Beyond Nocturne Ch. 07

Her Michael was going to die.

She screamed and summoned all her pain, all her hate, all her anger and leapt at the creature. She shot off like a bullet and ran the swords deep into it's back, clear up to the hilt. Her momentum carried them both up and out through the window and into the darkness. A hail of broken glass and wood clattered to the ground as Lydia withdrew her blades and landed on her feet with a feline grace. The creature however landed hard against a cedar tree. She could hear bones snap as it hit and fell to the ground.

She watched it stand up and lunge for her. She jumped out of the way and began slicing at it, her focus burning with rage and searing her heart. Its claws lashed out and caught her left arm. She screamed and released the blade as it spun her around by her arm. It released her and sent her flying into the wall of the cabin. Wood splintered and gave way under the force of the impact, but stopped her momentum. She fell to the ground and scrambled. A strong hand grasped her shoulder and lifted her up and over. Her claws unsheathed and she struck its face, going for the eyes. She brought her remaining blade up and made to strike, but the creature was too quick. It swung her around and smashed her arm into a tree. Lydia cried out as the bones in her right forearm shattered and the other blade fell to the ground.

"Lydia," it hissed as it brought her face to within an inch away from it's own horrible countenance.

"Please, Steven," she reasoned, "I know I was wrong..."

"KILL," it spat at her, "YOU!"

It changed its grip to her neck and began squeezing. Even with her incredible strength, she was unable to break free of the monster's hold. Its claws were deep into her neck now, stabbing at her, creating a pain she never knew existed through her body. Her head felt like it was ready to explode, her eyes crisscrossing with broken blood vessels. She could feel her body going numb as she resigned herself to the inevitable. She recalled the night she had met Steven, how kind a gentle he had been. How trusting he had been. No matter what Michael may have said, she was guilty of murder. Now she was paying the price.

***

Maricel crawled out from under her bed slowly. She hated herself for the fear that had driven under the bed at the last minute. She pulled herself out and sat up to see Michael lying motionless on the bed. The patchwork quilt was soaked with blood. She could hear weak gurgles and bubbling hissing coming from his exposed throat and chest. The creature has slashed him open, revealing the underlying framework of his pectorals and throat. Michaels' eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as he slowly bled to death.

Maricel sat next to him and looked out the hole in the wall where the window used to be. There was no sign of Lydia or the creature as she quickly glanced around. She could hear them struggling in shadows somwhere, and fought the urge to go help. Instead, she turned to Michael. She placed a hand on his open wound. The raw muscle and tissue was hot against her hand, wet and primal. She could feel his lungs straining beneath his rib cage. Bubbles of blood formed over small holes in his throat as crimson liquid trickled from his mouth.

She cursed herself as the thirst began to rise, aroused by all the blood. Even now, it would give her no rest, no distance from it's evil. She looked away as she fought off the urges to feast, to drink. They were so powerful as she clenched her fists tight, the knuckles turning white with rage. Her fangs were ready and sharp in her mouth, and she felt the same sexual excitement that had seduced her into killing Tiffany and Missy. Maricel licked her lips, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No."

She looked at Michael once more, the urge to feed was now raging like a fever inside her, burning her with such a pleasure and promise of fulfillment. Her eyes darted to his exposed neck, the fresh blood leaking away and wasted. She brought her hand from his wounded chest and to her mouth. She extended one bloody index finger and held it hair's width from her lips. She could smell his essence, his vitality. He was sweet and potent, and so very, very rich.

"Michael," she said suddenly, her chest heaving up and down, on the edge of temptation.

"Michael," she whispered again and closed her eyes, putting her hand back to his chest and calming herself. She felt a new power rising up from within her, somehow clouding the thirst and pushing it aside. No, it wasn't pushing it aside, it was changing it. It was the other side of the thirst, the hope and healing that came as a companion to the despair and death of the virus. It was luminous and blinding in her mind as the rolling blackness of the thirst parted and gave way to this undeniable new clarity. It was so beautiful.

She recalled how Lydia had healed Michael once, cured him of his injuries when they fought the creature in the alley behind the museum. She remembered the miraculous regeneration Michael had undergone, and suddenly understood. For all the death and evil the virus brought forth, it also had to have an opposite to balance out. Everything in life had to have a balance in order to function; men and women, good and evil, night and day, God and the Devil... This was Lydia's gift to her. This was what Lydia had felt when she saved her that night from Larry Crispin and when she saved Michael from Steven.

Her whole life had been wasted on herself, and now Maricel had a chance to save a life, to give something back. She summoned her love, all the good things in her life she could think of and focused on Michael, trying to let free her feelings of gratitude towards him.

Michael's body spasmed as the power left her body and flooded into his. Maricel was nowhere near as disciplined as Lydia when it came to this part of it, so when the connection between their minds was established, she was shaken by the agony of his body and mind. The tears flowing from her eyes turned to blood as she put pressure on his grievous wounds and tried to heal him.

