The Shoma

by Lola St. Vil

“You haven’t been able to stop the bleeding?”

  “I try, but it just keeps flowing.”

  “That’s because he’s still being attacked.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “There must have been a Sive attached to the weapon; a Sive is a coating Demons add to their weapons to make them twice as lethal. Once it makes contact with Angel flesh, it comes alive. It’s a chrome-like mosquito with three heads. One head eats through flesh; the other head eats through bone until finally the center head, gets to the soul.”

  “How do I stop it?”

  “It has to work its way through three layers of soul before it gets to the very center of Marcus’s soul. What color is the infected area?”

  “It’s a reddish maroon color and—wait, its turning black.”

  “That’s the last stage, Emmy, it’s headed for the center of his soul.”

  “I have to call the team, but Marcus said no and—”

  “There’s no time to call anyone. If you want to save him, you have to go in after the Sive, now.”

  “How?”

  “I told you, go in.”

  “Wait, you mean inside his flesh?”

  “Yes, go now.”

  “Can’t I use some kind of ‘Sive catching’ instrument?”

  “Once the Sive is alive, it will only be attracted to flesh. If you use anything other than that, it will run from you and eat through Marcus’s soul even faster.”

  “Okay.”

  “Wait—you have to wash your hands first.” He orders.

  “Tony you need to come and do this, I could mess it up.”

  “I don’t have any Ports nearby and it would take too long to find one and program it. Just wash your hands, hurry!”

  I run and quickly wash and dry my hands. I then head back over to Marcus.

  “Okay, what now?” I ask as I put Tony on speakerphone.

  “You have to dig inside the wound and follow the same path that the Sive took. If you divert from the path, you will cause more damage to Marcus’s body. So stay on the path.”

  “Okay, stay on the same path, got it,” I repeat.

  “When you reach the Sive, it’ll feel like cold steel on your fingertips. If you pull it out too quickly, it will cause a shock to his system and that will kill him.” Tony warns.

  “Okay, pull out slowly, got it.”

  “One more thing; the reason the Sive can get all the way into Marcus body is because it fools the body into thinking it belongs there, but to Marcus system, you’re foreign. So just like humans have an immune system that tries to fight against sickness, Angels have the same thing.”

  “Wait, what does that mean?”

  “It means his body will reject you.”

  “You’re saying my touch is going to hurt him?”

  “I’m saying every second that your hand is inside Marcus’s body, it will cause him unimaginable pain. The kind that leads to death in a matter of minutes.”

  “So if I go too quickly, I will kill him. If I go too slowly, I kill him?”

  “Yes.”

  WTF????

  “Okay, I’m ready,” I lie.

  “Clear a path and insert your hand into his wound…”

  The second I dig my hand into his flesh, Marcus’s eyes pop open in sheer terror. I look back at him and silently plead for his forgiveness because his agony has just begun. Tony reminds me to stay focused.

  I go further into the cavity of his wound. It’s hard to feel anything other than the warm liquid surrounding me, but when my fingers hit upon what I guess are his remaining organs, Marcus cries out.

  His scream cuts right through me. He has never made that sound before. It sounds like he’s being set on fire, but worse. I place my free hand on my mouth to keep from adding to the screaming. Marcus shakes so violently, it causes me to go off the path the Sive has dug. My hand makes a sharp right and that causes Marcus so much pain, he bolts up begging me to stop.

  Tears spring to my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I reply.

  I don’t think he even hears me. There’s just too much agony coursing through his body.

  Tony scolds me for not keeping him still.

  “I’m trying, I’m trying!” I shout.

  I turn my attention to Marcus as I continue to dig deeper into his flesh. I’m now wrist deep.

  “Marcus please, stop moving.” I beg.

  He can’t respond. He’s in the throes of being tortured and his face twitches uncontrollably. He twists and turns in an attempt to get away from the pain I’m causing him. It’s inevitable; I’m going to go off track again.

  “I need something to hold him still,” I tell Tony.

