Finite: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 4)

by Felisha Antonette

  Under his façade, the monster is just as fascinated. They stare in awe with an edge of hesitation. I concentrate, staring at the monster, searching for something within him that reveals anything. The snake of fire slithers on its hind over to him. It circles him in a way a snake would wrap around its prey, but the fire snake doesn’t touch him. Instead, it studies the monster as if it were looking for a precise way to attack.

  On my next blink, I can see through the eyes of my snake, through blazing heat waves. There’s something else inside of the man, beyond the Qualm, maybe the reflection of the person who owns this body.

  No! It’s not a reflection. A man who looks like the face of the body. He screams, “Help me!”

  I jump from the aggression of his holler. Grabbing Olar’s arm, I mutter, “I get it. That girl at the restaurant, a Faylaman possessed her.” I knit my brows as I think aloud, “But she asked for me to help her, as though the real her was still alive somewhere.” It hits me all at once. “They aren’t killing them, they’re taking over them. The people are still alive inside of them!”

  In the next instant, the snake’s charging down the man’s throat. The man’s body illuminates a beautiful bluish hue, with the tail of the snake, a fiery orange, whipping back and forth just outside of his mouth like the flame of a candle battling a breeze.

  “Do not blow him up!” I say with a point. “Get out of there! Bad boy!” I scold. Olar isn’t the least fazed by the color of the man. It could be the Qualm that makes him this color, separating the possessed from those who are normal.

  Olar asks, “Remember when we rescued Little Nathan from that jail with those oversized gorilla men? They were possessed too, right? The ladies behind the counter, Taylor freed them.”

  “You’re right.” The man glows brighter. “Hey, you! You better not blow him up. Get out of him right now! And not through the other end, get out the way you entered!” I demand my pet.

  Like lava erupting from his mouth, the fire snake erupts from the man’s body and lands on the floor. It slithers one way then another before curling up on itself and looking at me bashfully.

  The man falls to the floor, panting, “That was the most spectacular thing I’ve ever experienced.”

  Did he just have a snakegasm?

  That’s not a thing…

  Pointing to the quivering man, Olar snorts. Prove it. Hey, didn’t you and Nathan get possessed by one of these Qualms once? That giant snake worm saved you then.

  That was completely different from this. I’m thinking this ball falls in Taylor’s court.

  Olar scoffs.

  The man climbs to his knees and crawls over to the snake, begging it for another ‘treatment.’

  “You need to get out of here,” Olar tells him.

  “Here is the way I can get to my home,” he says. “My brother will be home with more bodies, he has orders to fill and a cage full of them. They will repay him when he arrives.”

  “When who arrives?” Olar asks. “Be clearer.”

  There’s a click from behind me, but when I whip around, there’s nothing there. I blink rapidly, trying to get my eyes to show me anything. There’s breathing, and I feel someone here. But I see nothing. I slowly extend my hand out before me, where I feel someone standing. There’s nothing—no one—there.

  “Let’s go, Olar,” I say, grabbing his attention from punching the man. “Instinct will force him to leave.” I snap for my snake to follow as I head out of the room.

  As I’m exiting the room, a soft breeze brushes my curls against my cheeks. Throwing a glance to my right, I search for an open window but find a wall instead; about three feet away. “Olar, you feel that?”

  “Wind? Yeah. But where’s it coming from?” We scan the hall of closed doors and windowless walls. “That’s so weird.”

  Stepping further down the hall, I search for the cause of the breeze but find nothing. It feels odd over here, like a million auras standing in this one spot. I hear something, like white noise. I still and hold my breath, hearing whisper—a lot of hushed voices mummering. They’re too quiet to make out, but someone is saying something. “Maybe it’s just my imagination. Let’s get out of here.” I pass it, but I take a while to tear my gaze away from the empty hall.

  We make it out of the house, back through the front door. On the porch, Olar asks, “You have to do this one thing for me.”

  He doesn’t have to say it. I give permission to my anxious snake of fire to do its “dragon” thing. Within five minutes, as Olar and I rest against the hood of the car, the house goes up in flames. Every square inch is a blaze; the white home burning black. When Olar’s satisfied, we head home.

