Chapter 14 - RedemptionDiscussion Link: http://www.let-the-right-one-in.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=12&t=656
Chapter 14 Disclaimer: Back and forth. Eli paced from one side of the shed to the other. Then she sat down for awhile. Then she stood up and paced some more. Then she cracked open the door a little and peeked out. Then repeated the whole thing again. Hungry. So hungry. Like itching inside my veins. It was maddening. To distract herself, she explored every corner of the room, and examined every object inside. Snow shovels, bags of salt, stacks of orange traffic cones, rope, tire chains, drum liners, tarps, metal poles, tools . . . none of it interested her. At last, when she could think of nothing else to do, she sat down and examined her own pockets. She found a half-used package of Necco wafers in the left side, and a small scrap of paper, folded over, in the right. The paper was fragile, and looked like it had gone through the washing machine. Curious, she carefully peeled it open. Written on the paper with a pencil, barely legible, was: D. Singmaster - Notes on Rubik's 'Magic Cube' She stared at the items, frowning. Why would she have candy in her pocket? And the note— . . . Not my pants. Suddenly she closed her eyes, bent over, and tucked her head between her thighs. She inhaled deeply. Looked up and stared into space with a puzzled expression. Boy smell. ‘My Oskar’ Smell. Oskar. My Oskar. A dam broke inside her mind. Hated that candy but ate it anyways I loved your hug Oskar why are you in my tub You’re so warm I liked your Rubik’s Cube 43 quintillion permutations I could learn every one of them It was in the tomb with me I didn’t recognize it but it was your present to me You eat too much candy You’re sweet so sweet and thoughtful I liked the Cube book read it from cover to cover and the Egg book too Run with me and lets catch a deer Oskar Let’s go play in the pool and kiss You dressed me in your pants the night I fell asleep and you woke me up with your tapping Your tapping woke me up but now I’m different so different Not like I want to be but there’s nothing I can do about it The Darkness is in control I slaughter, WILL slaughter, must, MUST— She cried out, gasped and put a hand to her mouth. Tears burst from her eyes and she shivered violently from head to toe. Then she began to scream as she had never screamed before—an agonized, terrible wailing, projected at inhuman volume, that rose from the little shed and pulsed into the cold night air. It was like the scream of an infant who is wrenched away from its parent; the cry of a husband who learns that his wife has just died; the wail of a mother whose baby is slain in front of her eyes. It was all of these, but far worse. It was the anguished cry of one who sees the Gates of Heaven closing, and knows that he is falling; falling away from light and hope, and into a pit of fire where utter damnation awaits. Falling to a place of irretrievable darkness, despair and degradation; a place cut off from all goodness, where he will be forced to repeat unspeakably evil acts until the end of Eternity. Her crying rose, undulating, across the parking lot. And because she was grieving so hard for her most precious friend and lover who would most surely die at her own hands, Eli did not hear the police car pull quietly up to the shed, or hear the officer get out of his car and approach the door with his gun drawn. * * * Oskar had not realized how many belongings Eli and he had accumulated until he started going through all of it. The kitchen had been fairly easy; he had chucked almost everything but a small number of dishes and a few days’ worth of food. The bedroom had been harder. He began to find himself torn between saving something, and throwing it away. Also, he didn’t have enough boxes, and so was forced to use paper grocery bags. He began lining them up in the front hallway by the door, but knew as he did so that there was too much, and that he’d have to go through it again and throw away more once Eli was back. He was sure that once she understood what was going on, Eli would agree that it was time to move. It was reported on the TV, which was playing in the background as he worked, that the police thought that the groundskeeper’s death could be related to other unsolved murders in and around Karlstad. Oskar didn’t watch, but heard some of the names as he moved in and out of the bedroom: Emma Pahlberg, unemployed and homeless; Viktor Hakala, age 53, a bricklayer; Emil Andersson, a 79-year-old widower; David Jansson, a 34-year-old parolee who’d been convicted of larceny. As he was rooting through a box in his closet, Oskar came across his knife in its leather scabbard. He paused, unsnapped the strap, and pulled it out. Somehow holding it in his hand made him feel safer. He hefted it, appreciating its weight, and thought back to the last time he’d drawn it: when the big drunk from the neighborhood had threatened Eli. He remembered how Eli had leapt up out of her tub, seized the man around his neck, and within the space of a few seconds, had him on the floor with his throat torn open. Then he thought about what he had seen last night, and shuddered. He slipped the knife back into its scabbard, and then put the whole thing into his pocket. Just in case. * * * The door opened and a bright light shown in Eli’s eyes. She looked up, startled with a face wet with tears, at the figure who was suddenly standing in the doorway. She could not make out any features behind the flashlight, just the shape of a man. For a microsecond her face registered surprise; then the hunger rushed in. Her mouth opened wide and she launched herself at him. Kill. The gun fired and the bullet plowed