Story/chapter title inspired by: "Uneternal Sleep" by Akira Yamaoka (Silent Hill 3 soundtrack).
Chapter Eleven:
"Hello?! Can anybody hear me?!" A young woman shouted, using her fists to pound viciously on the thick, wooden door. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Her knuckles were beginning to bruise; even when she started to sob, she didn't want to let up incase somebody did come along to release her from the room.
When her energy waned, she decided to stop to catch her breath. Instead, she spun around, scrutinizing her surroundings once more. The room where she was held in was mostly barren, except for a bed and a desk. The rest of the room itself was in ruins: the wallpaper was torn in places where one could see the boards beneath. Dust covered some areas, desperately needing someone to polish.
The young woman had already searched high and low, attempting to find some sort of weakness within the structure, but to no avail. Whomever or whatever is keeping her here made sure she had no way of escaping.
Not that any "normal" means could easily harm a vampire, or more specifically, a monster like Thomas Eichhorst.
The young woman let out a frightened gasp as she heard the lock being undone to her door. She took a few steps back, preparing charge past whoever was on the other side; friend or foe.
As soon as the door opened wide enough, the young woman sprinted as fast as she could to it, but her assailant had easily anticipated such a feat, and backhanded her hard enough to send her flying in the opposite direction. She cried out in pain, hitting the floor hard.
"Such a valiant effort," said Eichhorst, stepping further into the room and shutting the door behind him. "Unfortunately, I do not intend for you to leave this room alive."
The young woman crawled backwards along the floor, rubbing her painful, tingling cheek. The tears that ran down her face further increased the stinging sensation on her skin.
Eichhorst's lips twisted into a cruel smile, leering down on his prey with such horrible intentions. He relished in her fear. He could hear her heartbeat quickening with each and every breath she took. The blood pumping through her veins only increased his desire for her; his burning hunger. He took slow, predatory steps, each one bringing him closer to his meal.
The young woman's crawl came to an abrupt end when her back hit against the bed. She exhaled frighteningly, cowering as he drew closer. She started to whimper, "N-no...no. No...please..."
He stopped in front of her. "Stand up," he commanded. She didn't move. She was either too afraid to do anything or his words just fell on deaf ears. "Stand up," he said more aggressively.
The young woman hesitantly peered up at him with swollen, red eyes. "Wh...what...what are you-" He cut her off by grabbing the hem of her blouse and hauling her roughly to her feet, as if trying to get a ragdoll to stand on its boneless limbs.
"Did I tell you to speak?" Said a disgruntled Eichhorst. "I do not believe I did." He took a hand and pinched her cheeks together, causing her lips to pucker. "Another word out of you, and I'll rip that tongue out. Do you understand this?" Through her hics of sobbing, the young woman nodded accordingly.
Eichhorst smiled contently. "Gut..." he purred.
The young woman which he had acquired was a very beautiful creature. Long, soft, wavy blonde curls that stopped halfway down her back. Her hair was much lighter than Claire's, but this did not bother him. What did irk him, however, were the woman's eyes. The young woman standing before him had dark brown eyes, not blue; not like himself, and not like Claire.
This made him sneer in contempt. He distinctively asked for a young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes; only half of that order was correct. A part of him wanted to remedy that little situation, by placing his palms on either side of the woman's head, having his thumbs resting over her eyeballs. He began pressing his nails into the sockets, increasing the pressure every smidgen of a second. She closed her eyes instinctively, and cried harder knowing what he was about to do.
"Hmm." He furrowed his brow inquisitively. "No...no. Your eyeballs are fine the way they are." The young woman breathed a sigh of relief at that. "Turn around."
Her eyes widened in response. Again, she didn't dare move. A low, guttural growl escaped his lips. He placed his hands on her shoulders firmly, and forced her around himself, making sure she was staring in the opposite way.
Her whole body shook uncontrollably with fright. She felt him lean in, pushing her hair to the side and exposing one side of her neck. She exhaled sharply when he buried his face in the crook of it.
