Nameless Ghoul

Sunshine

Itzal couldn’t believe he’d been so fucking stupid, leaving himself out in the open like that and being recognised as a ghoul by a Clergy ghuleh. He growled at himself as he strode back down the alleyway he’d smoked in earlier, putting swift distance between himself and the venue. He tried to calm himself so as not to attract the attention of Santos, who could feel his strong emotional responses through their bond, but he knew it was already too late.

The whole thing had been a complete and utter fuck up.

The familiar sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he thought about what was to come later that night when Santos found out what had happened. His skin suddenly felt too tight across his bones and he swore he could feel the old scars on his back stinging already in anticipation of the consequences of Santos’ lost temper. He stopped at the other end of the alley and rested his forehead against a cool concrete wall. He tried his best to steady his breathing and reached within to find the cool numbness that he always used to shield himself from the worst of it. His heart was racing and his palms were clammy as he felt the familiar panic attack creeping up on him, and for the second time that night, he lost his focus and lost track of his surroundings.

“Hey,” said a small, female voice. Itzal whipped his head around and jumped back as he stared into the violet eyes of the ghuleh from the Ghost Project. She held out her delicate hands with one palm out in a gesture of peace, as if she were coaxing a wounded animal. The other was still clutching the rose from her admirer. “Are you okay?”

Itzal stared at her, dumbfounded. He was usually a ghoul of few words, but his mouth opened and closed several times before he could form anything that even came close to making sense.

“Fuck! Ugh, yes, I think so? For fuck’s sake!” he said, as he shook his head and laughed a humourless laugh. He felt his cheeks burning. Wow, that was the most he’d said in weeks, and what a fucking wordsmith he was!

She tilted her head as she regarded him, and a smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

“Well, okay then. I knew I didn’t recognise you. I felt you while we were playing, but I couldn’t see you and I just figured it was the atmosphere of the crowd. I thought maybe I'd imagined it. They were great tonight.”

She took another step towards him and reached out as if to touch his face, but he moved away from her. A frown furrowed his brow. He needed to get away before Santos came and found him. Itzal knew exactly what would happen if anyone saw him with a Clergy ghoul or ghuleh and it would not be pretty. He really didn’t want to have to kill one of his own kind, but there would be nothing he could do if Santos commanded it of him.

“Look, I need to go... I can’t be here,” he said, and her eyes dropped to the black metal collar around the base of his neck.

The etched symbols glinted in the pale streetlights. She must have heard the panic in his voice because she dropped her hand and slowly reached into her jeans pocket, pulling out a small card and holding it out for him to take. He eyed it suspiciously, but quickly snatched it and stepped back again out of arm’s reach.

She frowned and sighed.

“I feel you might need us, and my gut feelings are never wrong. Please call if you need a friend, any time, day or night. Just ask for Sunshine.”

And with that, she turned away and walked back down the alleyway towards the concert hall.

He watched her disappear back across the street, making sure she made it back inside safely, then he turned and ran. He had another hour before he needed to be back at the old church that Santos had converted for them to use. After the night he’d had, he needed to do something that he always turned to when he needed to, and could, vent. He might as well make the most of it while he was still pain free and go for a run.

He ran in a seemingly aimless direction, letting his feet carry him through the rain-soaked streets while his mind wandered. He avoided thinking about what waited for him when he returned to the church. It didn't seem like long though before he ended up at the end of the road on the outskirts of the city. His lungs felt the sweet burn of exertion and the endorphins made him feel alive for a final few moments. He caught sight of the dimly lit windows of the church and his heart sank. It was almost midnight by then, and Santos would almost be done with a midnight mass for the devoted followers who had crossed the ocean to dedicate their lives to him and his cause.

Itzal crossed the threshold of the doorway just before the bells chimed twelve o’clock and felt the wards tickling his skin as they notified the demonic preacher of his return. Quickly and silently, he sat down on a pew in the back. He hoped to go unnoticed as he entered, but as he looked up, Santos locked eyes with him in a black gaze. He narrowed it briefly before continuing on with his sermon.

All too soon, the congregation was filing out, and Itzal was alone in the chapel with Santos. He stood up, took a deep breath and sighed it out before walking down the aisle towards him. Santos stepped down from his pedestal to meet him.

“What the fuck happened tonight, ghoul? I gave you one simple job and it seems you have failed to gather the information I required. I felt your panic earlier, which I found concerning. Explain.”

If he could have, Itzal would have lied, which could have saved him a few hours of pain. But lying was a luxury that the bond denied him. It was pointless, as Santos would instantly know. Over the years, though, he'd realised that he could omit certain things and occasionally get away with it. Tonight, he opted to go for half truths. He recounted what had happened, sticking to the facts and leaving out his emotional responses. He mentioned the ghuleh had seen him and how he had fled, but he made sure that he left out the conversation they’d had afterwards and skipped straight to the running part.

There were a couple of beats of silence as Santos studied him and held his gaze as if waiting for more. Itzal’s stomach dropped as he felt his control slip away to be replaced with that of his master.