into Eli’s chest. It struck a rib and deflected up through her right lung, destroying the upper lobe and shattering the medial aspect of her scapula before exiting her upper back, leaving a walnut-sized exit wound. The kinetic energy of the round knocked her off balance, and instead of hitting the police officer, she struck the doorjamb, bounced sideways, and continued through the door. The officer was so surprised by Eli’s attack that he stumbled backwards on the little wood steps that led up to the door. Consequently, his second shot went high and punched through the back wall of the shed. Eli fell through the doorway and struck him, and together they landed in a heap on the ground. Smoke and the smell of cordite filled the air. The officer could not understand what was happening. He had been patrolling through the parking lot, checking the warehouse doors, when he’d heard what turned out to be a crying, half-naked child who had suddenly seemed possessed and attacked him with a mouth full of teeth. Now, just as quickly, he had fallen onto his back on the pavement, and the same child was squirming on top of him, making a feral growling sound. It was too close to use his gun, and all he could think of was to get it off of him. He had dropped his flashlight, and so he cuffed Eli on the side of the head with his pistol; then he crabbed backwards and struggled to regain his feet. Eli felt intense pain throughout the right side of her chest. It coursed down her right arm, making it hard to use. She scrambled to right herself on top of the man and get at his neck; then felt the heavy pistol connect squarely with her temple. Because she didn’t weigh much, the blow was enough to knock her sprawling onto the pavement to the man’s left. The police officer got his feet under him. He had managed to get to a crouch when Eli righted herself and came at him again. He brought his pistol up and fired, still feeling incredulous that he was discharging his firearm at a child, and a girl at that. Eli felt another bolt of explosive pain, this time in her left leg as the bullet ripped through the muscles on the outer aspect of her thigh, narrowly missing her femur. It was not enough to stop her attack, but instead of grabbing the man around his neck as she had intended, she lost her balance and fell short, ending up with her head in between his legs. The officer again lost his balance and toppled backwards. Without thinking, she turned her head and bit as hard as she could into the man’s inner thigh. Her teeth tore through his pants and sank deeply into his flesh. Her mouth closed, removing a large chunk of muscle and tearing open the femoral artery and vein. The man howled in pain. His blood sprayed like a fire hose from the open artery directly into Eli’s face. She spit out the hunk of tissue, opened her mouth again, and latched onto the open wound, sucking the blood down her throat for all she was worth. At the same time, she shot her left arm up, groping blindly, and found the man’s right arm. She slid her closed hand rapidly down his jacket until it stopped against his hand, which was holding the pistol in its grip. She squeezed brutally, crushing the bones at the ends of his forearm and in his wrist. He screamed again and the pistol clattered to the pavement. The officer flopped on his back, trying to break free. He searched for his flashlight with his free hand, but it was out of reach, so he began repeatedly striking Eli in the head with his left fist. Eli brought her weakened right arm up and tried to gain control of his left while she continued to drain him of blood. She couldn’t get ahold of his arm, but was able to pin his arm to the pavement with hers. The man’s arms were now immobilized, and with both femoral vessels of his right leg open, he rapidly lost consciousness. His legs kicked futilely for a few more seconds as he arched his pelvis off the ground, trying to buck her off, but it was useless. Eli sucked and sucked, intoxicated by the hot fluid that shot like a bolt down her throat. As the man’s strength ebbed she opened her eyes to see, but because of the blood in her eyes, everything was red and blurry. As the flow tapered off, she nosed her way further into the wound and used her tongue to lap up the last, feeble spurts. Then the officer’s body completely relaxed, and there was no more. She sat up, wiped the blood off her face with her good hand, and licked her fingers. Then, no longer so distracted by the hot, coppery flow, she realized she was wheezing and looked down to see a dark splotch of her own blood smeared across her chest, now descending in a thick ribbon to soak the beltline of her pants. She knew from a large cold patch on her back that the same thing was happening there. Surprised by this damage to her usual bodily integrity, she paused to examine the wound with curiosity, poking her right index finger into the hole. Then after a moment, she tottered to her feet, squeezing the leg wound to stop the flow of blood that was rapidly staining her pants a dark crimson past her knee and halfway down her calf. She stepped over the fallen body with a limp until she was straddling the head, then crouched down and twisted it sharply until the back of the head was facing up. As she moved away from the police car, she heard the dispatcher on the radio, calling for a report from the officer. As the silence drew out and she continued limping away, the dispatcher called again. Eli moved faster, willing her body to heal itself, but it did not seem to be working like usual; she was still too weak. When she reached the edge of the parking lot and entered the darkness of the trees, she heard the dispatcher state that they would be sending another car. * * * Oskar