Eichhorst took in her scent. He detected traces of Irish, Scottish, and even a hint of Scandinavian flowing through her. Bitter, mostly; finishes quite nicely at the end though. He smiled to himself at the thought.
The young woman had absolutely no idea what her captor was up to; however, once he nestled against the flesh of her neck, she lost it. The woman screamed. She whirled herself around with balled fists, attempting to sock him in the face, but the undead gentleman dodged her blow. He caught one of her fists in his hands and he squeezed hard, causing her to yelp loudly. She could hear some of her bones crack softly, and this got her to almost double over in agony.
"You do not listen, do you?" said Eichhorst coldly, and shook his head at her disapprovingly.
He threw her to the edge of the bed, with her top half landing on the mattress. The young woman turned her face and saw from the corner of her eye, Eichhorst striding over to her. She just laid there, defeated. As he got closer, she squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed quietly, waiting for her inevitable end.
"Giving up already?" said a disappointed Eichhorst, and clicked his tongue at her. "Such a shame. The others before you were quite vexing in their attempts at escaping. Their actions were futile; however, I thoroughly enjoyed the fight. It makes me savor the victory even more."
She could feel his presence hovering over her, and a violent shiver raced down her spine. Oh, how he took pleasure in the fear!
He knelt in, pressing his chest into her back, and her blood ran cold at his touch. He moved his mouth to her ear, and he whispered huskily, "I'm sure you'll taste as lovely as you appear, my Mahlzeit."
He stood up, and she tensed. This was it. She was going to die, but not before being raped by this monster. He was going to rape her, and most likely murder her in the most horrifying ways.
Her crying grew louder in volume. Her body shook tremendously. This was it. Any minute now, he was going to lift up her skirt. Any minute he was going to undo his trousers. Any minute he was going to violate her. The waiting for all this to happen was eating at her.
She waited...and waited...but nothing of the sort.
Instead, what her ears did pick up, was the sound of some animalistic groaning, followed by something being stretched, like flesh almost ripping. The sound was so unnaturally revolting.
Then something latched onto her neck, and her body became instantly paralyzed. Being raped was the furthest thing from her mind now. The very life in her was currently being sucked out by this "thing" on her throat; her veins were on fire! Either which way though, she truly felt herself letting go, but not by will. Her body was growing weaker and weaker, and the fight in her was dissipating.
Darkness welcomed her with open arms.
Eichhorst slowly retracted his stinger, his eyes still lingering on the young woman's body. He put his hands to her neck and snapped it with ease, just like all the other meals before her.
There was no doubt that this woman was beautiful, but she was a poor substitute to the "real" thing: Claire Wright. He assumed Claire at his side, and not this blonde fraud. A woman that not had blue eyes, but wasn't even a natural blonde. Claire was right there in his grasp, yet she somehow slipped through his fingers.
Truth be told, he could have had this blonde substitute chained up in his private feeding room, but where was the fun in that? He liked it when his food had a little fight in them, and this one was no exception at that. He always enjoyed the feisty ones. Would Claire be like that? He should hope so.
Before he left the room, he glanced over his shoulder to the young woman's body one last time, reminding himself that he'll have to get someone to discard of it later.
Eichhorst returned to his suite, and was not at all surprised to see Kelly Goodweather there. She sat in one of the large, leather chairs in his living room, gazing out the window and into the night sky longingly. One of the Master's children, the feelers to which they were called, was also in the room, attending and comforting Kelly the best to its ability.
Eichhorst stood in the next room over, just watching them curiously. He knew why Kelly was out of sorts: she wanted her child, Zack- her "Dear One". He could hear her soft, animalistic, throaty cackles of sorrow as her eyes casted downwards to the feeler, cocking her head at it peculiarly. It obviously wanted Kelly to give it some sort of gesture; to know that it was doing its job. Unfortunately, Kelly did no such thing. She wanted her son, and the feeler was not proving to be a good substitute.
