The Darkest Colors

by David M. Bachman

  “So, my sweet,” Brenna said with a heavy sigh, smiling and looking very calm now, “what happens next?”

  Raina opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated. Her first reaction was to explain that they would both be getting medical help, that they would need to make sure that the amount of silver that had been introduced into their bodies was not toxic enough to actually be poisonous as Brenna had feared. Later, they would probably have to spend a lot of time explaining to the police what had happened here. Brenna probably knew already what would presumably happen, but what Raina sensed from her said that she expected something entirely different. The emotion that she sensed from Brenna was not that of worry or concern now, but simply of affection, of contentedness, and of relief. She wasn’t worried about what was probably going to take place in the next few minutes or hours. She was looking a bit farther beyond that.

  The dragon had been slain, so to speak, but the cost had been high. And, depending upon whom was being seen as the one playing the role, the princess was safe. Many of their allies, their friends, were gone now. Raina was by no means naïve enough to believe that they faced no challenges at all in the future. She still had yet to even be introduced to the Elders, who would no doubt be reluctant to welcome her into the ranks of the IVC. And there were still a lot of people in the world that looked upon vampires, as a whole, with a far less than favorable opinion, to say the least. There was a lot ahead, but certainly, as far as it could be seen in that moment, the storm had passed. The worst was already over.

  “I guess … we live happily ever after,” Raina finally replied with a shrug and a gentle smile.

  Brenna did not reply, but she held her gaze with those lovely, striking emerald green eyes of hers. Tears were still visibly wet and trailing from her eyes. Raina wanted to wipe away those tears, but her own hands were still so wet with blood that it would have been a futile gesture. She simply clutched Brenna’s hand in both of hers, giving it a squeeze. Brenna did not squeeze back. Her smile had long since vanished. And as she watched for a few seconds, Raina saw that her chest was no longer rising and falling with breath. She was utterly and completely still.

  “Oh … oh, no,” Duvessa moaned softly beside her. “Oh, dear … this … this is terrible.”

  “Brenna?” Raina called softly, giving her hand a slight shake. “Brenna? Hey … c’mon.”

  “Oh, Raina,” the Grand Duchess sighed, genuine emotion tightening her voice, “I’m so sorry. I’m so very, very sorry.”

  She ignored her, reaching to gently shake her love’s shoulder. “Brenna? Hey … baby, c’mon…”

  “She’s gone, dear,” Duvessa informed her softly. “I’m so sorry, but she’s gone.”

  Brenna’s eyes were still open, but they were focused upon nothing. As a vampire, her pupils had always been severely dilated, and they still held the same brilliance of color as ever before. Her skin was still quite warm, her hand almost feverishly hot. She looked perfectly alive … but also perfectly still. Raina had felt that knot come completely undone, that inner tension completely releasing itself just after Brenna had last spoken, and since that moment, she had sensed nothing from her direction but what she could only describe as tranquility, an absolute feeling of peace. There were other feelings that she sensed, namely Duvessa’s honest sorrow, as well as her own dread and confusion. But Brenna’s only emotion, the only thing that could be sensed, was infinite serenity, peace … and emptiness.

  “No, she … she’s fine,” Raina insisted. “I can feel it. She’s okay. She’s not…”

  “I feel it, too, dear,” Duvessa said, laying her hands upon Raina’s, “but I’ve felt this many times before. What you are sensing is not emotion. It’s death. Brenna has passed on.”

  Raina looked at the Grand Duchess with her mouth agape, completely at a loss for words. She refused to believe it. Brenna had not passed on to anything. She was right there, her hand still within hers, warm as ever … even though it was completely limp as Duvessa tried to pull Raina away. Her eyes were still open, still beautiful and still looking at her … even though they were motionless, glassy, and unblinking. Raina was sure that if she laid an ear to Brenna’s breast, she would hear and feel the same steady, gentle thumping of the pulse of her dearest friend, her cherished love. They were going to be okay. The worst had passed. They had won. They were going to live happily ever after. That was the way it was supposed to work.

