Chapter 28:
Ok, maybe last chapter procured a FEW unexpected events. Myrnin's dead! Claire's a widow! Thank you SO much for the reviews last chapter; I love you all!
I don't own anything...
Claire's POV:
I have noone. I have no husband, no best friend, no lover... They were the same person. The same person as the one who was slain by the disgusting Bishop.
My Myrnin.
He was murdered, drained of all his blood, by Bishop. The horrific excuse for a man killed the love of my life before being killed by Sam... Why didn't Sam go and attack him as soon as Myrnin was caught? Why now? Because if he had, perhaps Myrnin would still be here now. Perhaps I would have my husband.
"Claire, it's alright," Sam's voice comforts me from the side, he rests his hand on my shoulder as an act of solidarity. "Come on, it'll all be ok," he continues: I note how the room is completely empty, even of bodies. There isn't one single living undead person in here, besides Sam and I. Because Myrnin isn't alive anymore... He truly is dead.
How long have I been here for? It feels like days, yet mere seconds at the same time. The tears stopped a long time ago, leaving me simply sitting here blankly with my Myrnin, holding him close and stroking his face softly.
"I, I'm not leaving him," I mutter, pulling away from Sam's touch. In all technicalities, he's the reason Myrnin is dead. If he had acted before he did, Myrnin would have had blood left. Then, most likely, he wouldn't have died and I wouldn't be alone, like I am now.
"Claire, he won't be alone," Sam presses but I shake my head, continuing to hold Myrnin's body close to me. He looks so peaceful... He could almost be sleeping. "Please, come back to the house with me... Please," he begs but I continue to shake my head, moving it so fast it feels like my jaw is rattling.
"I'm not leaving him," I press, even as I hear someone else enter the room. Amelie. It's Amelie.
"Claire, I will take him," she says very gently and I can hear the pain in her voice. He was her friend, her longest and closest friend, and she has lost him as well. But that is nothing compared to losing the love of your life, the one you joined forever for. "He won't be alone," she continues, her voice trembling so very slightly. She places a hand on my shoulder lightly and I respond to it, moving away as she wishes.
Fluidly, I stand up and spin away from my dead husband but stumble. The tears come back, flowing thick and fast, but I don't fall; Sam is here to catch me. He pulls me close into his arms as I sob, unable to put a lid on them again: why even bother?
"Sssshhh," Sam mutters, comforting me as he quickly moves towards the portal with me in tow and takes me through to his and Amelie's house. "You'll be alright," he continues but I don't feel as if I can agree.
The sobbing continues but then anger comes up as well. HE did this to Myrnin. How can I lay in his arms and cry? The tears and sobbing ceases and I wrench myself away from Sam as quickly as possible. The room is empty, apart from us, and I know that Sam chose this deliberately.
"Claire?" he asks, looking shocked and confused as to why I'm over in the corner, contemplating the furniture and ornaments carefully. Which one would be best to throw; which one would cause the biggest loss to Sam? I doubt any will... They're all Amelie's... Unless I begin with the ornaments then move onto Sam's books.
"You let him die," I say coldly, my voice trembling with anger and fear. "You could have stopped Bishop before... Before he killed Myrnin, he could have been stopped. Who cares that he's dead now? Myrnin is dead too!" I yell the last part before throwing a crystal vase in Sam's direction. He doesn't move until the last second when he comes over in my direction, which is when I move.
"Claire, it was part of the plan," he counter argues but I shake my head violently, eyeing up another object to throw.
"It was never meant for Myrnin to die," I spit out, hearing the fact that down the hall Michael and Oliver loiter. Myrnin will never loiter again. He will never be anywhere but wherever he is laid to rest. He is dead because Sam didn't save him. "Sam, why didn't you save him?" I mutter quietly, my voice trembling with the tears that threaten to overcome me.
He comes near me again but I turn away, firing another priceless ornament into the corner. It looks like some sort of jewellry box... Who cares? None of this shit is going to make Myrnin be back here and it's not like Amelie particularly needs it. Yet as I think of Amelie, a common French saying comes into my head. It's as if the link between Amelie's stuff being destroyed has created a section in my mind I have never seen before, but I can imagine her saying, her saying, "c'est la vie." That it is simply life that Myrnin has died, nothing else. This, if possible, makes me feel even worse... I need to find something else to throw - but what?