  She Used to be Mine

  “What’d you say you and Olar came across yesterday?”

  I show Jason my picture of a sleeping puppy I’ve finished coloring. He gives me the okay to add it to our ‘keep’ pile of finished pictures we’re creating for our color collage. “Yeah, this man, he was like a host for a Qualm, but inside the man was the other man, I’m assuming the real spirit”—I take a whack at the word but I’m not sure if I should call it that—“was still intact.”

  Taylor trades a pink crayon for a blue. “Where before, they were just possessing corpses. Now the people are alive and they’re just taking over? That’s scary.”

  “You’re telling me.” I hesitate to say my next words and release them with caution. “I thought about you, maybe, helping out with that. Like, before. Maybe, help release the possessed.”

  She sighs, “I can’t, Tracey. You know I can’t leave the house.”

  “Yeah,” I breathe, “I know.” I really do get it.

  Some nights are harder than others, and I’ve still not been able to sleep through the night in my own bed. It smells like Nathan and sometimes when I let my imagination get away with me; I feel him there, holding me, pushing his fingers through my hair, cuffing my cheek. He lies beside me and wraps his heavy arm around my middle and his chuckle for whatever humorous comment I made, trickles in my ears. It hurts like hell. So, I won’t fight Taylor over her weaknesses. In her own time, she’ll climb out of her shell. At least, today, we’re sitting up on the bed, coloring in the lines, chilling with Justin’s mini-me. He’s a bundle of smiles and laughter, a picture of joy being able to spend this better day with his mother.

  We finish our collage and tape each picture and drawing together before hanging it on the wall in their room. The bigger picture is an image of a dog’s face. Jason loves dogs. I’m thinking of getting him a little one if Taylor okays it.

  “Come on, Jason. Let’s get you a bath to wash off all this marker and crayon. And then it’s to bed for you, big guy.” Jason jumps on the bed and out of my reach.

  “Tracey,” he articulates. “I am not going to take a bath.”

  “Oh,” I gasp. “Then what are you going to do?”

  He shrugs as he’s jumping up and down, giving me a headache.

  “Would you like for me to give you a bath, Jason?” Taylor asks, silencing his ‘no bath’ song and ending his jumping.

  He stands in the middle of the bed, crayons crowded around his feet, staring at his mother with eyes that are equally eager and shocked. “Mommy,” he mutters with an edge of hope, “you want to give me a bath?” she nods and Jason lunges for his mother, throwing his arms around her neck. “You’re the best, Mommy.”

  Taylor seals him in her shaking arms. She picks him up and they leave the room to the bathroom. I wipe the back of my hand across the bottom of my chin, catching the tear tickling me. That’s all Jason ever wants. The little times it happens is better than it never happening at all, and Jason will eat up every moment, because, unfortunately, he knows it’s not lasting.

  I lie on the opposite side of the bed of Taylor with Jason sleeping between us. She has the hottest room in the house, and I happen to like the discomfort. It doesn’t allow me to rest easily and keeps me grounded when my dreams catch up with me.

  “One day soo
n, Tracey, I promise I’ll do better.” Taylor’s breaths have been unsteady for the past hour. “Just. Every time I see the sun or braid Jason’s hair, or even see a smile, even when I look at you. . . Justin is all I remember. Nathan being gone smacks me in the face.” She takes a pause. “It’s the guilt that shouts in my ears. When I said I was sorry about Roehl, then, I didn’t mean it. What I did to my brother was put him on the line with hopes it would take the target off Justin and me, even after my father was gone. Roehl was still going to come after me, but as long as you existed, he’d remain distracted. Tracey, I’m sorry.”

  I turn on to my back from my side. A harsh breath rushes past my lips. “The past is in the past, Taylor. Karma has had her run at you. I don’t need or want to hit you too. And you don’t need to keep beating yourself up about this. We’ve forgiven you. It’s time you forgive yourself. Once you forgive you, you’ll feel a lot better.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Of course, Taylor. You have a handsome baby boy who needs you. Be there for him. Yes, it’s hard, but there’s only one way for it to get easier. And, Jason’s worth it.”

