DOOM SAGA I - I'll be home tomorrow

Unheard prayers

The Fortress

With trembling arms, she woke from her involuntary sleep. She inhaled deeply, her lungs filled to the brink but still, she felt like blacking out, no air arriving in her bloodstream. Her throat hurt but her leg had gotten better, the swelling reduced to a minimum. She peeked at the tablet and realized she had slept another two days. She bent over, resting her weight on her arms, trying to find oxygen. She swiped the screen and read that the air was fine to breathe. Her heart was beating quick and loud, roaring in her ears. She mumbled to herself, calming words, suffocating the panic. But she was no longer strong enough to withstand. She jumped up to get to the Slayer but her knees immediately buckled and her pale and cold feet couldn't hold her any longer. It was freezing in here all of a sudden, thinking she could see her breath soon. She pressed her hands to her chest, a weight made of lead was pushing on her lungs. She tasted blood and felt her swollen gums bleed. It hurt inside her. It hurt badly. She fainted.

Hours later she gained consciousness again. Every limb shook from exhaustion as she got up on her feet again. Only one thing was left on her mind. Step by step she pulled herself onwards, the wall supporting what she could no longer.  There he was, sitting on the floor in front of some weaponry. His bare hunch made him look big as a bear. She dragged her white benumbed feet over the metallic ground and limped into the mid of the hall as far as she felt safe, a couple of metres left between them.
Her jaw quivered when she did her best to form a sentence that made any sense.
"I need you, Slayer. I can't do this any longer...! I know you don't need me. I know I'm nothing to you. I know..."
Anger was boiling in her chest like a destructive fire, fighting with the cold in her limbs.
"BUT YOU NEED TO FUCKING ANSWER ME!", she screeched with all her power.
"Do you hear me?! All I want is to know if I will ever see my family again or if I can just give up at long last! And don't worry - if there's no way back you won't have to bear my existence any longer because I will finish it myself! Finish it all! Just like I did everything else! I can stand this life no more! Just make it end...! Please..."
Her voice broke. Her heart ached. Her body shuddered. He was still.
"I am dying."
She wept.
"Help me. Please... help me... I'm dying... help me..." Snot ran from her nose as she cried bitterly. Her body rocketed but his form still didn't move.

"I'm-" her sobs changed into short gasps for air. He thought a knife stabbed right through his chest, but as he looked down there was no wound. The knife was turned, pain speeding through his left arm and back, and when he heard the dull THUD of her body he turned. Only a moment later he was at her side. She wrestled on the floor, her head thrown back and her mouth wide open to a suffocated scream. He felt below her chin, where a dark shadow of his hand gathered purplish stains, and confusion became clarity when her faltering puls rushed under his fingers. His own chest was still throbbing in pain.
After all that had happened, he suddenly understood. He picked her up and ran as quickly as possible, cursing the web that formed the centre of the Fortress that was stealing important time. He threw a blanket to the ground and laid her on it, snatching the defib buried in one of the cluttered corners. She was cramping and couldn't breathe, a stifled moan was all he could hear from her. When he ripped her shirt up to uncover her ribs he froze, staring at the void her belly was. There was nothing left between her ribcage and her hips, her breasts were flattened like a boy's and showed the demon-like bones beneath. For a moment, the blueish-green of her veins shining through grey, paper-like skin caught his attention. The recognition of what he had done made him retch. One patch on the lower left rib, one on her right upper chest, or rather shoulder, since her body was so small, the patches bigger than her hands. He knew he should do resuscitation, but seeing how weak she was he would only do more harm than good. She was still conscious somehow, her eyes trying to look at him while her eyelids fluttered from shock after shock. But she lost the fight before it was over, her heart was beating in rhythm after all, though strenuous. Only now he let go of a long-held breath, falling back, knees to his chest and his finger curling into his hair, pulling angrily. He gnashed his teeth as his eyes welled up.

She had found him, awakened him, went through unimaginable misery to do so, had even BEGGED him for help, and yet he hadn't listened. An innocent girl had nearly died - no... she was dying in his arms right now.
He held her frail body sitting on the bed. She was cleaned and her limbs were much warmer after the hot bath he had given her. Cradling her in a warm blanket, naked underneath, since all clothes and towels were dirty or bloodied. He watched her eyes twitch now and then, so slowly, watched her still continue to fight even after what she'd said before. She seemed tiny in his arms, enough to make her look like a child, and made him question how young she was anyway. He knew next to nothing about her, he realized, everything that had occurred on the ship but not about her per se. Not even her name...
He could read in that notebook of hers, even opened it on a random page in the middle, reading notes that made no sense but also lines about what she felt, thought, wished. He had closed it as quickly as he had taken it. He would not read a girls diary just to find out more about her. When the time had come that she was healthier again he was sure she would tell him all he needed to know. She had trusted in him, now it was time to trust in her. Even if it meant believing in the unbelievable.
He had done his best with her wounds that wouldn't heal normally. Scrapes, cuts and bruises, as well as the multiple itches that scattered her body wherever it had found something to feed on.
Food. He would need more than they had left on board. But he couldn't leave her until she was breathing without any complications, her body simply stopping from time to time so he had to gently shake her.
He reached for the protein bar that lay to his right and took a small bite from it, chewing it thoroughly. His stomach rumbled but he ignored his own hunger. His thumb held her chin open for him to feed it directly to her, and after some long moments the taste awakened her senses and he helped her swallow by softly rubbing her throat. She squirmed, pressing her face into him for a moment, probably the pain from her swollen larynx. He gave another two bites to her, not even half of the bar, but an empty stomach was easy to upset. It would take some time until her body understood that there were enough calories coming in again, proteins were the most important in the beginning to save her brain and organs from further deteriorating. He would have to feed her a little every couple of hours to give her body time to react and digest. Some sips of water from an old mug washed everything down and he felt her exhaustion already. Or was it his own? He tugged her closer, skin to skin, giving this frail little thing as much warmth as he could offer. Managing into a state of light sleep he rested, ready to react to the alarm of the monitoring bracelet that was around her thigh, as her arms were too thin for it to hold.
This wasn't a dream or hocus-pocus of the Makyrs, and if it was a nightmare, then it would be not his but hers. He had faltered, lost control. Hurt an innocent being because his corrupted feelings had decided for him. He could not let something like this happen again. He felt filthy, like an abominable piece of what he hated the most was stuck inside him.
Io.
That was her name. It sounded beautiful in his head. Those two simple vowels were able to calm the dark storm in his mind, the voice tormenting him shushed at last.