Substitute...
Because Kelly couldn't whisk her son away a few nights ago when she managed to track him in the Red Hook district, she got angry. She first took her frustrations out on any humans nearby, feeding on them out of spite. When that rage subsided, it turned to need; hunger. She kidnapped children that resembled her son in some way and looked to them to fill that void she desperately wanted gone, but the feeling was only mutual after she fed on them. Feeding on substitutes was nothing like having the "real thing", and in her case, it was her son. With Eichhorst, it was Claire.
He almost peered down on Kelly with abhorrence. She was so outwardly with her resolve, unlike him. With Eichhorst, he kept up appearances as best as he could, and not become a withering fool that would fall apart if Claire wasn't within reach. He won't let the whole aspect of a "Dear One" get to him like that! He just can't allow that!
Eichhorst straightened out his suit and sauntered over to Kelly, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We will return for your son," he said reassuringly. "I have plans for Red Hook..." Kelly didn't even acknowledge this, even though he knew she heard him.
Eichhorst walked on over to a window nearby and gazed out onto the city himself. "Are you thinking of me, Claire?" He wondered thoughtfully, forming a small grin on his lips. "Du wirst mein sein, Liebling."
Claire's eyes fluttered open, and immediately noticed that she was sleeping on a dirty, tiled bathroom floor. It was such a small space, with only the basic essentials of a toilet and a sink to wash your hands. This was most likely some sort of "guest bathroom" of someone's home.
She laid there on the floor, staring straight ahead to the wall in front of her. Then her eyes began wandering to different parts of the bathroom, pondering if this was all real, or perhaps still just a dream of hers she has yet to wake from. After feeling the floor beneath the palms of her hands, and blinking every now and then to certain spots of the bathroom, she had come to the realization that this was real. She was not in the safety of her Massachussetts home with her family, but rather in a stranger's bathroom.
Then everything that had happened the night before slowly started to rear its ugly head...
After the hospital, Fet had driven back to his home in Red Hook, and the moment Claire had entered his place, she literally lost her mind. First there was the screaming that she did, then came all that crying on how hopeless everything seems; that everyone should just kill themselves because of this vampiric invasion. All life as we know it is gone. And then the worst of it for her: the vomiting. Oh yes, all that screaming and crying of insanities upset her system so much, it sent her flying to the nearest bathroom and upchucking everything that she ate that day, and then some.
What happened to Claire afterwards, even she couldn't recall, and she was thankful for that. She can't even imagine how much embarrasment she caused herself in front of everyone, or how they would view her now when she sees them again.
When more time had passed, Claire heard the bathroom door slowly open, and Fet poked his head inside. "You up?" Claire made a motion to look in Fet's general direction, though it wasn't enough to actually get a good look at him. Either way, her movements told him that she was indeed awake. "Ah! Welcome back to the land of the living!" He jest, coming into the cramped bathroom and shutting the door for some privacy. "How you feeling?"
Claire groaned irritably and managed to get herself into a sitting position. "Ugh...like the worst hangover ever," she answered groggily.
And she wasn't lying either: she remembered on her twenty-first birthday, her closest friends were more than thrilled she was finally at a legal age to go drinking with them, and so they brought her to a local bar for binge drinking. She drank and took shots 'till she couldn't drink no more, and still the drinks kept coming. All the girls shared a cab back to their homes, and Claire immediately went straight for the toilet. She scarecely remembered what actually happened that night, but she vowed she would never get drunk like that ever again!
A corner of Fet's lip curled up into a smirk. "Hangovers, huh," he said. "Know just the cure for that: loads of aspirin and some coffee. But in your case, maybe a hot shower and some coffee."
Claire couldn't help but let out a small giggle to that. She nodded approvingly. "Yeah...yeah, maybe that'll help." She brought up her legs to her chest, and she sighed. "What...what happened last night? I...I honestly don't remember much."
