Author's Note # 1: The immense amount of dialogue in this chapter is translated from French. Unless otherwise indicated, all the dialogue in this story is translated from French. If I use words that don't exist in the French language, it's because I'd rather the writing be good in English than accurately reflect the French language.
Author's Note #2: This chapter contains an immense amount of exposition, thus the title. It felt natural for the story, but if it comes off annoying I apologize. Sometimes, you just have to get it on the table, like Chapter 9, Theory, of Twilight. Also, similarities to (and a pot shot at) Midnight Sun, as well as the Angel season five episode "Unleashed", are deliberate.
4. EXPOSITION
"I don't know how to start," Sabine said, and looked up at me.
I'd rented her a room for the night. It cost almost nothing, and with good reason. The hotel was in shambles, much of it uninhabitable. It did have running water, though I knew that hot water was out of the question. The only reason I took the room was that the radiator worked. The mist from her breath made me realize how cold the night air had become, though she did not shiver. I had no idea why.
She gave me a strange look when I requested only a single room, but she did not protest. However, as soon as I'd shut the door behind us she once again proceeded to question me about my scent, my cool skin and strange eyes, and the frightening speed with which I'd dispatched the fat man at the bar. I did not reply, but indicated that she sit on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room besides a small table and chair. At least there was a light. She sat and crossed her arms, and I told her that it was important that I know more about her first.
"Why don't we go to the beginning, then," I started. "You're from France-"
"No!" she said hotly, cutting me off. "I'm Belgian."
"Sorry?" I was confused.
Annoyance crossed her face again. "I'm from Wallonia, in Belgium. We speak French there. Flemish Belgians speak Dutch." Her annoyance became indignance. "Did you think that Belgians all spoke some mythical Belgian language? Americans, never bothering to learn about anyone else. Let me guess, you were under the impression that everyone in Switzerland spoke a language called Swiss. Did you even bother to meet a single person that you were so gloriously liberating?"
Sabine continued like that for awhile, and I simply stared at her as I leaned lazily against the wall, amused. She was right, I'd never spoken to a single Belgian the entire time the 82nd was deployed there during the Battle of the Bulge. Danny and I had other things on our minds. Like wiping out Germans and destroying tanks.
"Actually, they speak four languages in Switzerland," I finally cut her off. "And people in some parts of Belgium speak German. But you're right, I never bothered to meet any Belgians when I fought there."
Surprise crossed her face. She had not paid any attention to me during her tirade, but she looked up at me now, still annoyed, her arms still crossed over her chest. "Could you please sit down? You're making me nervous."
I complied, taking the wooden chair and sitting across from her. I had to remember that I could not be so still, that humans became easily uncomfortable with my vampiric tendencies. I had to keep breathing, blink, all those things that humans did naturally. I hadn't spent time with humans in four years, beyond the ones I'd killed. Not that I was spending time with a human now. I smiled, hoping to allay her unease. It didn't seem to work, so I spoke again.
"Very well," I said, and couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes, "you're from Belgium. Please, continue." I waved my hand in front of her, hoping she would comply.
She gave me a dirty look, but kept going. "I'm from Dinant-"
This time it was I who interrupted, with a short laugh.
"What?" she asked, irritated again.
"It's nothing. My division went through there during the war. Lovely town. It had that church, sitting over the Meuse. And that fort on top of the cliff. Wanted to go up top, but I never got the chance. We might have even met, had I bothered to meet any Belgians, as you pointed out." I guessed it really wasn't that funny, come to think of it.
"The citadel. Yes, my home is quite nice. We seem to have established your lack of appreciation for Walloon culture. Do you mind if I go on, or did you simply want to tell the story?" Sabine raised her eyebrows, and I nodded. But I couldn't help but smirk. I liked this girl: she wasn't afraid of me at all. She was feisty. Yes, that was a good word for her temperament. Very refreshing.
"I was thirteen when the Germans came. Our town lost a tenth of its population when the Germans attacked in 1914. My father's uncle was one of the people who died. We didn't take any chances the second time. The whole town was evacuated. My parents ran a small bakery, for the tourists who came to see Notre Dame and the citadel. Notre Dame is the name of the cathedral, in case you haven't guessed."
