Reading old fiction I wrote is disturbing. I feel like I'm seeing things in my psyche that I shouldn't, or that I've forgotten. It's sad that I figured something out about myself only to forget. I feel like I'm replaying old dreams or very very early memories.
At least it was written. Old fiction from 4 years ago (I was 12):
I was in what looked to be a rundown castle. There were only about two more dilapidated walls, and I was chained to one of them. The roof was completely gone, star and moon light wafted down on my pale legs. An old elk tree grew next to the wall opposite of me, and laterns hung from the strong branches.
A tall figure stepped forward, pulling the cloak off his head. Evan. He took his place next to Uriel.
"Chailyn, shhh, be still." Uriel whispered, tightening his grip on my hand. I gulped down a scream.
"What are they doing?" I asked quietly.
"Your ceremony." Evan interjected, pulling Uriel away from me.
I was quiet. It was no use asking questions.
A blurr of activity passed by me, something I could not and care not to remember even now. All I remember is, that in the end, Uriel was shirtless, baggy black dress pants pulled up a little like capris.
Evan held a dagger in his hand, and all the other people had left. Evan moved with the dagger, letting it catch the moonlight as he said a few things in his old language. Uriel was standing against the wall with me. His fingers finally interlaced with mine. He had a stern, determined look on his face I had only seen once on his handsome features. I didn't struggle agianst my bindings anymore. Uriel's touch seemed to calm everything but my heart, which was beating like a lab-rat's. Finally, the stream of misty and woodlike words coming from Evan's mouth stopped, and he turned to Uriel and I.
"Do you accept the virgin?" Evan asked carefully, meeting Uriel's intense stare.
"Yes." He nodded sharply.
"And you just expect us to welcome her, also?" Evan's sudden change of mood scared me. His voice had gone from being stern and quiet to something a drill sirgent would use on a private.
"You have absolutely no consideration, boy!" Evan shouts at Uriel. "You take a poor mortal," Evan shot his eyes at me in a violent gesture, and it made me jump. "And you bite her." He said huskily, and darted ahead.
He smacked Uriel against the castle wall. He gripped his face in his hands violently, and moved forward like he was going to force a kiss on Uriel, but instead, stopped a centimeter from his lips and knashed his teeth almost against Uriel's mouth. Uriel didn't flinch, didn't so much as smile. Just returned the hard glance
"And... You bit her, you sick son of a bitch..." Evan said much more softly and quietly than before, his voice remorseful. He dropped his hands from Uriel's face in disgust, like Uriel's skin was coated in acid.
"I'm sorry." Uriel said quietly, starring at his feet, but the hard look of defiance remained. Evan held his hand up in a way telling Uriel he would have none of it. He was quiet for a moment, biting his knuckle. Then he met my eyes.
"Uriel. You have made a poor decision. Did she agree to this? Did you tell her of all the consequences before you gave in to your primal urges?" Evan spat at Uriel's feet, not waiting for his answer and continued. "You weakling. We have blood here, was this neck -" He pulled a brown lock of hair away from my moonlit collarbone. "Was this neck really that tempting? Wait, what is that?"
Evan sniffed the air lightly in question. He met my eyes in amazement, and then looked at me in hunger. He grabbed my upper arms, and pressed his face to my neck, his lips lightly playing with the tender skin as they brushed my collarbone, as he sniffed and nuzzled my neck. He smelled it, and then stopped there froze there for a second, and then pulled away quickly.
"Perfume." Evan grinned, jumping away from me like I had toxic fumes coming from me.
"Yes. Perfu-" Uriel squeezed my hand a little tighter than was comfortable in a silencing motion. I nodded discreetly, but squezed Uriel's hand back tightly.
Evan paced in front of us, starring straight ahead of him in determination. Uriel and I watched him with wary and apprehensive eyes.
"No matter how tempting a mortal virgin's skin is, there is no excuse for this."
"I realize this, sire."
"Don't patronize me, boy." Evan glarred at him. That look scared me, but at least he wasn't shouting.
Uriel nodded.
"You know what the consequence for biting a virgin mortal is, don't you?" Evan licked his dagger.