"You mean, after the hospital?"
"Yeah."
Now Fet was the one to breath in and exhale profoundly. "You sure you want me to tell you? It wasn't...pretty."
Claire squeezed her knees, readying for the worst to come out. "Yeah, I need to know."
Fet scratched the back of his neck with uncertainty. "Well, after we got back, you told your brother that your dad was murdered by the vampires. Your brother got angry and that was when..." he paused, not sure he wanted to actually finish his sentence. "...that was when you kinda went nuts."
Claire scoffed at the remark, even though she knew he put it at nicely as he could. She bobbed her head in acknowledgement. "And what happened then?"
Fet leaned against the door. "The short version of it all: you were yelling, you cried, went in here to vomit, and then you passed out."
Claire burried her face within her hands. "Oh my God," she moaned miserably, stiffling some sobs. "That is so embarassing!"
"Don't sweat it, you know. We've all had our worst days-"
Claire suddenly shot him an angered look. "I'm sorry- did you ever go insane in front of everyone, vomit, and then pass out at a toilet?" She snapped curtly.
Fet was taken aback by her words. "Uh-"
Claire then turned away shamefully at her outburst. "I'm...I'm sorry," she said sincerelly. "It's just..." She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know..."
Fet crouched down. "I get it- I do," he said. "I don't know what to say to make you feel better though...but..." there was a pause again, with him unsure of the right words to say. "We're all trying to fight this thing from taking any more lives. We've seen enough damage done by those immortal bloodsuckers."
Claire sucked in her lips at the thought, and said sardonically, "So...this 'vampire virus', that's still real, huh?"
Fet let out a small chuckle to her sarcasm. "'Fraid so."
Claire gave a slight nod of her head, accepting that fact. She finally decided to stand up, although she almost doubled over; luckily Fet caught her in time. "I think I could use that shower now," she said.
"I'll show you where it is."
Fet opened the door and helped Claire along the way, afraid she was going to collaspe to the floor without his aide. He also took care to shield her from everyone until she was ready to face them herself. He walked her up the stair and led her to another bathroom, fully furnished with a bathtub and shower stall.
"Well, this is it," said Fet, stepping inside and stretching out his arms to the entirety of the bathroom. "Stall's your best bet. Water pressure is pretty shitty though; and, uh, the hot water gets drained pretty fast too."
"Greaaat," said Claire dryly, but quickly turned to face Fet with a grateful smile. "But thank you for helping me up here. Probably would of just...kept falling down if you hadn't."
"Hey, no problem. Always willin' to help a pretty girl in need," he said. Claire smiled brightly at his compliment, and couldn't hide the light blush that came to her cheeks. "Help yourself to whatever's in here. Brought some clothes you can change into. Hope something fits. If not, I can stop by somewhere-"
"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Claire, continuing to smile reassuringly at Fet. Fet nodded and started to leave the bathroom when Claired said, "Um...Mister Fet?"
Fet turned around with a sheepish smile. "It's just Fet- none of that 'mister' stuff."
"Oh, sorry- but...I just remembered something you said...and...Chris is not my brother; he's my cousin."
"Oh!" Now Fet was the one to feel slightly embarrased. "Sorry about that. I think you mentioned something about it before..."
Claire waved it off. "It-it's no problem, really. I just wanted to clear that up."
Fet headed for the door. "Alright, just holler if you need anything," and then Claire was left alone to her own devices.
Claire decided to examine her new surroundings, and she scowled. The bathroom itself certaintly isn't the messiest she has ever seen, but it is what it is: messy. There were heaps of clothes tossed in corners here and there, probably hoping someone or other does the laundry. Scattered across the sink and even sections of the floor were personal products of every kind, specifically more for women than men. There was junk everywhere in the bathroom, and Claire surmised that this room probably isn't the only one that's littered with everyone's things. Given the situation though, it was understandble why Fet's place would be cluttered with everyone's personal belongings.
