Daimon by DANIELLE BOLGER (e reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: DANIELLE BOLGER
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“This is not up for discussion, Jane.” He gave another tug, stronger, but still only possessing a human's strength; a far cry from the force needed to have me moving.
“I wish,” I stated sadly, “that you were not forcing me to do this. It is breaking my heart.” Black tears began to flood down my cheeks.
Then, surprisingly, I felt his forehead collapse on my shoulder. “Yours may be broken, but you've devoured mine.” He nestled across, to the top of my bosom.
“I wish you could understand, but I don't think you will.” With a sharp, loud ting, I severed a link to the cuffs restraining me.
Ryan rose from my breast with confusion. I brought my hands to his face, and caressed it softly as if that would ease his woes. He, however, could not refrain from shifting his eyes between my two hands, and the broken metal that once connected them.
Stroking his cheeks, I explained, “I've changed.”
He recoiled, and pulled his gun straight up to me.
“Ryan...” I attempted to soothe his anguished expression but failed. After a long conflicted moment, Ryan's shaky hands enabled the force to pull the trigger.
I stumbled back a step and touched the blood oozing from my right shoulder. “I see.” I placed a thumb and index finger inside the hole. After retrieving the bullet, I rolled the metal along my palm, leaving behind a stark red streak, before letting it falling from my fingertips. Before the bullet even landed on the carpet, my wound had completely healed.
Ryan took one step back, then another, gaping with horrified alarm. He raised his gun toward at me yet, again.
I looked down at the red and gray bullet, and at the carpet that was besmirched with crimson droplets. “I knew you wouldn't understand.”
“What...” His voice trembled. “What are you?”
I looked back up at him and smiled. “I’ve changed. I'm not quite human anymore. I've become another creature; one that...hurts people. If I don't, I will lose my sanity and start attacking without restraint.”
“How do you hurt people?” he pressed.
“I feed on...”
“The missing hearts,” he finished.
I nodded. “It's still me, Ryan; the Jane that you know, that you've grown up with. She's still here. Your best friend's dorky little sister who has always loved you, and still does. Ryan, I still love you!”
He fired another bullet, this time, it was not diverted from a less lethal area; this time he shot right into my heart. “Ouch,” I murmured.
My body spat the metal out and healed within moments.
“You pretend to be Jane, but you're not, you're a monster!” The gun trembled in his hands before letting loose the rest of the clip. Once the clip was expended, Ryan continued to dry-fire, clicking away in his panic.
After my body healed, I responded, “Yeah, a monster.”
I drove a hand into his chest and caught hold of the very heart I desired.
Ryan's eyes widened, and as I pulled that organ from his body they screamed betrayal. I held him in my arm as my other hand placed his heart in my mouth. As I devoured it, his eyes became still; no more turbulent waves, no more peaceful drifts. Suddenly the earth became barren, and the peacefulness of water ceased to exist. I did it; I took away his vitality, his sea, and his heart. I murdered the man I loved.
****
Hours passed as I lay by my love's corpse, still in the lounge room, with the morning daylight shining upon us.
I'm so sorry. I love you; I want to be with you forever, but I have to protect myself. You have to understand that.
I brushed my fingers against his ashen face and stared up into the still waters of his eyes. I leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips, before their coolness had me retreating back onto his chest, yet again, to expel my tears.
They had changed color again, my tears. They were now cold, devoid of life— a deep purple, like that of veins.
I coated Ryan in the substance, painting him violet, and clutched at his lifeless body as if he were not really gone.
“Why?” I whispered. “Why did you make me do it? Why, Ryan? I love you; I've always loved you. You were the reason I accepted this eternal curse. I just wanted to be with you, feel your warm arms around me. I never admitted it, but everything was all in wait for you to find me desirable. I was always waiting, hoping that someday you would love me as much as I love you.”
This time, I had no one cleaning up after me. The daimons were dead. I was hopeless. Very soon, my world would catch up with me and hunt me down.
Reluctantly, I broke contact with my eternal crush and walked into my bedroom shower. The water was fresh, clean, and it did not reek of roses. I lingered there for some time. Finally, I retreated, clothed myself in simple jeans and a shirt, and stared at the mesmerizing woman in the cupboard mirror. Beautiful vibrant brown hair, skin white, yet luscious, free from any signs of aging or hormonal imbalances; full pink lips and eyes that sparkled a vibrant amethyst. Like blood without oxygen, I knew them to be starved for life.
I heard a rustle from the kitchen. I traveled there at once and found a man ripping apart cupboard doors, cluttering stale food to the floor and smashing plates and glasses. He paused before turning his head round to me.
Ryan exposed his full body. His chest was devoid of a heart, yet he continued to persist in some semblance of life. He looked at me hungrily and lunged forward, a hand reaching out toward the heart he tore in two.
I sidestepped him, slipped behind him and held onto him snugly, smiling. “I guess we better find you something to eat then, killer.”
