I woke myself up.
The room was exactly as I left when I went to bed. Dimly lit, night breeze flowing through the closed window, lightly moving curtains, a glass of still water on the nightstand. So peaceful I feel dizzy. It's rare, but every time that happened before I was dreaming, which meant I was sleeping, which meant I was unavailable in case of emergencies.
I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for doctor Warthrop's hand to shake me into consciousness, yelling at me to hurry up. To run. And yet... nothing. Only my slow paced breathing and feet still warm from being under the covers.
I open the door to hear its familiar creaking. The hinges only made noises when I cracked them slowly. Doctor Warthrop once told me that if I ever need to get away unnoticed (hopefully unnoticed! Most creatures have at least double our auditory capabilities - or 1% of it anyways), I should just kick the door in my socks (your best shot until your lazy ass gets some oil). Tonight, though, I just want to hear proof that all this is more real than it feels, so I let the doorknob slide and hit the hallway wall.
The solid darkness hisses on my skin. I immediately feel compelled to hide. Funny thing is, though, I rarely have had less reasons to do that than now. The house is dead quiet and nothing is chasing me.
The floor feels cold against my bare feet. The staircase steps have enough shadows to be distinguishable from one another, but are steep and narrow and my hand grips the wood rail, though I have no intention of descending. Here outside the room, the clock ticks inside my skull.
"Did you hear that too?" Malachi asks from somewhere nearby. His voice is clear and strong, so I'm guessing he's either long awake or has not slept at all.
"Hear what?"
I barely see his silhouette when he walks into the tunnel of light that leaves my bedroom. His is across the hallway, and I've always hated how far that seemed in the middle of the night and I still hate doctor Warthrop for choosing that room instead of the one next to mine. Now it's a little too late to move without a good reason. I have one, I just don't know if Malachi does.
Then I hear it. Subtle but loud in the silence. Voices.
"We should go back inside," I say weakly, not moving.
"What if he needs us?" Malachi snarks back, and the words are hinted with harshness.
I take half a step, hesitant.
"But what if it's a monster?"
"What if it's just Pellinore Warthrop?
Malachi shrugs and takes the first step:
"I'm hungry anyway."
I don't move. Malachi eventually stops, and I sense his shoulders tense.
"Will?"
"Yes..".
More voices. This time, I feel myself heading towards them. We both look down at the first floor.
"I hope it's a monster," I quietly mutter.
Malachi brushes his hand on mine. I've been waiting so long for him to hold it. I can't help but wish whatever awaits us down stairs wants my neck and my heart, since Malachi only holds me when he needs to save me.
"Me too," he whispers.
Wet sounds like blood-soaked gloved hands carving through flesh and wounds. The living room door is semi closed, but I'm way too close to Malachi and he is way too far from the right angle to see who's dying and who's getting killed.
He moves and tilts his head carefully so as not to touch anything. Whatever shadowy warm light comes from the living room now cuts a straight line through his features.
We hold our breaths together, and I gather the courage to peek or to fight.
First I see doctor Warthrop. He looks tipsy and sloppy. Or at least is sitting like that, body sprawled half on one side of the armchair, half hanging in the air. I can't see his head, face or hair, only his neck and covered chest moving rapidly.
One inch further, I see a mouth and a hand and a tongue — gripping his chin up and whispering things into his skin that I can't quite comprehend, but things Pellinore can, smiling with his quivering eyes and moving his hips...
I gasp. Malachi shuts me with a hand over my mouth. My eyes are locked on the figure of John Kearns on that chair, with his legs and knees relaxed, and Pellinore sitting on his laps, clutching and rubbing while Kearns has one hand inside the doctor's pants.
Something is said and someone laughs. Then draws a sharp breath and I hear clearly this time. One name. The name.
Jack.
I feel my body recoil, but somehow my hands go forward and I accidentally touch the door. No noise was made by the hinge. Or so I hope. Kearns lowers his pants and holds Pellinore's thighs in place. He pushes the doctors hips up one last time and lines up bottoms and crotch. Before joining the two with a violent shove, he looks straight at me.
My eyes widen and my legs go numb, but before I stumble into the living room or fall downstairs into the basement, Malachi closes my eyes tightly and pushes me safely away from the door.
He continues to hold me like that for a few seconds, while I feel tears forming in my eyes as soon as the screaming starts.
Jack. Jack. Jack.
