Sequel: Unknown Calling ›
Calling Carter.
He was evil
“Silah, when I tell you this, please, please don’t judge me. I know we’re really good friends but this is a strange story, so I hope you won’t hate me for my past. I think Layny can tell the story from the beginning, she knows that part better.”
I nodded in understanding, completely forgetting that Carter was being really weird and rude. I “subtly” turned my back on him and faced Layny, trying to make myself comfortable.
“When Carter was very young, and I was only just out of medical school, I was on my way home one night when I heard screaming coming from the woods nearby.” She began quietly.
The woods were so dark. Nothing could be seen. But the terrified cries continued, begging for help, for the pain to stop. Why was he doing this to her? What had she done? He was so incredibly angry.
Against my will I stopped for a split second, purely to make sure the tragedy I was witnessing was real. The man stood over her, face twisted into a thick mask of hatred and disgust. His hand rose and fell, rose and fell, a vicious tide with her blood echoing the metaphor gruesomely. Her screams were slowly turning into plaintive cries, as she resigned herself to her fate.
He had not seen me. Neither of them had. But I could not bear to see it any longer, not when I had been trained to heal wounds like this. I saw a rock I had narrowly missed tripping over earlier… And as I picked it up, every value I had in me screamed against what I was about to do. My head rang with the force of it.
I held the rock high above my head, ready to smash it down on him at the right time. But I saw her wide grey eyes and bruised face and bleeding mouth, and then my eyes dropped lower. I now understood the jumbled pleas that tumbled out of her mouth, flowing nearly as fast as her blood.
“Not my baby.” Again and again, one single plea, the only thing she begged for.
Her terror was not for herself, but for her unborn child. And that’s when I knew that I had to stop this man, even kill him to protect this girl. I was not calm as I lifted the rock once again, even higher this time. Is it wrong to say I wanted him to suffer a little more? I cannot say. But I did. I brought the stone down upon his skull, at the base, where it could have broken his neck.
He slowly crumpled, twisting as he hit the ground. His final blow to the girl weakened and was barely a touch against her skin. Her eyes widened further and she scrambled away from him, crying out in pain as she did so, but still continuing to move. I dropped the stone in horror and stepped away from the man’s still body.
I bent and attempted to carry her away, but knew I was not strong enough. I settled for half supporting, half dragging her through the dark trees. As I bent to get her in a more comfortable position, I looked back. I do not know why. They say you should never look back. His head was lying at a strange angle, and I do not know if he was dead or alive. God forgive me, I did not check; I wished him dead.
His eyes. I will never again see something so innately terrifying in my life. I had thought his face expressed hatred before, but they hadn’t. Now, they did. They were not black pits of decaying evil, nor were they glowing red beacons of demonic possession. No.
His eyes were a pleasant, if overly bright, sky blue.
I should not have looked back. I fought back a scream of my own as I hastened to get us away. I tried to help her move but I could not bear to cause her more pain. Once she felt we were far enough away, she looked at me hopelessly, and I understood. She could not go on. Her injuries were too much for her body to heal.
She placed a broken, bleeding hand on my own, whimpering with the effort. “Save her.” She pleaded.
I would do anything for the look in those eyes. Promise the world to ensure this girl died in peace. And, in a way, I guess I did. I saved the child, even though it caused her even more pain. She did not scream during the birth. It was not her most painful experience.
When it was over I cleaned the child up as best I could and I showed the girl her healthy, tiny baby daughter. A single tear fell down her cheek at the sight of a heart-shaped bruise on the child’s back.
Kala’s first sight was her mother’s face, shining with blood and tears. Grey eyes watched grey eyes and then her mother smiled at me, hardly daring to believe that this miracle had survived amidst the abuse. “Thank you,” she whispered to me. “I love you, Kala.” She breathed quietly.
Those were the first, last and only words Kala would hear her mother say.
I nodded in understanding, completely forgetting that Carter was being really weird and rude. I “subtly” turned my back on him and faced Layny, trying to make myself comfortable.
