The Undead

Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Letting out a jagged breath, I pull the door open to the small isolation room. A gust of cool air hits me, causing me to shiver. I force my shaking hands down at my side, whishing for this acing in my stomach to subside.

I watch by the door as Shane moves from Seth, who is currently lying on a bed, towards me.

"Is there anything I can do?" I ask, in a low shaky voice as soon as Shane reaches me. "Some way I can help?"

"There's not much you can do," Shane states in a whisper. "He's fading in and out of consciousness. All we really do now is wait. Let the hours pass." My heart clenches in my chest at the mention of the hours. Such a limited amount of time.

"Shane-" I begin but pause, not really knowing how to form my words. It's almost as if I've never learned how to speak. I look up into Shane's black eyes, trying to force the words that will not form out.

Shane places a firm hand on my shoulder. Letting out a deep sigh he tries to speak as well,  "Don't. I've-I've-" he chokes out, stumbling over the simplest of words. Never have I seen this much emotion from him. I glance down at his fist that are shaking with frustration from these feelings that are unknown to him. I wish I could help him, but I know it'll just cause him to shut off. I have to let him figure out on his own how to deal with his emotions. My eyes come back into focus with Shane's, giving me the answer I didn't want but had to know.

"Why don't I wait with you?" I offer, hoping the little sense of comfort it will bring will be better for both of us.

Shane faces his back against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position on the floor. He looks up at me, patting the side beside him for me to sit. Without a word I follow his suit, ending up beside him.

I don't realize how close we are until I feel the warmth from Shane radiating through his jeans that are now touching the edge of me leg. I almost flinch in surprise when Shane's hand grabs mine.  

As much as I want to pull away from him and yell at him, making him realize what he's caused me to go through, I don't. It's no use. There shouldn't be any more stress put on him from me. I've already done enough.

Strangely enough, I let the warmth of his hand engulf the cool tips of mine. I fill in the little space in-between us, and rest my sleepy head on his shoulder. My eyes become heavy causing me to realize that I'm losing the waging war between sleep and I. The war is finally over, leading me into a heavy sleep that  I need immensely.

But somehow I can't hold my grasp on it for very long.

The gut wrenching sounds of choking and vomit hitting the hard floor awake me from what little sleep I've obtained. I remove my head from Shane's lap and rush to Seth's side. I watch desperately wanting to help him, but know there's really nothing I can do. As the blood continues to repel itself from Seth's body he begins to shake vigorously. I snatch the blanket from the bottom of the bed and  wrap it around his shivering body.

Seth finally sits back, done with his vomiting. I sit on the bed with him, placing the pillow on my lap for him to rest upon. As he lays back against me I begin to smooth out his blonde hair that is now sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Welcome to the five hour mark into the transition.

Glancing over at Shane I decide to leave him in his sleeping position. I know this is too hard for him to take. He needs to escape from it for what little time that sleep allows him to.

Seth opens his eyes, and begins to look up at me. I can tell he wants to speak to me from the look he's giving me. But what I can tell more from looking into those eyes is how scared the poor thing is.

I wish I could make everything right again. Take all the fear and suffering away from him.

"It's alright to be scared, Seth. We all are." I whisper, trying not to let my true emotions show or choke over my words.

"Don't let Shane know." Seth remarks through deep raspy breaths of air. His eyes glisten as if he's about to cry. I take in a sharp breath hoping the tears don't fall from his eyes because it'll only be seconds before I'm wailing right beside him.

"I won't. I promise." It's the only promise that I can make to him. I can't just sit here and falsely say to him that 'everything is going to turn out alright.' We both know the truth of the matter. It would just be meaningless words full of false promises that only ebb the pain for a short time. So I do the most logical thing to do, talk. It'll get his mind off of everything and mine as well.

Before I know it hours have passed. Shane arises from the floor, summoning me to his side.

"I want you to leave the room. Go watch over Mito." Shane orders me, pointing towards the door.

"But-" I try to protest, but know my attempt is feudal. "Fine," I sigh leaving the cold room that smells of death.

Casually I walk over to where Mito is sitting upon the couch. I plop down beside him, and begin to stare blankly at the screen.

I remain quiet and motionless, knowing that if I speak a word or move an inch that it might be the breaking point for me.  The numbness of emotions begins to takeover my body, without hesitating I let it consume me, knowing that it's sometimes hard to come out of it.

It feels as if only a few moments have passed before Shane slams the door to the isolation room and storms down the hallway to his room. I cautiously head after him, only to make sure everything is somewhat okay.

Standing by the door to his room, I can vaguely hear him slamming things against the wall and his slight yelling. His words are muffled and the tone of what chaos is happening in the room is low from the slightly soundproof walls. I just have a more acute hearing when I'm really focused on something.

Suddenly, the room becomes silent. I arise to my feet, standing in front of the door.

"Shane," I quietly say, knocking on the door. "Please, open up. You can't-" The door swings opens revealing Shane. His eyes are bloodshot and his once dry cheeks are now damp with tears.  "Shane I'm so sorry. I didn't want any of this to happen." Tears begin to stream down my face. "It's all my fault. I should've never-"

Quickly, I'm pulled into Shane's room and slammed against the wall. My tears have came to a halt, for what little time they can. My chest heaves up and down in a sporadic motion as I stare into Shane's eyes.

"Just shut up. Don't talk. Just stop." Shane begins to pace in front of me, grabbing hand full's of his wavy black hair. "Make it stop!" He begs falling to his knees in hysterics, before me. He wraps his arms around my waist, pressing his face into my stomach. I can feel the wetness of his tears seep through my shirt and meet with my skin.

I grab hold of Shane's shoulders and pull him back up to me. With the dim lighting in the room it's hard for me to see the tears streaming down his face. I know they are there when I press my fingers underneath his eyes, clearing the notifications of pain.

Gently, I slide my hands down to his shoulders, letting them linger on his black v-neck t-shirt. His eyes meet with mine and the same look comes into his eyes that I still cannot read.

Within a second Shane pulls me into him. I inhale a loud breath of shock, it may have seemed so loud from the stillness filling the room. He looks down into my dark eyes that are probably hard for him to read, seeing as I can't even tell how I'm feeling at this moment.

Shane's lips press firmly into mine, almost as if I'm fulfilling his hunger. But the hunger molds into a soft passion that is so different for Shane. I don't back off like the small voice in my head is telling me to. I press myself into Shane, letting my lips move in synch with his.

I almost stumble as I'm pulled to his bead. Shane softly lays me down upon the bed. He glances at me before bending down to kiss me once more. His hand roam down my side, remaining near my butt.

I slide my hands down to the rim of his shirt and lift it from his body. I stop and stare at his chest. But it's not the perfectly chiseled abs I'm staring at.

It's the blood.