The Insatiable Curse - Tom Holland

PART III

"[ ]... of the satanic thistle that raises its horned symmetry...[he's left with] frightened, aging, nagging flesh." -Allen Ginsberg

Reader's Discretion is Advised. Mature Content.

Tom made his way to the car and started driving to the nearest hospital. After he found parking, he checked his watch and noticed he had a heart monitor app on it. I mean, if he really was dead, which he thought more than highly unlikely, he could always check his heart rate on the watch.

He opened it and it didn't seem to be reading anything. "Load already, dumb thing." It still sat at zero, with a nice little "please have watch over your wrist to check pulse" notification mocking him. He fidgeted trying to change positions around his wrist with it, switched to his other wrist, as he was having no luck finding his own pulse with his hands on his neck.

There's no way I'm dead. Undead? There's just no way. He concluded that his watch must be faulty and he just couldn't find his pressure point. Breath. He pulled down the mirror in his seat and choked at the sight. I mean, he was there, but his whole face was distorted, moving in waves, unable to catch any real features of himself. The blob of white shifted with his movement, and no notable feature could stay in one spot.

"What the FUCK?!" He snapped the driver's mirror on the sun visor back up and tried to keep calm. "I- I don't remember... taking anything?" He was mumbling to himself now. Panic was ensuing. Internal monologues of endless questions and concerns swarmed him. Now, the question wasn't whether or not the dream was real.

The question was rather: what the fuck am I?

He didn't want to enter the hospital doors anymore, even if that seemed like the logical solution. The last thing he wanted was to give a doctor a stroke on his rounds and end up a test subject for some new undiscovered case of zombification. But, that did bring him much more concern.

Am I going to rot? Oh god, am I going to rot?

He put on sunglasses in one of the cup holders. The newfound revelation was making his head hurt, and the sun was getting brighter and more irritating to the eyes. "Well this feels like a shit hangover." Good thing he was sober again to be able to tell that was another symptom atop everything else.

Now wasn't the time to panic, now was the time to make sure everyone else in his life didn't panic. He had to convince everyone he was well. So, first stop, Boots Pharmacy to pick up some bandages and alcohol wipes. Maybe some ibuprofen for his newfound headache.

As he kept driving to Boots, he noticed the flakiness and sensitivity of his skin after moving from the shelter of the parking garage shade. I guess I'll need some SPF lotion too. Fucking hell. Oh god, I'm probably already rotting away. Breathe. Deep breaths. After what felt like an eternity of stinging skin from the daylight and paired eye sensitivity, he thought he'd finally get some peace once inside.

He did not.

He was uncomfortable with the amount of people there. They all gave him strange looks but he just tried to hide behind his sunglasses and his hat. He grabbed what he needed and didn't even try to look the cashier in his eyes. He couldn't focus on what the cashier was saying- everyone's overlapping heart beats were tearing his social capabilities apart.

"Sorry, what was the total?"

"That'll be 29.50, sir." Despite how muffled the voice was from his own heartbeat, he still caught it and put the cash on the counter. Once he got his change, he practically raced out of there to his car. He was sure that onlookers would think he was on route to urgent care, or hopefully a doctor.

Once seated, lotion was thoroughly applied and gave some relief. He cleaned up his wound and put gauze over the wound, wrapping it securely with an ace bandage around his neck. "That should do." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Zendaya. She didn't pick up. Weird. He tried Haz this time and he picked up after the second ring.

"Hey, just got out. Said I had low blood pressure and cleaned up my wound. Luckily it wasn't infected or anything. I'll be back soon. Is Zendaya ok?"

Haz sighed. "She left."

"She what?"

"She said she needed time with friends here and wanted to go back to see her family afterwards. She said she texted you and packed some things. You scared her, bad, Tom. She kept saying you were dead. Can you hurry back and explain to me what's going on here? Please? I- I'm really lost, mate."

"I... she left?"

"Please just come back and help me understand what happened. And- drive safe." The line went dead and Tom groaned, throwing his phone on the passenger seat... holding back tears that he couldn't produce. All he could feel was the burning of where tears were supposed to fall.

***

Haz sat across Tom at the small dining table. There was a longer silence than either felt comfortable with. "Are you okay, Tom? They- they really said nothing was wrong? You still look really pale..." he reached over and looked at his friend's hand. His fingernails were slightly purple, just as his lips, and his fingers were ice cold. "Do you feel alright?"

"I mean, I've got bad headache but... but I'm fine y'know, you don't need to worry so much-"

"Yes, I do!" Harrison didn't intend it, but his words came out harsh. "I mean, look at you. You're clearly very sick. Did they have a blind doctor helping you there? Jesus."

"Thanks for making me feel better about the fact that I'm fucking dead and I didn't go because I don't want to be a fucking lab rat! Okay? I'm dead. I'm undead. Whatever. I don't know! My head hurts, my heart's stopped, my face morphs like some faceless creature in the mirror, and people's heart beats are so loud it sounds like drums. I'm a fucking monster and I should be in a body bag by now!" He was trying to cry, but his body couldn't. His hands went limp after his spiel had left his head against the table.

No response. No nothing for a good while, until he felt Haz hold his hand. "Help me," Tom whispered, voice cracking in pain and anger. The warmth from his hand was something he didn't realize he needed. Haz's heartbeat was quicker, quicker, then slowly came back down when he pulled Tom out of the chair and held him in his arms.

The warmth of the hug momentarily calmed the loud loud banging of his heart. 

Tom's uneven breathe slowly calmed and his head was wedged in the crook of Haz's neck. "My throat's... dry, and I feel... dizzy," Tom whispered into his friend's turtle neck.

"S-sit down. I'll get you water, mate," Haz spoke and Tom stumbled a bit, "let me help," he was gently brought down to the ground to have a seat.

Tom drank the water, but he was still thirsty. His throat still felt dry. His headache worsened and he gagged. Haz rushed and got a trash bag. Water and contents of last night's dinner left him.

"I... I think we should head back to the hospital. Maybe talk to Maude about some things."

"I... can't-" Tom coughed. Haz pointed to the water and Tom rinsed his mouth out. He really didn't want to drink more and risk vomiting it right back up. "AaArgh! Shit!" His gums were killing him. More pain he didn't want to have to handle. He had been through so much of it- yet here it was again. He pressed his hand over his mouth.

He held tight as he muffled the screams of agony. Harrison didn't know what to do- every bone in his body was telling him to call the ambulance and help his best friend get the medical care he desperately needed. But, his friend did look, well, dead. He took the matter in his own hands and held Tom's wrist, checking for a pulse.

Nothing. He grabbed the other one. Nothing at all.

"A-already tried- thah'" Another muffled scream and labored pants came from Tom. Haz held Tom's jaw in his hand firmly.

"Open your mouth." Tom complied. He could see bumps on his gums, red and irritated, lining each tooth below it. Curiosity got the best of him and he pressed on one; much to Tom's dismay. A long sharp tooth poked out like a cat's claw. He let go and jumped back with a small yelp. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy fuckin'-"

"What?!" Tom asked as the pain started to subside.

"Tom... do you- do you believe in Vampires, you think?"