“... Flynn.”
My family name sounded as someone had screamed into my ears, but it was the hand on my shoulder that made me jolt and jump around.
White had probably repeated his words, or said something else, meaning to reassure me, comfort me or whatever, addressing me with the name he recently had discovered, but then, as my eyes refocused, I found him several steps away.
His heart was hammering in my ears, his breath shallow, his pupils dilated.
Everything about him was fear.
Although he reassembled himself quickly – mostly because I was so shocked about my own reaction – I can tell, no, I know it was just a façade, because he knew behaving like nothing unsettled him, usually did work for everyone.
I don’t know why I realized it just then and not earlier. Maybe, it’s because I had been distracted by myself, by you, by fighting the Beast in me, not concentrating on the real enemy. And it’s not like I am able to do that now, knowing that tomorrow everything could be different, or worse.
The best reaction I could have shown would have been for me to pick up the conversation, to simply react verbally to the new information he had given me, but I couldn’t. I still cannot catch and sort out all the thoughts and possibilities in my head.
My confusion, however, seemed to work just as well. Just like the fact that I realized that my claws had surfaced and they wouldn’t disappear – or rather: I couldn’t focus to do that – I simply clenched my hands into fists.
“Your schedule will not change for now. I will allow you to continue seeing her”, White stepped closer again, but not as close as he had been before, “but since we can’t tell how she reacts, you can’t see her in person. At least until we can be sure how she will react.”
I guess I managed to nod.
“I knew, you would understand”, the smile on White’s face felt fake, because his eyes weren’t in it.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t look at you right then, my gaze was glued to the man beside me and the new view I had learned. Still, it wasn’t the fascination of actually starting to see beneath that shell of him, which made me fear the sight of you, but rather the apprehension that this pale and wan human being that was you, could open her eyes and be someone else from the person I love.
I actually feared that your eyes would snap open at that very moment and that you would sit up and stare through that window to see me and not recognize me, or even worse: be terrified of me.
Oh no, I want you to wake up and return to the living, although being asleep is the safest state you could be in.
It’s just that... I’m not ready.
Of course White wouldn’t give me enough time to process the information and prepare myself. I just don’t get why he would risk me freaking out, losing my control, because of you.
It makes me think, question, wonder, if you aren’t even asleep all the time. I thought about this before, didn’t I?
And if this is the case, the idea comes into my head that all of this, especially you, could have been a part of his plan, you might be one of his associates.
No, this is crazy.
This happens when things get over my head.
Thank God, I gave your diary back.
And still, if you were one of his, your diary would have been a forgery.
No, no, no. I know you were real, you are real. All that you made me feel, all that I could sense, all you gave me, those things you said, nothing of this was just an act.
Even though White would possibly go to those lengths, find you, hire you... the girl I once knew wouldn’t have agreed to something like this, wouldn’t have taken the risk of going through all those things I put you through.
I cannot believe that.
I know you are real. You are true.
I’m just losing my mind.
Because I’m terrified by the idea of you returning to this place that is even worse than Hell.
* * *
You said it to me once.
The last day we had together.
Almost six weeks ago.
Tomorrow, it will be six weeks exactly.
I wonder... I wonder if I was right.
If I am right about why they took you away and even if this wasn’t the real reason for them to separate us, if my senses were right.
Are you really pregnant?
Were you?
Are you still?
... is this the reason why White gave you his best physician as your caretaker? Or because he turned you into a Beast as well?
* * *
Hers was the first face I saw returning from the dead. You can understand that, for me, at that moment, she rather looked like an angel, with her long, light brown hair and her sky-blue eyes.
The light at the ceiling made it appear as if she was an angel, and maybe that’s the reason why I remember the color of her eyes so well.
That picture of her is etched into my memory. Every time I hear her voice that is what I see in my head. And it’s not because I would have any feelings for her.
No.
I might have been confused it then. I won’t deny that. But I soon realized that she only did her job.
Valerie has the ability to make you feel important, safe and cared for. She can appear warm and sympathetic. In fact, she is the perfect physician. She makes you trust her, listen to her, and believe her.
Do you understand? What I am trying to say?
I cannot be sure that she is not entirely trustworthy. You will have to decide for yourself.
All I can say is that she is there for more than just a reason. They have other physicians. She is not the only one in here, but she’s the best.
I didn't know her name, and I had never seen her before, or who she was, then. My eyes caught her hand on my wrist, right next to the manacle, spreading strange warmth in my body. I was able to hear her unsteady breathing and how she eventually inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same.
At that time I hadn’t learned to differentiate between fear and nervousness so my eyes jumped back to her face, trying to read it. She was already looking at me, smiling warmly. I didn't know her name; yet there was something familiar about her. This confused me, fascinated me and made me trust her.
