by S. H. Kolee
Simon didn't look as impressed, his eyebrows lifting. "Do you really think that journal is going to help you?"
"I told you that while I was under hypnosis, my aunt said I would find the answers I needed in her journal. I was starting to think I'd never find it." I clutched the book tightly. "We should get out of here. Claudia might come back looking for me. We can go back to Lenore's house. I think it's safer there."
Simon nodded, standing with effortless grace and holding out his hand to me. I grasped his hand and he pulled me up fluidly.
"Thanks," I said, brushing off the dust that I had gotten on my sweater while digging underneath the floorboard. That's why I didn't see Simon rushing towards me. All I felt were his hands slamming me roughly against the wall. My head cracked against it with a sickening thud, the impact making my vision go hazy for a few seconds.
"Simon! What are you doing?!"
I whimpered when Simon jammed his arm across my neck, holding me up against the wall. His blue eyes were glinting with madness, his expression a grimace of malice. My thoughts were jumbled, not understanding what was happening. The pressure against my throat was starting to become excruciating, but I just stared at Simon blankly. I wondered if I had passed out and was dreaming now. This couldn't be really happening.
"This time I'm going to succeed in finishing you off," Simon hissed, so close to me that I could feel his spittle against my face as he spoke. "I'm going to enjoy killing you."
Chapter Six
"Simon!" I gasped, barely able to speak with the pressure against my larynx. My mind wasn't willing to accept what was happening, but my body automatically went into survival mode. I kicked out my legs, trying to make contact with his lower body, but Simon smoothly stepped out of the way, his arm continuing to crush my throat.
"You're a stubborn little bitch," Simon spat out, his eyes glowing with enjoyment. He was taking pleasure in this, his expression showing growing excitement. "You have to promise to make this fun for me. I like a little resistance."
My mind shut down as I grabbed at his arm with both hands, digging my nails into his flesh. Simon released the pressure on my throat, grabbing both wrists and slamming them against the wall above my head, pinioning them so I was helpless.
"Do you know how painful I can make this for you?" Simon was seething, the cruelty on his face taking my breath away.
"Simon, what's happening?" I wheezed, my throat burning with each word. Fear and desperation were setting in and I didn't understand what was happening. I had no doubt that Simon had been standing before me moments before, his eyes full of love and concern. The person before me wasn't Simon, but I hadn't seen the vardoger overtake his body. I couldn't believe that had happened, because that would mean Simon was gone. I couldn't accept that. "I know this isn't you! Simon, please! Where are you?!"
Simon smiled widely, the expression a mockery on his sadistic face. "I'm right in front of you, sweetheart." His gaze lowered, traveling down my body at a leisurely pace. I trembled under his scrutiny, my fear reaching heights as never before. "As distasteful as I find you, I can push aside my disgust momentarily, if it means making you scream in pain."
He shoved my wrists, which were still pinioned against the wall above me, together so that he could hold them prisoner with one hand, his other hand lowering to grasp my chin, his fingers digging cruelly into my flesh. I struggled against him frantically, trying to buck him off me, but he was too strong.
"I should fix your mouth first. I'm sick of hearing you talk. I'm sure you'd find it a lot harder to spew your garbage if I pulled out your teeth one by one." The pressure of his hand grasping my chin increased, forcing my mouth open. Fury rose in me and I felt like a crazed animal being prepared for slaughter. I struck out with the only weapon I had, twisting my head sharply and sinking my teeth into the fleshy side of his hand, biting down viciously until I tasted blood.
"Fuck! You bitch!"
Simon immediately let go of me, ripping his hand out of my mouth. He was shaking with rage as he backhanded me so hard I fell to the floor, my vision blurry from the impact. I could taste blood inside my mouth, but all I could think about was finding a weapon. My fingers wrapped around the lamp I had dropped earlier and I held it out in front of me.
