Dark

Chapter 3

"Tears stream down your face, I promise you I will learn from my mistakes. Tears stream down your face and I... Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you." -Fix You by Coldplay

Chapter 3:

      Some places are beautiful in the winter. Light snow as soft and white as feathers blanket the ground and sun sparkles on the icicles that drape the trees. Sorrow's Bend, Illinois, is not. There is one word to describe winter here and it's gray. It's so cold that it feels like a hand is gripping your throat and squeezing the life out of you. Thick, heavy clouds ready to burst coat the sky, and slick, wet snow lays thinly on the ground. My Savior grips my arm tightly as he steers me through the streets, slipping on the ice-coated ground. I'm skipping to keep up with his urgent pace. As he drags me behind him, I spot the familiar mark tattooed into his neck, and am strangely compelled to run my fingers over it. His white T-Shirt is thin, and I can see the sharp ridges of his spine jutting through. I pinch myself sharply on the arm and remind myself who this boy is, what he's done. He pulls me into an old, concrete building, up the stairs, our footfalls echoing like music, and onto the roof. It's deserted, just a flat, wide expanse covered with small ridges and indentations. We perch on the ledge, seven stories up, our boot-clad feet tracing circles in the empty space. My Savior slides his fingers over to mine, but I cringe and pull away.

     "Toria...." he says. Is that all he can say?

     "No. Stop it, just stop it, okay? I haven't forgotten. I've forgotten a lot of things, but not you, and not what you've done. Now tell me why you're really here." I snap.

     He raises his eyebrows at me and smirks slightly. He's amused by my defiance. He knew me at a time in my life when I was lost, broken, and weak. I'm strong now. He gave me the incentive. Now he leans forward and pulls my hair away from my ears, letting his lips tickle my ear. Instantly, I smell smoke and feel the ache of metal and fire against my skin, but it's gone in a moment. Only a memory.

     "I came... to see you." he whispers.

     "Tell me the truth." I demand.

     He smirks again. "You've gotten braver since I last saw you."

     I glare at him for even uttering those words, reminding me of what I left behind, what I'm running away from.

     "If you must know, I'm not here on my own. I've come to collect you. The Director wants you."

     "So you're working with the Director now? I find that hard to believe. I didn't think you of all people would ever take orders from someone."

     "Times have changed since you left, Toria. People change."

     "So what are you getting paid for your services? You've never been one to deal in money."

     "No. Not money. Revenge."

     I nod. I understand. I've felt the same thirst for it that he does. I'd be lying if I said I don't now. I've just learned how to suppress it.

     "Have you... seen anything?" he asks.

     "Of course I have. It's been three years. I see them every week, sometimes more."

     "I mean have you seen anything, different? Unusual behaviors in them?"

     My eyes widen. How could he know? He can't possibly know.

     I jerk my head slightly. "Why do you ask?"

     "The demons, they've been... changing. Getting restless, rebellious. Stronger. That's why I need to take you back."

       I shake my head and pull away. "I'm never going back, not to the Director, and most certainly not back to... that place. I've spent three years running away, I can do it a bit more. What's the Director going to do, give me a new identity, move me away again? They can't do that forever."

     He looks at me forlornly. "They can sure as hell try."

     I stand and pace around the rooftop for a few seconds, trying to collect my thoughts. I watch my Savior stand and approach me, his footfalls light and graceful on the slick ground. There's something almost reproachful in his eyes as he comes to stand next to me. I tense as he reaches his arm out, and he notices and backs away slightly.

     "Toria..." he says, for what seems to be the hundredth time.

      "What? What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? That I still care about you, even after everything you've done? Because I don't. I don't care anymore, because if there's one thing what you did taught me, it's that if you care about something, you lose it. Always." This is true. I've encased my heart in ice and now I'm incapable of love. Unless someone comes along and melts it.

      "No, I know that's not going to happen. All I want to hear is that you haven't given up entirely. That there's still one part of you that wants to fight, wants to love, even if it burns. You've never been one to go down without a fight."

     I sigh. he's not wrong. "So what is it you want from me, exactly?"

     "I just want you to promise me you'll try."

     "What, when I'm locked up in some cell with a thousand needles in my arm? The Director's never going to let that happen, she's just going to test on me and change me and maybe even just wipe my mind. Or she'll lock me up for good, and this time, there will be no escape. So go ahead, turn me in, but we'll see if your "revenge" is really worth the price you'll pay for it."

     "I'm giving you a chance. To go back with me. Not to the Director. You know where. You know that try as you may, you can't run forever. I'm not going to turn you in, just come with me. We need you. I need you."

     He's begging. How odd. I bite my lip and think about what I would be leaving behind. Nothing, really. Just a broken home and some scattered memories, lost in the snow.

    "Fine. Just give me a week."

     He smirks and squeezes my arm. "That's my girl."