I released the man to surf, as blood continued to spill out of his open chest wound. It poured freely, unable to coagulate due to the high salinity of the water. It subtly colored the dark waves red. I thought about his earlier remark; that if the shark nets didn't catch the ocean's predators, then he would. It seemed it would be the other way around. The sharks would taste his presence in the water and find a way to the shore so they could catch their next meal. I happened to know that there were several tears in the nets of this beach; sharks had no trouble gaining entrance to the shoreline, and as long as there was a little motivation, they came slicing through with haste.
I pushed him forcefully so that he would float further out to sea, and as he sailed, the gold chain around his neck reflected the moonlight brilliantly. “Good bye, Jase. I'm afraid you won't be picking up girls ever again.”
My mind returned to Sandra, who had lain asleep in the hospital for days, as she recovered from the powerful tranquilizer. The medical staff was not surprised to find the compound in her system to be ketamine hydrochloride, or Special K, as it was often used as a date-rape drug, though normally at much smaller doses. The animal tranquilizer typically dissociated its victims, making them more pliable for sexual encounters, but with the concentration Sandra experienced, it was enough to induce coma and possibly death. When she finally awoke, she had no idea what had happened to her or even where the attack occurred. All that she recalled was a man grabbing her and a lot of gold. That was when it became clear: the daimons had Jase, the gangster, snatch my friend. I remembered our brief encounter weeks earlier and was glad that the Fox had not recalled me. It made this process of retribution so much simpler.
From afar, I could see the water splash violently, and a fin cut through its surface.
Sandra had been distant to me in the following few weeks as if understanding that I was the reason for the danger her life had been put in. She did not say it; maybe because I was the one who supposedly saved her, after discovering her lying unconscious on her apartment floor. I guessed it was a conflict that she struggled to resolve within herself. I wondered, though, if with this justice for her abduction, whether she would ever forgive me—perhaps sensing what transpired on a subconscious level.
As I floated through the water, I thought back to my list of next targets: a rapist, a wife beater, and an HIV positive woman that slept with as many men as she could, hoping to infect with the virus. It was all becoming rather methodical—simple—but no less gratifying. There were no Foxes on my list because there were no more Foxes in existence. After the death of their bosses, the gang disbanded and broke off into smaller disparate sectors. There was still crime on the Blue Coast, but it became attenuated, more manageable and less impervious to police intervention. I hoped my father would be pleased with that. It was not a win, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.
I kept a keen eye on the ex-Foxes and their relocations. Some had assimilated into other gangs, but a surprisingly large number fled the crime scene altogether. When I recalled the retired Fox assassin, the idea did not seem so unexpected after all. Gregory Fletcher just wanted out of the gang, to live a peaceful life with his daughter, but instead, they were both murdered as a result. No wonder so many of the gangsters fled, the only severance package they would have received entailed severed blood vessels.
Alex was amongst the ex-Foxes who escaped the gangster world. I was astounded by her miraculous recovery. I had controlled the bleeding with a makeshift bandage, constructed from the fabric of her dress, but I was sure that the internal hemorrhaging would cause too much pressure around her skull. She was discovered at a bus stop right outside the hospital and wheeled in just after I carried my friend to the emergency ward. Alex's attendees held grave expressions but gave her the same exceptional care as Sandra. It took Alex some time longer to recover, but when she left the hospital two weeks ago, she instantly reverted back to the name of Kiyomi Himura and claimed possession of the Sands casino. Being that it was left for her in her father’s will and its original owners had disappeared, the transition took mere days. I often wondered if it was for honor that she fought so hard to survive. I could imagine that Makoto would not have been pleased to see his legacy in the hands of his murderers.
I still worked at the Coastal Horizon. Frank never had a proper chance to fire me, and since I wrote my articles dutifully, he no longer had any reason to complain about my performance. He could hardly fire me for all that happened before, not when one of our own photographers was killed. So, I continued the facade, played sheep and kept my wolf claws retracted during office hours.
I waded back through the water, stepped out of the surf and was about to pick my clothes up from the sand when another hand reached down and retrieved these. I took the fabric from the outstretched hand and stared up into deep black eyes.
Ryan looked back into mine, never diverting to my exposed breasts, or wanting body. I stood completely naked in front of the daimon, and he stared back without even a flash of desire.
I gazed at him: his strong arms, slightly tanned skin, taut abs that hid beneath his collared T-shirt, rough stubble on his chin, and then back to his eyes where, just for a second, I saw a ripple, like a wave of the ocean. I could not restrain myself any more. I dropped my clothes and threw myself on him, smothering his warm lips with my own, but he didn't kiss me back. He didn't move. He simply waited for me to get off him.
Fighting back violet tears I released him. Looking back into his eyes, I realized how foolish I was; the ocean I saw was a reflection of the sea behind me. That water no longer coursed through him. He no longer possessed those turbulent, passionate waves. He was simply
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