Amaranthine: Descent | WinTeam | Boyslove

The Nightmare Returns

Strong arms propelled Win forward, breaths following his strokes as his body sliced through the water like a knife. There was a peace in between the measured inhales and cadence of his strokes. Despite the concentration needed to ensure perfect form, his mind shut off, yielding to the routine.

Such a brightly lit area should have been safe.

Struck from above, water sped down Win's throat, rhythm lost. Air knocked from his lungs as something dark tumbled along with him. Screaming for oxygen, coughs to clear the water only served to draw more inside. The burn of the chlorine warred with panic as he bucked underwater. Win couldn't cry out as his muscles strained against a harsh new angle, his head jerking to the side. What precious little air remained streamed past Win's darkening lips as the skin of his neck flayed. Vision dimming, eddies of crimson whirled in front of his eyes.

A shock of cold air hit Win's face as he choked the water out, reigniting his agony. Win writhed on his side, his jaws clenched past the pain for all the good it did. A grimy hand clamped over his mouth and dragged him backward. Weakly kicking, Win knew he had to fight, but the thing carried him as if he weighed nothing, immune to his defiance. Immobilized, teeth tore into Win's shoulder, the monster's flesh swallowing his scream. Win's consciousness stuttered, blood loss and trauma causing his brain to flicker like a dying bulb. Thoughts and memories of his family haunted him between the glimmers of darkness.

Win's awareness flared as an alien coolness departed his lips. A syrupy feeling clung to the back of his tongue, coating his mouth. He gulped hard and gasped for air, lungs pumping in a rapid, frenzied staccato. He couldn't move, shock distorting his perception as the grave nature of his wounds sank in. Death lingered on the periphery, watching for its opportunity as his veins coursed with acid fear. In spite of the heat and the evening's balmy breezes, his skin chilled, heartbeats erratic and fading. Through glassy, hazed eyes, Win glimpsed the shambling creature coming to finish the job.

Failing nerves didn't register the kick to his ribs that tumbled him into the pool. The water met no resistance as Win let go, sinking into the abyss.

Win sat bolt upright, chest constricting and coughing past phantom water as the nightmare reared its ugly head. He wrung his hands through his hair. The violation of those clawing hands felt fresh. And like he would never be free of them. Win gasped past the stench of the fetid rags covering the Other, his nose stinging as the air in Ari's bedroom turned thick. The thing's blood was inside him. Win's skin crawled with the truth of whose blood it was that reanimated him.

Ari roused awake from Win's hysteric and ragged breathing as he rode the bone-deep torment made worse by vampire emotions. She rubbed soothing circles onto his back, pulling him close.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. You're okay, Win. You're safe. It can't hurt you." She reassured him as she had countless times before, though Win's dreams never heeded what she said. He hiccuped and turned into her embrace, seeking comfort.

"Why won't they stop? Why?" Win pleaded, a quaver in his voice.

"I don't know, baby. I don't know." She rocked him as his breathing returned to its usual steady pace.

Win sniffled as Ari ushered him back under the blankets of her bed. She stroked his cheek, her own thoughts pulling her down. Win's suffering was her fault and her heart broke anew with each nightmare. Every idea they suggested fell flat. Win nestled close to her neck, her fading perfume a balm to him. She shifted closer and tilted her chin to allow him access.

"Go ahead," she said, twining her fingers in his hair. Only one thing had ever worked.

Ari lay staring up at the ceiling as Win's fangs slid into her. She continued twirling circles into his hair as he drank, willing the essence of calm into her blood. The compulsion unique to her bloodline, a power she swore never to abuse—as she was abused—flowed into Win. She couldn't erase her mistake or Win's death, but she could ease his pain.

From the night she and Sert had taken him in, she offered him her blood; it wasn't a night easily forgotten.

Sert had messaged her from the ambulance during his shift. Dispatch had sent them to a local university to retrieve the body of a drowned student, except Sert recognized the deceased to be in transition. And he misjudged by how long. Mere minutes after Ari had arrived, she and Sert heard a scream coming from the morgue. After swiping his access badge, they froze, taking in the scene before them. Sert's coworker lay dead, the scream not belonging to her. Pressed against the morgue racking, sat a panic-stricken Win kicking his feet away from the dead morgue attendant in front of him. Blood stained his chin and cheeks, extending to his hands and chest where he'd held onto the woman as he fed. More pooled on the floor.

Win had looked up at her, trembling hands framing his horrified face. "H-Help. Help me." His shock-blown gaze had darted around the room before settling on the woman, his eyes squeezing tightly shut as his hyperventilation resumed. "I-I-I... I don't—"

"Go. Get him the fuck out of here so I can clean up his mess." Sert had intervened then, placing a sheet over the body of his dead colleague. The harshness of his expression said what his words didn't: "Clean up your mess."

Ari's blood kept Win from losing his mind over what he had done, returning to himself an effort. He struggled with acceptance of the truth and befriending these strangers regardless of their help. Faced with the loss of everything he had known weighed so heavily, Ari feared it would destroy him, blood or not. She remembered Sert dragging him back, contempt shining in his eyes as he held a fistful of Win's collar. She had asked him to follow Win lest the latter's turbulent emotions pushed him to do something reckless. Sert had intercepted him when he was dangerously close to revealing himself to his younger brother, Wiew. She knew that was when Win surrendered to his new reality and stopped fighting it. Hauling him away from his younger brother had fractured him, the final thread of resistance snapping.

Tranquility displaced the lingering misery of Win's night terror, the promise of a dreamless sleep tugging at him. He tipped Ari's face towards him, gently kissing her. A "thank you" for his moment of peace in the dark. He had caught her studying the ceiling again, deep in her thoughts. He settled down beside her, a cottony softness filling his body as he slung an arm over her waist. Win knew nothing of the one who killed him remained inside, logically speaking. Ari's blood had chased it away and fortified his strength, but it never made sense to him why it happened to begin with. Why turn a victim you brutally attacked? Crazed with a perverted sense of humor? Ulterior motive?

Win didn't know, and it terrified him.