Turpentine & Vetiver

15. Red Paint -from which stars have we fallen to meet each other here-Nietzsche

   Thorn woke up late the next day; having had the strangest dreams. He hadn't thought of much after killing Dani- only her last words to him, the confusion he'd felt afterwards. He recalled the dream he'd just had- it was about the last time Inky had paid him a visit. He was talking to her about the Red Void, though the words were vague.
   I look down at my hand- the hand Inky had just held. The black ink stain had somehow transferred onto my skin, I feel- perversely excited about this. I wonder if there will ever be a time that she would leave the ink stains- other places... I try to block out the thought, smiling awkwardly at my mirrored reflection in the hallway. There's a small spot of ink on my face now, too- I wonder how that got there? I walk into the next room- Inky is there, holding the bloodstained knife. She smiles at me, and I see the dead body on the floor next to her. I walk across the room to see who it is, and I recognize my own dead face staring blankly back at me. Inky hands me the knife, then slowly disappears like a pale ghost...
   He wasn't sure what this dream pertained to, yet it made him uneasy. Thorn decided to go to the art museum several towns away; it was a more relaxing atmosphere than the Gallery, and he wanted to avoid that entire area for the time being. Somebody would notice Dani was missing sooner or later, and he didn't want to be caught up in the inevitable investigation of her disappearance. Thorn thought about Inky; the way her ink-stained fingers had touched his skin, making him feel real, alive- instead of some dissociative monster. She seemed to actually care about him after finding out the truth of the Red Void- at least the truth he told her- omitting the more graphic details.
   Inky even seemed to trust him now; allowing him to touch her- however, he wanted more. He stared at the walls of the art museum, wishing she could be there with him. There was so much he wanted to share with her- yet didn't want to cause a sensory overload. That night, he stayed in a hotel on the side of the highway; listening to the wind whistle plaintively through the tall trees. Thorn stayed there for a few more days, before returning to the dark building. He hadn't been sleeping well anyway since he'd killed Dani, the paranoia of the abomination still strong in his mind. He didn't especially feel fear properly, either- yet this monstrosity caused a primal urge within him to run.
   Thorn had made a new painting using Dani's stolen blood, the void keeping him awake most of the night, whispering its grotesque secrets. Tonight the abomination seemed closer than ever- though he'd offered Dani as a sacrifice; it seemed to have rejected it- or merely wanted more than he'd offered. A low, buzzing frequency filled the air around him, and Thorn noticed the acrid scent of blood and ozone filling the room. Not again- I'm so tired tonight, he thought, feeling on the verge of complete mental collapse. Insomnia had done him no favors- he felt isolated, alone- and hadn't even heard from Inky since their last encounter.
   He held the scalpel over his arm, slicing down into his skin through his shirtsleeve, watching the blood pool out onto the broken mirror at his feet. I thought I got rid of that mirror- did I break another one? That's at least three- but I've already had 27 years of bad luck... He splashed the blood onto the canvas, his blood combining with that of his most recent victim's. Cutting his arm again with a shard of the broken mirror, Thorn focused on the pain that anchored him to reality. When I lose control like this, I feel as though I'm drowning. I don't even know if I'm real anymore. Thorn stared blankly at the grey walls, unsure how much time had passed since he'd started working on the new blood-painting. The large canvas was desecrated in various shades of red- deep rusty streaks, bright crimson splatters, faint pinkish trails where the blood had dispersed more rapidly. It smelled like copper pennies left out in the rain too long, and was so strong he could almost taste it in his mouth.
   Stumbling to his feet; he felt fatigued, exhausted- but had to stay awake to keep the Red Void at bay. He poured himself a strong gin and tonic- the bottle slipping out of his hand, rolling across the floor and spilling most of its contents onto the tile. Fuck it, he thought, taking a drink. He had nearly finished the entire glass when he heard a sound outside the building. Knock, knock, knock- a quick, staccato succession on the front of his door. Thorn paused, wondering who it could be- he'd told Cayson and the others at the Gallery that he was going out of town- and he hoped it wasn't the police or any other overly-curious law enforcement.
   Inky? Is that you? He put on a pair of large, dark sunglasses to hide the dark circles around his eyes- knowing he already looked sleep-deprived and potentially insane. She's probably going to take one look at you and run, Thorn realized; slowly making his way to the door. After a few minutes, he answered; Inky stood there on the stone steps in front of him. He peered around behind her to make sure nobody had followed her, then pulled her inside the building and locked the door behind them. "What's wrong?" she asked, staring up at his face. "You came back. I didn't know if you would. I didn't know if you wanted to..." Thorn took off his sunglasses, staring back at her. Inky's expression changed, a strange look in her eyes. "Of course I came back," she replied softly. "You're haunting me now."
