"You would think after the tenth one she would stop." Blanton stares down at me as I furiously sketch away on the paper. I had been here since we got back, and I haven't stopped, not even to eat or sleep.
Sheets, and sheets of sketch paper piled around me, faces on all of them, all faces I've seen but none of them Durroe's. I saw him, I know I did! I saw his face! I know I did!
"She's been like this since we left the hospital." Juni whispers softly.
Sitting in front of the wall length painting, crouched over the sketch book as the pencil speedily moves over the page. Forcing the pencil this way and that, capturing every detail of every pore to perfection, until I stared at the paper to find the person I drew, ignites nothing else than a face of fear.
I'm drawing the victims, but not Durroe.
"Elias?" Juni calls me name from the other side of the room. "El? Do you wanna eat some-" he gasps.
His sentence cut off by the furious ripping of another paper as I toss it to the side. Blanton walks over picking up the paper I discarded, noticing the expressions of each person, he knew what I was drawing.
"If you keep going at this rate, you'll fill the whole room with these faces. This is not how they would want to be remembered." Blanton speaks softly, but I can't stop my hands, smearing lead across the page as I try to get the hollow to their cheeks just right. It's madness, obsession. This very scene could be painted as one of insanity.
Another page gone, flying in his direction landing only an inch from his fingers.
Durroe, Durroe...
Someone knocks on my door and Juni goes to let them in. In comes Sam, placing some bags on the table before seeing me kneeling on the floor. "Woah, what's with all the paper? Why is-" he bends down to pick one up, staring at it as the question falls from his lips. His face turning to one of sorrow the longer he stared at the page.
"She's looking for someone named Durroe." Juni says. "She's been like this since we left the ward. If you think this is bad, you should still see the two boxes of paper that the doctor still has."
"Have you tried getting her to stop? Wait, do we even know a Durroe?" Sam asks confused as he looks down to Blanton.
"She said she saw his face, but she only saw it for a second before he ran." Juni explains.
"Why did he run?"
"Kendric found her." Blanton says all the while watching me rip page after page. I pause, groaning as I bend down, head to the floor as I run the scene over in my head.
It was nighttime, there was smoke everywhere, but there's still people running.
My fingers clawing at the floor as I bang my head on the floor, Blanton touches my shoulder, a push. Relax, focus, comeback.
I ignore him, focused on the memory.
I stab Avis in the stomach as he's over me, like those horror movies with villain in the mask. He falls and I yank the knife from his stomach, using the whole force of my body for the next wound, knocking him on his back. Avis was still screaming, I had to make him stop. I raise the knife,
"Durroe! Durroe!"
And a slice across his neck easily silences him. The blood sprays across my whole face and neck. Blanton ever so silently, perfectly practiced, sits in the background of the scene. I can feel the disgust and terror seeping from him.
"Your shouldn't be thinking of this Elias." He says lowly gripping my shoulder now, as I pound my fist on the floor trying to remember the next few seconds.
YOU ARE READING
Grave Digger
WerewolfElias spent years as a grave digger putting loved ones to rest. It's the only thing she's ever known ever since she was a kid. Over the years she's learned about other people's grief, their pain, how six feet can seem so far away for so many people...