Slick and filthy pounding fills the air, farther and fartheraway from me as I feel myself getting dragged upstairs. Malachi closes my bedroom door behind us, cursing to himself and pulling his hair.
But the sound does not disappear inside my mind, accompanied by a question each time the floor trembles and the chair squeaks.
Why that name? Why Jack instead of John? Why am I not running after monsters like I should be? I'm alive and so is the man I consider as close as my father, then why do I wanna throw up and go back to holding knives?
I don't notice right away, but Malachi starts going through my things. Throwing clothes out of my wardrobe, pulling out lug cases and bags.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"We're leaving."
"Leaving? We have nowhere to go."
"Anywhere is better than here."
I watch as he opens my bedroom window. All I want to do is beg doctor Warthrop to stop this and tell me what to do. Beg Kearns to stop too.
"Come on."
I shake my head and bite my lip to avoid more tears.
"We can't leave him behind with that man" I say.
His shoulders drop, but his face calms down and he approaches me.
"He's been doing great all this time with far worse creatures. I can't leave you with that man either. I'm going to join the army, you can go back to school. Think about it. I have some money left. We can make it work. No monsters ever again, just me and you."
I sink my face into his chest. Malachi puts his arms around my shoulders and holds my head against his heart.
"We can wait until tomorrow" he finally says, running his fingers through my hair.
The memory freezes me every time I think about it, but his embrace pushes it away, so I stay there as much as I can. Until he pushes me away too.
"I'll be back in the morning and we'll check on him before we go. I promise."
The sight of Malachi walking away without me seems unbearable now.
"Wait… could you spend the night here?"
He looks a little thrown off.
"Um. Of course. You should try to get some sleep."
"What about you?"
He smiles.
"I'll make sure you get some sleep."
So I lie on my bed and watch him, sitting on the floor and folding clothes and counting money. He's just a boy, yet I trust him more than any other man in my life. This sight, forever, suddenly doesn't seem so bad. I'll miss making tea and tying shoes, but maybe for the first time I could find some time to make myself tea and tie my shoes. I wonder what he likes to eat most, I could learn that too.
"What are we gonna do?" I whisper, struck by the realization that all this will only come true if I betray the man who accepted and cared for me.
He stops and stares at his hands.
"Live our lives, I think. For as long as and to the best we can."
"What if you get tired of carrying me around? Are you gonna leave?"'
Malachi sits closer to my bed and rests his head on the mattress. He stares at me for a long time before replying:
"Why do you think I stayed?"
"Revenge?"
"I came for it. Why do you think I stayed?
He reaches out an arm.
"You're the one carrying me around, Will Henry."
Our fingertips touch softly.
"So will you lie here with me?"
Malachi smiles and gets under cover. We lay face to face, separated by too much space, and intertwine our fingers. I close my eyes as he traces up and down the top of my nose, then side to side each eyebrow. I almost fall asleep, but that would be impossible with my skin shivering every time he exhales.
I touch his face, heart hammering and unable to close my eyes just to find out he hasn't closed his.
"I'm scared" he confesses, his words stopping me as soon as our noses meet.
His hand cups my chin with two delicate fingers. But stays there, no sign of pulling me closer. I open my eyes to see Malachi staring at my lips.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you to be scared."
I move his hand with mine so he covers my entire cheek. Malachi's thumb caresses my lower lip. He looks in pain.
"Would be different. We are not them."
"We all say that about our parents until we grow up and realize we're just the same."
"Do you kill people?" I ask.
"No."
"Would you?"
"To protect you, yes."
"Then you're not the same."
Malachi leans in to kiss me. It's more of a light and slow peck. He dares not to touch me with his hands, and breaks away when I try to hold the back of his neck. I'm left with my mouth slightly open, waiting for more.
"Please."
"No." He frowns, holding himself back. "Not yet."
I accept the touch of our foreheads and smile when he moves over the sheets so there's something in between us.
"Can we keep holding hands at least?"
"For as long as I'm alive."
I wake up shaking this time. I open my eyes to see Pellinore Warthrop with his typical irritated look.
"What took you so long? I thought you were dead, Will Henry. Snap to."
I rub my face and look for Malachi, but doctor Warthrop is already dragging me out of bed. I can barely stand on my feet. It's still dark outside.
"Where is Ma…"
"We all need to go. The world needs us. And I need you."
"What - what's happening?"
John Kearns is standing outside my door, all dressed in boots and a coat. He smiles and cocks the shotgun in his hands.
"Have you ever been to a monster's nest?"