  Taylor goes silent. But she heard me.

  I drift off, holding my breath for thirty seconds before releasing it. Time’s been passing slowly, and where I’ve felt like it was circling in a direction to my benefit, the more information I find out, the more I believe it’s for someone else’s.

  “Tracey? Come down.” Little Nathan calls from downstairs. It’s impossible to tell the time of day in Taylor’s room with her covered windows.

  Climbing out of the bed, sure not to disturb Jason and Taylor, I pull the covers back over the both of them and then creep across the floor and out of the room. The light of day breaks through the room when I open the door, and I hurry to close it.

  I go to the kitchen, finding Little Nathan standing over the stove. “Yeah?” I ask. He looks over his shoulder, and I stumble backward, my hand clutched at my chest, breaths stuck between an inhale and the opposite. “N-Nathan . . . ?”

  “I made you lunch.” He lifts the skillet into view. “You hungry, beautiful?” Steady steps draw me closer. My eyes flood with tears and they stream down my cheeks. I reach my shaking hand to his shoulder. The spatula falls atop the stove. He turns around and slips his arms around my waist. I’m pulled into the tightest hug. “You okay?” he asks.

  “She said you were alive, and I didn’t believe her. But, I hoped you’d come back.”

  A kiss molds against my neck before his beard scrapes over it. “I’ll never leave you, promise.”

  I draw back, and he turns back to the stove. He looks down at me from the corner of his eye. His smooth face comforts a small smirk. That flattering smirk that shows it makes him happy when he looks at me. “I love you,” I mention, wrapping an arm around him.

  “I know.” He steps away from me, moving the skillet with the stir-fry from the stove.

  I look around the empty kitchen. “Has anyone else seen you?”

  “Of course,” he says. “I am in the middle of the kitchen cooking.” He laughs, knitting his brows at my silly question.

  “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

  “Un-huh.” Nathan prepares our plates, and we sit around the island, eye-gazing and smiling at each other. Over the food, we make small talk of oceans and mountains, flowers I’m planting, and school as the lyrics of a soft tune whisks us away.

  If love can lose its feelings, and dreams are without meaning,

  What mind can lose its sense but find its evanescence.

  A missile, death came as a destroyer.

  A scythe, life slashed from a reaper.

  And life found me still as stone,

  Cold as ice,

  A heart unborn.

  And though my life is gone.

  I breathe. . .

  Our surroundings begin to spin at an unprecedented speed. Nathan turns one direction, the kitchen whirls another, and the world rotates, all as I stand stationary, trying to keep up with speeds of everything shifting in different directions. Dropping to my knees, I’m dizzy, fighting the nausea burning my throat. I reach, trying to catch hold of something. But there’s nothing but air.

  As quickly as it starts, my world halts, setting me free of the claim to my oxygen. There’s white noise. I’d fear it, but I’m more disturbed by how comforting it is.

  I look to my left and right, as the white noise fades into a deadly silence and my surroundings alter to a new world. A gentle breeze sends strands of my hair tickling my cheeks. Chrysanthemums fill my nose, and I release the breath with relief. “I recognize this place,” I say aloud.

  The sound of day—birds chirping and window blowing—breaks through the silence. Beautiful flowers growing from healthy trees, a graveled trail, the soft scent of the lake water, and the water washing up on the sand. It’s all so familiar. “The trail behind Nathan’s old house.” I used to love it out here.

  A strange happiness lifts the corners of my mouth; it raises my cheeks so high I see them in my periphery. “How’d I get here?” I walk down the trail, brushing my hand over each tree I pass.

  “Lunch was good?” Comes from behind me as Nathan slips his fingers through the empty spaces of my free hand.

  Meeting chocolate eyes, I nod. “It was perfect.”

  “I miss you so much, Sparks.” It shows in his eyes, the way they tug at their sides and force a pinch between his brows. “You know what I mean?”