  “No! She’s still here,” Raina insisted, tears streaming from her eyes as her lower lip quivered. “She’s still here with us. I know she is. I can feel it.”

  “Her body is here, but…”

  “Stop saying that! I can still feel her, dammit!” Raina cried, looking to Duvessa. “She’s still here and I can feel it!”

  “She’s not breathing,” the police officer confirmed as he laid his fingers against the side of Brenna’s neck, near the back of her jaw. He waited for a few seconds. “No pulse, either. I’m sorry, but…”

  “She’s not. She’s not! She’s not!” Raina shrieked as Duvessa successfully pulled away her hand and wrapped her arms about her. “Brenna!”

  Raina fell into an ugly, shameless sobbing and wailing as woe overtook her denial. She fought against Duvessa to be close to Brenna, to hold her near and to kiss her lips once more. Duvessa was strong, very strong, but Raina was possessed with panic and anguish, thrashing about and struggling to throw her aside. She became so overwhelmed with her raw, uncontrolled grief that she was not aware of whom, exactly, came to Duvessa’s aid to help restrain Raina. She became totally wild and mad with her misery. The many hands that grabbed her now pulled her back, dragged her away from that sweet, comforting, calming peacefulness that still radiated gently from Brenna. They took her away and dragged her down as she almost managed to bring herself to stand. They dragged her down, down to the floor. As she continued to fight them, she felt herself sinking farther and farther down, as though she was somehow sinking into the floor itself.

  Raina was blind with her grief, both with tears and emotion, and there were brilliant flashes of color about her vision. The pain of her wounds was bad at first, all that movement that aggravated her injuries. But soon even that was overcome by the return of that feeling of numbness, that opiate of warmth and peace she had felt before from Wilhelmina’s blood. Try as she might, her struggles against those that held her became less and less energetic, but not for lack of drive. She wanted to be with Brenna, to be close and together with her forever, but her muscles were no longer responding to her will. There were voices about her, a swirl of emotions surrounding her, but she could not discern any of them individually. She could not be bothered.

  The colors before her closed eyes were bright and beautiful at first, yellows and greens and oranges and pinks. But they soon became darker, less vivid – blues, reds, violets – and as they lessened in intensity, so did everything else. Raina knew this feeling. She knew it all too well. She had been through this before. She knew the process well enough that it was now almost routine. And, as before, she gave herself to it. Raina welcomed death, embraced it readily as it, in turn, embraced her with its blackness and infinity. Raina accepted the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness and one last time dove into the void, that same sea of tranquility and peace into which everyone she had ever loved had already gone. She drifted down, out, and beyond, hoping that in that ocean of the darkest colors of death, she might somehow find Brenna and the others, or that they might find her. And failing that, if nothing else, she hoped to at least find even a small pool of tranquility of her own in which to bask, to cleanse herself of the worries, fears, dreads, and pains of life by rinsing herself in the soothing waters of oblivion. She was ready for it. She had been waiting for it for far, far too long.

  * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Raina awoke to find herself upon a gurney in an ER trauma room. Actually, to say that she awoke was perhaps not entirely accurate, as she had been semi-conscious and drifting in a
nd out of lucidity for the past hour or so. Coming to her senses, somewhat aware now of her surroundings, she abruptly sat up looked about with a sudden near-panic as she failed to remember all that had happened.

  “Relax, relax,” a male told her from nearby as he patted her shoulder, pressing for her to lie back down. “You’re safe. You’re okay, now. Everything is okay.”

  “Where … Loki … what hospital is this?” she asked as she recognized the rough but handsome Finn.

  He hesitated, looking around. “This is, ah … the same hospital where we met you before. I, ah … I don’t know the name.”

  “County? We’re at the county hospital?” she demanded with wide eyes.