"Get away from me!" I screamed. Blood was dripping from Simon's hand where I had bit him, but he didn't seem to notice as he stalked me, backing me into a corner. I tried to concentrate, to imagine Simon's vardoger leaving his body and being sucked into mine, but I was so frazzled that my concentration was shit.
I was preparing to swing the lamp against Simon's head with all my might when he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked confused, blinking like he was trying to shake himself out of a fog. He drew in a sharp breath when he saw me, stepping forward.
"Stop!" I screamed, shaking so badly that I was surprised my lips could form the words. "Don't take another step or I'll bash your head in."
Simon immediately halted, his confusion turning into concern. "Caitlin! You're bleeding! What happened?"
"Is this some kind of fucking trap? You're going to pretend you're Simon and then attack me when I let you get close? Do you think I'm an idiot!?"
"Caitlin, it's me!" Simon cried out, looking desperate. He held out a hand in supplication then froze when he saw the blood dripping from it. He looked up at me and then down at his bloodied hand again.
"I don't understand," he whispered, shaking his head like he was in a bad dream and wanted to wake up. "The last thing I remember is you finding the journal and then...I'm standing in front of you, and you're screaming at me, bleeding." He met my eyes, pleading with me. "Caitlin, please. Tell me what happened."
I heard myself whimpering, feeling disconnected from the scene as if I were a bystander. Simon, the boy I loved, had been overtaken by his vardoger. I hadn't been able to save him. Could I actually believe he was still inside there as well? From what my aunt had told me, only seers were strong enough to not let vardogers push their souls out of their bodies, instead existing side by side in the human form. But here was Simon before me, swearing that it was him. And, by God, I wanted to believe him.
I forced myself to think, to assess the situation rationally. I knew firsthand that the rules were changing, and it was possible that Simon had been able to resist the vardoger pushing his soul out. Hell, anything was possible at this point.
"So you don't remember attacking me?" I asked cautiously, still not convinced that this wasn't a trap.
"What?" Simon choked out in a strangled voice. "I did that to you?" He slowly started shaking his head, looking at me in disbelief. "I could never hurt you. Never!"
"How do you explain all this then?" I gestured toward his injured hand. "You were holding me against the wall, so I bit you to escape." I didn't add the part about him promising to pull out my teeth one by one. I shuddered just thinking about it. I wanted to pretend that never happened.
Simon looked at me helplessly, a haunted expression on his face. "I can't believe it. I'd kill myself before I hurt you. But..." His voice trailed off as he glanced down at his injured hand, and then back up at me. "I felt something. Right after you found the journal, I felt something inside me. Like something was pushing me. I don't know how to explain it, but it was like an energy was trying to push me out of the way. I felt it earlier too, but I resisted it and the feeling went away. But I was just so happy to find you today that I didn't care about the crazy feelings inside of me. I just figured it was relief at being with you again."
I took a step forward, wanting to believe Simon, but still fearful that this was a trap. I pushed away the fear, the desolate look in Simon's eyes making my reservations disappear.
"This is what I've been telling you. I think your vardoger is inside of you. It's overtaken your body, but somehow you've been able to resist it, to keep your soul intact." I hesitated, and then took his uninjured hand in mine. Simon's hand wrapped around mine gratefully. "It sounds like you were able to stop it from taki
ng control of your body. You must be unbelievably strong."
"So it's true? Everything you told me earlier is true?"
"I wish it wasn't, Simon. I wish I was just crazy and I could take a magic pill that would make everything alright."
"Oh God," Simon groaned, releasing my hand and collapsing onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his uninjured hand. "How can...how can I accept this? How can I accept that I hurt you?"
I sat next to him, stroking his back to soothe him. "You didn't hurt me, Simon. I know that wasn't you."
Simon looked up, his face looking ravaged with pain and guilt. "It doesn't matter how you put it. It doesn't matter if I was possessed. I'm still the one that put my hands on you and hurt you." He reached up, touching the corner of my mouth. I winced from the pain and his eyes darkened. "How did I do this?" he whispered.
"You didn't do it," I insisted in a low voice. "It wasn't you."
"How?"
