Chapter IV
I trudged home slowly, making my way up the very long, twisting driveway. Usually I love this part of the day, walking through the woods back home, seeing the great house looming in the shadows and the trees, windows softly glowing to welcome me home. Today I felt no usual sense of serenity and simple pleasure, but a great gnawing fatigue starting in my centre and working its way through me. I was exhausted, and I didn't know why. What I did know was that I didn't want to sleep for some reason. I feared what I might dream. My dreams, I knew, were interwoven with the strange muscle pains and bloody cuts that came with waking nowadays. If I didn't find out what it all meant soon, I would lose my sanity. I loved the way I lived my life, but I hated my life. It was all so boring, so monotonous and…premeditated. I wondered often if someone had written out my life before I was born and now I was compelled – or maybe condemned – to play it out that way. I didn't want that. I wanted adventure, excitement, I wanted something impossible to happen, like, as Caitlin said, an inter-dimensional rift opening and sucking me into another world that shouldn't, by my world's standards of reality and what is and is not possible, exist. And if possible, I wanted to bring my friends with me. I never felt like I belonged here, in this world, in this life, but now, as my sixteenth birthday drew nigh, that feeling increased steadily every day. It had since the new year began four months prior. Was something going to happen when I turned sixteen? I could only hope!
I knew that ignoring the fatigue and getting right to what little homework I had immediately was out of the question. I hated going to sleep in the middle of the day (though I found sleep came easier in the daylight hours than at night) but I could hardly keep my eyes open. I called a tired hello to my mom as I walked in the front door and headed up to my room. Mom followed.
"Honey, is something wrong?" she asked.
"I'm really tired, Mom," I said. "I'm just gonna lie down for a while. Could you wake me up at dinnertime?"
"Sure thing, sweetie," said Mom. "Ah, your History teacher e-mailed me about your falling asleep in class?"
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"Are you OK?"
"I just haven't been sleeping well the last few nights is all."
"How long?"
"About a week, I guess."
"A week! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Sorry."
"Well, you take a nap and I'll call you for dinner. If this persists, tell me, and we'll see the doctor to see if something's wrong."
"Thanks Mom." I smiled. Mom always took care of me, even when I didn't really need it. She was always there to make sure I was doing OK and to see if there was something wrong and to fix it if there was. She was constantly asking me what was wrong, but so did a lot of people. Whenever my face is relaxed, I look ineffably sad for some reason, so people are always asking why I'm sad. It gets annoying, but at least it means people care. Or they're just curious. Or they're just bored. Whatever the case, I didn't care. I turned and went into my room.
My room is huge. So big I have my own private observatory, even! It's split into two levels, the stairs being at the far wall on the first level. I have a small library on the first level, as well as my computer and desk. On the second level is my TV, stereo, laptop, and bed. I have such a cool bed, really, a four-poster. The posts are all carved to look like different dragons in various positions (that's not an innuendo, I swear). The head- and footboards were carved like twisted, Gothic gates. Hell's gates, maybe. The bed was made from some black wood, and not painted black either, but natural. Blood red veils hung all around on all sides, enclosing the mattress. The sheets, currently, were blood red silk with a black silk pillowcase. The only sort of non-Gothic thing about my bed was the quilt. It was actually a tapestry of a Celtic unicorn dancing among the stars in the black night sky with a parchment-coloured Celtic knot trim around the unicorn and a green Celtic knot trim around that. It measured 7'4"x8'10", roughly, and its size isn't a problem since I have a queen-sized bed. My parents spoiled me and my brother a little.
I dropped my bookbag at the foot of the bed before pulling back the curtain and dropping myself into bed. I sat up just long enough to take off my boots and slip under the covers before collapsing, my head hitting the pillow like a dead weight. Sleep came almost immediately, and with it, as I feared, the inexplicable dreams.
I made my way silently, my velvet gown swishing only slightly around my ankles. I couldn't betray myself with a single sound, no matter how soft. They could hear anything. Yet, they should also have been able to sense life, living blood pumping. They were distracted by something. But what? As I neared, I realized what. Each other.
"How ironic if the creature that you made should prove your own undoing. Now - we finish this. Once and for all."
I watched, fascinated, as Raziel attacked Kain blindly, furiously. And I saw what Kain did not: the eerie green light in Raziel's eyes. I realized the cause of his impetuousness.
"Gods above," I breathed, "he's possessed!" I knew what to expect next, but still I was startled when I saw Kain unwittingly begin to draw Raziel's soul into the Reaver.
"Vae Victis-" Raziel gasped.
"I didn't-" began Kain, but he never said just what it was he didn't do, or mean to do. With one last burst of strength, Raziel rallied, plunging his claws into Kain's chest and ripping out the Heart of Darkness. He held up the heart victoriously.
" 'Woe to the conquered'!" he said triumphantly. I came out of the shadows, knowing more than either of them about what was happening and what was going to happen.
"No, Raziel," I said, startling both him and Kain, who yet lived somehow. Raziel spun around and stared at me at my words. I spread my arms out. "You mean invictus – unconquerable!" I laughed, dark, hideous laughter that ripped forth from a dark place deep within me that I never knew was there, laughter that shook the columns and rattled the bones of the dead. Kain also stared at me now, but not with the shock that Raziel did. He looked at me with a sort of curious satisfaction.
And laughed…
I gasped and shot upright in bed, panting and looking all around as though thinking I would find Kain and Raziel there with me. But there was no one. I had only been asleep for about half an hour, and I was still tired. Slowly I took some deep meditative breaths and calmed myself, pushing my sweaty hair out of my eyes before lying back down and closing my eyes again. I kept opening them again and again, looking for something I knew was not there. Finally sleep came again, and the dreams returned.
I was surprised that I wasn't sneezing. The library was thickly coated in dust. Strange how I didn't wonder how I had gotten here. I only wondered at the hollow feeling and faint burning pain in my chest. It seemed to be drawing me somewhere, so I followed. I found myself drawn to the garden. Such a beautiful garden, though it desperately needed the touch of a loving hand to reach its full potential. This place was so familiar. Had I been here before? I wanted to stop and look around, but the burning pain was stronger now, and I was compelled to follow it. I followed down the winding paths and into a dank crypt. The strange door opened when I just touched it, and I followed the trail of blood droplets down the winding stairs. Every so often the burning pain flared up stronger still all of a sudden before dying down again to a throbbing ache. When I reached the bottom of the stairs and found the antechamber, I realized why. Raziel was there, carrying the Heart of Darkness, and out of nervousness, or anticipation, or maybe just frustration, I didn't know, but he kept squeezing the Heart at random moments. And suddenly I knew why it was I was feeling pain, and why it had become so strong now that I was near him. The heart Raziel carried was mine. And when he squeezed it…
…agony.