“When Carter was very young, and I was only just out of medical school, I was on my way home one night when I heard screaming coming from the woods nearby.” She began quietly.
The woods were so dark. Nothing could be seen. But the terrified cries continued, begging for help, for the pain to stop. Why was he doing this to her? What had she done? He was so incredibly angry.
Against my will I stopped for a split second, purely to make sure the tragedy I was witnessing was real. The man stood over her, face twisted into a thick mask of hatred and disgust. His hand rose and fell, rose and fell, a vicious tide with her blood echoing the metaphor gruesomely. Her screams were slowly turning into plaintive cries, as she resigned herself to her fate.
He had not seen me. Neither of them had. But I could not bear to see it any longer, not when I had been trained to heal wounds like this. I saw a rock I had narrowly missed tripping over earlier… And as I picked it up, every value I had in me screamed against what I was about to do. My head rang with the force of it.
I held the rock high above my head, ready to smash it down on him at the right time. But I saw her wide grey eyes and bruised face and bleeding mouth, and then my eyes dropped lower. I now understood the jumbled pleas that tumbled out of her mouth, flowing nearly as fast as her blood.
“Not my baby.” Again and again, one single plea, the only thing she begged for.
Her terror was not for herself, but for her unborn child. And that’s when I knew that I had to stop this man, even kill him to protect this girl. I was not calm as I lifted the rock once again, even higher this time. Is it wrong to say I wanted him to suffer a little more? I cannot say. But I did. I brought the stone down upon his skull, at the base, where it could have broken his neck.
He slowly crumpled, twisting as he hit the ground. His final blow to the girl weakened and was barely a touch against her skin. Her eyes widened further and she scrambled away from him, crying out in pain as she did so, but still continuing to move. I dropped the stone in horror and stepped away from the man’s still body.
I bent and attempted to carry her away, but knew I was not strong enough. I settled for half supporting, half dragging her through the dark trees. As I bent to get her in a more comfortable position, I looked back. I do not know why. They say you should never look back. His head was lying at a strange angle, and I do not know if he was dead or alive. God forgive me, I did not check; I wished him dead.
His eyes. I will never again see something so innately terrifying in my life. I had thought his face expressed hatred before, but they hadn’t. Now, they did. They were not black pits of decaying evil, nor were they glowing red beacons of demonic possession. No.
His eyes were a pleasant, if overly bright, sky blue.
I should not have looked back. I fought back a scream of my own as I hastened to get us away. I tried to help her move but I could not bear to cause her more pain. Once she felt we were far enough away, she looked at me hopelessly, and I understood. She could not go on. Her injuries were too much for her body to heal.
She placed a broken, bleeding hand on my own, whimpering with the effort. “Save her.” She pleaded.
I would do anything for the look in those eyes. Promise the world to ensure this girl died in peace. And, in a way, I guess I did. I saved the child, even though it caused her even more pain. She did not scream during the birth. It was not her most painful experience.
When it was over I cleaned the child up as best I could and I showed the girl her healthy, tiny baby daughter. A single tear fell down her cheek at the sight of a heart-shaped bruise on the child’s back.
Kala’s first sight was her mother’s face, shining with blood and tears. Grey eyes watched grey eyes and then her mother smiled at me, hardly daring to believe that this miracle had survived amidst the abuse. “Thank you,” she whispered to me. “I love you, Kala.” She breathed quietly.
Those were the first, last and only words Kala would hear her mother say.
♠ ♠ ♠
EEE!! my favourite chapter so far! XDI am SO sorry for not updating before, but as you may have heard, my computer did not love me. I really hope this chapter is helping make up for the wait, especially since i was updating every day (and sometimes twice a day) before. the italics part is Layny's story told in a way that i thought would make it more intense. did it work? But yeah. new update will follow shortly! yay!
haha.
AND ALSO< AS PROMISED>
a giant thankyou to my readers and commenters!
> loverfayce
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>xx.disaster.xx
>truthincliche
>Peircy
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and anyone else who i awesome for reading but haven't actually commented. :)