  “We don’t have time for that; keep going,” he orders.

  “He’s shaking too much, I’m gonna go off the path, Tony!”

  “No, you’re not. Go faster.”

  I do as I’m told and dig deep into Marcus’s body. I’m nearly elbow deep inside his flesh.

  Bloods pours out from Marcus’s mouth.

  “Oh no! I think I did something wrong.” I shout.

  I explain to Tony what’s happening.

  “It’s not you, it’s the Sive. It’s getting closer to the center, Emmy go faster.”

  I dive deeper into Marcus’ body, so deep that he lifts his pelvis off the floor and cries out.

  Unable to take it anymore, he goes to pull my hand out from his wound.

  Although he not at full strength, he’s still pretty damn strong. He starts to pull my hand away. Without thinking, I yank on the tablecloth above us and everything that was on the table falls to the floor.

  I am hoping to find something to stop Marcus in time. I find a butter knife I had placed on the table earlier. I take the knife and plunge it into Marcus hand. He howls in pain and pulls his hand back.

  “I’m so sorry,” I reply as I dive in deeper in search of the Sive.

  Just when I think I’m never going to make contact with it, I feel a cold slippery surface against my fingers. Tony tells me to go further and latch on to the cold object. I do as he says.

  Meanwhile, Marcus can’t even stop yelling. In addition, he now bangs his head against the floor in an attempt to knock himself out, but the there’s just too much suffering for his body to shut down.

  “I got it!” I shout.

  Tony tells me to count to ten and make sure I don’t pull it out before I get to ten, but Marcus can’t wait until ten. He begs me to make it stop. I try to drown out his voice and focus. I make myself count to ten and finally, I pull the Sive out from Marcus’s wound.

  I’m soaked in Marcus’s blood. In between my fingers the Sive kicks its many insect like legs and tries to break free of my hold. It is exactly as Tony described it; a three headed, vicious “chrome plated” bastard.

  Tony says it won’t attack me and that it only seeks Angel souls. I ask him how to kill it and he says to drown it in bleach. I run into the kitchen and take out the bottle of bleach from under the sink.

  I throw the Sive inside the bottle. I shake it angrily over and over again. I look inside and see the Sive’s corpse floating at the top.

  “It’s dead,” I announce breathlessly as I run back to check on Marcus, who is now eerily silent.

  “How is he?” Tony asks.

  “I don’t know…he’s…he’s still. His eyes are closed,” I reply.

  “Emmy--” Tony calls out to me.

  “--Marcus, Marcus, baby, wake up. Please, wake up,” I beg.

  I take his face in my hand. He feels cold.

  “Tony, help me,” I beg him.

  “Emmy, this is what is supposed to happen,” Tony vows.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, his system is shutting down. Sometimes, it does that in order to fully heal.”

  “And other times?”

  “Other times…”

  “Tony, talk to me.”

  “Other times, the body shuts down permanently.”


  “How will I know…” The thought holds so much dread and fear, I can’t finish it.

  “If Marcus doesn’t wake up by sunrise…it means we were too late.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  CRUEL

  I had gathered a series of emotions to carry with me to replace Marcus’s love; hatred, disappointment, bitterness and regret. Ever since that night at the villa, I carried them around with me. Now, as I watch his bloody broken body lie motionless on my floor, these feelings abandon me. The only thing I’m left with is love.

  I love him.

  I look down at him and remember how angry he gets when I place myself in danger. I think about all the times he’s made me cry. I flash to all our arguments and all the impossible situations we’ve been in and, even in those moments, I loved him.

  He’s selfish, stubborn, stupid and cruel. He makes decisions about us without talking to me. He puts others before me and drives me to the brink of madness; and beyond. He makes it impossible to love him.

  But I do; I love him. I love him.

  I. Love. Him.

  “I know it’s been kind of crazy, but you can’t die now. You’re not allowed. Do you hear me, Marcus; if you die, I swear I will find you in the afterlife and beat the crap out of you,” I vow.

