Twisted

Chapter 12

"Learn to love what you've been taught to fear." -Felix Baumgartner

~~

Bloodlust. No, no it couldn't be. Why would I have bloodlust? It must be a joke. I look around the room, waiting for laughter to break out, but no one moves a muscle.

I turn back to Elijah. His eyes are studying my every move with a terrifying intensity.

"I did not lie to you when I said that I sensed you. You are one of us Elyse, whether you want to admit it or not." Elijah's tone left no room for argument. And as much as I wanted to argue, I couldn't. Everything he had just said was true.

"I.. I need .. a minute. Can.. Can I be.. excused? Uh.. Where .. um... the bathroom?" I can't seem to form a proper sentence.

Elijah nods, as if understanding that it is a lot to take in. "Out the doors, take the first left, then it is the third door on the right."

I silently thank him with my eyes, before rushing out of the room. Once outside the doors, and what I believe to be out of earshot, I crumble to the floor. I try to take deep breaths to calm myself down, but I can tell it's not working as well as I would hope.

After a few moments, I struggle to stand, not wanting anyone to find me on the floor. Once I am standing on steady feet, I look back to where I came from and luckily no one has followed me.

I continue down the hallway until I see the another hallway to the left. Rounding the corner, I keep my head down, trying to maintain my breathing, when I run into something. Or rather someone.

Not wanting this person to see the state I am in, I keep my head down, mumbling a sorry. Quickly maneuvering around the person, I take some steps back. All I can see of this person I ran into is a pair of shiny black shoes accompanied by sleek black dress pants. I quickly make my way to the third door, as instructed by Elijah, and rush inside.

I turn around, prepared to shut the door when the person calls out. "Wait!" But I don't listen, slamming the door instead. A small part of me begs me to open the door and talk to the person behind it, but the logical part tells me to ignore them.

Luckily there is a lock on the door and I quickly flip it. I lean against the door, before sliding down it. I pull my knees up to my chest and drop my head into my legs. Tears begin streaming down my face and I do absolutely nothing to stop them.

I hear footsteps approaching the door, but at this point, I don't care. The bathroom has just become my safe haven and I don't plan on leaving it any time soon.

"Are you alright?" The voice comes from right outside of the bathroom. The masculine voice is laced with concern and sends a shiver down my spine. "You don't have to talk to me, but I'm going to stay out here. At least until you calm down." The voice is like music to my ear. Instantly, my tears begin to slow, as if this voice is the only thing I need to calm me down. What is happening to me? Have I lost all sanity?

I hear a soft thud on the door I am leaning on, before the sound of something sliding down it. Taking a few deep breaths, my tears finally stop and I just stare at the bathroom ahead of me.

It's an odd feeling to me, knowing that someone I didn't even know, was sitting outside of a bathroom, ensuring I was alright. At this point, however, I was not ready to talk. Instead, I begin to look around the bathroom. It matches the elegance of the rest of the house, which is not surprising. White cabinets, white walls and a shining white toilet are all contrasted by a beautiful black granite countertop. Sitting atop the black granite is a see through bowl, which I realize is the vessel into which the faucet will pour into.