Hunt

Chapter 8: Deep Crimson

"Kyle? Hey you alright? Kyle!" Her voice cuts through the haze clouding my head in panic like a knife. Cleaving a clear hole through the static in my head.

"R-Reyna." I manage to say, focusing on what little I could see, my vision a blur of pain and tears. But I begin to focus on the little things, anything I could. We were in the back of my car. My arm was burning, bleeding, it's a big mess. Reyna is next to me, holding my hands in hers. My blood staining her perfect skin. "What..?"

She squeezes my hands softly, "I'm here. Tell me how I can help. What's wrong?" Her words slipping over the top of mine like a soft blanket. "You can tell me. Okay?"

In that brief moment I feel uncomfortably compelled to tell her everything. From shooting Heather last night to simply everything that's happened to me in the last year or so. In this moment I feel like I'm in heathers position from years ago, on the edge, so close to telling everything and dragging another soul down into this hell with me. But as I hold my tongue, the brief moment of vulnerability passes as my vision beginning to clear. My emotions quickly begin to calm after I regain control over my breathing. This vulnerable version of me being quickly replaced by my more reserved self as I focus on Reyna, the ringing dispersing from my ears. I couldn't tell her, couldn't tell anyone. No matter what happens I can't open that door for anyone. I can't tell a soul about what I've seen. What I've done. I have to lie...

"Something happened. Last night." I begin to say softly, filling the now expanding void in the conversation. "I... There was a lot of blood, but I think I did the best I could." I continue my story softly, trying to hold back my emotions that were beginning to bubbling violently back up to the surface. I couldn't allow myself to be swallowed by them again. Not now.

"Was someone hurt? Kyle?" Reyna's words were soft and comforting, something I could hold on to. Something I could use to help anchor myself back to reality. Looking into her eyes I could tell she immediately knew this was more than just a bad dream and poor sleep. "It's okay, you can tell me what happened."

"I was taking a walk, I needed to get out for a while. It was late. Dark. I didn't know anyone else was out there. I thought I was alone." I stop to take a shaky breath, "Something hit me, knocked me down..."

My hands are squeezed tightly as Reyna asks, "You were attacked?" 

Through a small nod I continue my 'recounting' of the events. I do my best to tell as much of the truth that I can. But even so, I'm forced to lie. "I fought back. I always carry a knife, but..." My eyes drop from hers, fixating on a small point somewhere between us. "... I never thought I'd have to use it... There was just so much blood."

I could see the gears turning in Reyna's head, the pieces of the puzzle is given her fitting into place. I could see it behind her eyes. But I couldn't tell what she was thinking. "You had to hurt them. Protected yourself. Is that right?"

As I nod my head I close my eyes, fighting the images of Heather on the ground out of my head: bleeding, pained, hungry... I'm jolted back to reality as my hands are squeezed again. Opening my eyes I'm staring straight into Reyna's, the mysterious girl from California who I've only just met a day ago. But time seemed to be irrelevant lately. In this moment it felt like I'd known Reyna all my life.

"Kyle. It's going to be alright. Okay?" Reyna's words cutting into the silence, her hands releasing mine and hovering above my self inflicted wounds. Hesitating over the gashes that weren't caused by me. "These cuts..." the wheels were beginning to turn again. I didn't dare move, taking breaths to calm myself and to keep the pain from growing from it's dull and manageable rumble. "Did these happen during your attack?" Reyna asks.

"Yes." I say, nodding slowly.

She looks me up and down, her expression hardening. "Were you hurt anywhere else?"

"Only those." I say softly, "why?"

She doesn't answer my question, a shadow falling across her face. "Just trying to understand what happened to you."

Did she catch something? Did she recognize something in the scars? I think to myself, something about Reyna's expression was concerning. This whole situation had me rattled. I could tell that her worry was genuine. But there was something else behind her eyes. Something deeper that I couldn't place. Did she actually recognize where my injuries could've come from? Does she actually know about this other side of the world? My heart begins to race as panic begins to set back in. Surely not, there's no way she's aware of it... by why would she be so comfortable being here with me? With all this blood?

The moment passes and I chalk it up to my exhausted paranoia, then movement outside the window catches my gaze. A brief flash of a red door and the sound of it shutting. Through the clearing haze of my near second meltdown I could see Heather's figure in the drive seat of her car. She looks over and our eyes meet. As they do the haze rolls back in, clouding everything but our eye contact. My body goes rigid as Heather's expression goes from confused to angry to a distant cold. In that instant I could feel myself slipping into my head once again, my already racing heart starts pounding in my ears once again. Falling into an abyss of sheer unforgiving darkness. Anxiety driving me back into myself. Retreating back into my shell. To safety. Her car starts and begins to roll back from its spot and I don't move my eyes, unable to, worried that if I even moved a little bit my body would shatter into a million pieces.

"Kyle? Hey!" Reyna's voice echoes through my head, sounding miles away, like it's been carried away on the wind.

"Nonono, stay with me here!" She pleads, gripping my hands in hers, anchoring me. Through a broken inhale and a sobbing exhale I feel myself breakdown, through tightly grit teeth and unrelenting tears I collapse in the backseat of my car. Into Reyna's arms. I felt weak, powerless, like the old me.

As I looked down my hands were stained crimson once again, only this time I knew it was my blood on my hands. Not hers...