  He doesn’t move or stir at all. He looks so peaceful, but it’s the kind of peace that’s eternal. And that scares the hell out of me.

  I look at him and wonder, not for the time, what he was like when he was human. Back when he didn’t have to save the world. When all he had to do was get good grades and clean his room. Before he had to choose between the girl he loves and humanity.

  I look at the clock, thinking that hours have passed; it’s been three minutes. I’m not gonna be able to hold it together the whole night. I need something to do or I’m seriously going to lose it. I look at him and know exactly what to do.

  I go to the bathroom and look around for something I can use. I take the metal basin filled with towels and replace it with warm water. I mix lavender and eucalyptus oil into the water, grab my loofa sponge and head back to the living room. He doesn’t respond when I enter. His eyes are still closed. I look out the window and beg Omnis for Marcus to show some sign of life soon.

  I set the water down beside him. I peel the blood soaked clothes off him. The sliver sticky puddle is ubiquitous. Every inch of him is covered with it. I take off his sneakers, jeans and tee shirt. I look at him; he’s beautiful, even wounded.

  I dip my loofa sponge into the basin and wring it out. I wash his perfect face and use care and caution as I slowly glide it across the wound; it has finally stopped bleeding. I glide the loofa from his muscular arms down to his torso.

  I can’t lose him. I don’t know if it makes me weak or foolish, but I seriously can’t standbeing without him. I could wrap my mind around not being his girl. I could even swallowhim and Bianca together, if I had to, but I cannot process a world without him at all.

  I use the sponge to wash one of my favorite parts of his body: his wide and powerful hands. I remember what it feels like to have them around me. They are firm, protective, and formidable. Yet his touch is gentle and reassuring.

  I remember the first time he admitted he had feelings for me. It was after Sarah died and I had withdrawn from the world. The team had tried to get me to come out of my dark place, but nothing they did or said helped. In a last ditch effort to get me to come back to the real world, Marcus admitted the truth to me.

  I was sitting in the corner of my room, hugging my knees and spacing out. I was sodepressed I hardly ever spoke anymore.

  “Emerson, we need to talk,” he said.

  I hardly bothered to look up at him. My friend was dead. Her death kept replaying in myhead. The way she hit the ground when the Pawn cut her open…

  “You are essential to the fate of this planet. You can’t just shut down. I know it sucks,what happened, and I’m sorry about Sarah, but you have to try and come out of this hole. We need you. The world needs you.” Marcus said to me.

  He saw that I was unmoved. He sat down on the floor beside me and confessed.

  “Emmy, I miss you.”

  “Why?”

  “Since I met you I have been unable to count in days. I can only count your eyes. Howlong until I see your eyes again? That’s the only clock I have in my head.”

  “You are just using my feelings for you so I can help you save the world. Screw you. Screw the world.” I replied.

  “Emmy, I brought a pack of No See Snaps. I took them one after the other so I could beinvisible and spend the evening with you. I took them like an addict because the more Itook, the longer I could be with you…”

  As I pat him dry, every time our skin touches, my face gets warm. I examine the wound. It’s clean, but no other major change. I cover him up with a blanket and place pillow under his head. I wish I could get him to the bed, but he’s too heavy for me. Also I’m not sure if it’s wise to move him.

  I call Tony again and once again he tells me there is nothing to do, but wait. The clock is being particularly cruel to me. I wonder if I should call the team. Maybe I should, but I don’t; calling the team would mean Marcus is dead or dying, and I can’t face that. I won’t.

  Tony finally got his hands on a Port, but I told him he didn’t need to come. I wanted to be alone with Marcus. There have been so many people in our relationship; ever since we got together, it’s been one drama after the next. I just want this time with him just in case he doesn’t make it.

  Stop thinking that. He’s going to make it; he has to.

  Once again, the only way I can think to beat the clock is to keep myself busy. I take both our clothes and put them in the washer. I mop up the hallway and take a quick shower.

  The flashbacks of Marcus and I keep coming.

