Sinner

Part 7 Normality

The bright light of the morning shines onto my lids and wakes me up. Never have I been so grateful and glad to see sunlight. Lethargic, I nervously crack an eye to observe my room before opening them fully. I am half-afraid to find new paranormal beings which have stealthily sneaked into my room in the course of my fitful and restless sleep.

Last night, after removing my chains, Keenan did some sort of exorcism or psychic mumbo jumbo. He mumbled some verses while walking and sprinkling something around the far edges of my room. Once he finished a round of my room, he pronounced it safe for sleeping before leaving. Although he seems confident he has taken care of the problem, his actions didn't pacify me. Not one bit. My heart still racing over the fright, I tossed and turned. My eyes keep darting around the room, jumping at every sound and slight movement of the shadows. The house must be very old, creepy creaking sounds were continuously heard as the frame and structure of the house settle down in the night.

Unable to go into sleep, I hurry to the windows. Keenan has said it's safe to leave it open for ventilation and to let the stench dissipate, I didn't entirely believe him. Afraid of a second encounter with an unwelcome night visitor from the nether realm, I shut the window tightly. Checking it twice and thrice to ensure no scary beings can get in. Then hastily diving deep under my covers, I keep a watchful eye over my room. After what seemed like hours, when nothing else happened, exhaustion finally took over. Eyelids laden with weight, they closed and I fell into sleep.

Now, with the sunlight streaming generously into the room and lighting every corner of the room brightly, I sweep my gaze around. Satisfied nothing's amiss in the room; I fling off the covers and push my legs off the edge of the bed.

Rummaging through the dresser, I can't find anything to look myself in. Sweeping up the mirror and the glass shards, Keenan had removed it from my room last night. Apparently the ley lines made the mirror into a portal from which the netherworld Others can crawl through. Anxious to get the object out of my sight, I was infinitely relieved when Keenan took it out of the room.

Now I have a problem, I can't check how I look. I must look a scary sight. My unruly bed hair should be sticking out from all corners, making me look like a woman from Bedlam. Without sufficient sleep, my dark eye bags will be protruding and pronounced. Dried flakes of blood and scabs cling around my wrists and ankles where I rubbed it raw yesterday while trying to escape the ghoul. Fortunately they don't hurt as much as the wounds on my back. Bruises I hadn't known I have on my arms and legs exploded in a riot of vibrant colors – black, blue, purple, red and all shades in-between. All in all, I guess I resemble a zombie right now. Minus the sunken cheeks and eye sockets that I suspect I'm sporting right now but can't see because I don't have a mirror.

I comb through my tangled hair with my fingers while walking to the windows. Taking a deep breath, I raise my face to the sunshine, enjoying the warmth. So much has happened in a few days. I feel like Alice when she accidentally stumbled into Wonderland.

Admiring the scenery, I realize we're really out in the boondocks. There's no smoke or any signs of civilization as far as I can see. The house is surrounded by thick forests. Idly, I watch a few rabbits hop across a vegetable patch and nibble at some plants. A spotted deer wanders in from the edge of the forest before pricking its ears in attention and taking off in a flurry at some unheard sound. It is peaceful here...except for the unwanted visitors from the other realm.

A knock sounds on the door but when no one enters, I clutch the bedsheet tighter around me and open the door. A set of clothes hovers in the air. It must be Mary the poltergeist. Not sure where to look at, I look at the general direction of where Mary should be and mumble my thanks. Accepting the clothes, I close the door and put on my clothes. My back hurts as I pull on the loose top. The cloth fabric catches onto some of my scabs and scrape my wounds. Hissing in pain, I grit my teeth and slowly button.

After I'm dressed, I exit my room and follow the scent of food down to the dining room.

"How are you feeling today?" Keenan asks warmly, seated at the table with food piled high on his plate. I absently noted it consists of meat and more meat, definitely no vegetables or fruits. He's a guaranteed carnivore, not an omnivore. No vegetables for this guy. Won't he suffer from constipation from all that meat and no fiber?

"I'm fine, thanks. So what are we going to be doing today?" I enquire while reaching for the fruits. After taking a bite from an apple, I scrunch my nose and put it aside. And start piling meat on a plate.

Before I realize what I'm doing, my plate looks like Keenan's and I'm shoveling all that protein into my mouth. But the meat doesn't seem to be enough. I begin to take more, going for second and third helpings...all of them meat. Strange, I love vegetables and seldom eat meat. It must be the huge loss of blood making me crave for protein and iron. My body feels fine, except for a few twinges from my back injuries. The craving for meat must be my body's way of telling me I need it for recuperating. Brushing the thought aside, I continue chewing on my meat.

Keenan takes a huge bite of his meat before glancing at me and reply, "We'll take it easy today. I'll take you on a grand tour of this house and fill you in on the house rules. We'll start after breakfast".

"Sounds good," I comment, polishing up the last of my meal. "I'm done. Ready when you are".

Taking a last bite, Keenan puts aside his plate and stands beside me. Bowing slightly, he extends his arm to me, "Your wish is my command, mademoiselle".

Keenan makes an interesting guide, tossing interesting titbits of history and information of the house as enter each room.

"...So who does the dishes here?" I gesture at the squeaky clean kitchen, "You?"

He gives a bark of laughter, "No, not me. The dishes will all be broken in record time if I were to be put in charge of washing them. Remember, this house lies on a ley line. Though it attracts its fair share of unsavory characters from the other realm, we sometimes get friendly visitors who stay on to become helpful residents of this house".

Pointing to a small bowl of porridge and honey set on the counter, he says, "The brownies are a friendly bunch living in our attic and they help out in the kitchen. However, they do not like to be seen and will only work at night. So I try not to disturb them and avoid the kitchen unless necessary, usually only when I need to grab food".

"And you already met Mary, who made you dinner yesterday. Mary is the exception who gets along famously well with the brownies".

We take a long while to tour the house, if it can be called a house at all. It is so big that it should be more accurately called a villa, as it comes complete with a farm and residential buildings arranged around a courtyard. Though run-down, it occupies a huge expanse of land that I never dream of even owning. I am in awe when the tour completes.

"So what do you usually do when you are not off killing monsters?" I question Keenan at dinner, curiosity at this enigma who's a werewolf-cum-monster-dispatcher. He's taking on the sheen of a superhero in my eyes.

"Not very exciting, I suppose. I train and exercise on my off days, keeping myself in shape. Watching the news and keeping myself abreast of goings-on in the world. If there's free time left, I read".

"That sounds very normal. Mundane," I remark off-handedly, "Not what I'd imagine of a superhero who saves the world. I'd thought you'll be arranging treaties among the paranormal factions or attending their meetings".

Grinning lopsidedly, Keenan laughs, "Sorry to disappoint you, my dear. I'm afraid I'm just your normal average guy on my off days".

This bantering is relaxing and enjoyable. When was the last time I actually enjoyed a restful day with a guy? I wonder randomly...

...whenasurge of craving for raw meat, no, raw flesh, hit me.