Hunt

Chapter 6: Weight of my Actions

It's when I'm about halfway home that my adrenaline rush begins to subside, and in the space left behind grows a sudden searing pain in my arm and chest. My heart feeling like it was on fire leads me to start hyperventilating in the middle of the street. Clutching at my shirt and falling to my knees my breathing comes short, fast and ragged. This feeling scared me, I've felt this pain before but never this strong. I recognized it from when I first found out that Heather was a Vampire. Threatening to pass out I struggle to stabilize my breathing. Forcing myself to take deeper and slower breaths, it felt like I was suffocating. As I get a a full breath of air does that feeling pass. But I was still a long way from being back to normal.

Why is this happening? I manage to think, looking around the area frantically. I think I spot movement in the trees behind me. A familiar figure weaving through the trees. A girl from a photo that had been on my mind more and more lately.

"W-who's there?" I ask out into the darkness, "Wait!" But before I could even get myself to stand the mirage of the girl vanishes into the darkness. My heart begins to pound in my ears. Am I hallucinating? What's happening to me?

Regret and guilt are the next things to wash over me. Heather was right, my actions tonight were threatening to overwhelm me. Sure I've done worse to others, but I never knew them the same way I know Heather. Never did I have to shoot someone that I had been as close to as I had been to Heather. The further I got away from the playground the more I hurt inside. The more my heart feels like it's going to explode. Eventually it gets too unbearable, forcing me to turn back. Sprinting as fast as my feet can take me to the playground like my life depended on it. Skidding into the clearing where I had seen Heather last I frantically look around. But I couldn't see anyone in the early morning darkness, but the wet stain where heather had been bleeding was clearly visible. I could even smell the blood. It leads further into the tree line, a trail of unsteady bloody footprints. Following them I round a tree to find Heather sitting, leaning against another tree ahead of me. She didn't get very far. She notices me almost before I notice her. A threatening hiss emanating from the figure ahead of me. A warning that would've been enough to drive any other sane individual away. She was a wounded animal ready to lash out at any perceived danger.

"What..? Here to finish me off?" She grunts painfully. A small waiver in her voice. Without a word I kneel down next to her. Quickly pulling a knife, I begin shredding the cloth of my shirt to act as a bandage.

"K-Kyle. Why..?" Heather asks softly in the dark. Wheezing softly with each breath.

"Shut up. Do not say another word," I urge. Gritting my teeth before I admit the truth. "You were right Heather. I couldn't live with myself." I tighten the bandage around her leg, causing her to grunt in pain.

"No." She try's to move but flinches from the pain, settling back down against the tree, "Hunting. Killing. That's not who you are."

I have to pause, about to start tearing another strip from my shirt. "It is now. I can't let anyone else get hurt." A silence falls between us as I tie off another strip of my shirt to Heathers leg.

"Heather," I say, breaking the silence. "Do you remember anything from that night? When you told me everything and lost control?"

I can barely see her shake her head in the darkness. "That night is blurry. I have a hard time recalling..."

"Well..." I take my shirt off to make more bandages, It was bleeding like I hit something important and stubbornly wouldn't stop. Damn my accuracy. At least it appeared to go through and through, there wasn't a bullet lodged somewhere in her leg. She hadn't seen me shirtless since the incident. Our relationship having deteriorated rapidly after that night. My chest is a mess of scar tissue. Deep gashes, claw marks, knife cuts, almost ancient against numerous newer scars from different hunting trips. "You nearly bled me dry. You had knocked me consciousness and barely left me alive."

Heather doesn't respond right away, but her horrified expression tells me enough. "I-I... Kyle..." she tries to reach out to me but I pull away, pushing her hand down. "No..."

I stand, having tied the last strip of my now shredded shirt around her leg, "I hunt monsters who are a threat to those who don't know. Heather, you may not have intended it, but you nearly killed me that night. I can't just ignore that. I can't let that happen again." I was towering over Heather, who had begun to cry. "Please. Just stay away from me and my family. Don't try to protect me. I can do that for myself."

When I leave this time I feel better. She'll live, it'll probably be a bit painful for awhile but Vampires do heal rather quick. A lot faster than I could. The early morning air is cold on my bare body, chilling me to the bone. I'm spurred to walk faster. To get myself out of the cold I was now feeling quite vulnerable in.

As I sneak back into my house I become quite aware of how bloody my appearance looks. The gashes on my arm left by Heather have stopped bleeding, but my hands were caked in blood both my own and hers. I shouldn't be needing stitches, but cleaning and wrapping the would it would be my top priority right now. Locking myself in the bathroom I clench my teeth, daring to look at myself in the mirror. My eyes, once full of light and energy, were dull and stone cold. Dark circles danced under them, contrasting the bluish green hues. Dirty and splattered with blood, I drop my gaze to the sink in front of me. The blood on my hands was dried and beginning to crack under the movements of my fingers. Cranking the water hot I begin the tedious task of scrubbing my hands clean. Slowly peeling myself free from the layers of crimson that wash down the drain, staining the water a ruddy brown.

It feels like it takes hours before I can finally get to a point where I recognize my own skin again. Content with how it turned out I turn my attention to the wounds on my arm. Four deep cuts run down the length of my forearm where Heather had gripped me. A spiral pattern of four equally spaced gashes. Fresh blood had begun to ooze from the wound as I was moving to wash my hands. It had begun to hurt again, a dull throbbing pain now radiating hot pain up my arm and into my shoulder. It felt like it hurt even to look at the wound.

"Dammit..." I grumble as I reach under the sink for any disinfectant I could fine. Landing on some ancient rubbing alcohol that was long past its prime. It would have to do. Better than the alternative. Infection is never fun...

I look at the bottle, debating whether or not to risk an infection or not. With an unhappy grunt I answer that question I was toying with. Popping the top off I prop my wounded arm over the sink. Using the remainder of my tattered shirt as something to clench between my teeth I take the plunge. Dousing my arm in the cool and clear liquid.

At first it wasn't so bad, but as the alcohol begins to work its way into my wounds the burning begins to build up quickly. Escalating at an exponential rate. Flaring up my arm and down my side almost all the way to my legs. I'm forced stifle a scream, which only coming out as a pained noise muffled from behind the shirt lodged in my mouth. Involuntarily slamming my fist down into the countertop, pain flares up in my knuckles. My knees go weak and threaten to buckle out from under me, yet I still manage to hold myself up to the sink with my free hand. Propping myself up on the sink I try to get my feet under me. My legs feel very much like jello, making the task of standing on my own a daunting one. It's after what felt to be an eternity that the pain begins to subside, the gashes are cleaned out and rinsed before getting bandaged and wrapped with material much better, and cleaner, than my shirt. My left arm looked like a mummy wrap. It was crude and ugly. But between the pain and the exhaustion pulling at my bones it would work for now. Function taking priority over appearance. I'd have more time later to properly cover it.

I run some water around the sink to wash some of the blood down the drain before I turn the light off before and open the door. As the soft click rings out into the still house I don't notice that the door to Julie's room had been cracked open. Creeping down the hall to my room I close my door quietly behind me. I felt like I could sleep forever, yet I knew I'd have to be up in a couple of short hours. My bed calls to me like a siren to a sailor as I'm fast asleep before my head hits the pillow.