Sabine shot me a contemptuous look, and my smirk became a smile. Too wide a smile. Her face went pale at the sight of my teeth, and she turned away.
"We fled south, along the Meuse, not realizing that we were in direct line with the German advance. They moved so fast though the country that Dinant, the whole area, was captured in less than a week. It only took a few weeks before the whole country surrendered. The Germans did not mistreat us at all. They were too interested in moving on to France.
"The Germans moved us back from their front line on the river. To a town called Rochefort, on the edge of the Ardennes. We returned to Dinant once the country surrendered and the Germans solidified their hold. For the most part, it was rather peaceful. The Germans were so fast, defeated our army and the French so quickly, that the town, the whole country, was relatively untouched. We could move about freely, during the daytime, as long as we weren't Jewish. They disappeared pretty quickly." She grimaced at the thought. I couldn't blame her.
"Belgium was occupied for four years when it…happened." Her grimace became worse, as if she was actually in pain. "I'd walked up to the citadel, and was hiking nearby. I like to walk. At least I used to. I'd started out late that day, and it was already dark when I made my way back to town. I was near the edge of the woods, almost back to the citadel. I was so worried that I might get caught being out after dark by the Germans stationed there, or that my parents would reprimand me, that I wasn't paying attention, and I slipped on a wet rock and twisted my ankle. That was when it bit me." She shuddered as she said the last.
I realized that I was leaning forward, my face only a foot away from hers. She stared at her hands for a long time, and then looked into my eyes. I expected her to flinch, but she didn't. Sabine's eyes were such a lovely shade of green. We stared at each other for a long time, until she finally blinked. I realized I'd forgotten to.
"I didn't see it. I heard it bark behind me, and tried to run, but my ankle hurt too much, and I fell again. I could see the citadel when I looked up, could see a man pacing along it. He heard the bark too, and was coming towards me. Whatever it was, it bit my calf."
Sabine stopped, and pulled her leg onto the bed, crossing it over the other. Then she pulled up the pant leg, and showed me four sets of teeth marks, two on each side, with five individual marks in each set.
"It never goes away. Four years, and the scar won't heal. I had scars, from before it happened, where I broke my arm as a child. Even that disappeared, after it bit me, though it was there for almost a decade. This scar won't go away."
"Neither will the scar on your shoulder," I said quietly, without thinking. Her face jerked up from her leg to stare at me again. She was about to respond, but I didn't let her. "What happened then? After it bit you?"
She wanted to ask me more, but my question threw her off. "I…the man was a German soldier. He shouted at us, and the animal left. I turned to look at it, but I only caught a glimpse of flesh before it was in the trees. When the soldier saw the bite and my twisted ankle, he took me to the doctor. The doctor didn't know what the bite was from, and he gave me a rabies shot and wrapped my ankle before sending me home."
"But that wasn't the end of it," I continued for her.
"No, at first it was good things. My ankle healed quickly, in less than a day. And my senses got better. I could see better, for over a mile, and I didn't need glasses anymore when I read. I could hear conversations across the street, inside homes with closed doors. Smells became much more distinctive. I could taste the air, could taste every nuance of flavor in a meal. And I was stronger, much stronger. I lifted things with ease that would have been a struggle before. Sharp ends and other objects that would have cut me I could barely feel. Cold and heat didn't affect my body, no longer made me uncomfortable." She'd smiled when she'd begun, but it became a frown as she went on.
"Then it became weird," Sabine went on with a sigh. "I craved meat. Soon it was all I could eat. And I couldn't stand it if it was cooked too much. I barely let my mother cook it before I wanted to eat it, and then I insisted on cooking it myself, eating it almost raw. I ate so much of it that I when through all of our meat ration, and my parents had to live on other things. The smell of it was so enticing that on a few occasions I tried to steal other people's meals. I couldn't stop myself. My parents began to worry. I was two fast, my reflexes too good, impossibly good. And then the healing. I cut myself with a knife by accident. The wound healed completely by the time I woke up. Bruises disappeared within an hour. And I was too strong, stronger than my father, stronger than anyone in town. And then, a month after the attack, I disappeared.
