**This is a rough one on Jazzy, but there's always a light at the end of a very narrow, dank, smelly tunnel. We'll get there. Promise! Oh, and you who are slightly squeamish of Jasper-angst or startled by Maria's EViLNeSS, You may have trouble stomaching the beginning scene. Enjoy...?**
**AND i would love to shout out to .Hope.44 for being my 'shrink' in this situation. She gave me great advice and you should all know that she is made of AWESOME! This chapter: dedicated to her and her helpfulness and fun stories--but i dunno if she really wants a chappie like this dedicated. I'll save you a happy one, girrlll! :D**
Ch. 4--Loss
I guess her anger and lust overshadowed all of my own emotions, but I twisted her intensity to at least match my own, to not become lost in her fury also.
She had forced herself into the tub, soaking her dress. She had burrowed her knee into my side, and I had cried out in pain, but she silenced me with her hand. I couldn't understand why she was making this so terrible for me. I had endured this pain for her, and now, of all times, she wants me. She's wanted me before, and it has always been a chore to nod and bite my tongue, but this was impossible.
My hands rose to defend myself, but she gripped them with terrible anger and smashed them into the tub's lips. My forearm seared with fresh pain, and I twisted from her in desperation.
The water, pink with old human blood, sloshed on the floor as I struggled beneath her. Any other day I would easily toss her off, but my bites were hissing with heated pain.
Her arms were wrapping around me, pinning me. Her hands were all over me, and I tried to holler, but she only gagged me with her tiny fingers. I inhaled air, struggling to get out of the water, away from Maria.
Somehow, I managed to make a crevice in the tub so she slid in beside me. I clawed at the dry edges, trying to escape her fingers. At one point, I felt her nails rake across my back, leaving slashes in my already misshapen skin texture. I arched my back and hollered, letting my hands lash out in claws. I fell from the tub, sprawling on the tiles. I snatched a towel and tried my best to cover myself, for I was planning to make a run for Peter's room, where I would at least have back up.
I burst through the bathroom door, but my blasted side shot with fresh pain. I gasped and fell to the floor, crumpling like a scarecrow.
I squinted into the light, and saw Maria standing above me.
My breathing was heavy and ragged as I feared what she would do. She stared at me, which seems like nothing, but to me, it was agonizing.
She felt such burning and disgusted pity for me that I writhed under her eyes. She scoffed at me and whisked out of her bedroom. The door slammed, and I lay there, on her floor. Water puddled around me as I lay on my back, which stung with fresh wounds. The towel draped across my hips, damp and sorry. I was a disgrace. I let my eyes fall close.
Peter found me very soon after, I supposed that Maria had gone to him and asked for him to get his sorry friend. I could tell he was trying to mask his true pity. I asked for a moment as I retched on my hands and knees, wishing for vomit to come out and relieve me. I was still making desperate guttural noises down the hall, wrapped in a robe Peter had brought.
Peter lay me on the grimy couch in his quarters. I couldn't tell if Brennan was there, lurking in the shadows, trying to hide his pity, or if he was just gone. I shivered beneath a blanket. I was amazed that a vampire could blank out so much. I hardly ever had before until today. It'd been three times today.
"Jasper?" Peter's concerned voice intended to be kind and comforting, but it was like nails raining upon me. The pity, the sadness, all for my broken down state. What a sight I must have been, still trying to puke out my problems while I was wrapped in a wet and borrowed robe on a moldy couch. I coughed violently before Peter continued.
"I have to tell you something." He knelt beside me, to meet my eye level. For a moment I was taken aback by his sudden nervousness. Why should he be? He should feel pity and anger at me. My back stung, laced with the dull pounding of a bruise.
"I am leaving this place."
I swallowed and scrambled to sit up, digging my elbows into the mushy cushions. I felt my chest begin to heave and fall monstrously. What did he say? He couldn't have said…but his emotions were so gritty and raw and--
"No! Peter, you cannot leave me here!" I snarled desperately under my breath as I balled my fist around his crisp shirt collar. His eyes suggested that he suspected this would be my reaction, considering how crazed I probably looked. He sighed and gently pried my fingers from his shirt. I wasn't calmed.
I sat up, and I suddenly felt rather small in the navy blue and dampened fabric that hugged me. It fell around my bare shoulders in thick, heavy folds as I became animated with disagreement. I was panting heavily as the possible results of being alone here weighed in my brain…
"Jasper! Easy! Calm down." Peter's reassuring hands touched my shoulders, letting me sink into the pitiful couch. "Nothing is set in stone."
I shook my head. "You cannot leave me!" The thoughts of leaving Maria's quarters every morning without him to lead me back to sanity was mind jarring. He bit his lip.
"It's not certain, Jasper. I'm sorry I worried you."
I found that my strength to speak had vanished. I shivered in the wet robe and let my eyes close.
"We have n-newborn…d-duty tonight." Peter stood up and fidgeted with his shirt. I opened my eyes, feeling them burn. His sudden dread prickled my skin, but I didn't want to ask what was wrong. I turned my neck to face away.
"Borrow some of my clothes and meet me in the cellar at sundown. You know the drill." Peter whispered and left me. The door clicked ominously, leaving me in the cold room. Brennan was not there.