"He died Claire," Sam says gently, breaking my rerieve about what to throw next. These simple words break down any hatred I have for Sam and I begin punching the wall, sobbing as hard as possible... Even more than earlier. "Ssshhh, it's alright... You're going to be fine, Claire," he says as he pulls me away from the wall with my knuckles already bloody... Trust Amelie to have reinforced walls.
I begin punching his chest to try and vent out some of the anger as well, but it soon peters out. "Why?" I wail as Sam wraps his arms around me and begins to comfort me some more. "Why did he have to die?" I break down into fits of hysteria, losing all control of my body: I cannot survive without Myrnin!
"Sweetie, it's alright," Sam mutters and, for one split second, I believe him. For one second, I feel as if we're all going to be happy, that I can get through this. The feeling fades as quickly as it comes, leaving me more alone and desolate than I was before.
"Sam, w-why though?" I press, leaning my head into him in a position of comfort... He is my friend, I need him. His entire being is comforting to me right now. But I cannot survive this.
"It's all part of the way it works," Sam says and for a second I think he's talking about God and religion. "Some people have to die in order for the rest of the people to be free: look at World War Two. Thousands of soldiers died because they were fighting to ensure the world was a place where they would want their children to grow up in... Perhaps the same principle can be applied here," he suggests and I nod. I never thought of it like that; self sacrificing themselves for the good of the people.
"Sam, I'm sorry," I mumble but he ignores me.
"Stop saying that," he orders me firmly, pulling away slightly to look at me stonily in the face. I feel slightly fearful, as if he is reprimanding me. Yet I see his point... I shouldn't blame myself - I mean, it's not my fault that My-Myrnin died. I tried to go and save him but Michael and Oliver stopped me. I fought tooth and nail to get there, but they stopped me getting to me. I need him, but he's dead.
"I can't do this," I whisper into Sam's shoulder as I lose all control again. He simply holds me close and waits as the hysteria begins to fade again. It takes time (about forty minutes) for this to happen, for me to regain control of myself enough to talk. He seems to realise I'm me again and that talking to me is going to actually work.
"Sweetie, come on you need to go to sleep now," Sam says and I nod. Escaping into the world of the unconscious may be beneficial for a couple of hours... It will mean that I don't have to think about Myrnin for a couple of hours; at least I hope that will happen.
It feels nice to have him call me ''sweetie'' as if I'm really his granddaughter; it gives me something to hold onto during this time where I have nothing.
"Ok," I say and remove myself from his arms to wipe the tears from my eyes. "I guess you're right," I continue and slowly stand up. I feel weak, as if I can barely move... I suppose the trauma plus the actual events of the battle has used up all the blood my body had.
"Okay," Sam says, catching me as I sway and nearly fall. I lean into him and he supports me. "Come on, lets get you some blood then you can go to bed," it sounds so matter of fact, so normal, to say blood... It still hasn't fully sunk in that I'm actually a vampire. I'm a vampire. When I had Myrnin, I felt normal and as if I simply was living forever.
Now I'm just a vampire.
Sam opens the door and I hear the scurrying away of Michael - I doubt he could hear anything productive that he could not know already. He helps take me down the corridor, supporting my weight and making sure that I don't fall over as I head down towards the kitchen.
"Steady on," Sam says as I stumble again. He picks me up and carries me at a ridiculous speed to the kitchen. We enter and I see that Michael is already producing a bottle of warmed blood from the microwave: I guess he was listening and headed to warm it up for me so that is more effective than being cold and gunky.
"Here you are, Claire," he says, putting the bottle into my hands and unscrewing the cap. I smile very wanly and place the bottle to my lips, beginning to drink it slowly. The blood pours down my throat but it doesn't feel right... I cannot do this. Myrnin died because he lost all of his blood; I cannot drink this blood.
I spit the blood out all over the floor, spraying everywhere. I spit and spit, clearing every single remnant of the blood that was in my mouth out so that I cannot taste it anymore. I wriggle out of Sam's arms and fall heavily to the ground on my knees and begin gagging and retching. Tears mix with the bits of spit that come out and I retch entirely from my stomach. I press my hands into my stomach and collapse onto my side, unable to breathe. I cannot drink blood.
"Claire?" Michael says my name softly, bending down to pull the hair back from my face. He looks so concerned but I hate it... I don't want concern. I want Myrnin. I want my husband; I cannot drink blood now, knowing how he died, seeing how he died.
"I can't do it," I mutter, almost to myself.
