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Post by oliver on Jul 29, 2008 1:21:05 GMT -5
The haze was clearing.
A curtain of red falling away and he could feel himself slowly crawling out of the rabbit hole again. The drop into the abyss had gone deeper than he'd expected, leaving him disoriented and light headed.
There were too many sounds, too much noise as he slowly came back to himself...
Then why do I hear the slow beat of a human heart?
There was something, someone in his arms, squirming kitten weak and saying something to him, but it was all garbled. As if it were choking. Hot, spicy and sweet warmth all over his own tongue, dripping from his lips, staining his hands and immaculate shirt.
Gold eyes blinked back to dark hues, the slow and eerie feeling of a thousand spiders skittering down his back brought him that much closer to wakefulness and yet, he wasn't sure if he wanted to. It was like waking up to another nightmare.
"H-help me..."
Horror struck faster than lightning as the tailor looked down with a gasp to see where his insanity had brought him this time; Out in the middle of a field, a weakening man in his arms, blood pouring from a pair of puncture wounds.
He did that.
"N-no," he whimpered, "N-no! S-sir please! Hold on!"
Whether the man found it odd that his murderer was now pressing his hand over the gushing wound, he didn't say. And in the whirl of fear and death his eyes began to slide shut, even as Oliver begged for him to stay, to live.
"D-don't leave me please..." he whispered as he buried his face into a crimson soaked chest, "I'm sorry, I-I'm so sorry... Please forgive me."
He never wanted this to happen, all he knew was that one second he'd been at his shop working on Hayaki's garment, then it was black and now...
"I'm so sorry."
Still he clung on tightly to the body, this frail gift that was mortality, keening softly as he heard the last few dull thuds of his heart beat valiantly against Death's call. Trying to defy the inevitable. But even then it was just too late.
No...
Oliver pulled back, face marked with blood and tears, looking down at the lifeless face of the man he'd just slain. And instead he saw the blank face of his beloved, staring at him in disbelief, lips slack and unmoving. Dead.
The vampire, the tailor, the killer, threw his head back and howled his fear into the sky with bloody fangs bared.
And the thunder howled back.
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Post by hayaki on Jul 29, 2008 1:33:15 GMT -5
Hayaki had spotted this field earlier, but he'd been too tired to stop. And tonight...
He felt restless. He'd stopped by Oliver's shop, but the tailor wasn't there. His lights were on; the door was unlocked, and Pyewacket was anxious about something. Feeling slightly apprehensive, Hayaki stayed in the shop a short time, torn between staying and leaving, unsure, unhappy and most of all, worried.
Finally, his restlessness drove him out. He left a note for Oliver on the table, smiling as he wrote the words.
Oliver,
I hope you're ok. The shop was unlocked; I came by to visit you, but you were gone. Probably just stepped out for something. I'll come back by later. I left you a surprise...I hope you like it. It's wrapped up by your bed. You can open it if I'm not here.
I'll see you shortly, ok?
Love,
Hayaki.
He stared at the note a moment, feeling the ridiculous urge to scratch out the word love. Not because he didn't think he felt that way, but it seemed so...sudden. Random. Stifling the urge, he set the note onto the table and wandered out, pausing to give Pyewacket a quick rub.
Then he'd wandered. Before long, he felt his feet pulling him towards that feild. He hadn't expected it; right outside of Londen, straight out of some olden book, a feild of bright straw. He'd admired the colors earlier, but now, he wanted to see them under the moonlit skies. Smiling, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, then stepped through the gate, noticing it was unlocked.
He wandered through the grass, sniffing, feeling the tensions of the day falling away. This was so unreal. So different from his life in New York. He loved it here; he wanted to stay forever...
He caught sight of someone crouching or kneeling on the ground, over someone else. He stopped, surprised, sure at first he'd stumbled on some lover's tryst; the man was cradling the other in his arms...
But something was wrong. Something about the way the man lay. Too still. Too limp...without meaning too, Hayaki stepped towards them, his breath stilling in his chest. He recognized that coat...
"O..Oliver?" He breathed, his voice trembling. He didn't understand what was going on. Reaching out with trembling fingers, he laid them carefully on Oliver's shoulder. That's not Oliver; it just looks like his coat. This isn't Oliver. When he turns around, it will be a stranger's face. And there's nothing wrong with the other person; it's just a trick of my mind. An illusion.
Please let it be an illusion...
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Post by oliver on Jul 29, 2008 1:52:08 GMT -5
"Bye, baby bunting
Daddy's gone a hunting
To get a little rabbit skin
To wrap his baby bunting in..."
Softly crooned words filtered into the air, the reluctant vampire cradling his unwanted prey like a precious child, rocking him as he stared through glassy eyes into nothing. It was all happening again, everything he had worked so hard for, lived so long for, he could feel it slipping through his fingers like ribbons of silk. Running his fingers through short brown hair, trying his hardest not to imagine them as softer, longer strands, offering comfort to the dead.
Too late.
Always too late.
The blood now residing in his own veins made him feel sick, the tailor wanted to so badly to rip it out from his own body and never hear of it ever again. But he couldn't, it was done and there was no turning back.
So lost in the pain and madness, he didn't hear the familiar footsteps, smell the scent he'd learned to love so well, the heartbeat that was his lullaby.
His very own.
His Hayaki.
"O..Oliver?"
A choked sob popped from his lips, his arms tightening around the corpse now paling in his hold.
"Oh dear sir..." he husked out through a tight throat, "Y-you shouldn't be here. No no... not at all."
There was a slightly sing-song quality to his voice, refusing to face the human he'd fallen in love with. Not wanting Hayaki to see what he had invited into his embrace each night, lips that he kissed now tainted red.
"You should be running."