sat down on the couch for a moment to take a break. It was now approaching midnight, and he had been working continuously for several hours and was tired. The room was basically empty. Several bags of luggage, some boxes and lots of grocery bags were stacked up between the couch and the front door. He only needed to make one more trip to the trash chute before calling it a night. He had realized as he worked that he hadn’t quite recovered from his cold the way he’d hoped, and now he felt weak and ready to rest. Looking around at the empty apartment made him pause and reflect. Almost two years that we’ve been in Karlstad. Since that night we rode the train in from Blackeberg, with Eli in that big crate sitting right there next to the door. The night that she pulled me up from the pool and saved my life. He realized now that what had happened at the pool had been like a marriage. Unspoken vows, exchanged in a glance that would last a lifetime. Forever committed to each other. He thought back to their first kiss. How frightened he’d been at what she’d just done, and how sad she’d looked, even though she was terrifying with all that blood on her face. Sad, he knew, because she’d just had to kill someone in front of him, and would have to leave. She didn’t want to kill; didn’t want to be what she was. She just wanted to be a kid again; to live and love like a child. With him. For him. I can’t be afraid of her anymore. As long as I’m afraid of her, then . . . what? Can I say I really love her? Something had changed in that last night they had spent together, when he had taken her onto himself without reservation, without fear. When his heart had felt so big in his chest that he was sure that it would explode with love for her. When he had crushed her fiercely to himself; held her so tightly against him with his hands and arms straining, straining to somehow be one with her, and she had done the same with him. And he knew what that kind of closeness meant to her. Oh yes, he had learned the bitter truth about what she experienced because of what she was: that to be so close to another person, even one she loved as much as him, was fraught with danger; that she could not help but smell his blood; could not avoid being tempted to kill and consume. But that night he had felt impervious to her other nature, as if, through sheer force of love, feeling, or whatever it was that bound two people together, that part of her had shrunken and slunk away into some dark recess inside of her, blinded and dumbstruck by the love between them, freeing Eli to be—just Eli. And now, here I am again—the same old little, terrified Oskar. Running away, running away; scared as usual. Am I ever going to change? I vowed never to leave her—her, Eli, no matter what. No matter what she is; no matter how bad it gets. What did that vow really mean? It meant standing up for Eli, even when that beautiful person was locked up inside the worst kind of creature imaginable. Was there, in truth, any time that she needed his love less? * * * It was midnight. He got to his feet and wearily picked up the last of the trash. He opened the door and padded down the hall in his socks, the garbage bag clunking against his leg. He looked down, yawned hugely, and rounded the corner toward the chute. Glanced up and— “Hello, Oskar.” She limped toward him, leaning with one hand on the handrail. A demonic ruination of pale flesh and clotted blood under the washed out glow of the fluorescents. Oskar felt every muscle in his body go limp. The trash bag slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He felt something loosen in his belly, and then a warm stain spread down the front of his pants leg. As he backed up she smiled with a mouth full of teeth. Its teeth. Her dark eyes gleamed; her breath wheezed. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt very long.” He slipped around the corner, turned, and ran toward the door. And as he ran he felt the bulk of the knife against his thigh, reached for it, pulled it free. He heard the light patter of her bare feet whisper across the carpet behind him with uncanny speed. The door, the door, gotta get to the DOOR— She struck him full in the back, just as he was crossing the threshold, his left arm extended to grab the handle and slam it shut. He grunted as the breath was knocked out of him, and fell onto the floor of the main hallway of their apartment, breaking his fall with his left hand. Then he felt her hands on him, on the sides of his back, scrambling upwards to gain purchase on his shoulders and pin him there. He twisted violently, rolling toward his right, brought his right arm rapidly up and— —the knife blade sank into her chest up to its hilt. Eli froze, her eyes and mouth suddenly wide open. She looked down in amazement at Oskar’s fist clenched around the knife handle, the guard flush against her bare chest. Then her eyes rolled up, her mouth opened, and with an aaahhhh she arched backward and rolled off Oskar, onto her back. Oskar stared at her, horrified. He pulled the knife free and flung it away. Both of their hands flew to the wound and were bathed in the dark, red blood that welled forth. Eli jerked and turned her head to look at him. More blood was issuing from her mouth and running down her cheeks. “Oskar . . . oh dear God, Oskar . . . please, please—” She raised one of her hands to touch his face, brush the tears that were now streaming down his cheeks. His heart broke. He bent over and kissed the vampire that was Eli. Then he cupped one hand behind her head and gently he raised her mouth to his throat. “I give it to ya, Eli,” he said in a small, trembling voice. “You can have it.” |
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