"Can't do what?" Michael asks me quietly, taking one of my arms. Sam takes the other and together they lift me up but keep my weight. I wouldn't be able to stand. Almost every single particle of blood in my body is on the floor - i.e not much is left keeping me alive.
"D-drink blood," I mutter and he looks slightly alarmed. However Sam seems to say something - I cannot identify the words... It's too much effort for my body - and this seems to reassure Michael.
"Ok, it's going to be ok, Claire," Michael says, lifting me up. He doesn't seem fazed whatsoever by my weight and simply carries me to my room. I begin to fall unconscious but fight to keep awake - this unconscious isn't the usually welcoming unconscious named sleep. No, it's scary and like jumping off the edge into the unknown. I remember when I was a kid and my Dad took me swimming; I refused to jump in because I didn't know how deep it was - too shallow, I could hit my head and die but too deep and I could drown. It's like that... I don't want to jump off, I want to my feet firmly on the ground.
Michael places me lightly on my bed and tucks in the sheets around me. Sam seems to have disappeared off somewhere but I don't care...
"Ssshhh," Michael says as I begin to talk. "Just go to sleep and when you wake up you'll feel better," he promises but I don't believe him. I don't think I'm ever going to be better again.
I do as I am told and shut my eyes. My weary body instantly shuts down and for a moment I am paralysed until my brain shuts down as well. Ahhh sleep is upon me. Thank God for that.
Amelie's POV:
I kneel beside Myrnin's body and carefully arrange his limbs so that they are exactly straight - he doesn't want to look shoddy in death. I cannot believe this... This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen; he was meant to distract Bishop then run out of the way. After all, he has, had, Claire and all of us... There was even a chance... Yet that no longer matters; we will never find out if that is possible. This child will have lost a dear uncle and perhaps may not even be born without Myrnin.
Why did he have to die? Why did he have to play the hero, engaging in hand-to-hand combat with my Father then deliberately tripping and attacking? He should have known he could never win... So why did he even bother? He completed the suicide mission, not Sam. Now Claire is alone and Myrnin is dead, all because he had to be the damned hero and 'save the day'. Oh look, he has just made matters worse. He had to go and try and prove himself, even though we all know how accomplished he is, and then he lost. The worst thing of all... Claire saw everything. Despite the hardest efforts, she saw even him fighting Bishop before actually seeing his death. I have to hand it to Oliver, he restrained her even through his shock and never released her to her certain death, even though he certainly had the ability. Perhaps he is a better person than we originally thought; perhaps Lucy affected him more than he lets on to me.
Myrnin, you fool! You had everything you could have ever wanted and yet you had to go and die! You had to leave Claire, to leave me your best friend, just because you couldn't hang on.
The worst thing is, is that I know how it feels. Sam died and I suffered like Claire, but without the support of many... Myrnin did his best but he never was the emotional man: I vaguely remember him and Claire gunkballing for her to get over Shane and move onto him - rather an unorthodox method. Oliver tried, I suppose, but he never knew what to say and I was always suspicious. I knew that he didn't have any real reason, not truly, for helping me so I never believed him.
Now that he is ready, I suppose I should remove him from this dratted room. If I can, I will never step foot in here again – it holds too many memories for me now. None of these memories are good ones, oh no… the complete opposite of that.
Carefully, slowly, I lift Myrnin's body from the floor and let one of the escalating tears drip from my eye. I stand for a moment, just holding the body of my fallen comrade, and cry out all of the tears I can. Then I wipe the tracks away from my face and return to being 'the ice queen'… after all, Claire is the one who lost him. I only lost a friend. I should count myself lucky that I still have a baby and a husband. Claire has neither…
I take Myrnin through the portal and into the small room behind my office that only two people knew about. One of them is now dead. I am the only one who knows of its existence now. I will not lie… this is one of the most painful experiences I have ever come across in my life and now I don't have my best friend to help me through it.
Dearly beloved Father in heaven, please have it seen tot that my friend Myrnin is well treated and happy in his afterlife. He was taken from us far too early and he didn't deserve to die. If you do this for me, God, I will do everything in my power to make sure that nothing ever occurs like this ever again. Your loyal worshipper, Amelie. Amen.
I pray, I pray to God and every single person and thing that could do anything for Myrnin. He needs to come back… yet he cannot…
Yeahhh... The happy thing that was going to happen that chapter sort of didn't: Amelie's POV was an addition I wasn't expecting, but it fitter (at least I think it did).
Please R&R! Or you know what'll happen! LOVE YOU IF YOU REVIEW!
Vicky xx
