resurfacing threats

Those at the mercy of a monster do not get to bargain.

For when they dare try,

they simply continue to bleed.

― Ella Fields, A King So Cold

The key makes a scratching sound against the metal lock, as I miss it just by a hair, distracted in thought, and already running late for the shift at the bar. Well, the boss was going to love this, as it would provide him with a wide arsenal of semi-snide comments for the entire night. Though, I can’t say that I will have as much fun as he probably will, low chances of that. If only I didn’t dose off after an afternoon visit at the hospital, deciding to spread myself on the bed for just a moment. But the sheets seemed so comfortable and welcoming, calling me in with open arms. Mmm, I lost that battle without remorse.

Plus, it didn’t help that I spent the morning on babysitting duties as Cara had a doctor’s appointment scheduled. Her original visit shifted from next week, due to a last-minute cancelation. Otherwise, she would have her neighbor taking care of Emily later on. But the woman was currently out of town and would be coming back in the dead of night.

My thoughts absentmindedly shift some time back as I struggle with the damn lock.

____

You could have just paid some cash broke teen to do it.

Yeah, sure. Because Molly did so well last time, eating out my fridge from all the good stuff, even though she states to be on a permanent diet. Increasing my phone bill while talking with her yet another new boy-joy, and causing my baby a sugar rush that wouldn’t calm down until 2 a.m. Oh yes, Elle, that was so much fun.

She emphasizes the “fun” word for effect, and I shrug my shoulders, lifting Emily with a smile. The domestic drama was not my thing. I could barely take care of myself; putting other human beings with me in my own four walls would just be a haphazard situation. Very non-profiting. I smile and move a golden strand of hair from Emily’s face, watching her mouth spread out into a wide grin as she pats my cheek as if I was some well-behaved pup of hers. Judging by the appearance, it would probably have to be an unfed, chocolate brown retriever, with fleas.

Well, at least you mostly work from home, so it doesn’t happen a lot. I knew you being in an art school would pay off eventually, though it took you long enough.

My stare shifts from her to the hallway. Where a few big and medium-size paintings are neatly covered and packed. Waiting for the delivery guy to pick them up for a gallery that ordered from Cara at least twice a month or more, depending on their needs. She was so gifted, providing beautiful interiors even when we were flat broke. Decorating each shabby wall and surface with her paintings and little hand made treasures found at yard sales or bargains that hardly anyone knew about. I smile as my eyes slide slowly to a bright wooden desk in the living room, placed practically by the window to attract the most light possible. An impressive pinboard, hanging high next to it and taking up the larger part of the neighboring wall, filled with hand drew sketches and her printed out graphic designs. I purse my lips at all the wicker baskets stuffed under it, containing Emily’s toys. Chaotic and organized at the same time, just like Cara. I inhale gently and gaze back at the little girl in my arms, my smile growing wider.

Now, what do you say, Em? Isn’t Molly just the greatest? The babysitter of the year. I think she deserves a sparkling tiara.

The little girl scrunches her nose, not enjoying the thought, and then patting me all knowingly, this time on the head. Speaking in soft whispers as if it was an obvious truth that only I wasn't aware of.

I like you more.

Something very small jumps in my heart, tickling it in the strangest ways. Causing me to blink a few times before shifting my head to the side where my friend is standing, already putting on the shoes and finding her bag.

I knew it, Cara. She is just as bad a judge of character as you are.

I hear a snort behind and turn around.

Hush woman, either way, you are looking after her today. So just embrace it, love.

Fine, but you’re paying me in food that Molly hasn’t been able to suck out of your fridge and cupboards.

Hey, as long as it’s not in nature, I can even bring take-outs.

My eyes narrow slightly, and I lift my chin higher with dignity.

You don’t know what you’re missing, the rattle of my bones would have got you into a state of bliss.

Mmm, mmm. Well, my loss. You know how I love to play with ill mouthed skeletons under the sheets.

Emily’s teddy bear that I swiftly pick up from a near dresser hits her over the head, and she snorts again, even louder this time. She walks to the door, opening it quickly but then turning around just before leaving.

No matter the bone rattle, you are always beautiful. Don’t ever forget it.

I stare at her a bit surprised, a faint blush coloring my cheeks. She grins and adds just before her face disappears behind the door.

Besides, with the appetite that you have, soon you won’t fit into my child’s clothes anymore. I’m serious, Elle. You need to return them.

She sticks out her tongue and vanishes into the hallway, leaving me with a slowly spreading smile and a sense of warmth in my chest. I look down at my newly acclaimed niece and exhale gently. I loved them both so much. It was a miracle I got to have so much good in my life after everything that I have done.

Come on, Em. Let’s call our own boy-joy and see what he’s up to. Plus, I will teach you to count, using all the nurses deeply infatuated in mister Evans. How does that sound? Do you feel like numbers?