  After my mom’s murder, Ameana had given Marcus back his Rah. I wanted us to make love right away. So, Marcus and I had started to make out. I was desperate to forget about the feelings of loss and despair that had been plaguing me, but Marcus pulled away.

  “You don't want to?" I asked.

  "I'm a guy. I always want to, but you've been through a lot of changes in a short time. This would be yet another one."

  "I can handle it. Or maybe I'm just not turning you on..." I replied, hurt by his rejection.

  "I can get Rio in here and he'll tell you, I'm covered in purple, horny waves."

  I laughed and he pulled me close.

  "Emerson Hope Baxter, I have never wanted anyone on Earth or in the light, the way Iwant you right now, but you need more time and that's okay with me. You know why?"

  "Why?"

  "Because I love you and my love is patient.”

  Once out of the shower, I pull my hair back and I slip on the “Piglet” shirt Marcus loves so much. It seems like a lifetime ago since he entered the living room of the Guardians’ home and asked, very rudely, what the deal was with me. He was such an ass.

  I both hated and loved him on sight.

  I look up the info online. The sun is supposed to come up at 5:37 today. That gives Marcus no less than an hour to wake up. I want time to speed by, yet I want it to stand still. I look at the clock for the millionth time and sigh.

  I’m hungry, yet even the thought of eating makes me woozy. I go into the kitchen, grab an apple and take a bite. It tastes just like I thought, awful. I spit it out. I down some OJ instead, but that is a bad idea too.

  “I guess eating and drinking are out, huh?” I ask Marcus from the kitchen. He remains still. I look over at the clock once again. Only ten minutes has gone by. I’m dying here. I go over to where he lies.

  “I’ll make a deal with you; you wake up now and I’ll share with you the dirtiest thoughts I’ve ever had about you. I’m telling you, they’re really naughty,” I say, smiling.

  He wakes up, or at least he would if this were a movie; but, in real life, the Angel I love is eerily still. I look up toward the sky and hope we haven’t completely p
issed off Omnis and that he hears me.

  “Omnis, I know I ask a lot of you sometimes; but if you just let him wake up, if you bring him back to me that will be the last favor I will ever ask of you. I need him. I didn’t know how much until now. And I know we kind of messed up the missions. We went astray at times and things got crazy, but I need him. Please, please bring him back to me.”

  It’s now 5: 20 and nothing has changed. I lie down beside him and place my head on his chest, careful not to make contact with his wound. I don’t know how it happened. I guess the emotional strain and sheer lateness of the hour caught up to me. I fell asleep on his chest.

  I pop my eyes open. I know time has passed by, though I’m not sure just how much. I’m scared to look at the clock. Marcus lies still under me.

  C’mon, Emmy, lift your head up, and see what time it is!

  No, I can’t, but in the end, I don’t have to. The sunlight streams through the window. It’s morning and he has not moved. Warm tears travel down my face and onto his chest. I’m not ashamed for crying this time. I loved him and now he’s gone. He’s gone.

  Then I feel something slowly brush the side of my face. I’m so scared I am wrong about it that I can’t turn my head to look.

  “Good morning,” the First Guardian mumbles.

  I turn and look toward him. His eyes are open. He looks weak and exhausted, but he’s awake. Dear Omnis, he’s awake. I’m laughing and crying at the same time. He smiles weakly.

  “You’re not dead,” I say, sounding extra lame.

  I hug him so tightly he gasps.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” I ask.

  He shakes his head “no.” He’s lying.

  I touch his face to make sure this isn’t a dream of some kind, but it’s real. I asked Omnis for something and he gave it to me.

  Thank you.

  I call Tony and give him the good news. He sends me three vials on a Port and tells me how to apply them to treat the wound. Marcus closes his eyes, but assures me he’s just Recharging. I’m so weak with relief, I don’t even know what to do with myself.

  About an hour later, Marcus’s eyes are open again. And while I’m grateful he’s awake, I’m surprised by how weak he is. I try not to show my concern, but once again he can see right through me.