mind... each time she appeared her image was fleeting and he trembled to think of the moment when she would fade away forever and take his soul with her.
She wiped the tear from his cheek and sighed as she finished her song, aside from his tears, he had not been responsive for four days now, and they were no closer to waking him. It angered her that such a lovely man had to be rendered into a still and painfully beautiful shell of himself. She put away the cloth and towel used to clean him and dressed him back with a wave of her hand before she walked away from his room, flicking the candle off before she shrouded his room in darkness once more.
》》》》》
“It’s been days Madame, do you think he’ll be alright?” Her meek but patient voice asked. Madame’s hazel eyes looked over the young girl and she shook her head. “I’m not certain Asha, but I will ask for your assistance again.”
Asha gulped. “A—again Madame?”
She nodded. “Again Asha, I need you to get inside of his head and pull him out."
She began a game with her pointer fingers, rolling them around as her nerves surfaced her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “But—but I barely got anything from him the last time, just a glittering light. Madame, please... I’m still trying very hard to reign in control of my ability, and it’s quite difficult. Maybe—umm, maybe Ezor could use his—.”
“Necromancy won't work!” her voice rose, and Asha cringed. Madame sighed and touched the young girl’s shoulder in apology. "Sorry, but Ezor cannot help here.. Our guest is not dead yet, but if he remains in this suspended state then he will be.” She sighed “I know it’s hard,”
“B—but—.”
“But if you do not practice then you will never be able to properly utilize the full potential of your power. Mind control is challenging Asha and delving into the mind is a very important part of your ability, albeit tricky, but you mustn’t stop practicing. He will be your task until otherwise. The clock is ticking fast for this one, Asha. You need to tell us now if you will be able to save him or not.” Madame’s eyes were calming but hard in the very same instance and they did little to quell the worries of Asha.
“I understand Madame Waylynn, I—I will do my best.”
“Maybe I could try." Said Bix, his dark eyes hard and his forehead creased with his brows pointed downwards, making Asha puff out her cheeks and narrow her gray eyes. He smirked. "You know what I mean, I could use some water magic to dip into his subconscious... or I could always get rid of him with a simple fireball." He flicked his finger and displayed a mini inferno in his palm that made Asha shiver. His lips a sinister grin as he warped the small ball of flames around his digits in a show of pageantry. Asha gulped and shank away to which Madame Waylynn stood before her and folded her arms, her eyes finding him, his eyes went wide and he gulped, his magic fizzling away before he hid his hands at his back. He stood straighter and didn't dare lose eye contact with her.
"You will do as you're told Bixly, and you do not have permission to touch or kill this man. He is of no threat to us."
The fire reclaimed his eyes and he snapped. "He is a hunter Madame!"
A sharp silver flashed silenced him and he stood aghast. "He is not as malicious as your intentions Bix!" She exhaled heavily, eyes focused, muscles tense even as she settled herself. "Leave before you make me regret something I rather not." He swallowed down his heart, a trembling hand slipping into his pockets before he rushed off the way he came. His fuming words of upset a low murmur as to not gain her attention.
Asha stood there shaken and unsure of what she just witnessed. The dizzying moment making her knees buckle. She fell against the wall, now all alone in the hallway that held the room of the man that she was meant to save. Lifting her head, she swallowed what little was left of her strength and stared at the strangers' bedroom door for however long before she blinked to refresh her eyes. She wasn't sure what she should do. Madame Waylynn had vanished from sight before she could even take notice and so had Bix. She swallowed and turned her head from left to right at the vacant hallways that greeted her. Her eyes lifted to the door. Should she?
