These Streaks of Blood

24

The door opens a crack, and Natalee cringes when a line of light from the hall shines across the floor of the otherwise-dark room. She wraps her arms around her shins, trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. She hides the lower half of her face behind her knees, watching the door slowly open wider.

"Well, well, well... if it isn't a lost newborn."

Natalee flinches at the sound of that voice, which only induces more pain from nearly every area of her body.  

She doesn't remember much of how she got so many bruises. Her mind hasn't been working right lately. She knows she was with Daniel for a while. She knows that he left. She knows that some other man tried to take her away. She fought him; it was instinct. She tried to stay. Daniel had told her to stay. She remembers that now; he had told her to stay, but some other man came and grabbed her. She had tried to grab something, anything, to stay, Daniel had told her to stay, to stay...

"How are you feeling, dear?" the voice asks, and it's clearly mocking her.

Natalee's hands begin shaking. Not that voice. Why would that voice be here? Be where? Where is she? She tries desperately to clear her mind, but it's too jumbled, too fragile, and she can't do it.

Suddenly, Nelye is standing in front of her. She's smiling; a grotesque imitation of a soothing expression. She reaches a hand towards Natalee, but the girl cringes in on herself once more, pushing herself backwards into the wall. Pain.  

Nelye sits down on the edge of the bed. "You know, I could help you, Natalee. I know you're feeling quite sick at the moment, but really, I could make you feel better. I just need you to help me first."

Help. Help me, Natalee thinks frantically, but the thought is fleeting, replaced by a million others. Help Nelye? Nelye?  

"Can you speak, Natalee? I won't hurt you. The others here, they will, but I won't let them; not if you help me," promises Nelye. Natalee's wild eyes meet her steady ones for a moment before darting in another direction.  

Don't trust her, one thought says, before it's gone. Another surfaces: I'm going to die.

Nelye stands amidst a swirl of fabric. She walks to the door, pausing when she's illuminated in the light from the hall. She turns back towards Natalee.

"You're going to speak to me. And you're going to help me. Bet on that," she says, and with that, she sweeps out the door, letting it slam shut behind her.  

Tears well up, of their own accord, in Natalee's eyes. So much pain, so much pain. Nelye, why Nelye? Daniel? The man who beat her... yes, he beat her... he grabbed her, she fought, he kicked her, hit her, made her senseless, even more senseless than she was... he beat her all over, until she saw darkness. But she always sees darkness now. Where is the light?

Now she's a prisoner. Like Olivia. Olivia is a prisoner, too. She saw Olivia. She lied to Daniel. Olivia is alive, but she's a prisoner. Like Natalee.

Ropes like Natalee's never seen before are tied around her wrists, her ankles, and she can't break them. Maybe she's too weak. Maybe she deserves this. Yes, she deserves to die. Emily, Daniel, Patty, Olivia... she's put so many people in danger. So many people could die because of what she is. Yes, she deserves to die. 

Her arms ache. Her back aches. Her stomach feels like the lining is on fire. Her throat is completely dried up, and she knows that if she had to breathe, she'd have been dead ages ago. She can't swallow, and it's an uncomfortable feeling. But everything's uncomfortable. Everything's pain.

Voices downstairs. Yelling. Two women. One is Nelye. The other... Natalee doesn't recognize the other. They're angry, yes. Natalee was angry. Natalee was angry at Ryffin, for Changing her. Now she's not angry at anyone. She can't be angry; she's almost dead. She's going to die, but that's okay.