   Thorn didn't know how to respond to this- it meant she'd actually been thinking about him, perhaps she'd even missed him. Her words adhered themselves to the inside of his mind, transforming his thoughts. She averted her eyes, staring down at the floor. "Thorn? What happened to you?" she asked in concern, and he noticed what she was staring at. His cut arm had bled profusely; to the extent of staining the floor, a small crimson pool at their feet. Fuck. I completely forgot about that, he thought dismissively, shaking his head and slowly backing away from her. Inky reached out, pulling the arm he'd tried to hide out from behind his back. He didn't try to oppose her, and saw her staring at the torn shirtsleeve, the ragged cut beneath. She wore a pained expression, but stayed silent, watching as his blood slowly dripped onto the tile. "They came back," he finally answered, offering no further explanation.
   "You're bleeding- what did you do?" she inquired a second time, and Thorn shrugged, pulling his bloody arm away from her. The motion caused more red droplets to fall to the floor, and Inky looked down at her hand, a worried expression on her face. She peered around the room behind him, and Thorn wished that she'd had better timing than visiting right now. He watched as Inky looked from her bloodied hand to his painting, then back at him. Thorn's blood had mixed with the ink on her hand, a strange alchemy of sorts. Horrified, he watched her grey eyes go blank; and she abruptly hit the hard tile floor- falling backwards with a resounding, loud crack. Oh no- Inky, he thought, the panic rising. She'd gone unconscious with no warning, and had hit her head on the unforgiving tile. He hadn't been standing close enough to her to prevent her fall- and he hoped she hadn't injured herself- or worse. I can't lose you now...
   Checking her pulse briefly to make sure she was still alive, his panic slowly lessened. She'd hit her head fairly hard- but there were no external indications of blood or broken bones. Thorn didn't want to attempt to move her; she may possibly have gotten a concussion- and though he'd taken anatomy and first-aid classes, his mind was drawing a blank on what to do for a head injury. He went into the next room, bandaging the cut on his arm with a length of white gauze. He grabbed a glass of water and some aspirin for when Inky regained consciousness; restlessly pacing around the room, talking to himself. "I did what had to be done- what more do you want from me? I don't want to have to do it again," he muttered in protest.
   Hearing Inky's voice again was a relief- Thorn looked over at her, startled; at first unaware she'd asked him a question. "What are you talking about?" Her eyes looked unfocused, and Thorn blamed himself for being so utterly useless in his sleep-deprived state. "I- you passed out. I think you might have a concussion." He handed her the glass of water, watching as she sipped at it tentatively. "Here. Take this-" he instructed, giving her the bottle of aspirin. Inky shook two round white tablets of aspirin out onto her hand, staring at them briefly before taking them with the water. She made a face, shaking her head slightly. "I was afraid you weren't going to come back...this time," Thorn told her, hearing the strange desperation in his own voice- an unfamiliar feeling. It's not just an obsession, you were worried she was going to die. He carefully observed Inky as she slowly looked around the room again. "I did what I had to do- to keep them away again," he explained vaguely. She looked up at him, eyes still hazy.
   Thorn couldn't stop himself from staring blatantly at her this time; and Inky's eyes met his, once more connecting with the same magnetic feeling from the last time they'd met. It was almost painfully obvious now- he had felt so alone and incomplete his entire life; until he'd met Inky. She stood up shakily and walked over to him, holding out her hand. His body seemed to act on its own accord, and he watched as his fingers locked around her wrist. He felt darkly possessive, and wanted her to stay here with him in the dark building- even if it meant giving up a part of himself.
   "Is something the matter?" Inky asked, her voice wavering slightly. Thorn wasn't sure how to reply; he didn't want to scare her away now. Not after everything they'd already had to endure because of the Red Void... "I don't want to hurt you, Inky. You look so fragile- like you'll break," he confessed, staring at her longingly. Thorn knew that this wasn't the case- she was resilient despite all appearances; had a stronger mental fortitude than anyone else who'd encountered the void. He truly respected her for this, as most had been driven to insanity almost instantly- except for Inky. In her own quiet way, she'd kept the demons away from his mind as well- since meeting her, he had been forced to feel something besides his dark impulses for the first time in his life.
   He noticed how close to each other they were standing, and he took her other hand in his, pulling her closer, closing the distance between them. Thorn was worried she would push him away; she was shaking, almost as though fearful. "I'm so afraid, but I'm not afraid of you," Inky admitted. "Not anymore- I was wrong." Thorn stared at her with dark intent in his eyes, unable to contain the impure thoughts in his mind that involved her. "Maybe you should be," he warned quietly, but Inky shook her head in disagreement.
   A late springtime storm had started outside, the wind whipping through the branches of the trees, rain pouring onto the rooftop with no prior warning of its arrival. Low thunder rolled ominously through the dark sky; and the lightning that followed violently lit up the building, shaking its foundation. Thorn briefly caught the glimpse of something strange in Inky's eyes- she looked at him like nobody had before.