An uncertain hand reached for the brass doorknob and she turned it carefully as to not stir the creaking sounds that it usually would make. When it was cracked open just enough, she slide her slender body through, and shut the door gently, her thin fingers pressed against the smooth wooden surface as she took a careful breath. She stood back from the door, gulping as she took in the man's unconscious disposition. Her hands wrung the fabric of her skirt, she had been trying her hardest to work her magic but she could not breach his mind, it was like a fortress for she could only see the surface because everything else was dark... fuzzy even... he was a blank night waiting for the sunrise to color him in a rainbow of spectral wonder. He seemed paler each day, and he was sweating again, she waved her hand, opening the window to the left of his bed to let in some cool midday breeze. She had been one of the few people who tended to him while he stayed in his comatose state, and she had seen his strength dwindling in very steady increments whenever she gazed upon his face. "Oh, sir... I am such a useless Witch. I cannot even find out your name, yet it's been days since you collapsed in the forest... I am so, so sorry that I cannot help you any more than I'm already doing. Mind control is so troublesome... and your mind is so stubborn... maybe if you could understand that I was only meant to save you from the arms of death, maybe then you'd give up your hold on your mind and let me in." She had come to the head of his bed, her knee pressing to the mattress near his right shoulder before her cautious fingers brushed away tendrils of his dark golden hair. The pads of her fingertips pressing to either side of his temples. Her lips parting to allow a soft chant out before her eyes rolled back into a stark spell, her back arching away as she threw herself into the depths of his mind. His lips quirked downwards, missing her sights as she fought against the obscure thickness blanketing his subconscious. "Show me, come, sir... please let me see." She whispered. She pressed harder to his forehead. His eyes squinted tighter. She battled against his barriers that kept her only so far away, she could not leave this room with anything less than progressive. She had to show her superior that she was capable of using her magic, that she was not just a young girl trying to be something she was not. She groaned as she viciously clawed away at his defenses, her muscles crying, her body trembling, blood seeping from her eyes, her left nostril... she could not stop. His lips parted, an inaudible grunt leaving as she dug in deeper. Her fingers delved into his skin like a ghost walking through walls. He screamed, but she could no longer hear the outside world, she had to keep on. He had to let her in! He needed to let her save him.
The door was thrown open slamming against the wall, three persons ran in, Madame Waylynn stopped the two others with her arms outstretched. The man on the bed screaming and Madame eyes ran with tears as she heard his voice for the first time ever... in agony. It broke some part of her. The other person, his jaw loose at seeing his dear sweetheart stricken and wrapped in an aura of powerful magical energy that seemed to dazzle the observer.
Asha's fingers lowered, nearing her knuckles as she could finally see something, just a little more beyond the glittering light, a spotlight, illuminating only one specific part of a wooden floor, she could not understand it. She needed to see more... he would not escape her this time. The man's toes curled and released as his body began to arch from the mattress, but Asha was fully submerged into his mind, she was finally seeing past his walls. Blood ran from her face, dripping onto the peach-colored fabric of her blouse, staining the cloth, darkening it with the steady flow of her blood. She dug around, her silver eyes wide as she searched for more beyond the light, a cage. She gasped and pushed forward seeing the wooden floorboards fade away into smooth concrete, she was nearly there, her body was struggling to go further but her fingers went deeper surpassing her knuckles and the man cried, his anguish tearing at his observing caretaker's heart with every cord of volume he used to paint his pain. She gripped the arm of Madame Waylynn as tears dripped from her chin, but her screams faded into the rooms space.
Asha heard something, a woman's voice, the soft tones that reached out and caressed her cheek, they were warm, welcoming, she allowed her eyes to flutter close but her mistake came with a punishment—a crack of lightning lashed at her and a wailing thunder tore through her and she went crashing backward her hands removed from his person by the very hands that she felt touch her face. A cry left Reedley's mouth as he jumped over the fallen figure of Madame Waylynn and caught Asha in his strong grasp, him and the girl falling to the floor, her body going limp in his protective arms.
Trembling hands came to his face, seeing the burnt marks Asha left in her wake and sobbing as their guest screamed. She tried to calm him, but she could not utter a tune with her sobs shaking her body so violently. Footfall rushed up the stairs.
Worried eyes examined his face, his body before he flew upright from his slumber. She jerked away, his startling blue eyes shocking her very core and she fumbled over her feet and collapsed on the floor, spilling the oil lamp at her feet. A sharp breath and those very eyes that she wondered of for days took in her scattered state. "Oh my God, are you... are you alright?" his rough voice, evident of his parched throat, his large, callus hands stretched out to her and her heart raced to the beat of a ticking clock. She held her chest as if it would have exploded from just his eyes—his voice, what a wonderful ballad of vocal cords, deep enough to rouse her senses but gentle enough to wet a palate that hungered for more. She did not take his hand, fear keeping her frozen. "Madame!" Ezor cried as four more persons arrived at the entrance but their worry fleeted away as soon as they saw the scene that had unfolded within the room.
"My word... he's awake," Bisca muttered, brushing back her red hair.
YOU ARE READING
The Hunter's Vampire {Re-writing}
VampireFOREWARNING: Book is currently being edited/rewritten, so please bear with me as updates will take longer. Thank you. A vicious nature, a hunger for life, with the taste for adventure. Two species, from two worlds, shall collide. Hunter, meet your...