"You...it backhanded me." I regretted telling him when his eyes glazed with agony, but at the same time I was tired of lying about everything. All I wanted to do was tell the truth now.
"You need to get away from me," Simon rasped, looking away. "Before I hurt you again."
I cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at me. "Simon, stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault. You're a victim in this. And you said yourself that you were able to control it taking over before. Anytime you feel it trying to push you out of the way, push back."
"And you're willing to take that chance? You're willing to risk me hurting you again?"
"I'm willing to risk anything for you," I whispered, my heart tightening with love. Now that Simon's vardoger was inside of him, I could never leave him. His vardoger would have to kill me before I ever gave up on him. "We'll figure this out together. Now that I have my aunt's journal, I'll get some answers on how I can destroy the vardogers."
I stood up, drawing Simon to his feet alongside me. "Let's get out of here."
Simon followed me outside, but I could see his emotions warring inside of him. His complexion was even paler than before and there was a stark desperation etched on his face that worried me. I hoped that after the shock of what happened wore off, he would be able to accept everything I had told him.
Simon nodded wordlessly when I told him to follow me in his car to Lenore's house. A part of me was afraid that Simon would drive off instead of following me, convinced that I was safer without him around, so I was relieved when he parked his car behind Lenore's when we arrived at her house.
"Let's get you cleaned up first," I said when we entered the house. I guided Simon into the bathroom where I gently cleaned his wound with a washcloth. I found antiseptic in the medicine cabinet and gently applied it. Simon was silent throughout the process, watching me with bottomless eyes. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was nervous, fearful that Simon's vardoger would push out into the forefront again. But I told myself I couldn't be scared of Simon. He needed me and I needed him. That was all that mattered.
Simon stopped me when I turned to place the washcloth on the sink and took it from my hand.
"You're bleeding too," he said softly, gently wiping my mouth and chin where blood had dried. I had been so concerned about Simon that I forgot about my own injury, but it seemed of minimal importance with everything else that had happened.
Simon touched me reverently, the washcloth whispering against my skin. Simon dropped the washcloth and replaced it with his gentle fingers, softly caressing my face. His eyes searched mine before he spoke.
"Forgive me."
"Simon, there's nothing to forgive. It wasn't you-"
Simon shook his head, his thumb caressing my bottom lip silencing me. He leaned down, his mouth replacing his thumb. He kissed me softly, light and grazing as if he were trying to heal me with his lips. My heart tightened at his gesture, his profound gentleness shattering me.
"Forgive me," he repeated softly against my lips.
"I forgive you," I whispered, knowing that he needed this absolution, even though he was blameless. "I forgive you, Simon. I love you."
Simon groaned, crushing me to him, burying his face in my hair. "I can't put into words what I'm feeling right now. I'm mad and worried and scared shitless. I feel sick with what I've allowed to happen to you. I promised to keep you safe, but I'm the one that hurt you."
I gently pulled Simon's head back so I could see his face, cradling his head between my hands. "Simon, stop this. Stop blaming yourself. I need you. I need your help. You can't help me if you're too busy being consumed with guilt."
I knew this tactic would snap Simon out of it, and I was right. He took in a deep cleansing breath, exhaling slowly. "You're right." He held me close, his expression fierce. "I love you so much. Always remember that."
I nodded, placing a quick kiss on his lips, trying not to wince from the brief sting I felt from it. We went into the living room to look through Aunt Brenda's journal.
Aunt Brenda wasn't a very prolific writer. The entries were spaced out by weeks, sometimes by months. As I read through each entry, nothing jumped out at me. No clue as to how to destroy the newly evolved vardogers, no information about a metal that was able to make the powers of iridium obsolete. I was frustrated because I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for.
Simon read over my shoulder, not commenting although I'm sure he sensed my growing impatience. I flipped the page to the last entry dated about two months ago, my stomach dropping as I read my aunt's words.