Now I know that my subconsciousness or the Beast in me remembered her from her visits.
“My name is Valerie Winters, I’m your physician”, she introduced herself with a steady voice, which was betrayed by her rapid heartbeat.
I wanted to believe my eyes, rather than my ears. And what I saw seemed to prove what she had said.
Valerie was wearing a doctor’s overall with a name tag and, in her other hand, what seemed to be my file.
When I wanted to answer, I was reminded that there was a tube in my throat, but she seemed to notice, gently squeezing my wrist, the corners of her mouth lifting a bit, expressing sympathy.
Even though it was real, it felt more like a nightmare.
All I had was my eyes following her, looking at her and it was astonishing to realize how much I could perceive with them.
Even more as I was able to switch off my other senses. Like how Valerie relaxed more and more the longer I stayed calm and focused on her, maybe too because my heart rate calmed down.
It was only her with me and she didn't look like she wanted to harm me.
Or was she that insanely good at faking it?
Could I have been so blind?
I had been in the past, in so many ways. I had focused on the wrong things in life and it all had led to this.
“I know you must have many questions”, she continued, her voice still calm and professional, giving me the illusion of safety.
I wanted to believe that everything was going to be okay, that my memories of Dr. Clay Severin offering me a deal with the devil was wrong, that they had brought me into a special hospital and managed to save me, that I would go home soon.
Home.
The thought of returning to my mother made me feel w
arm, turned me into a small boy again, who wasn’t ashamed to curl up into her embrace when it was time to read my favorite book for bedtime.
That’s how she makes you feel, but don’t forget: she’s still one of them, just like Peter. Even though his brother might not agree with that, but you’re not what other people think you are, no matter how hard they push you into that corner, you’re who you think you are, who you feel you are. And Peter thinks he belongs to them, though he also knows that he belongs to us.
Yet, for him it is possible to be on both sides, no matter how large the chasm.
I still wonder when this abyss will be too huge for him to reach both sides, if he will ever be able to reach for either of them when that time has come, or if it will simply swallow him, as it did me.
I just hope, when you wake up, that you will know the difference, unlike me. That you will remember that she’s part of the staff.
Valerie Winters may be kind and gentle, sympathetic, even, but in the end she’s been doing her job.
* * *
Sleep... there’s no way finding it. Not tonight, not when I know that tomorrow, they are going to wake you up. And I don’t even know if I will be there, when they do, or if I just get to see you being awake.
Maybe I could have asked White, but even if he had answered me, I still wouldn’t be sure that he had given me the right response.
I don’t even know if I want to be there.
I should, but even if I will be, you won’t see me.
How could you possibly know that I am there?
Day 132
I haven’t slept very much.
Actually, I fell asleep trying to write in my diary, to remember more of my time before the Beast took over. I wouldn’t be surprised to see that I left some drooling stains.
This is me trying to be funny. I can’t recall the last time when I did that: doing my best to cover up the wreck I am with making fun of myself.
Honestly, I haven’t felt that human for a long, long time, bleary-eyed, headache, and worn out, deadbeat.
I thought, being what I am, I would never have this ‘sensation’ ever again. It’s actually a welcome surprise. Because feeling like this, it’s hard to beat myself up with all the what-if’s that invaded my head yesterday, and it threatened to explode.
On the other hand, I can’t keep up with my daily schedule, which is weird, in a good way, but also should make me worry about what White and his minions might think about it. Then again: isn’t this human? And isn’t this what they want me to be?
I would probably have felt better if I had just worked out through the whole night. And I guess they would have preferred that as well.
They have to live with that. It’s not like I can turn back time. If I did, I would change a lot.
* * *
I didn’t imagine this to happen, how I would react, or that I would even be present when you wake up.
The last thing I expected was that I actually would be there. Maybe they didn’t think of it either. You cannot really predict when a person is waking up from a coma, can you? Can they?
Although I knew that today was the day, I really did estimate that when I would enter the monitoring room, I would see you being awake, maybe sitting on your bed, reading, or writing in your diary. But not still lying there, like you have done ever since I first stepped into that room.
I have to admit that I was irritated with Peter as the one to bring me to you again, with him accompanying me. Still, when I saw you still sleeping, all my surroundings faded away. As if a black hole swallowed absolutely everything around me, even Peter.
Seeing you not being awake paralyzed me, and confused me, because I knew that they meant to wake you up. And yet you were still lying there, soundly asleep. Knowing this, knowing that you were meant to wake up today excited me, in a way as if I was a little boy expecting to see Santa Clause himself at Christmas.
It didn’t trigger the Beast to come out.
Quite the contrary.