After doing her bathroom inspection, Claire finally undressed and got into the shower, keeping in mind of Fet's warning that the hot water drained rather hastilly. Unfortunately, she did not realize how much Fet's words rung true; not more than five mintues did the hot water suddenly turn to ice cold, making Claire jump back and gasp in astonishment when it hit her skin. She had barely even touched the shampoo!
Claire hated this. She really did. All she wanted was her own little space, with a proper working shower for her to relax in, letting the warm sprays ease all her worries away. Instead, what she got now was the complete opposite; even the shampoos and soaps she had to use seemed to be of a very cheap quality, something that Claire did not approve of since she had delicate skin.
So now Claire had to miserably finish off her shower in cold water, trying to bear it as much as she could. After she shut off the water, she grabbed one of the nearest towels off the rack, and wrapped herself in it. It wasn't until then she realized that the towel was slightly damp from previously been used by someone else. She whined pathetically.
After trying on various articles of clothing, she settled on a pair of jeans that were a little too tight in the rear, and a baggy flannel shirt that most likely belonged to Fet himself. Again, another childish groan out of her, feeling like she wasn't in her own skin in these clothes. Nevertheless, once she was all through, she exited the bathroom and headed back downstairs.
Fet's home reminded Claire of a large, studio apartment, with the exception that there is a second floor. Because of numerous individuals, such as Setrakian, Eph, and Nora living under Fet's roof, there were all kinds of their clutter throughout his place. On top of kitchen counters were test tubes and beakers used for various experiments of some kind. Hanging on walls were all kinds of weapons and guns, obviously made to use against the vampires. The rest of the junk? Claire didn't care to know. The only thing that did matter to her was the desire to try and organize this mess everyone's created!
For so many people to live under one roof must take a toll on everyone's sanity; and the whole vampire debacle would just tact onto it.
No one really acknowledged Claire when she entered the room, only a few glances her way, nothing more. Setrakian sat at a small kitchen table with Nora, while Fet and Eph stood nearby. Chris was off in what appeared to be the living room portion of the household, playing some old gaming console. Sitting next to Chris was a younger boy, watching the TV intently. She was pondering whatever or not to go over and talk to Chris, to shed more light on the events that led to his father's death.
Yes, she did tell Chris that his father died trying to protect her from a vampire; however, she failed to mention the part about it being all her fault. She had failed to mention that she had somehow warranted the unwanted attention of a crazed monster. She had failed to mention that this "crazed monster" had found her, and since her uncle had gotten in between them, was murdered in cold blood as a result.
She didn't want Chris hating her any more than he already does. She knew that he blames her for his dad's death. She just didn't want to tell him about Eichhorst. If she has to keep that part a secret for the rest of her life, she'll do just that.
After another minute, she decided to leave him be for now, and went over to the table all the adults had gathered around, and she took an empty seat near Setrakian.
"I am certain they will return tonight, with renforcements, no doubt," said Setrakian, tapping the table with his finger for good measure.
Nora furrowed her brows with uncertainty. "But Feraldo has her men guarding the checkpoint. There haven't been strigoi trying to pass through."
Setrakian exhaled quietly. "It is not enough. They will find a way, now that the formerMrs. Goodweather has seen her son here, she will do everything in her power to acquire him for herself." He turned to Eph. "We must see this Councilwoman Feraldo and convince her of this immenent attack."
"I don't think Feraldo is going to buy the whole 'Master' story," said Eph caustically. "I can still hardly grasp it myself."
Setrakian shook his head frustratingly. "We must, or else Red Hook will be infested with strigoi by nightfall-"
"Excuse me!" Claire chimed in as politely as she could. Everyone turned their attention to her, with Setrakian being the only one to stare heatedly. Claire did her best to ignore the vicious look and continue, "I couldn't help but overhear that those vampire-things have been here, yeah?" She said this as more of a statement than an actual question; nevertheless, she carried on before someone did decie to answer, "I thought it was safe here!" She exclaimed, and scoffed ironically, smiling as such. "I thought we were safe here! Are you telling me they're going to come back here? Those vampire-things?!"