Uriel met his eyes in a frightened stare, a brake his calm demeanor. He broke the glance quickly, starring at his feet while he nodded his head slowly.
I looked from both of the boys, confusion plastered on my face. Evan gave me a look telling me he would not answer me now.
In a flash of speed, skill, and strength, Evan grabbed Uriel's hand, ripping it out of my own grasp and taking it sharply in his own.
He cut five long gashes. Two parellell to each other, three lines holding the structure up.
"III"
One on each of Uriel's palms. The roman numeral for three. Uriel cried out quickly, eyes filling with unshed tears.
I knew I was next, and I started to scream.
"This isn't funny you guys, don't. Please God, help me, don't..." I pleaded, on the verge of tears. Evan stepped up to me, starring me down.
"For saying -his- name in my presence," Evan said quietly, and I didn't have to ask who he meant. Pleading to God.
He gripped my right hand, cut two long horizontal lines, and I bit down on my lower lip to supress a scream. Then he cut three quick gashes for the three lines, his dagger flashing as pain skittered through my body. I opened my mouth in awe, and he grinned evilly, and cut my other hand quickly. "You get deeper cuts than your partner here." I bit down on my tongue. Tears fell from my eyes, even though I was doing everything to fight them. Evan saw the tears running down my face, and kissed them quickly, licking the saltly liquid away from my cheeks.
He pushed Uriel in front of me, and then, to my amazement and horror, was able cut his own hands like ours. Two III's all together, one on each palm. He undid my hand bindings, and held my wrist.
He stood in between Uriel and I, forming a small circle of three, we held hands. He pressed his bleeding palms to my Uriel and my hands, and winced when our skin came in contact. We squeezed our hands together tightly, closing our eyes. I noticed the little Band-Aid on the back of Evan's hand, where he had cut himself before. I suddenly realized that I had Bathory blood running through me, the blood of some crazy, lesbian, blood crazy Baroness. Uriel's family's blood.
I was not scared, and I wouldn't run away.
All intentions of running away left my mind after Evan had kissed my tears away, and now I knew I'd first die than leave this instant.
We parted from Evan's instruction, and then, motioning for us to repeat him, kissed both our palms, tongue lapping slightly at our wound. Uriel then kissed my hand and Evan's, and I licked Evan and Uriel's hand. Then Evan broke away from me. He turned around, and on a tree stump I hadn't noticed, lay an old bowl filled with black liquid. Hot ink, I recognized the smell. Evan grabbed the bowl, stuck a paintbrush in, and then I watched in utter fascination as he painted in his wound.
Then he grabbed Uriel's wrist, lightly painting in the gashes. Uriel winced.
And then it was my turn.
It was a tattoo, I realized. I knew ninth graders who would cut themselves with scissors, bit off the end of a pen, and let the ink drip into the wound, thus creating a permanent mark on themselves.
Evan pulled cloth bindings out of his trousers, and bound all our hands tightly, and I bound Evan's hand for him, reminding him and I of the time in the closet at Uriel's house shortly before.
As soon as we were patched up, I heard raucous laughter and appluase come from all around us. Suddenly, many candles lit up around us, revealing shadows that were really people. They came out of the shadows, they're black robes blending in with the dark. They talked and laughed, dicussing Evan's performance. Performance? He must have had done it many times before, except I had not noticed any other tattoos on his shirtless body. It did not matter, I was in ecstatic state of happiness, Uriel holding my left hand, Evan holding my right - despite the bindings it was good to have their skin against mine, even if it was just their fingers.
"Grand job, boy!" The priest patted Evan on the back, who grinned in response.
I got many pats on the back, and people gripped my hand, looking at Evan's handiwork. "Wonderful." They exclaimed. "He can even bandage perfectly."
"What now?" I got up on my tiptoes, and hissed in Evan's ear. He turned to me, and grinned. Uriel gave me a questioning look.
"Whatever you want." Evan said lightly, and moved his mouth towards my face, I closed my eyes lightly. He kissed each eyelid, still a bit damp with tears. "Are you all right? That must have been difficult to swallow." He said quiter, only loud enough for me to hear. I nodded sedately.
