The Angel, the Vampire, and the Demon

Chapter Nine- Fever

When Abrariel woke up, the sun was well below the clouds. He was late this time, he looked down at his belly. "Make up your mind, will you?" He muttered.

He slipped out of bed feeling a bit better than he had yesterday, but he was more starving than normal. Clearly, the baby had a bottomless pit for a stomach. Sighing, Abrariel headed down the dark hallway to the kitchen, moonlight filled the room through the open window making everything their own shades of silver. He hadn't passed Raziel or Telantes on his way down, so Abrariel guessed they were asleep.

There was hardly a sound in the quiet air, just the wheat blowing gently in the wind, and the very faint sounds of animals. He opened the fridge and grabbed the next bottle in line, he took the lid off the top.

Huh, that was easier than normal... He thought but brushed it off as the butcher being lazy. He started drinking, closing his eyes as he filled his empty stomach.

He was about halfway through when a sharp, throbbing pain went through his body, like a sharp knife being driven down from his head to his toes.

Abrariel gasped and dropped the bottle, it landed on the floor with a loud crash, spilling blood all over the tiles. He gripped the edge of the bench, wrapping an arm around his stomach where the pain seemed to throb. His legs gave way under him, and he fell to the floor where he curled up in agony. His head hurt so much; his stomach hurt. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong!

He tried to pull himself away from the blood and glass he had landed in, the shards tearing through his hoodie as the blood soaked through the fabric, but found he had no strength. He was shaking, though he didn't know why.

"FATHER!!" He screamed, his voice cracking from fear and pain, "Father! Raziel! Pleas—" He broke off as he threw up from the pain, his head was pounding, and he curled up tighter. What was happening to him?

Abrariel heard running footsteps coming down the hall and he turned his head to look towards the door. Raziel came rushing in looking scared and worried, when he saw him, his eyes widened in panic.

"Abrariel!"

He rushed to him and bent down, lifting Abrariel up. He rested a hand on his forehead, drawing it back with a sharp gasp of shock. "I will call an ambulance, you're going to be ok," he took Abrariel's now much paler hand, "hang in there, please..."

Abrariel's world faded to a thick, inky darkness, his pain gone. He didn't know how long he was unconscious before everything was thrown back at him like a freight train, making him cry out and open his eyes wide. He tried to roll over, but a gentle hand on his chest stopped him from moving.

"Easy, Abrariel, easy, you're ok, you're going to be ok."

It was Raziel's voice. Abrariel turned. Raziel looked as calm and panicked as he sounded, his eyes full of concern and his long silver hair a tangled mess.

Abrariel looked around the bright room he was in. He was lying on a white hospital bed, covers pulled up to his chest, he could see his clothes, torn and bloodstained, hanging on a wall. He noticed he was hooked up to a few devices, monitoring brainwaves and his blood pressure, along with a drip full of blood that kept him from feeling the worst of the hunger pangs.

The whole room was pure white, the curtains drawn shut to keep out the morning sunlight. The only things missing, that he could see, were a heart monitor and an oxygen mask, which he guessed was understandable. They would have no use for him.

"H-how long was I out for?" Abrariel croaked as he turned back to Raziel who had taken his hand gently.

"All night. You have been poisoned. Ruin Fever. I was so worried! The doctors couldn't tell me if you were dead or alive!" Raziel explained, giving Abrariel's hand a tender squeeze.