Ela: Forever (Waking Forever)

by Heather McVea

  ***

  “Hello Ela. I’m Gilmar, and you’re a gift of sorts. Or at least that’s what Mateo wants us to believe. The reality is you’re meant to minimize the inherent friction between your kind and mine. Especially as Mateo intends to expand his influence. The last thing he needs or wants is interference from the packs.” Gilmar was the largest man Ela had ever seen. He was nearly seven feet tall with broad shoulders and long, curly brown hair. His skin looked tan and course, contrasting his nearly clear eyes.

  “Your eyes,” Ela said. “They remind me of someone I know.”

  Gilmar smiled. “Ah yes, Kesora. As you know, the shifters are cousins and share some of our lycan traits.” He knelt next to Ela and tightened the silver bands around her wrists.

  “There’s no harm in telling you since you’ll never leave this room again. Kesora isn’t your only Judas.” Gilmar rose from his haunches and looked down at Ela. “Though, from what I was told, it’s hardly a betrayal. You have this coming.”

  Ela turned her head as the door hinge squeaked. Coming through a short square metal door was Ana, followed closely by Albert. Ela hissed and strained against the silver. “You bitch!”

  Ana smiled and stood next to Gilmar as Albert leaned against the wall. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” She crouched next to Ela and ran her finger along the woman’s jaw. “Do you know why this is happening to you?”

  Ela glared at Ana, thrashing about. Her eyes began to glow and iridescent blue in the darkness of the cellar. “Kesora and Ma-”

  Ana placed her finger over Ela’s lips. “Shhhh. You’re so short sighted.” Confident Ela would remain quiet, Ana took a deep breath and stood.

  “You made a dire choice while in Spain. You used a beautiful vampire as a pawn in one of your sick endeavors.” She looked down at Ela, her eyes filling with blood. “Gahiji was my brother. He was so helpless as a boy. Abused, mutilated, and then Mateo saved him. He saved us both. For over two hundred years Gahiji and I knew happiness, and then you ended him as if he were nothing.”

  Ana clenched her jaw as her incisors extended past her upper lip. “I’ll do you no such favors. Death is too merciful for the likes of you.”

  Ana looked at Gilmar and nodded. The lycan turned toward the small wooden table and pulled a long silver needled syringe from the drawer. Ela spit at Ana’s feet. “When I get loose, there will come from me such a rage-”

  Ana punched Ela in the chest, cutting off the last of her words. “Just shut up!” Ana kicked Ela in the ribs and a loud cracking sound echoed through the room. “Fuck, all you do is talk.”

  Ela gasped and twisted until her shoulders dislocated and she managed to lift herself several inches off the floor. Then a heavy, crushing weight bore down on her and her arms stopped working as Albert brought his fists down onto her clavicles, shattering them. Straddling her, Albert reached behind him and grabbed her ankles. “This might hurt a little.”

  He pulled himself forward until his face was only a few inches from Ela’s, effectively snapping her legs at the knees. Grinning he ran his tongue along her neck and bit into her right ear lobe. “Watching you all these years taught me to enjoy this. I should thank you, really.”

  He jerked his head back and leapt to his feet, taking a chunk of Ela’s ear with him. He spat the flesh on the ground.

  Ela’s back began to spasm as her body worked to heal itself. “No, no, no. This won’t do.” Ana signaled to Albert. “Break them again.” Albert obeyed, snapping Ela’s legs and arms again.

  Clenching her teeth, Ela twisted at the waist, trying desperately to get leverage against the restraints. She felt something hard being slid under her, and then her entire body was in a vice as a tremendous weight was brought down on her. Her legs and arms were bent at awkward angles and healing badly because of the newly applied restraints.

  “Silver is a wonderful thing.” Ana tapped the cage that now encased Ela. “You’re strong enough that you might be able to break through wrist and ankle restraints, but this is something altogether different.” Ana nodded to Albert who stood to the side, a rope attached to a pulley in his hand. He pulled the rope, and Ela was slowly raised up off the floor and into a standing position.

