Vale… Is Not a Vampire?

Crawling up to a sitting position I surveyed the blood and carnage around me, wondering how it, or I, had gotten here. The last thing I remembered was…

My life, his hands.

After that, my mind was a whirlwind of sounds, scents, and experiences without meaning.

Gone feral?

I shuddered, letting my body fall back down to the ground. I lay like that for a couple of seconds, before flipping myself over to look up at the blurry outline of the canopy above and the sunlight filtering through.

That was the most stupid, suicidal thing I had ever done.

I clutched at my chest, feeling for the amulet. It was still there, over instead of under my shirt, but it was still there.

Shoving it back towards safety I tried to figure out how I had gotten from that… to this. I had tossed Onar my amulet, had lost control of my body. He had been speaking, or maybe screaming, right before I had passed out.

I tried, but I could not stitch those last moments back together. Too much of it was an incoherent mess, most of it was simply blank in my mind. One small detail stood out though. It was little more than a vague collection of sounds, but when I pieced those back together…

… monster … kill Shae …

This part disturbed me greatly. Yet no matter how much I thought back on it, I could not recall any more.

Aaah no.

Please don’t let me have killed Shae.

All I really knew was that I had somehow gotten my amulet back. Either given back by Onar or…

No!

I dismissed the thought as soon as it had come up. I did not see myself capable of that. Then again… I turned my head to the side, to my little collection of entrails and bones. I had not seen myself capable of this kind of wanton slaughter of forest wildlife either.

I tasted my saliva to be sure, in search of any lingering hints that could tell me more about what I had snacked on. There was nothing unusual there, only the tiniest aftertaste of blood, some rabbit, maybe a bit of badger. But maybe people tasted the same as badger. I had no idea.

Think about it later.

I forced what little worry I felt down, embraced this strange, unnatural calmness enveloping me. I needed information first, needed to figure out what kind of trouble I was in. The panicking I could do later, when I was safe.

Maybe I’m in shock?

Can I even? Experience shock?

Pretend shock?

I shelved that thought, forced myself back up to a sitting position, and patted down my clothes. The outfit I had gotten from Meg was dirty and stained, though not in as bad a state as I had expected. That hopefully meant that the carnage I had inflicted had been relatively subdued, maybe even mostly limited to this little clearing.

The lack of gooey flesh stains probably meant I hadn’t rotted too badly either before I had gotten the amulet back. I couldn’t be certain though, whatever damage my body had suffered from the sun exposure had long since healed.

My gloves were another matter entirely. I had already been down one glove after Shae’s tackle-dive. Now the other one had it even worse. Without weapons, I had clearly resorted to other means of acquiring food.

No weapons.

Right. I would need to collect those, and everything else I had left behind. At least my blade and my horse. I would not survive long without either of those. I had made a small cache in the forest for my blade and most of my other stuff before confronting Onar. I knew where that was. Now if only I knew where I was. I would need to climb in a tree for that, get a look around from a higher vantage point. Later. After dark. When I could actually see.

Ha, I don’t even know what day it is.

Since all of the intelligent action involved things I did not want to think about, I wandered aimlessly through the forest. I stopped shortly after I had started because strolling aimlessly when I had no idea where I was, was reckless. I revised my wandering to backtracking my steps. But with no idea what kind of horrors I might be backtracking towards I stopped doing that as well.

I clawed at a tree in an attempt to work off the desperation that was slowly seeping in through my unnatural calmness. It was like breaking a dam.

I messed up.

I really messed it up.

I messed it up so, so bad!

Whimpering I slunk down to the ground. Sitting with my back against a tree I braided and rebraided my hair until I was calm once more. Once I had my rising panic under control I picked up a stick and began whittling at it to pass the time.

All too soon I realized I was doing so with my claws. Unnerved I took a couple of shuddering breaths, before tossing the stick as far as I could. With how light it was it landed only a pitiful distance away. Not wanting to be reminded of its presence and too drained to get up I shuffled over to the other side of the tree and began rebraiding my hair once more.

Despite how much I tried not to, reflecting on my actions happened eventually. With so little to occupy myself with, and everything about my current situation to remind me, it was inevitable.

Reflection did not bring me the clarity I had hoped for.

I really, really messed it up.

All messed up now.

Aaaaaagh!

No matter how much I tried, my thoughts were too much of a jumble. Raw emotion, debilitating guilt, pushed aside every attempt at rationality and reasoning. I could fix that so easily, turn that feeling part of me off. I did not dare, afraid of the consequences if I did. I got to my feet, and after ensuring I was truly alone out here, I screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed, probably louder than I ever had. My voice did not get raw, my vocal cords did not wear out. They healed faster than I could damage them, and I screamed.

It was cathartic.

It scared away all wildlife for miles around. I could tell with such clarity and ease because I had never bothered to clamp down on my senses again. Not since…

The bunkhouse?

Onar’s barn?

Does it even matter?

I found out I didn’t care anymore. It was harrowing and strangely soothing at the same time. I could tell where the food was. I could tell where all the food was with such ease. Here was this part of me that was not human, this piece of me that I had shoved away deep, deep, deep. I was fine with it.

Feeling slightly better after my outburst I returned to the clearing where I had ‘woken up’ and cleaned up the mess I had made there. Then I set out in search of water. With my nose leading the way I soon found what I assumed was the Maru, the river that ran past Birnstead. It was a point of reference, but I still had no idea where I was, didn’t even know if I was upstream or downstream.

I drank some water, freshened up, washed the worst of the grime out of my borrowed clothes.

Washing.

Been doing a lot of this lately.

Should have become a washerwoman instead of a hunter.

I surprised myself with my own joke.

Here you go sir, all clean again. Don’t mind the rips and tears, just a little incident with… rats. Yes, rats. Not claws, just rats.

I wanted to weep, still could not.

I rested while my clothes dried, naked except for my underclothes. It was stupid dangerous. It did not matter. Without my gloves, there was no point in covering up. Maybe not even with them. I couldn’t hide anymore, not with how I had exposed myself.

I’ll never be able to hide again.

Not as Vale Bryce.

I wondered if I would need a new name. I wondered if they were already hunting me. I wondered how long I had left until they found me. I wondered how long I had left to live.

Weeks?

Days?

Hours?

So much was out of my hands now. So many mistakes, so many stupid, idiotic choices. Stupid. So stupid, stupid, stupid. All I had done by returning to Birnstead was throw my life away. Yet still, even with all of these stupid mistakes, there were so many good memories I never wanted to give up.

“My sweet, sweet little guardian angel…”

“Do you eat babies?”

“Vale’s going to teach me magic.”

“Good, and now the other one.”

Aaaah…. Fuck!

Fuck. Fuck. Damn. Fuck!

I buried my face in the dirt because I could no longer stand to keep looking up at the sky. I did my best impression of tearful sobbing, because even tearless, going through the motions was better than doing nothing. And all throughout I could not stop thinking about how the dope had been gay for Limn.

Aaaah… it’s all just soooo messed up.

Why did it get this way? Why! Why! Why!

‘m sorry dad. Really, really, truly… sorry.

Your little ‘Tina’s fucked it up. Don’t think you can save me from this.

So sorry.

Help?