"Not one place on this planet is safe, Miss Wright," said Setrakian grimly. "They will find a way. They always do."
Claire paced back and forth in place, attempting to think hastily on the matter. "Well, then we have to find my aunt before you guys do anything else," said Claire determindely. "I need to find her before it gets dark again-!"
"Miss Wright!" Setrakian raised his voice, with a dash of annoyance to his tone. "Your relatives are not our concern," he stated harshly. "We do not have the time of day to escort you all over to find your loved one."
Claire breathed in and out heavily to prevent herself from breaking down. "Okay- then, what about just taking us to the police station; maybe she's there," she said. "Or, maybe back to the hotel we stayed at. Or, even that hospital. She has to be at least one of those."
Before Setrakian could go off on her angrily again, Fet stepped in. "I'll take you wherever you want to go."
"Mr. Fet!" Said Setrakian curtly. "We do not have time to cater to this young woman. "
"We'll meet up later, yeah?" He looked to both Eph and Setrakian on that one. "I won't be gone all day..." He left his words trail on there; even he was unsure how long it would be to take Claire and Chris to the places they wanted to go to. A part of him regreted offering his services, but he was too humble to take back his word.
Setrakian exhaled through his nostrils, not liking this decision. "Alright. We will meet back here later. No longer than mid afternoon. We must prepare incase things take a turn for the worse." He got up from his chair and went off somewhere, with Eph and Nora following.
Fet turned to Claire, whom clapped her hands together happily. "Oh my God! Thank you so much!" She cried gratefully. "You have no idea how much this means to us!"
"What's going on?"
Fet and Claire watched Chris walk up to them, crossing his arms once he stopped in front of them.
Claire kept her hands together as she said, "Fet is going to help us find your mom."
"Really?" Even Chris seemed shocked by that fact.
Fet rubbed the back of his head uneasily. "Now, don't get ahead of yourselves. I can't take you guys everywhere- the gas, you know," he said, chuckling at the end.
Claire stared at him pleading. "It's just a few places, at least: the hotel, the hospital, and maybe the police if we can't find her..."
The corner of Fet's lip curled into a smile. "Well...here's hoping."
Unfortunately, the day turned out to be a waste of time for Fet.
Their first stop was the hotel the Wright family stayed out. As soon as Fet drove down the street it was on, he was met with a blockade of police vehicles and a few millitary-issued ones. Apparently, they had quickly wiped out the remaining strigoi in the building and decided to make it a headquarters for any millitary personel and officials. Claire had questioned if her aunt had come by, and produced a picture handy in her wallet as reference, but the police shook their heads; they hadn't seen anyone like that come around.
Their next stop was the hospital, but yet again, they were met with police vehicles surrounding the place. They couldn't even get close to the facility before they were stopped in the middle of the road by an officer. "Turn around," they ordered, waving their hands in such a way. "This area is officially under quaratine until the threat has been dealt with."
As Fet turned his vehicle around and drove the other way, he muttered under his breath, "Not good..."
It was after this that Fet had to call it a day for Claire and Chris. "Sorry," he said. "Gotta get back to the professor. We'll try looking another day."
Claire groaned. "But, by then..." she stared out the windows, watching all of New York pass by fleetingly. "...she might be dead..."
After getting back to his place, Fet regrouped with the others to discuss how they were to deal with the situation and what their plans were. Eventually, Setrakian and Eph left to try and convince this councilwoman Feraldo of a possible vampire ambush, while Fet and Nora would make sure all of Red Hook was secure, taking along Eph's son, Zack, with them.
"If he's with us, his mom won't come around here looking for him," Fet told Claire. "Don't know if you were listening, but the other night she came back here to get him. I guess it's part of the whole 'Dear One' that the professor talked about."