My dream last night haunted me like no other. I'm convinced it was a dream and not a vision, because it had nothing to do with vardogers. But Eunice seemed so alive in my dream. I haven't dreamed about her in years, and those dreams were just memories of happier days. But in my dream last night, Eunice was begging me for my help. She said her daughter was in trouble and I was the only one that could help her. I haven't seen Caitlin since she was a little girl, and nothing would make me happier than seeing her again, but I know George won't allow it. He's convinced that we're a bad influence, that we'll taint her somehow. I just pray that she's been spared the visions. It would be too cruel for her to experience them with no one to explain why she's having them. I'm so tempted to reach out to her, to talk to her despite George's warnings. But he's her father. I have to respect his wishes.
But that wasn't the most disturbing part of my dream. The most disturbing part was Eunice telling me I needed to help Caitlin until she could return to her. That she was coming back for her. What does that mean? Is Eunice still alive? I can't believe she would still be alive and not tell anyone, especially her own daughter. But maybe it's true. Her body was never found. I don't know what to make of all of this. It would be my greatest wish to have Eunice still alive. I miss my best friend. And more importantly, Caitlin needs a mother.
"She had a dream my mother was still alive," I whispered, looking up at Simon. "She said her body was never found. What if it's true?"
"I don't know, Caitlin," Simon said cautiously. "It was just a dream."
"Seers don't just have dreams. It has to mean something. I have to call my father. He might know something. Can I use your cell phone?"
Simon dug into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out my phone with a rueful smile. "I kept it with me, just in case you called it for some reason."
My father answered on the first ring, sounding gruff. Almost worried.
"Caitlin, where the hell have you been? Your friends called me, practically hysterical, looking for you."
"Dad, I'm alright. I just...needed to get away for a little bit."
My father let out a deep sigh, sounding weary. "That's what I told them. You need to learn to be less selfish."
I ignored his last comment. "Dad, I have to ask you a question. It's about Mom." There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone so I continued. "How did she die? All anyone ever told me was that she was killed by a drunk driver. How exactly did it happen? Did you actually see her body?"
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br /> "Caitlin Kile, you are disgusting." My father's voice was shaking with rage, and I started to tremble. For all the years that my father had ridiculed me or acted condescendingly, I had never heard him speak to me in a tone so filled with fury. "How dare you ask me about your mother's body? What kind of sick game are you playing?"
"I just need to know the truth!" I cried out. "I'm tired of you never telling me about my mother, pretending like she never existed! Did you know Aunt Brenda dreamed that Mom was still alive?"
"What the hell are you doing talking to Brenda? I've made it explicitly clear to her that she's never to contact you!"
"She's missing, Dad!" I choked out. "She's missing and I think she might be in trouble." I lowered my voice, the lump in my throat making it hard for me to speak. "I know you know about the visions."
My father's voice seethed with anger. "My sister is a lunatic, and I was always afraid you'd turn out just like her. It seems my fears were correct. You're as insane as she is."
"Dad, she's disappeared," I sobbed, not able to hold back tears. I couldn't believe how cold my father was being. No matter how much he had mistreated me in the past, I still believed he loved me. That belief was quickly being destroyed. "Your sister is missing and I think I'm next."
"Don't call me again until you've pulled yourself together," my father commanded icily, the frigid tone replacing his anger. "Don't make me regret not having you committed."
He hung up abruptly and I slowly lowered the phone. Simon was watching me with concern, but I couldn't face him. I buried my face in my hands, unwilling to believe my father could be so cruel.
"Caitlin." I felt gentle hands on me, pulling my face up. I saw a mixture of sorrow and anger on Simon's face. "I couldn't help but hear what your father said. He's an asshole and doesn't deserve you for a daughter."
Simon pulled me close and I clung to him, my body wracked with sobs. I let it all out, the grief of realizing how little my father cared for me, the stress of the past few days, the fear that everything was whirling out of control and I had no idea how to stop it. Simon held me through all of it until I finally quieted down, left with nothing but an empty ache inside me. I pulled away when I felt like I had my emotions under control.