  “Definitely,” I say for certain, but it’s a plea. “I know.” I close the obnoxious distance between us and take him in my arms. “If only you were here all the time.”

  “I haven’t gone anywhere, Sparky, you have.”

  Taken aback, I mutter, “I don’t understand.”

  “All this time we’d worked on belonging in this world, belonging to the family and our friends. We tried to belong to each other instead of just living.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t follow.”

  Nathan hugs me tighter and repeats, “I miss you.” There’s a long pause and then he says, “I’ve been a fire in the past, and I’m finally ready to defuse. I want to let go, but only if you will too.”

  “Nate, from the first day I said yes, I’ve let go and have been falling ever since.”

  “Falling?”

  “Soaring. I’ve been soaring ever since. For the first time, though, I’ve hit the ground. I hit the ground hard. I’ve broken every bone in my body, erupted every blood vessel I possess. I know, now, there’s nothing but trouble—destruction—if I were to say yes again.” I take in his eager eyes, the gentle twitch to his bottom lip, and then I say, “Yes.”

  A smile eliminates his distress, and he takes a single step back, taking my hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses the knuckle of my curved thumb and something moves between our grips. Dropping to his knees, he keeps my eye contact. “Then here’s my last request, Tracey Warren.” My heart thumps terribly hard, causing my chest to shake and my skin to vibrate. “Will you?” He releases our hold, and finally, I’m able to see what I’m holding.

  I stumble away from Nathan, falling to my butt. “W-what?”

  “Just once, Tracey.” Nathan crawls over to me and grabs me before I can scramble away. He clutches my hand tighter around the handle. “For you, Sparks. Not for me. Will you do it for you?” Pulling me to sit up, he asks, “Come die with me.”

  I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down so hard a metallic taste floods my tongue. I try to wake myself from this nightmare. At least, I think it’s a nightmare. Maybe it’s a reality, a desire even. I drop my gaze to the butt of the handle clutched so tightly in my hand it hurts. To the pearl glazed point of the black, fixed-blade knife, I carry my gaze and let the thought sink in.

  “So, you will?” Nathan asks, inches from me, close enough to kiss. We won’t though.

  There’s nothing to consider. There’s only one option. “If I kept myself from loving you, I’d be just as empty to
morrow as I am today. If you can promise not to go away, I’ll give you my heart, my soul, and my body.”

  “I’m permanent,” he swears, nodding once.

  “Then so am I.” I thrust the blade in my stomach, then release my grip.

  I gulp at the air, letting the pain sooth me. My breaths are quick, but my heartbeat slows when I fall against Nathan’s chest. He strokes my hair from my face and lays a kiss on my forehead, whispering, “I’ll see you soon.”

  Lay Me Down

  Flashing red and white lights blind me. Screams and screeches blare through my ears. I try to throw my hand over them, but I can’t move. Jerking my arms, I’m strapped down.

  “What is this?” I shout, trying to snap up, but can’t. “Let me free!”

  “You’re not held down, Tracey.” Sounds like Little Nathan.

  Calming, I breathe. “Why can’t I open my eyes?”

  “Your eyes are open,” he snaps. In my ear, he whispers, “You’ve got a gash in your side and are in an ambulance. Cool it.”

  A radio crackles with urgency and codes I don’t recognize. I close my eyes, concerned that I can’t see because the film has blackened beyond vision capability. As I relax my muscles, a stabbing pain attacks my stomach. I cringe and bite back my wail.

  “Please,” I beg, “make the pain go away.”

  “The morphine should kick in, in a couple of seconds, Tracey,” a kind, though unfamiliar voice assures. “Everything will be okay.”

  A chill starts in fingers then works its way through my shoulders. I go numb, and though I can’t see, I need to close my eyes. Suddenly aware of my breathing, I count each one before forgetting I was doing so.

  It’s been three long days.

  I slurp green jello and down loads of electrolytes per doctor’s orders. Eighteen stitches seal a gash the length of my hand, and I’ve been told that I’m lucky nothing too important was punctured, other than my pride. They put me on suicide watch for another two days, but hopefully I’ll be out of here by Thursday. It’s only Monday.