  “I think so. Just relax,” he urged her, pressing down a bit more firmly as she attempted to sit up again. “You’re not in danger. It’s okay now.”

  Raina’s mind was racing as she struggled to remember everything that had happened before this. For a moment, she only remembered swords, fighting, and blood, lots of blood … and then she remembered Brenna. The thought crossing her mind must have showed plainly upon her face, as Loki seemed to regard her with a very sympathetic expression and a nod. Raina felt something inside of herself clench so deep and so hard that it tore with a physical pain that made her wince.

  “She’s … she’s dead,” Raina said more than asked. Saying it aloud somehow made it more real for her, and the realization hit quite hard. “Brenna’s dead … isn’t she.”

  Loki nodded sadly, taking hold of her hand. “Yes, she is. I’m sorry, your grace.”

  Raina closed her eyes once more and immediately wished for death to return. Where was the blackness, the comforting void of nothing that had so lovingly embraced her? Where was the bliss of unconsciousness and nothingness that had been taken away from her only a moment ago? Why was she being brought back into this, this state of being that was little more than sorrow, regret, anger, and pain? Was this a price that she was being forced to pay for having known so much pleasure not long ago? Was this the cost of knowing the ultimate comfort of genuine love and the sinful delight of blood? Or was this the work of a vengeful, bigoted God that wasn’t keen on the whole girl-girl thing?

  No, she didn’t need anyone to answer that for her. She had already figured it out on her own. It was something that she had been told before, and something she had adopted as her own personal motto: Nothing good lasts forever. Pessimistic a sentiment as it may have seemed to be, the events of Raina’s life had taught her that this much was true, if nothing else at all. What she and Brenna had shared was something great, something truly rare, and something worth treasuring forever. And, as such, Brenna was now gone forever.

  It seemed only logical to her by now. Of course Brenna was dead! To love someone too much was essentially the same as cursing them with an unforeseen demise. Raina should have never opened up. She should have controlled herself better than she had. If Raina hadn’t loved her so damned much, Brenna would still have been alive at that moment. Countess Wilhelmina had seen and understood their love, and she had destroyed it just to goad Raina into killing her.

  Raina had stupidly assumed that perhaps her initial belief had been wrong, that Brenna would be a different part of her life, someone whom she could count upon to be there forever and always. It was simply dumb and selfish to think that people would stay in her life forever simply because Raina loved them. God had an agenda. He had plans, right? So, what made her so special that her own wishes were more important than His were? Stupid, stupid little girl!

  The tears that fell from Raina’s eyes were silent, her sobs restrained by her self-hatred as she continued to lie there with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Where was the blackness? Where was death? Why did this have to go on? She had learned her lesson. She had learned it beyond any shadow of a doubt this time. Enough was enough, already! Why did she have to continue? What more did she need to learn? Again, Raina had figured out the single most important lesson in life – nothing good lasts forever – and so she had nothing more to gain from her continued existence. She was done. Her journey was over. She could go away now, either up to Heaven, down to Hell or Purgatory, aside to Limbo, or wherever else that she was destined to go once her mortal vessel was empty of life … assuming there was anything at all.

  Colors still mildly flashed about in her vision as that absolute darkness eluded her. She cursed it, loathed it as much as she loathed her own self and her continued life. Perhaps it needed a bit of help. Maybe she simply wanted to live, deep down on some primal, automatic, instinctive level – that part of her too stupid to know any better. Fine, so she would actually try for death. She kept her eyes closed, let out a long final breath, and then sealed her lips and seized her lungs. She would draw no more breath now. She waited, refusing that instinctive urge to breathe, and so she waited, feeling the needy pull within for her for air. She waited more, soon feeling the ache and then the slight burn within her lungs as they demanded oxygen. She waited longer still.

  “Your grace?” she heard Loki call softly with slight concern. “Raina? Raina, are you … are you okay? Can you hear me?”