She debates for a moment, not too enthusiastic.

And if there will be Cocco-puffs for breakfast?

That peaks her attention instantly. She lets me know to let her down and walks over to her table, getting a plastic calculator, and looking all efficient and professional. Ah, bribery for educational reasons, I was getting good at this, excellent parenting skills in the making.

_____

Still struggling with the key, I finally manage to do it right, exhaling just before I run down the stairs, rushing as fast as I can, using a few shortcuts to grab some time, and walking through several alleys and more shady background. Not that it bothered me much. With everything going on in my life, I didn’t even take my time to blink about it. I pass a dumpster while my ears pick up some scratching noises, jumping a bit only to see a stray grey cat run by my legs. My head shakes as I think of my false bravado from just seconds before. Honestly.

I pick up the pace, my heavy boots hitting the ground with energy, hands rolled into fists, determination growing. And just as the traffic noises come into focus again, I bump into a hard body with a painful impact. Stumbling back a bit and letting out air that was just knocked out of my chest. I look up, blinking surprised. Very quickly, all the blood drains from my face as I gaze at the tall, well-built man around 6′3 feet, blocking my way. Not moving, just staring. There was something wrong with him, his body too still, too calm. No emotions on his face, maybe just a faint sign of satisfaction as if... My breathing speeds up momentarily. As if he found exactly what he was looking for. Move a few steps back, I bump into a brick wall behind me, fear crawling slowly up my spine, and tightening my throat. If he was just some regular creep, I would have handled him just fine. Despite my currently rather weak physic, I could have taken him on, defending myself and then running away. I knew how to take care of myself, life was brutal, and you had to be always prepared, no matter the circumstances. But this guy - I knew that empty stare, and have seen those kinds of cold eyes before in other people. No.

I’m sure you know who I am.

No, I... don’t.

My voice quivers as I snug deeper into the wall.

Have it your way, but there’s a message for you.

Time seems to stand still for a moment as nothing happens. Only dead silence in the freezing cold, like cracking sounds of ice on the surface of the lake, just before everything snaps. And then he reaches her before she can even flinch, grabbing the neck and lifting her in the air, legs dangling in nothingness, toes barely touching the cold ground.

His tone is almost emotionless when he speaks. And it’s a surprise that she even hears it as she fights desperately for oxygen, fingers, and nails slipping against the tight grasp. Clawing frantically at his knuckles with both hands until drops of blood start to appear, heated wounds coloring his light brown skin. Yet none of that causes much of a reaction from him while she fights for her dear life. And through the sounds of the lungs crying and muscles burning, she hears his voice like a razor, sharp as steel, piercing her terrified thoughts.

You have been holding on rather well, Eleonore. Haven’t you now?

Well, it’s time to come home. We’re waiting.

He stares at her as she fights for a cough to keep her lungs movings and not suffocating right there, right at this moment.

Message delivered. Message received. Yes?

She struggles to even swallow, her stare turning blurry through the tears, head spinning. But she fights it and finally manages to nod with her last resources. He lets her go instantly, and she falls to the ground, hitting the pavement and slipping flat to the ground. All she sees under her closed eyelids are faded colors and countless stars. He picks her up to a sitting position and fixes her jacket straight with two strong pulls, then dusts some dirt of it, satisfied.

Good. There you go. All done.

He crouches and grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him, searching her eyes to check if she will make it out alive. She coughs harshly, trying to breathe normally, more tears strimming down her flushed face. He nods and lets her go, letting her body push life back into the lungs as they treat to explode in her chest, tearing her apart to shreds. She hears him get up and stand there for a second or a two, lingering.

See? That wasn’t so hard.

His voice is almost bare of all emotions, more like a child reading out an empty phrase at school, not really understanding its meaning. Just repeating familiar sounds. Then suddenly, he speaks again, surprising her with his low tones, a faint hint of fear slipping through his hard and empty shell exterior.

They are not someone you want to mess around with or run away from, especially him.

She looks up, her neck strained, a definite sign of multicolored bruises on their way. She rubs it and starts coughing again as the man stands with his back to her, head slowly turning around, the streetlamps showing off the sharp profile and a dangerous thick grin.

That one has crazy rotting deep in his blood, his shadow is always around. Beware of it at all times.

She flinches, pulse moving faster as she knows exactly which one of the two men he meant, the one that saw her as nothing more than worthless filth on the ground. Just a mockery of her own kind. Alister. Her body starts to shake as the man exists the dark alley without any rush, perfectly at ease again.