Claire blinked at him dumbfoundedly. "Um... 'Dear One'?"
"Oh! Guess you don't know about that, huh?" Fet sucked in his lips awakwardly, not sure how to explain the whole process of a "Dear One". "If I remember right: it's something to do with-" he stopped, thinking of a better way to explain. "When someone turns into one of those munchers, their love for someone turns to hunger for them. There's that, and if that muncher was related to someone, they come after them too. It's all about their DNA, I think."
Claire continued to stare at him, even more bewildered than ever. Fet took notice of her preplexed expression and couldn't help but feel slightly sheepish now. "Ah...I'm sure the professor can explain it better than I can."
It was then he left her with those words; he, and along with everyone else.
Claire and Chris were now alone in at his place.
Fet had reassured them, that as long as Zack was with him and Nora, then there should be no reason for any strigoi to come around. "And just installed these," he had said, showing Claire and Chris the reinforced bars on all his windows. "There's no way any munchers can break through those. Made from titanium."
Even with his reassurance that Claire and Chris would be safe at his place, it wasn't enough. As the sky completely blanketed in darkness, it made Claire worry more on where the others could be and why they haven't returned yet.
"Fet said if everything went okay, they would be back by now," said Claire nervously, gazing out one of the windows, looking out for any sign of the others.
Chris, whom sat on the couch and ran his fingers against the texture of the furniture, said, "They're probably dead, you know-"
"Chris!" Claire cried sharply, spinning around to face him. "Don't say that!"
Chris shrugged nonchallantly. "Well, they could be."
Claire scoffed at him, and turned back around to the window. She crossed her arms. "I don't think they are. They seem like...strong people; like the type that don't die easily."
Chris got up and walked over to a stack of assorted weapons in a corner of the room. He scrutnized them curiously. "Do they really need all these to kill those...vampires?" He asked, hanging on the world 'vampire', for it was a term that just didn't sit right with him.
Claire went over to him and looked over the weapons, as well. "Fet told me these are all made out of silver," she said. "So, I would guess they would need as many as they can."
Then there was that awkward silence between them. Either of them really spent this much time together alone in the past; always with their family or at least someone else, but never just the two of them. Neither of them knew what to say to one another, especially with all that's happened.
Chris eventually broke the silence by asking, "Did dad...did he suffer?"
Claire turned to him, completely stunned by his question. Chris stared back at her, eager for an answer. "Did he?"
Claire sighed as she faced away from him, contemplating her words. "No," she said sternly. "He didn't."
She was lying, of course: he suffered immensely before he was killed. He should of been put out of his misery then and there, but Claire didn't know then what she knew now about this parasitic virus.
"Tch!"
Claire looked at him again when her cousin made that awful sound. "You're such a liar," he said harshly, and he strode away from her.
Claire threw her arms up in the arm. "What would you want me to say?" She said defensively.
"The truth!" Chris snapped back, plopping back on the couch. "You act like I can't handle it! I'm not a little kid."
"I know that!" Said Claire, and she crossed her arms. "I just...I didn't want you to know. You don't need to know something like that..." She exhaled sadly, going back to the window to gaze out of it. "I'm just glad...you didn't have to be there to see."
"And know that it was all my fault."
"Do you think mom is dead then?" Chris wondered quietly.
Claire's lips formed a straight line. "I hope not- I really do," she replied dejectedly. "But, if I know her, then I know she wouldn't go down without a fight. She's a strong woman."
"Dad was strong too," Chris added bitterly.
Claire closed her eyes. "He was...but...those things are stronger. No one can prepare for them."
Chris didn't buy it. "So what makes you think mom-"
It was then that the electricity was cut, and all lights went out.
AN: This is probably my longest chapter yet, and I gotta say: I really missed typing Eichhorst, lol. And don't worry, readers, he's going to be in every chapter from here on in! Hope you enjoyed!