  She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was going away, too. Alas, that would have required her to take in a breath to explain that to him. She wished that she knew of a way to send out her thoughts, to speak with just her mind instead of wasting good air. Raina continued to hold fast, remaining utterly still. Something inside of her gave a simple, nonverbal but very clear command – just let go – and she obeyed it readily, even happily. She simply allowed herself to go totally limp, telling her own body to begin shutting down. Actually, to be quite honest, her body had already begun to shut down on its own at that point. She simply elected not to put up a fight. It wasn’t a matter of telling herself to do something, but rather ordering it to completely cease to do anything, anything, at all.

  It was working. A monitor began to beep loudly from nearby with an alarm of some sort. Did that mean her heart had stopped? No, her pulse still thudded in her throat, soon making its way up into her eardrums with a “wee-ooh-wee-ooh” sort of sound. Her lungs ached for air, pleading for mercy. She continued to deny them. She didn’t even feel like she could draw another breath, even if she had wanted to try. The monitor continued to beep, and then there were voices, people suddenly surrounding her – she could hear them, feel them. Loki explained with sincere concern that she was not breathing, and then hands were upon her, checking her, examining her.

  There it was! There was the blackness, erasing those dim flashes of color around her vision that seemed both to grow in intensity and diminish at once as life crept out of her body. White noise filled her ears as true blackness washed over her vision. She held her breath, held it as long as she could, and almost felt herself smiling as she welcomed that blissful nothingness again. The longer she held it, the less unpleasant it felt, and the easier it was to continue. Quitting was easy, so easy. If she had known it could be this easy to begin with, to actually will herself to die by simply giving up, she would have done this a long, long time ago. Darkness came, creeping into her and spreading throughout her once more with its numbing, cooling peacefulness. Here it came, the relief of release, the end of responsibility and suffering.

  Raina wanted to be with Brenna, to know the same tranquility that she now surely knew, in whatever way that version of peace in death could be interpreted. She could not bear to think that Brenna would have to be so alone, to spend eternity in that nothingness without knowing that she was still loved, oblivious to the fact that Raina still needed and wanted her. If it was to Heaven or Hell they were going, she wanted to be at her side in either case. No one should ever have to know death alone, not when they were so dearly loved in life. If it was the absoluteness of an abyss, if being dead was to know nothing but eternal silence and blackness and numbness, then she wanted to forever tumble into it with their souls still entwined. She waited, she hoped anew, and she dared to believe that this was it. She dared to dream that i
t was finally over.

  And then, suddenly, Raina realized that she was breathing again.

  Her eyes opened slowly, her eyelids heavy now. Loki was still there, still holding her hand, but there were others, as well – nurses, doctors, or whatever they were. Why did he bother? Why should he care whether she lived or died? And why should anyone else? She was a monster, a freak of nature, and she had nothing more to do with her life. Sure, it was the job of these people to save the lives of other people … but what if a person didn’t want or need to be saved? And what if it wasn’t even a person they were saving, but rather a vampire? Indeed, this was all quite a waste of time and effort. The tubes they had inserted through her nose and down her throat to force air into her were stupid … and incredibly uncomfortable. The dull ache of the IV needles that she could dimly feel in both of her arms were completely unnecessary, as well as the bags of various fluids that were being fed into her veins through those needles.

  If they wanted to do something useful with her body, they should have been sucking every last drop of blood from her veins and sending it out to labs across the country, studying her freakish DNA to better understand her condition. If nothing else at all, she hoped that her body could at least be sacrificed for the good of others in such a way that prevented anyone else from having to experience all that she had. Of course, blood could not tell her tale in its entirety. Genetic mapping could not tell people the lesson that she had learned. No measure of her tissue could adequately teach people the hard, indisputable truth that explained life in its entirety: nothing good lasts forever. Her vampiric physiology seemed to teach only the complete opposite. Youth and beauty were everlasting, scars always healed, and none of the bad or unhappy or otherwise undesirable things in life were anything but temporary inconveniences.