"I was in my room one moment, and the next moment I was lying naked by the river. Someone found me and raised the alarm. The entire town was looking for me. And one of the searchers had been killed. No one knew what had killed him. My mother had entered my room the night before, only to find my window smashed, my sheets shredded, and me gone. The doctor could find nothing wrong with me. But it happened again the next night, and the night after. The third night, I stayed I the doctor's office, but the door was smashed open and I disappeared. The fourth night, my mother stayed with me. I didn't disappear. I slept normally, once I could sleep. But no one in the town would come near me after that. They'd seen the sky, seen the full moon, seen the movies. They didn't believe it, but they knew something strange was happening."
She looked so sad, I had an intense desire to reach out to her, to go to the bed and cradle her in my arms, make the sadness go away. And so tired as well.
"When it happened again the next month, my parents locked me in the cellar after the first night. I protested, screamed at them, but they said it was for the best. They refused to be in the cellar with me, to see what was happening to me. I didn't disappear, but I'd ripped all of my clothes apart. My parents weren't superstitious, and they thought I had some strange disease. They sent me to a hospital in Namur, and the doctors checked my blood, my reflexes, my strength. They couldn't explain any of it. There was nothing irregular about my blood, they could find no sign of a virus. They sent me home. And my parents took to locking me in the basement during the full moon."
Sabine shivered when she spoke of them locking her in the basement. I couldn't blame her. Though her parents were right to do so.
"This continued for a year, before they started talking about sending me away, to an institution. I was insane. That was why this kept happening. My insanity was the reason for my disappearances, for my strange compunctions. It somehow explained my strength, and my healing. Am I insane?" she asked abruptly.
I was so caught up in her story that I was caught off guard completely. "No, Sabine." For some reason I enjoyed saying her name out loud. I liked the way it sounded. "You're not insane," I replied quickly.
"Am I a…?" she couldn't bring herself to say any more.
I nodded, and her eyes tightened.
"So I left," she continued, as if I had not just told her something impossible, something that no human could believe. "I didn't want to go to an institution, so I started east and didn't look back. I was one of millions of beggars in Germany, and I'm one of millions of homeless here in Poland. I get in the bread lines, I sleep in shelters where I can find them. And three days of the month, I lose myself, and I wake up naked somewhere completely different. Usually in a field, unless it's raining, and then a barn or under a tree. Sometimes, there's blood on me. I've been arrested eight times. I've stolen more food and clothing from other poor people than anyone ever should."
Sabine began to cry as she continued speaking, and the tears rolled freely down her cheeks. I reached out, unthinking, and wiped a tear away. She started at my touch, at my cold skin. She was so tired, so depressed, so broken.
"Garrett, are you a…" she hesitated. "Are you a werewolf too?" I could tell the word was painful for her to say aloud.
"No. I'm much worse," I said simply.
"I've never told anyone what I told you. It feels good to say it aloud." She was yawning as she said this. At least she wasn't crying anymore. There were few things more painful to me than watching a woman cry. And I'd known a great deal of pain.
"You should get some sleep." Before she could protest, I stood up, pulled her from the bed, and turned it down. I guided her under the covers, pulling them to her shoulder. She gripped them tightly around herself.
"We'll talk in the morning," I whispered.
"Where will you sleep?" she asked.
"I have my own…accommodations," I replied.
"Will you be here? When I wake up?" Her tone was desperate.
"I can't seem to stop myself." I tried to make it a joke, but it sounded hollow.
I turned out the lights. I stood for a moment, staring at her. She wasn't delicate or fragile. She was more than capable of taking care of herself; she'd done so for three years, even when she wasn't a werewolf. But she needed help, despite her capabilities. Could I help her? I didn't know how, but I very much wanted to try.
Sabine opened her eyes, and stared straight at me. "I can smell you and I can see you. Why are you standing there? It's creepy."
I laughed out loud, again, and smiled widely, then left her. It was creepy. I was creepy. No more of that. I was a scary enough monster already.
