Swan Song || The Lost Boys - & The One Who Found Them...

Chapter XIII ~ ᛇ (Eihwaz) Part II - Pale Tortured Blue

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           [ Warning: Sexual Content/
    Overdose of Romance & Sweetness... ]

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Massive raindrops fell out of the night sky when Dwayne & I eventually arrived at the abandoned prison. The winds had picked up & swept across the still sleeping landscapes of Santa Carla with a ferocious roar & toward the open sea where they gave birth to gigantic waves; I could hear their heavy bodies slam into the nearby cliffs over & over again.
Once we hovered above the watchtower - which was also Dwayne's second home - the vampire tightened his hold on me & took a header, plunging through the opening in the ceiling & decelerating gradually until he almost quietly landed on the wooden floor.

It was pitch-dark inside the room that I remembered generously illuminated by multiple candles & oil lamps during my last visit, & the few little beams of moonlight that had found their way through the clouds wouldn't bring much of a change either.
Before I could give my eyes any time to adjust I felt Dwayne's arms grow loose around me as he drew away again, much to my displeasure. I couldn't stand being alone in the dark for the life of me.

" Dwayne, why--?? "

" Stay right here. "

I heard a low whistle & a swoosh! that sounded much like a parachutist descending to land, & when I spun around to make out the noise's source a dull thud from above echoed throughout the room, nearly scaring me to death.
My eyes climbed towards the ceiling where they expected to see the open window & along with it a piece of the night sky, but right now there was nothing except for total darkness. Someone had closed the window.

I remained right where Dwayne had dropped me, anxiously gazing around even though wherever I looked, my surroundings were the same: dark. Deafening silence befell the place, a silence unlike any other. Neither the sound of raging waves, nor the howling of the winds could reach me in here; not even the pitter-patter of rain on the roof. The walls of this watchtower were massive enough to cancel any kind of noise…

Discomfort started to gnaw at my innards & I took a deep breath to regain some of my rapidly dwindling calm.
" Dwayne..? "

" I'm here. "

The sound of a match being ignited shattered the silence, a small yet bright flame fighting its way through the seemingly impenetrable wall of darkness & already enough to illuminate a large section of the room. The one holding the match was none other than Dwayne, his tall frame moving toward the table to light the candles that adorned it.
Slowly but surely, candle after candle, he breathed more & more light into the room, revealing it's surprisingly inviting interior.
Nothing had changed since my last visit.

I felt a new sense of calm take over me as I watched Dwayne swiftly move from one corner to the other until most of the candles had come to life, however that moment of peace faced a sudden end when I realized what awful condition he was in.

His normally flowing silken hair was all stringy & wet, almost as if he had just come back from a long swim, his leather jacket was ripped apart in various places & covered in mud, some of it already dry & on the verge of crumbling. Stains of blood were scattered widely across his chest which I could perfectly see due to his open jacket; some small, others larger. Meanwhile his hands were literally drenched in it, with small drops trickling onto the wooden tiles below.
Gasping for air I planted my own hand against my cheek where Dwayne had cupped my face earlier, feeling the moisture underneath my fingertips.
In the by now generous light of at least 20 candles I could see the still warm blood in my palms, its texture strangely viscid & emitting a bitter scent.
But what mystified me the most was its colour.