Ruthless

Chapter 7 - Tearing of skin

1662- CZECH REPUBLIC

"Leora, close it!" He grunted, throwing himself back. "Close the Goddamn door!" Tristan yelled, not being able to control himself. It was stronger than him, than anything.

She glanced at the full moon right above the mausoleum they were in. It was pitch dark outside but she could hear the passing of horses. Out of breath from running, Leora closed the doors and watched her brother. She had only seen him turn about 3 times but this time she was so much more afraid. Not only because they were looked for by the King's subjects but because the last time Tristan turned, he had almost killed her. She was supposed to leave, run away but she couldn't leave her brother alone in this terrifying place. The thought of him going through all the pain by himself upset her.

Tristan scratched his skin under the loose white shirt. He was panting, his skin was burning but he was so cold. He felt like he was drowning, he couldn't breathe and every breath he tried to take hurt his entire body.

We have to be greater than what we suffer, he heard his father's voice inside his head. He was only 18 and once a month, every month, he had to spend a night in agony. In this old mausoleum. But it was his only choice, he had no other alternative.

"You can control it, Tris. You can." She tried to be quiet but the sound of his animal like breathing and soft murmuring scared her. She was only 16, what did she know of life? Wat did she know of Tristan's sufferings, of the pain he was experiencing? His little sister genuinely believed he could control it and she was so naïve for doing so. Leora picked up her long dress and sat beside him and looked at him with a loving look in her eyes, she felt for him. She'd always admired her big brother, he meant the world to her.

He looked at her, still breathing heavily as if he'd just ran across their vegetable field and back. She wanted to rub his back but her hand flinched the moment she felt how soaking wet with sweat he was. His skin felt so hot, it actually caught her off guard.

His finger broke.

A cracking sound came from the tip of his finger, Leora's eyes widened and a whimper left Tristan's mouth before full blown agonizing screams erupted from his throat. The snapping of his hand made him fall to the ground, not being able to handle the pain. Every single bone in his body was breaking and withering to grow back as frames for the beast. He was transforming into the creature he hated. Leora heard him praying inbetween soft cries.

He was crawling on the floor, his face forming lumps and growling. This wasn't pain that Leora or me or even you could understand.

Maybe if I put it like this: imagine your skin on fire while being pierced by thousands of needles. Tearing open, falling off and reforming. This was the kind of pain that made Tristan want to take his own life. And if Leora wasn't under his care, then he would have. Nothing would make him go through this, except for the love he had for his sister.

His white shirt stained with patches of blood. She fell to her knees right next to him, tears spilling out of her eyes. "Tristan, please." She placed her hands over his mouth, trying to muffle the screams coming from his mouth. She wanted him to be quiet. They were at a cemetery and she didn't want to disrupt the dead. Especially not the one in the mausoleum. He tried his hardest not to bite down on her fingers and hurt her. But it was all getting the best of him, every bone in his body had broken but his transformation would be over in a few minutes.

He raised his hand and took a hold of her face, his fingers right over her mouth. He pulled himself up and stared her right in the eyes. She was terrified, petrified, shocked to see her brother like this. The grip of his hand hurt her face, felt like he would break her jaw but she couldn't stop him. Her eyes widened as he kept grunting, bearing his longer teeth. Tristan threw her back, his skin started tearing and in just a minute he would become a monster.