Chapter Eleven: "Rest Easy, Baby"

Yeah, so... there might be some conflict in this chapter. Y'know, if you're into that kind of thing. It was stressful to imagine and write, but also cathartic in a weird way. IDK, do you guys ever write stuff like that? One minute you're like, I would never do this in real life, and then you're like freed by societal expectation by realizing it? It's like you're righting the world's wrongs that you see and feel so powerless? Just me? Ok. Cool. And that's got me like weirdly excited?

Songs for this chapter:

"My Body Is a Cage" by Arcade Fire

"I Am the Fire" by Ghost Monroe

"Survivor" by 2WEI and Edda Hayes

"A Mermaid's Desire" by Claudia Mackula

"Offing" by Julianna Barwick

-O-

The library door closed behind her thirty seconds before Sabrina had been expected, and a sigh of relief escaped her. She stood on her toes, her eyes scanning the room. No one mingled in the library yet. The elementary students wouldn't be there until nine-fifteen accompanied by high school mentors. She should try to talk Caroline into doing one of those programs. It did look good on a resume…

"Ms. Sabrina Forbes?"

"Yes?" Sabrina's head turned at the voice. She found its owner to her left. A slow smile spread across her features as she recognized the woman. "Ms. Buchanan?"

The woman, in question, wore a prim lavender cardigan and matching skirt. Her thinning white hair was tied back in a bun while glasses hid sharp, alert blue eyes. Her thin mouth spread into a smile, pleased. "You remember me?"

Sabrina reached to hug the woman, who returned the embrace, patting her back. Ms. Buchanan barely reached the top of Sabrina's shoulders. Sabrina doubted if she had ever been more than five feet tall. Sabrina pulled back.

"Of course, I remember you! You let me stay as long as I wanted, read as many books as I wanted, play on the computers. You were the only cool librarian here,"

"Now, I won't be hearing another word of that." A familiar slyness lined the woman's face. She peered over one shoulder surreptitiously. "At least, not where Beatrice can hear us. I'll show you the ropes so you'll know the right way to run a library,"

Ms. Buchanan reached for and took Sabrina's arm as Sabrina laughed. A familiar, giddy excitement grew within Sabrina. She suddenly exuded energy and enthusiasm. Ms. Buchanan ushered her into her own special version of employee training, explaining what would be expected of her, mostly relating to updating computer systems, beginning new documentation of historical letters, scanning information into the county system or into the Whitmore college umbrella system. She even smiled as she was shown her own little corner in the historic document room, filled with computers in desperate need of updating. Sabrina thanks Ms. Buchanan as the woman offered her a cup of tea.

Guilty relief swept over her. Not everyone in Mystic Falls was Helen Persimmons.

-O-

The clacking of keyboard keys hummed dully in Sabrina's periphery. The last school group had just left the library. She had been told by Ms. Buchanan the retiree age group would be next, or as she so colorfully put it: "You know, sweet pea, the nearly and almost dead." she had chuckled.

Brave words for someone pushing eighty-five, Sabrina thought. Although, Sabrina was fairly certain Ms. Buchanan could and would fight off death with a well-timed offer for a cup of afternoon tea.

It was nearly three-thirty when the man walked through the library door. Sabrina smelt him first before noticing anything else. Like putrefaction and rot of the worst kind. She covered her nose and mouth, stifling a gag. She stood abruptly, pushing herself up and out of her chair, nearly knocking it over. She looked around; no one else seemed to be reacting like she was.

Men and women walked around perusing the stacks of books, periodicals, video games, and DVD rentals. The cheese danish threatened to make a reappearance as her stomach gurgled. The hunger pangs caught her off guard.

Her eyes flew to the clock on the wall. 3:11 pm. She clocked out in nineteen minutes. Nineteen minutes? she asked herself. She didn't know if she would last nineteen seconds with that acrid smell. Sabrina bobbed in between the shelves, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes began watering when the stench grew closer. The cuff burned her arm. She shoved up her sleeve, shaking her arm, shaking away the irritation that felt like her arm was falling asleep.

Twenty paces away from the children's section, Sabrina stopped. All noise to Sabrina filtered down to her breath, her thundering heartbeat, and the pages of a single book turning. Her eyes shifted, green reflecting iridescent in the buzzing florescent lights above her.

A middle-aged man in a pressed navy blazer and white button-up hovered over a little girl, no older than eight or nine. She turned the pages of a Boxcar Children novel, dipping her head away from the man who tried to slide his fingers through her wispy blonde hair. The voice buried beneath her skin rumbled.

'See his heart.'

Her eyes shifted again, turning black. She opened her and nearly gasped. His rotten heart and soul reflected onto the physical. Evil vice corrupted the strange surrounding his heart. The lusting need for this innocent little girl emanating from the man reeked.

Sabrina stumbled back, knocking her hip against the corner of a low bookcase. She barely felt it. She clenched her eyes shut, forcing away the awful filter.

She didn't know what was more horrific— the man's heart itself or the fact that his own evil was beginning to tear down the girl's innocence. Her will, her hopes were being destroyed by this man—no! This cowardly pedophile didn't even deserve the title of a predator.

