Hell's Army

Chapter Thirty-two- A Merry Little Christmas

"The government is denying what has been reported as 'strange' and 'inhuman' occurrences in Setan City on Christmas Day," the blonde woman with pursed lips and unsmiling eyes said over the television. "The police have issued an official report saying that the things allegedly seen were results of a bio terrorist attack on-"

"You have got to be kidding me," Holly muttered.

Ingleseid leaned his head back on her couch and sighed. "Humanity isn't ready for vampires, demons and angels. They'd rather close their eyes and cover their ears than see the monsters lurking in the shadows."

"Yeah, well, good for them," she snapped.

"How's Garrett?" Tatters asked quietly.

"I'll check in on him," Ingleseid said, getting up.

They were keeping Garrett in the basement in case he woke up with his newly-found, evil friend in the driver's seat.

He blinked awake as light flooded in, arms straining against the ropes binding him to the chair.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Ingleseid said.

"What happened?" he mumbled groggily.

"The blood's left your system. Luckily, you didn't go on a full-out feeding frenzy, or you'd be down here a lot longer, trust me."

"But..." he looked down, veins on his forehead straining in concentration. "There was this boy. He was at the bar, and I- oh, God- I killed him." He choked on his own sobs, breath coming out in frantic, desperate heaves.

"I'm sorry," Ingleseid said, and he meant it.

"He begged me not to!" Garrett cried, every breath sounding painful. "I didn't even care. It was all just a game. He was just a game." Shoulders shaking, he whispered, "You should have killed me."

"No, I shouldn't," Ingleseid said firmly.

"I'm a monster."

"No," he said, almost snapped. "You're living with a monster. It's two different things. You have to fight it."

"I did fight," Garrett said. "I fought, and I lost, and now- now that boy is dead."

"So remember him," Ingleseid said quietly. "Remember his face, his voice. And every time you think about giving up, remember that face. Remember what you have to lose."

"I can't do this. I can't live with this thing. God, get it out of me!" he screamed.

"I know you're hurting-" Ingleseid began.

"Hurting?" He laughed, not a happy laugh at all. "This is so much more than hurting. It's tearing me apart. Every time I breathe, it's like I'm on fire. You think this hurting me? It's killing me, Ingleseid."

"I'm not saying the pain will go away. I'm not saying there'll be a day where you don't see his face, where the guilt won't threaten to crush you alive. But this isn't the end. Now, you pick yourself up, you live again. You find friends, you find happiness, and slowly, things start to become bearable again."

"How do you know so much about this?" he whispered.

Ingleseid clapped him on the shoulder, stood up. He untied the ropes around Garrett's arms. "Come up when you're ready, okay?"

He didn't say anything.

"How is he?" Holly said when he arrived.

"Bad."

She nodded grimly.

"I'm just going to pop down to the store," Ingleseid muttered. "Need a walk."