Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

X - The Visitors (1 of 2)

--XIII--

I woke up in the middle of the night, out of breath.

Cold sweat trickled down my brow as I turned to look at the now-open window. The heart monitor still beeped in a regular but quickened pace.

Reluctantly, I clasped a hand on my chest just to make sure that my heart was still beating.

I was alive.

Dad's subtle snores filled the room as he slumped sound asleep on a chair.

Intently, I listened to every sound.

Nothing seemed to be off so I closed my eyes. The beeps from the monitor doubled when the door opened with an eerie creak, like rusty knives being scraped against each other.

When I peeked through the narrow gap, I saw Vincent staring at me from the dimly lit corridor. He wasn't wearing his adaptive glasses and I could only gasp in horror when I saw a pair of silvery eyes piercing right through me. They were so vivid, so mystifying and yet, so abnormal. As if those eyes could not belong to a human.

With a nod of his head, Vincent started to walk away.

Impulsively, I removed the probes attached to my chest and ripped the needle from the back of my hand. Muffled whimpers escaped my mouth as I pressed my fingers on the tiny puncture.

I ran after him, leaving a trail of blood behind me.

The floor was icy against my bare feet. And all I could hear were Vincent's silent footfalls echoing throughout the seemingly empty hospital corridor.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

His steps slowed down. He was deliberately waiting for me. There was a grim look on his faultless face when he turned to face me. His silver eyes were so intense with a sinister force that seemed to pull me like a magnet.

An otherworldly chill in the air penetrated the white hospital gown I was wearing, making my body tremble.

I could not move a muscle or even breathe. Even when I tried, I couldn't look away.

The gap between his brows furrowed as his eyes examined the blood on the floor trickling from my hand. All of a sudden, his shoulders tensed. Then he took a step toward me, his pale metallic eyes smoldering when he snatched my bleeding hand.

"I didn't save your life just so you could try to kill yourself again." His voice rumbled through his teeth.

From the chest pocket of his coat, he pulled out a crimson handkerchief and tied it around my hand.

I winced, opening my mouth to speak, just to close it again when nothing came out. I was so distracted by his eyes that it took me a while to realize that he was wearing a black tuxedo, just like Lindsay had described.

"Thanks... for saving me," I started to mutter, still wide-eyed, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Vincent's expression hardened. "Don't thank me just yet. You still don't know what I need in exchange."

"I—in exchange? I don't understand, Vincent." I shook my head.

His grip tightened around my wrist. I could only flinch when he lowered his face closer to me.

"Eternal servitude." His voice was low and ominous, loud enough so that it bounced off the walls.

He raised his free hand as if to catch something from the air above his head. Blue flames suddenly sputtered from his palm, engulfing his whole hand in a fraction of a second.