After a few moments of sitting in the robe's wetness, I stood up and let it fall to the ground. My back still smarted, but I did not want to inspect it in the mirror right now. I didn't have a mirror in my own room for obvious reasons, and usually Peter was there to steer me from his own. I grimaced and walked to it, unable to break away.
I looked at myself, and felt shame burn in my face. The scars were every where--absolutely every where. Like a disease, rendering me a disturbing sight. I slowly turned my trembling body to look at my back.
My skin looked yellowish in the pale light that escaped into the room. The deep shadows threw darkness around my scars. Four long gnashes reached from my left shoulder blade to my right hip. I stepped away, my feet clumsy and heavy. I masked my face with a hand as to not meet my own agonized eyes.
I stumbled to Peter's drawers and rummaged through until I found a suitable outfit. I didn't bother to perfect the buttons--I missed a few and they were uneven, but would newborns on death row really care?
I ran a hand through my still matted hair and opened the door, letting the stinging light wash over me. The fluorescents made me feel like I was in some sort of insane asylum. To be locked away with only myself…would that be better or worse? I went down the hall in silence as vampires walked the halls around me, not stopping to speak to each other or glance at anything but what was in front of them.
--...--
I looked over to Peter to see he was grimacing. I felt my spine go rigid as I continued to dump the severed limbs into the fire. I supposed the smell of burning vampire flesh was not appealing, but Peter never had such a reaction to it. Earlier, he had stopped dumping to rub his temples and sigh. I had wondered what was wrong, after all, I was having a lot of problems around here.
"That's the last of that one. Bring in the next one, will you, Peter?" I asked emotionlessly. Peter called up the dank staircase.
I heard the door creak open, and suddenly, the room swirled with fear. I straightened at the sudden change--the newborns didn't know what was to become of them; why was there fear?
I realized that it was Peter's fear. "Peter...?" My voice shook, and I turned to look at him, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.
His gaze was upon the newborn descending the stairs.
She was a thin thing, and rather tall for a female--probably reaching Peter's same height. Her hair was very vibrant, even under the dim light of the cellar. It sparkled orange with near magenta slashed into it. Her eyes were very large and innocent, and Peter's next emotion explained it all to me.
Love.
That's what I had to call it, for I had barely ever felt it before. Only once did I feel it before now, and it was diminished because of me.
I had been out hunting, when I found two people on a trail. I sought them out, but before their delicious blood lured me into insanity, I felt the soothing and warmth radiating from them.
I had crouched behind a tree, the thirst burning a hole in my throat, and I truly did not want to kill this couple. They were holding hands, looking at each other in a way I had never seen.
I had blinked and then leaned forth to relish more of this new emotion, but found myself over their dead bodies. I had killed them with no evidence but a slightly quenched thirst and the bruising and pounding fear they had felt as I had struck them inside my head.
I blinked now, but this love remained, clogging the room. Peter acted quickly, taking advantage of my stunned state. He dashed to the rear exit door and tore it open. The cool fall wind crept inside at first, then blew around me, tugging at my hair and Peter's own shirt.
"Run, Charlotte!" he bellowed, and even I was partially taken aback by this female's beauty. Her silken dress became a blur around her as she darted down the stairs with nimble feet. She whooshed out of the door and was gone into the black night. I gasped, suddenly able to move.
"Peter." I whispered as my friend turned to me with apologetic eyes. I could feel his sorrow, but I could also feel the unrelenting love he'd had to hide for so long. We stared at each other for the longest time it seemed, when he looked away and whispered just loud enough for me, "I am sorry my friend. Do not come after us, I beg of you. Maria will--" he swallowed with pain.
I shook my head slowly, as he watched with wide eyes…he believed I was saying I would tell Maria. I straightened. "You are safe, Peter."
His fear cleansed to relief, and he turned to the open door.
I ran to him then, and embraced my true friend. He had been so kind to me, and never jealous when Maria favored me best. He knew I didn't want it that way, and he would always help me through.
"Good bye." I hissed into his ear as I hugged him. I felt him nod, and he was gone.
The door slammed shut, and I was alone with only the sound of the fire crackling to be company. The reality burned more that the piercing venom. I wasn't sure how Peter viewed me, for certain, but I loved him like a brother. We were so alike, and we looked after each other. What ever drew ourselves to each other was beyond me--I was a mangled general that stood at the leader's side like a lapdog while he was an intelligent and strong vampire that always knew the correct path.
Everything felt bitterly cold, and it almost felt like I had just watched Peter die on the battlefield. I supposed I should have taken his earlier warning more seriously, but I had foolishly decided to block it out after my depressed state. Of course he would want to leave--especially if he had a love. I couldn't help but be envious…it was what I had wanted for so long.
Most male vampires longed for the lust part, and I had that, but that didn't make me feel complete. That didn't make me smile when I stirred in her bed. It didn't make me fight with more meaning, knowing I had to keep alive for someone special.
I don't know how long I stared at the door, but after a while the cellar door creaked open and footsteps clomped on the sour wooden stairs. I rolled up my sleeves and turned to face the next newborn I would have to kill.
Alone.