Metal bent under her fingers. Her head jerked to the side while she looked down, seeing the mangled corner of the bookshelf. One of the part-time volunteers, Judith, side-eyed her as she passed. Sabrina called her name, asking her if she knew who the man and the little girl were.

Judith twisted dyed brown hair into a loose knot at the back of her neck. "Hmm… oh. That's Ben Sterling and his stepdaughter. Her name is…I know her mom from my son's soccer games. Her name is…" her tongue clucked against the top of her mouth as she tried remembering the girl's name. Her eyes brightened suddenly, "Laura. Her name's Laura. Y'know, I actually think he's running for the county's attorney general position later this year,"

Sabrina's neck and face burned in fiery righteous indignation. No advocate, Sabrina thought. No advocate, no defender, no protector. This girl had nothing.

No, the voice screeched.

A pain pierced behind her eye. She gripped her head between her palms, ducking away from Judith without a goodbye. She vaguely heard the woman grumbling. Sabrina's legs gave out from under her as she hid behind a bookcase. She still held her head while her arms shook. She removed her hands, watching as jagged white claws extended from her nail beds. Her fangs ached, begging for release.

She couldn't here. Not now, not here. The people—her coworkers, patrons, students, the innocents— would never understand what they saw. She heard a voice from across the building, and she knew it belonged to that decrepit man. "You about ready to go, hon. Your mom will be home in the next hour or so,"

The girl's voice replied in a whisper, "No, I don't want to go now. I haven't finished my book yet,"

'You would leave your sister alone?'

'No!' Sabrina answered back, not caring if it was aloud.

'There are more than the normal ways to hunt.' The voice said. 'We are tied to the water but not helpless on land. Never helpless anywhere,'

'Who are you?' Sabrina thought.

There was only silence.

"Useless," she hissed. "You are freakin' useless,"

Her fingers rapped against her knees before Sabrina shot to her feet. She let her eyes change this time as she stared through the bookcases, locking onto the man and the girl across the room. The vileness of the man bled into the little girl. The hunger she felt in the gas station an hour from Mystic Falls sliced into her. Her hesitation fell away as the tension in her hands released. Clawed nails rested at her side.

She knew what she needed to do. No one else would hear her call. No, only those with a heart like his would hear her.

She straightened her spine, pulling her hair down from its braid, letting it flow down her back. Her steps became slow, measured, as she stepped out from around the bookcase. Her voice built in her chest, emerging from her throat in a low hum. Sabrina saw when he first heard it. His back arched, his neck craning to one side, his eyes dulling and closing for a moment. He stood straight in the next moment. No one else seemed to hear her luring song as it vibrated, spilling into the air.

The little girl's posture eased when she felt him move away. She settled down to read her book in peace.

Rest easily, baby. She said silently to the girl. He will be a bad memory soon.

All she could think about was Caroline.

She let her eyes flicker briefly into those of luring siren, into the thin veil of human and ethereal. She let him look at her, staring at her, committing her face to his memory before she turned around and strode out the swinging door which led to the rear loading entrance. She knew he followed, would be tripping over himself to catch her.

No cameras had been installed in the back of the library. She knew this because that had been part of the reason the library hired her, to update and bring the library into the 21st century. Computer science came as easily as organization, but she was thankful her efficiency had not yet reached this corner.

A bird sang as she opened the door before Sabrina's own song overtook nature's own dull thrum. The willow next to the employee parking section seemed to arch away from her like it could hear her song, like it felt the disturbance of the natural balance. The puddle underneath the library's loading dock curled around her ankles, soothing her skin. The inward creature hummed, pleased, manifesting in her outward appearance, in pale skin and a predator's glowing eyes.

The man emerged from the back doors, stumbling over the threshold. Her dull hum throbbed in the air. She saw the dark black and green bruises underneath his eyes spidering the longer that she sang. She wanted to be disgusted. Outstretching her arm, she tempted him closer. He took her hand. His mistake.

She jerked him forward. The claws extended from her other hand, and she thrust it into his chest. She let her true face bleed through— all fangs and sharp edges. The dullness of her spell wore off of him, and his eyes widened in terror while his sternum gave a satisfying crack. This should have horrified her, she thought as her grip tightened around his heart. She felt the beat pick up. He tried to scream but couldn't. She wanted his fear. Yes, she reveled in it even.

She met his eyes unflinchingly, leveling him with cold anger. He was no longer in control; she was. She was only disappointed in the fact that men like this could only die once.

Her hand tore itself back, gripping his heart as she did. It gave way with a sickening suctioned pop. He stood for a long moment before his eyes lost their vigor. He dropped to the ground, limp weight smacking against the old concrete.

That biting hunger dictated that she bring her stolen meal to her lips. So she did. She dropped to her knees as she ate, not caring as the blood smeared across her long cream sleeves and turtleneck. She stared ahead for a long moment, centering her breath, not allowing a single thought to enter her mind.

A hand gripped her shoulder as a woman yelled, aghast,

"Sabrina!"