Slowly, she lets herself up, using the dirty wall behind for some balance as she stumbles on her way, shivering. Fingers trembling while she opens her bag and struggles to find the cellphone. Once she has it, it falls out of her hand and hits the ground with the sound of the glass window breaking in half. Damn it. She curses more under her breath and picks it up. It doesn’t matter. She hits a number from the speed dial and waits for the connection, massaging the neck and stiff muscles, feeling as if she just got hit by a fucking truck. She will need a scarf or some better covering clothes later on. Eventually, someone picks up; a lot of noises in the background, indicating a busy night.

Tennessee Joe’s. This is Tracy. How can I help?

I hear a girl shout out through the noise while from the sounds of it, probably managing a lot of other stuff as well, her tones both polite and urgent. I strain my memory to connect a face to the name. Mmm, Tracy, the current head waitress hired some time ago, not that long after I started. I was there only 3 nights a week, and often her shifts didn’t match mine, so it tended to still slip me sometimes. How ironic. Before all the supernatural stuff and other tragedies, I had a great memory, details like that rarely slipping my mind. But I was a different person now, so defected and crumbled. I sigh while my throat scratches mercilessly.

Hey, Tracy. It’s Eleonore.

I croak out as my head starts to pound, and a small sharp pain attacks my side, probably a fractured rib as well on the list of claims.

Oh hi, Elle. What’s going on? Because we are having one hella of a buzz here. We had a bigger fight about an hour ago, late delivery, and on top of it all, a large stream of Japanese clients on an international business adventure. Some American company was making sure they had a good time. I tell you, Elle. The only time when our folk tip well, is when they show off to them rich types, already counting their profits in Lamborghinis and new trophy wives.

She takes a moment to catch a breath, and it’s the exact spot when I quickly chime in while holding my side with the other hand, slowly pacing as the girl lets out her steam.

Uhm, Tracy. I need to talk to Phil for a second. It’s important.

Oh sure, no problem. I have to run anyway. When you come over, I will let you know about the new boxing class I sign myself up for. That trainer better know more about his game, because the last one was a let down. I tell you, one of these days...

I clear my throat, while another pain shots through my muscles, causing me to cough into the phone.

Uh oh, are you alright there? Sorry, I have been rambling like I have been hit over the head too hard. I will get Phil, hold on.

I still manage to roll my eyes despite the pulsating pain. That girl was sure something. But I liked her, I didn’t have to say much to keep up a conversation and took her chatter as calming background noise after a while when I learn that often she didn’t expect me to answer. My mind regains some clarity as details about Tracy come slowly into focus; blond, short hair, tanned, with a bit of an attitude that did not stop her from being capable and efficient. Slim, but with a lean build, strong. Though very feminine under the rough exterior, she often displayed.

After about two minutes, I hear a crack on the line and relax a bit.

Hey there, kiddo. Why is your lovely yet annoying behind not here yet? Do I need to call a limo for you, or do you still remember how to use a bus?

I would say something snide in response but was too tired and stressed after what just happened. Besides, even his sarcastic replies for me had a comforting warmth to it. I couldn’t even fight him when he was like that with me. It was like trying to shout at your favorite, always kind-hearted uncle. It was nearly impossible.

Phil, I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight, but I will be there on the next shift in two days. Okay?

Elle? You sound awful, what...

His voice becomes weary and loses all the easy banter from just seconds before.

I’m fine. I just don’t feel too well, must have caught a bug or something. I'm probably spending too much time within the hospital instead of a bar.

Mmm, alright. Hope you get better soon.

Okay, boss.

And maybe then you will tell me a more authentic version. Closer to the truth.

I open my mouth to say something but then close it again. I was too tired to pretend to him. Sometimes, I was too tired to even open my eyes, choosing the nightmares instead of reality, just so I wouldn’t have to face anyone or anything. But luckily on most days, I managed to drag myself out of bed.

Yes.

My voice turns softer.

I will try.

Well, then it’s good enough for me. Get some rest, kiddo.

I hang up and slowly move back to my place, which thankfully is not far away from me. After a few minutes, I stumble back to the apartment and almost fall into my bed instantly after the lock in the door shuts close. My body curling up into a ball, laying under all the covers and blankets that I had after I manage enough effort to swallow a few painkillers on the way. My throat burning as if I just swallowed broken glass. Alister and his minions. With Jeremiah somewhere in the sidelines. They’re getting closer. It was just a matter of time before...

My muscles strain from the determination building inside of me. I wasn’t done yet, you assholes. Not yet. Just fucking try me. My mind eventually drifts off into slumber, exhaustion mixing with chaotic thoughts. He can’t see the damage. He has enough worries as it is. It’s the last cautious thought before I lose focus, Charlie’s name hushing me into sleep. My safe harbor when everything failed.

______

https://theprose.com/post/230936/with-all-my-senses ( the beginning )

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32. https://theprose.com/post/382212/those-wounded-and-fighting