The Greatest Obsession

Chapter Seventeen: The Nightmare & The Necessary Sin

The 31st of July had passed quietly and without resistance or argument. For this, Elijah was thankful, as was Haydn. Apologies were said, and forgiveness was given. Ever since that night, there was a strange squeamish demeanor about Elijah, and mere touch jolted his entire body in spasms of pleasure. He played it off as nothing in front of his family, but on the inside, he was restless.

....

Irina knew something was off when she didn't remember her morning or why she was outside in her nightgown. In midday this was the worst fog she'd encountered; the girl could barely see past her outstretched hand. The grass crunched under Irina's bare feet and she was quite sure she knew where she was. She assumed she was in the backyard, where else would she have gone? A yell reached Irina's ears, one that called out to her. It was distant. Where do I go? she thought. Left? It sounded from the left. The girl heard the yell again, it was closer.

"Hello?" Irina asked, leaning her body in the direction it came from. She walked forward, just a bit, before stopping again. She heard footsteps running towards her which caused the girl to search frantically with her eyes.

"Irina?" the voice asked her. It was so familiar. Irina's face bore the evident emotional battle between confusion and fear as she tried desperately to place the voice. She couldn't see anyone.

"Where are you?" Irina pulled her knotted red hair behind her ears and squinted her eyes into the vast grayness.

"I'm standing right in front of you, love."

Love, she thought. After chewing her lip, Irina glanced down at her left hand. Her engagement ring appeared dull on the low cloudy day, but it was there, and it had to mean something. "Elijah," Irina muttered to herself.

"Yes?"

When the lady of the house looked up, she saw him standing in front of her as he said. Elijah, too, was dressed in his nightgown, and his skin was dewy as if he'd been running in the fog. He was breathless. "Elijah, where are we?"

The brown-haired man chuckled at her. "We're home, silly. Where else would we be?"

"Where is home?"

"The estate. Are you well, dear? You're looking pale." Elijah placed his right hand on Irina's forehead. The girl gasped and jerked back. Her fiancé's skin was so cold, but it was warm outside.

"I am not the ill one, Elijah, you are freezing." Irina mimicked him placed her fingers against his cheeks, his head. His forehead was sweltering hot, and his eyes looked glazed over. "Come inside, I'll have Margaret fix you something warm to eat."

The young woman had no inkling of where she was supposed to go. Irina knew that she must be at home, but with fog this dense she couldn't tell if she was in the maze or out, or in the front yard. There was no way of knowing which way to turn, so she extended her arm before wrapping her other arm around Elijah's waist to haul him off with her, even if he appeared quite capable of walking on his own. The back of her lover's gown was wet and slippery. Unable to ignore the strange texture, Irina peered at his back and pulled away quicker than if she'd touched death. Cold blood ran down the length of Elijah's nightgown with a wound just under the back of his neck. The panicked look in Irina's eyes didn't seem to scare Elijah. He looked upset, reaching out to her. "No, no, it's all right, Irina. I am well, I promise you. This is nothing."

"Nothing?" the girl half-yelled "You're bleeding. What's happened to you?" The frightened daughter realized her sudden distance made Elijah unhappy, so she rushed up to him and pressed her hands against the sides of his face. "Tell me what happened."

"Calm yourself, my love. All is well. I am fine." Elijah pried her fingers from his cheeks and kissed them. Little specks of blood were left behind, which Irina tried not to notice. Her stinging eyes clouded with tears. She didn't know what to do. Blood spilled past Elijah's lips, and Irina felt her body shudder at the sight of her soon-to-be husband so calm despite his increasing state of sickness. How could he lessen the importance of his injuries? "I love you, Irina."