  To her horror, she was pressed between what looked like two mattress frames. The frames were made entirely of silver and, despite her best efforts, held her completely immobile.

  Ana stood in front of Ela, her eyes glowing and her incisors completely extended. “I let you touch me. All those times in your bed, the only comfort I found - the only thing that made you bearable was imagining this moment.”

  Ela leveled her gaze at Ana. “It wasn’t that great for me either.” A wicked grin spread across her lips.

  Ana’s face was expressionless. “Let’s see what you think of this then.”

  With a quick upward thrust, Ana slashed Ela’s throat with her nail. Taking the syringe from Gilmar, she forced the long silver needle into the open wound. Ela screamed as the silver was plunged into her. The needle felt like it was made of fire. As her skin healed around it, effectively encasing it in her neck, a faint burning smell permeated the room.

  Ana smiled and patted Ela’s cheek. “Good girl. That should be in there, well, forever since your body can’t expel it.” Stepping back she looked at Gilmar. “Finish it.”

  The lycan moved toward Ela with a thin, long, rubber hose he attached to the exposed end of the syringe. Ela’s eyes widened as she watched her blood flow through the hose and into a large glass container five feet away. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and she thought she might vomit. Her muscles began to burn and then her bones felt as if they were vibrating. The pain was so intense that in spite of not wanting to give Ana the pleasure of her suffering, Ela cried out.

  “Then it’s a deal?” Gilmar’s voice broke through Ela’s pain. “She’s ours now?”

  “Yes. The blood is the life.” Ana looked at Ela for what she hoped would be the last time. “And it’s yours forever.”

  Ela’s arms and legs began to go numb as she watched Albert, Ana, and Gilmar leave the small cellar. Slowly she became only aware of the burning that radiated out from the center of her chest into what felt like an infinite abyss.

  She was breathing deeply - not out of necessity, but so there would be a sound other than the screaming in her head. Weight pushed down on her from every direction, and then she was still.

  ***

  A cold, bitter rag was being forced down Ela’s throat. This was a weekly ritual she had grown to despise in measures she couldn’t quantify with words. It was 1977, and it had been nearly ten years since Ana and Albert’s betrayal. The constant draining of her blood had left her body motionless and emaciated. This weekly feeding of animal blood maintained her just enough to ensure her blood continued to flow for the benefit of her lycan jailers.

  It had been so long since she had fed properly that the once unbearable burning was now a deafening silence that had taken root inside her, as if her body was submerged in bitter cold water. She could barely manage to bring her eyes into focus when someone entered the room. Her sense of smell and taste had vanished.

  “They say you were once beautiful. I guess if I look hard enough I can see that.” A young woman’s voice broke through the silence. It had been years since Ela had heard a female’s voice. Her feedings were done exclusively by the males in the pack.

  “Don’t talk to it!” A man’s raspy voice shook Ela out of her revelry. “You just feed it and leave. Understand?”

  “Yes.” The young woman sounded annoyed. “You don’t have to be such an ass.”

  “Look, these things may seem helpless, and then– bam! It’s sunk its teeth into you and you’re dead.” The man’s voice became more animated as he went on. “One of these things could rip through the entire pack before we knew what happened.”

  “That can’t be true. One vampire against eight lycan wouldn’t stand a chance.” Ela felt the young woman’s fingers brush he
r lips as she pulled the bloody rag out of her mouth. “Besides, look at her. She looks like she’s a thousand years old. Just skin and bones.”

  “Stupid girl! You don’t know anything. Don’t take pity on it. Come on, let’s go.” There was a series of clicks.

  “You go ahead. I’m going to wait until she’s done.” The woman’s voice felt like a warm breeze across Ela’s face.

  “Shit! Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” The man’s voice was edgier. “You don’t come down here alone, and you certainly don’t feed it by yourself.”

  “Don’t you feel guilty, Aji? I mean, we’re killing her.” The sound of running water filled the room.

  “First of all, no. Second, you can’t kill it like this. Its kind can stay alive on little to no blood. Lastly, whatever guilt I may feel is trumped by the strength and energy its blood provides.”