It felt as if it was crawling into my darkest corner, hiding in anticipation and fear, the very emotions I felt right then.
Because how could I know what would happen?
I found myself pressing my hands against the window, my nose being close to it, forgetting everything around me. Peter, where we were, what I was, all what might be and could be.
All I knew was that you were about to wake up, come to life again and I would be there to watch it, witness it.
A miracle itself.
But just as awe striking such things can be, they can be terrifying.
And I knew I wasn’t alone with this.
I don’t know for how long I stood there, waiting, anticipating for you to wake up.
Of course I didn’t expect you to open your eyes right away, but when you didn’t after some minutes and time steadily dripped on, I could feel hope and anticipation hollow out, like a steady drop a stone.
Where I had been excited and filled with light and warmth of whatever fire had slumbered inside me, I could feel it die out and myself starting to freeze. The realization that you might not wake up that day, while I was there, slowly crawled up through my bones into my brain.
As Valerie entered your room, I knew the time for me to leave was close and disappointment was a far too weak a word for the acidy and foul taste in my mouth.
But I couldn’t turn away, even though my jaw slumped to my chest when I pushed myself from the window, my fingers would not leave the now warm surface.
I heard it before I saw it and, although I know it’s not possible, I think I felt it even before my ears noticed the change of your pulse taped by the monitor.
My breath was caught in my throat. Maybe before, maybe after I heard what I heard, and I lifted my head in disbelief. I couldn’t trust my super-human senses, afraid of my imagination being stronger than that.
My eyes found yours at the very moment your lids flew open. It felt like an eon before you blinked, but you did and your heart rate sped up so fast I was afraid you would have a heart attack.
She was right there, placing her hand on your wrists, smiling down gently to you, reassuring, caring, doing her job, calming you down, steadying your breath and pulse, while mine went through the roof.
It should have been me standing by your side, being the one to calm you and giving you the feeling of safety, that everything would be alright, that no harm would come to you. And with my anger the Beast stirred. I only noticed when I sensed the resistance of the glass against the tips of my claws.
You didn’t speak.
You didn’t try to sit up.
You just stayed as you were, lying there in your bed.
You didn’t move. Apart from your chest heaving, there was not one single movement.
And it reminded me so terribly of how I had felt before I woke up changed: a prisoner in my own body, being fully aware, perceiving everything, and fully incapable of doing anything.
I felt as if I had been quick-frozen.
Terrified.
You didn’t move. You didn’t speak.
All I heard was your pulse, your breathing and Valerie whispering, but I could not hear her.
I knew right then and there that I have been wrong, wrong about Hell, about everything. Gladly, I would have endured the pain, the darkness, the paralysis again, over and over for all eternity now, rather than to stand there, so close and yet out of reach, without being able to help you, without being able to let you know that I was there.
Still, even though the Beast in me was roaring out the fury I felt, I was terrified by the idea to let it loose, to allow it to break free, so that I could be with you. Because what if you didn’t remember me, or even worse: remember only what I did to you? What if you weren’t ready, what if you were afraid that I had turned into that monster again, which had made you suffer and put you in this position in the first place? If I did that, would all those fears that had been haunting me for the last weeks come true?
I
couldn’t risk that.
It wasn’t Peter, who said my name, telling me that it was time to leave. It wasn’t White either. He hadn’t shown up. The hand that eventually was placed on my shoulder belonged to the guard that usually accompanied Peter.
I think you told me that you called that one Grey.
And as I turned around to him, he didn’t look concerned about how I might react, or scared for that matter. If I hadn’t known it any better, it looked like sympathy. But it was only in his eyes, the rest of his face was as expressionless as usual.
I might have been wrong.
There was no use in resistance. I knew that then as I know that now. Following the order to leave would make sure that I would see you again, tomorrow.
Hopefully.
* * *
As I came back from my coma, it wasn’t like I woke up and was nothing else but a Beast.
I didn’t wake up and was that creature you had to face all those months ago.
Waking up after all this time was painful. My whole body was one single ache and my head felt like I had downed a full barrel of whatever the night before. But I knew that I hadn’t, I remembered what had happened.
Sometimes I feel that the darkness I had been in still lingers inside of me, still haunts me, turning the Beast in me restless.
I was in pain, confused and frightened, when I woke up the first time, feeling much like a little child who had woken up and Valerie was there to give me comfort.
"You have been in a coma for almost four months”, she said to me on the second day.
I’m not really sure whether I lost consciousness right after the first time, or if I just can’t remember being awake any longer. However, looking back with the experience I have now, I’d say that they simply put me back to sleep, not wanting to risk anything.
Is that what they do to you?
They should have kept up being that careful.
The Beast In Me (The Beast And Me Book 2) Page 10
