The Greatest Obsession

Chapter Five: Bite Marks

The first thing Elijah noticed when he woke was his splitting headache. He felt drained, as if all life had been sucked out of him. He could have slept longer, deeper, and, to his own preference, without dreams. He usually woke fresh and well-rested even if he'd woken in the middle of the night. The drained feeling that kept him glued to his pillow felt foreign.

Elijah sighed, stuffing his face into his pillow. He groaned to himself. When he rested his cheek on the pillow, it was wet. He expected to find saliva pooled from a good night sleep, but was greeted by the unexpected scent of copper. Without looking, he drew his fingers along the surface. His fingers were coated in warm blood. He gasped, lurching backward on his knees. His pillow was soaked in the sticky redness.

"My God," he whispered, horrified.

Elijah's hands wiped at his face, which was stippled in patches of red from rolling in his slumber. He wrenched himself free of the covers and stumbled to the vanity mirror in the corner of his room. Blood stained his nightgown. He was pale, eyes glazed over as if sick. The tips of his hair were matted red and he sought frantically to fix the problem by combing his nails through his hair. After shoving the hair away, he saw a large, mouth-shaped wound. He felt the air brush against it. A rush of coldness chilled his veins, freezing his skin.

He screamed louder than he thought he could scream. Elijah fell in terror and backed away from the mirror, crawling on his elbows and heels until he felt the back of his head press into the side of the mattress. He stammered at his reflection. He pulled the nightgown, further exposing his shoulder and his collarbone, to stare at the wound. His breath came from him in wild gasps. Elijah feet pressed and pushed into the wood floor and felt tears well in his eyes.

At that moment, the housekeeper appeared in her work clothes which consisted of an umber colored blouse and skirt, a white apron that came across her old chest, and a kind ruffled hairpiece. "Mr. Marks, what might be--" she paused, and stared at the blood covering the young master. She let out a horrified scream.

"Where is Abraham?" Elijah cried.

The woman backed into in the hall. Too startled to speak, she pointed with shaking fingers towards the direction of the stairs. Half-blinded by a surge of adrenaline, Elijah lifted himself from the ground and ran out of his room. His feet tripped into the hall and he went surging to the steps. He'd never run down the stairs before. Elijah believed it to be unnecessary and always feared he might fall, but falling was now the least of his worries. He was too frightened to think rationally. He dashed into the parlor. Abraham wasn't there.

Servants all throughout the house rushed to Elijah's aid, but he shunned them. There was only one person that could help him with this matter. One servant attempted to grab him by the shoulders.

"No!" he screamed, shoving the servant out of his way.

He found Abraham speaking with Irina in the dining room. They were eating breakfast, talking merrily until Elijah once again screamed for the lord of the house to hear him. Irina saw him first.

"Elijah!" Irina cried out. She rushed from her chair. As she went to approach her fiancé he threw his arms outward to prevent her from touching him. "Elijah, what's happened to you?"

The man couldn't speak. He felt lost for words. Abraham Snow had managed to remove Irina from the shaking gentleman with a warm hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Let him be, darling," he whispered. Despite having forced her away, she loomed over the old man and the petrified man-child. Elijah slid down the wall, his hands gripping tightly to his hair. He could see the signs of a breakdown forming within Elijah and called for a servant to have Irina taken from the room to redress herself, for she had blood smeared on her corset. Abraham cast his eyes down on the now sobbing young man. He looked up at Abraham as he wrapped his arms around his knees. He was confused, and his anger was diffused. All that was left was shock and worry.