  The man exhaled, followed by a deep sigh. “Now, come on.” The running water stopped, there were a series of metallic clicks, and then the room was silent again.

  Ela had grown very good at letting her mind drift. It was the only part of her body unaffected by the torture. She imagined entire years had passed while she lay dormant, but the woman’s voice, and the touch of her warm skin, had stirred something in Ela. The coldness that had consumed her began to recede and an almost unbearable heat was rising up within her like static discharging through her body.

  She opened her eyes and, directing all of her concentration, brought the room into focus. There were no lights on in the room, and though in the past this would not have mattered, in her weakened condition Ela had to squint to make out the details of her surroundings.

  It was the same cellar she had been trapped in. She could see the glass jar half full with her blood, and the rubber hose that ran from it to her neck.

  It was just a matter of time before the modest increase in strength the animal blood gave her would fade, and her eyes with it. She scanned the room and saw a metal trashcan overflowing with discarded rags.

  They’re filthy animals. The voice in Ela’s head was contemptuous and angry. She looked up to see the same rope Albert had pulled over a decade ago suspending the silver vise she was encased in from the ceiling. There was no hope of snapping the rope, as she barely had the strength to move her eyes.

  A calmness settled over Ela, and she felt the stirrings of anticipation rise anew in her. This was not her fate; this was not her lot. She would bide her time and in an unguarded moment, she would have her revenge and her freedom.

  In her diminished state, she found herself drifting in and out of time. She wasn’t sure how long her musings about escape lasted. She heard the clicking of locks, followed by the creaking of the metal door being opened.

  “It’s not exactly that time again, but you look like you could use this.” The woman’s voice hit Ela like a slap in the face, and she willed herself to stay still. A series of tears and the sound of running water preceded the woman placing the bloody rag in Ela’s mouth. “Drink up.”

  Ela sucked on the rag, gnashing her back teeth at the rag and swallowing bits of it. She needed as much of the blood in her as possible. The slight surge of energy she had come to expect skittered through her. A moment later, the woman was pulling the used rag from Ela’s mouth. With all the energy she could muster, Ela jerked her head forward the inch the silver straps allowed and, opening her mouth, sunk her teeth into the fleshy part of the woman’s hand between her thumb and forefinger.

  The emptiness that had consumed Ela began to crumble as the warm blood surged into her mouth and down her throat. The space around her stretched and the void she had laid in for so long snapped, bringing the world into focus. As her senses returned, she became aware that it was no longer a woman’s hand she clenched between her teeth. A snarling, growling wolf pulled and snapped at Ela’s face.

  Unrelenting, Ela channeled all of her strength into her jaw, determined not to release the lycan until she had drained it of every last drop of blood. The animal pulled away from Ela with such force the rope securing the vise to the ceiling snapped and the cage, along with Ela, fell on top of the lycan.

  The thrashing about of the animal worked to Ela’s advantage as the lycan’s razor-like claws tore and ripped at the leather hinges of the cage. With one powerful thrust of its rear leg, the animal dislodged the hinge securing the upper right corner of the vise.

  Feeling for the first time in over ten years, Ela's wrist moved and she extended her hand, clutching the shards of silver and pulled them apart. She moved the entirety of her left arm and, while still hanging onto the lycan, Ela unhinged the clamps holding the cage together. She felt as if she were moving through wet sand because every movement took all of her concentration and energy to execute.

  Ela’s hearing had returned and she could hear the lycan’s heartbeat slowing. The animal lay pinned under Ela and the cage. Once Ela could no longer hear the animal’s heartbeat, she released her bite and dragged herself free of the vice.

  The fracturing of her bones, and subsequent healing while bound, had left her legs useless. Her right leg jutted out to the side at an obtuse angle, while her left leg was bent awkwardly under her. As the lycan’s blood began to course through her, and she felt the fog of starvation lifting, Ela reached down and snapped her right leg, and then her left at the knees. Forcing both legs back into alignment, she waited until the popping and cracking sounds, indicative of her body healing, subsided.