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Post by hayaki on Jul 29, 2008 1:59:10 GMT -5
Hayaki heard Oliver's sob and gasped; he didn't understand, but something in him was screaming at him. Run, run, run...
"You should be running."
The words, from Oliver's lips, blending in with the frantic beating of his heart. It was surreal; licking his lips, Hayaki stepped closer still, his body trembling now. "Oliver..." he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. He didn't know why he was crying, only that everything was so strange. So frightening.
He gasped, trying to wipe the tears away. "L...let's go back to the shop." he whispered, begging, his eyes refusing to move to the
corpse
body in Oliver's arms. "P..please, let's...let's just go...h...home." He begged again, his fingers tightening on Oliver's shoulder. "Please..." he sounded about three years old, his voice ragged with tears.
He suddenly had to see. He had to see Oliver's face. Fast, he reached out with wildly shaking hands, gripping Oliver's chin, and pulled his face around to the light.
Blood, blood, blood, ohmygodthat'sblood...his lips are bloody...Oliver...
Hayaki could only stare at him, his eyes wide with horror, blank with fear. Terror. Tears still trickled down his face, unnoticed, and he froze like a rabbit staring into the eyes of a wolf.
Oliver!
His soul screamed, but all that came out of his lips was a strangled, terrified, pleading whisper.
"Oliver..."
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Post by oliver on Jul 29, 2008 2:32:48 GMT -5
Hurting him.
He was killing the one he loved too, worse than the way he'd finished off this poor soul. Fear, sadness and saline scent of tears became the noose that tightened around his neck, the pain of the new heart he was now breaking seeped deep under his skin.
"Oliver..."
He wasn't responding, still gazing into the distance, the leaves of the willow drifting like a wave as the wind flowed through the branches. A string of tears in the form of leaves gracing the air in a delicate dance.
"Can you see that Master Hayaki? They are weeping too..."
"L...let's go back to the shop."
"Oh but I can't... I can't ever go back. I'm so far from home."
"P..please, let's...let's just go...h...home. Please..."
Then he was held in warm, trembling hands, forcing him to see the terror and confusion he was causing. This was supposed to be man he'd sworn to love and cherish beyond himself, to protect against himself... To never hurt.
All those promises broken in a single fell blow.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
I'm so sorry...
"Oliver..."
Guilty, forlorn eyes of sloe focused back to his beloved, letting him see the 'man' he'd brought to bed, shared his nights with... And he gave a sad half smile as he continued to keep the cooling body close to him like an infant with his security blanket.
"Funny is it not?"
He whispered, shaking his head slowly.
"This man could be someone of utmost importance, he could have found a cure for cancer, could have been the one last living man to save the entire universe... He could have a family, waiting for him at home right now, children anticipating the return of their bread winner maybe even a beautiful wife missing her one true love..."
Through the babble a single tear fell from his eyes where it had brimmed, another blink and two more dripped down onto the blood soaked shirt of his living dead-doll.
"But he will never see another sunlight, never see his loved ones... Never laugh or cry again and do you know why Master Hayaki?"
Oliver raised his head, lips parted slightly to reveal the fangs that were suddenly so obvious, tracks of tears mingling with the drying claret.
"Because I did it, I was the hand that swung he scythe and cut the thread. This is what I am, what I truly am my love..."
And that was all he could say.
I'm sorry...
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Post by hayaki on Jul 29, 2008 2:39:18 GMT -5
Hayaki released Oliver's chin, his mouth falling open. He couldn't think. He couldn't hear. All he could see were the fangs in Oliver's mouth, still stained with the blood of the man he held in his arms.
He shook his head, like a child demanding reality to change. This wasn't real. Vampires weren't real. Life wasn't like this. Tears streamed down his face, barely noticed in the rush of pain. He stared at Oliver, his heart breaking in his eyes-confusion, terror, pain...
Disbelief.
Still shaking his head, he suddenly gathered his legs under him. He had to get away. This was a dream. A very, very bad dream. He would run, and he would wake, safe and secure, held in Oliver's arms. This wasn't real. Gasping, he tore his eyes from Oliver's face and turned, running blindly, his hands groping out before him. He fell once or twice in his wild running, gasping, sobbing in terror.
When he finally stopped running, he had no idea where he was. It could have been in the middle of a street, and he wouldn't have noticed. Falling to his knees, he wrapped his arms around his chest, sobbing, his face pressed to the ground. Like a child who's world had just collapsed; everything lost. Everything grey.
He prayed, like a child prays. Save me. Help me. Save me. He didn't even know who he was crying out to. Save me.
Save me.
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Post by oliver on Jul 29, 2008 2:59:58 GMT -5
Funny.
He'd almost half expected him to stay, expected the man to bring him into his arms and whisper in his ear and tell him that everything would be ok, that it was all just a nightmare that would disappear come morning. That he still loved him, still needed him...
What a fool.
Oh he had no real illusions about how Hayaki's reaction would be like, for days since he realised he loved the man, Oliver had been counting the minutes, dreading the time when he'd have to reveal himself to the young man.
But not like this...
Never like this.
He knew he would run, in fact he was glad that he ran, at least that's what he told himself. Then again, believing in something and seeing something were two entirely different things and now that he had to watch as Hayaki drew back from him in fear. Run from him in a cloud of misery and despair.
It hurt like no other pain he'd felt before.
Twisted inside like the branches of an old gnarled tree and threatened to tear him apart from within. So bad was the agony that he clung on desperately to the corpse until he could almost hear the bones creak and the muscles give way. Oliver wanted to call Hayaki back, but he knew it was already too late to seek any form of salvation.
He had indeed condemned them both.
And it was only the beginning.
"Bye, baby bunting
Daddy's gone a hunting
To get a little lambie skin
To wrap his baby bunting in..."
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