Whispers at Witching Hour

Chapter 59 (Part III)

Part 3 | Musical inspiration: My Body Is A Cage – Peter Gabriel

Zelda was anything but asleep when Lilith put out the fire; in fact, she was pretending to be, so she would not have to talk to Lilith. Now, she was staring at the ceiling, drilling holes in it while the demoness was sleeping peacefully in her arms, emitting soft snores in a regular pattern.

She tentatively pulled her arm out from underneath the brunette and removed her from her chest to lower her onto the mattress. Sitting up, she took a last glance over her shoulder to the utterly adorable looking demoness. She could not locate her clothes in the darkness, still naked, sitting on the bedside with her arms protectively wrapped around her own body, letting her head hang.

Zelda got up quietly and vanished to the bathroom, locking the door behind her with a clack, ignoring the darkness. Just when she was alone for the first time this evening, all the things she had pushed to the back of her mind resurfaced and swirled around her, making her dizzy and nauseous. She stumbled to the toilet, opened the lid and threw up violently.

Immediately after her stomach had stopped turning and rebelling, she grabbed a towel to cover herself, stepped into the shower, turned it on and leaned against the wall while the water was running down her body, soaking the towel as well.

Her head collided with the hard stone behind her as she covered her mouth in case the shower running would not be enough to hide the muffled whimpers passing her lips. She directed her gaze upwards, eyelids fluttering in an attempt to hold back the tears.

Zelda felt like she was having a déjà-vu: crying in a dark bathroom while the person she had had sex with was sleeping in the adjoining room. Her hands clutched the wet towel around her body as the memories were flashing before her eyes. His evil eyes rimmed with black eyeliner, the white blades that were his nails, the crack in the wall.

Her hand automatically reached down between her legs, followed by her gaze, to check for bleeding while she was sliding down the wall until she came to sit on the shower floor, tears flowing freely. The water kept crashing down on her, drenching her hair, smearing the leftovers of her make up everywhere as Zelda ran her hand up and down over and over again, rubbing the inside of her thigh.

I'm bleeding. Shit! I'm bleeding again!

For minutes she tried to wash the crimson stains off her thighs just like that first night at the Vatican Necropolis, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, they would not go away. Exactly like back then. Her sobs intensified with every wiping motion, slowly but steadily turning her into a shaking mess.

~

Lilith was woken up by a distinct itch on one of her breasts, scratching it sleepily as she squeezed her eyes shut before opening them slowly. She had slept so tight, and it was not even morning; it made her wonder what had woken her. Sitting up in the bed, she noticed she was still rubbing the itchy spot when she realised which spot that was. Her mark.

Her hands groped the sheets nervously, searching for Zelda but she was gone. She tried to sharpen her senses and lift the veil of sleep and dreams that was still confusing her. Listening closer, she heard the shower running in the bathroom. Why was Zelda taking a shower in the middle of the night?

Lilith grabbed Zelda's robe she randomly found, strode to the bathroom door and was about to knock but stopped mid-motion to press her ear against the door instead. It was an impulsive decision – thanks again, minion – rooted in the knowledge that something must be going on if the mark was reactive.

She could not hear much due to the noisy shower but maybe this was just the point. What is she hiding? A cold shiver ran down her spine, either from her light clothing or the concern about Zelda. Listening more closely she was almost sure she could hear muffled sobs through the sound of the water and gasped.