  Sitting on the floor of the cellar, Ela looked around. There were no windows and the small metal door was closed. She wondered why no other lycan had been alerted by the struggle. Moving her toes for the first time in ten years, Ela felt relieved that she appeared to be mending quickly. She cautiously rose to her knees and then, using her arms, pushed herself to her feet.

  Ela looked around the room. The vividness her sight had afforded her so many years ago began to take focus again. She saw a young brown haired woman lying on the floor, naked and pale. Her skin looked unnaturally coarse and each shoulder blade was jutting out from her back at a hundred and twenty degree angle.

  The lycan Ela had just drained died transitioning back into her human form. Ela knelt down next to the body and turned the woman’s head to the right. Her lips were full and complimented a defined jaw and angular nose. She had been beautiful.

  Placing her hands on either side of the lycan’s head, Ela twisted it to the right, and then back to the left. With a swift pull, she severed the head from the neck.

  Ela stood and dropped the head so that it landed on the corpse’s chest. Her chest tightened and a surge of heat ran the length of her body. The tense chill that had left her body stiff and lifeless was rapidly being replaced by the familiar burning. Ela raised her hands. Where they had once been poreless and perfect, the skin now resembled worn leather left to age in a desert sun.

  She looked down at her naked body and gasped at the protruding ribs and hip bones bulging from thin, course skin. More blood.

  Ela lifted her head and took a deep breath in through her nose. Instantly the tangy metallic smell of blood permeated her senses. In a single step, she closed the space between her and the metal door. Clenching her fist, she drew back her thin arm and, with all the strength the lycan blood had given her, punched through the door.

  She bent her elbow at a ninety degree angle on the opposite side of the door and, using the door frame as leverage, pushed back with her legs. A sharp grinding sound echoed through the space and the door was ripped from its hinges.

  Flinging the now shredded metal to the ground, Ela crouched on her haunches, bracing for the onslaught of lycans. After several seconds, and a deafening silence from the darkened corridor, she cautiously stood. Taking several deep breaths through her nose, she detected the residue of lycan scent, but the pungent smell of wet earth and rotten flowers she had come to associate with the animals was absent.

  Where the hell are they? Ela cautiously walked into the corridor. She had to escap
e the compound and feed. Already the energy and strength the lycan blood had provided was fading. So many years of starvation meant she would need to feed constantly for several days before the weakness completely subsided, and her cravings leveled off.

  Ela moved slowly through the winding stone wall corridor. The ceiling was low and there were no lights. She struggled to see in the darkness and worried she wouldn’t be able to see a door should one present itself. Rounding a corner, Ela heard footsteps from what sounded like fifty feet ahead of her. The sound was accompanied by steady breathing and the rapid pounding of a lycan heart.

  There you are. Ela crouched low to the floor with her back pressed to the wall and waited.

  The footsteps halted. “Sita?” A man’s voice echoed down the hall. “Are you down there?”

  The lycan took three steps and then hesitated. “You shouldn’t be down here alone, girl.” After several seconds, the lycan continued toward Ela.

  Ten feet from Ela, the lycan stopped and she could hear the man sniffing. The animal’s heart rate increased, and the smell of burning leaves filled the small space.

  He’s shifted. Barely had the thought gone through Ela’s mind, and then a large, coarse haired wolf was upon her. A frenzy of razor sharp teeth and claws whirled and snarled around Ela, slashing into her thinned skin.

  Instead of pushing the animal away, Ela wrapped her arms around its massive torso and crushed it to her. Opening her mouth to the point her lower jaw nearly dislocated, Ela bit into the lycan’s right shoulder. The animal yelped as Ela ripped the joining tendons and muscle from the shoulder joint.

  Blood gushed from the wound and in a split second, Ela pushed the injured animal to the side. On top of the wolf now, Ela sunk her teeth into the front of the lycan’s throat. Not releasing her bite this time, she began pulling blood from the animal in large gulps.

  As the wolf’s heartbeat slowed, Ela felt the coarse hair that filled her mouth recede, replaced with thick skin. She opened her eyes and released the now lifeless lycan. At her feet lay a middle aged man, his arms and legs twisted from the forced and incomplete transition back into human that his death had triggered.