"Lydia loves you so much, Michael," she said as she brought her body to his, pulling him close. She lay beside him, holding him as she spoke, "I love you for your kindness... please stay with us..."

Maricel felt a sudden rush of power leave her body and surge into Michael. She jolted, her hips bucking as though caught in an orgasm. Her mouth was wide open, eyes closed tight as she felt the pain be lifted from his body and laid on her. She cried out as the skin on her chest began to tear open. The skin split and pulled away, gushing blood onto them both as Michael's wounds began to heal. Maricel fought through the pain, holding onto her sanity with all her heart as her neck split open. The pain began to blind her.

"Michael," she cried, "Please..."

In spite of pain, Maricel did something she had never done before in her life. She turned her face towards heaven and begged God for strength, for courage.

She was not done yet.

***

The creature's hydraulic-like grip was crushing her windpipe. It wouldn't be long now. If she could have, Lydia would have laughed at the irony. Her own creation, the monster that had been Steven Wolverton, was killing her. She supposed it was fair enough. She had taken an innocent life, and now that innocent was here to take hers. Eye for an eye and such.

'How clichéd,' she thought dryly.

"Kill me," she managed, "Spare my friends..."

"NO," it gurgled, tightening its grip. Lydia entered the final stages of her suffocation as her body began to convulse, her choking becoming rapid and stunted. In a last ditch effort she vainly tried to reach out with her mind and attack, as she had done Larry Crispin in what seemed like an eternity ago. But it was no use. She couldn't focus.

Lydia thought of Michael and their time together as her vision began to fade out, the laughter and the love they had shared. She felt if she were going to die, then she would rather see her lover's face than this monstrosity.

Lydia let her mind slip away.

And then it happened.

From behind the creature came a loud, defiant scream and there was the unmistakable muffled sound of a silencer equipped Uzi being fired. The creature howled and staggered back, releasing Lydia. She fell to the ground once more in a tangled heap as a hail of bullets racked the creature. Black blood showered her as its body was pounded by round after round after round. The silencer on the Uzi hissed and thudded quietly as Maricel pulled the trigger and did not let go.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, desperately trying to control the weapon. The gun finally fired its last bullet and ran dry. Maricel looked at the creature, which still stood, wobbling on shaking legs and bleeding to death. The Uzi fell to the ground, hissing and steaming against the cool morning air. The sky was turning a bluish-pink again as the sun prepared to rise. Maricel stood defiantly before the creature, which regarded her with a curious, shocked expression.

Maricel picked up one of Lydia's blades, felt the weight of it and grasped the handle with both hands. She closed her eyes, and thought of the creatures inside her, the rape, Larry Crispin and her whole life in general. She thought of the kindness Michael had shown her, the tragedy of her friends Tiffany and Missy and the damnation of Lydia. She took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could, her voice breaking and cracking as she lunged forward. The sword plunged into the creature's belly and Maricel actually began driving it backwards. Gore spewed out from the wounds as she pushed the creature into a tree. The blade drove into the soft wood and lodged there, pinning the monster like an insect to a piece of cardboard. It looked dumbly at the sword lodged in its stomach and then at Maricel.

"I'm sorry, Steven," she said quietly, her face streaked with tears and blood.

Maricel turned away, and as she felt the burning of the approaching sun she knew what she must do. She grabbed Lydia and picked her up carefully, walking back into the cabin as fast as she could go. She hurried past the destroyed living room and through the shattered kitchen. The creature, leaving only three undamaged, had destroyed most of the blood packs in the fridge. Maricel grabbed them as they passed. She kicked the door to the basement open and went down the stairs. A few times, she thought she was going to trip and fall, killing them both. She made it down to the bottom and flipped on the light.

Lydia was in bad shape, but already healing.

"Are you going to be okay?" Maricel asked as she propped her friend up against the dirty wall.

"I think so," she whispered and then looked at blood covering Maricel, "What happened to you?"

"Don't worry," she reassured her, "Michael is okay too. Just knocked out."

"I saw him get slashed..."

"He's going to be okay," Maricel smiled through her tears as she placed the blood packs next to Lydia, "Use these now, Lydia."

"I'm so sorry," Lydia cried, her hand touching Maricel's face, "I'm sorry."

"You saved me Lydia," Maricel looked down, "I forget that sometimes, but you saved me. You gave me a gift... and I'm using that gift now."

"It's not a gift," Lydia shook her head, "It's a curse."

Maricel smiled and leaned forward. She gently kissed Lydia on the forehead and lingered for only a moment. She smiled, "It's what you make of it."

"You're a brave woman, Maricel," Lydia said.

"I learned from the best," she smiled.

Lydia looked to her suddenly. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"There's not much time Lydia..."

"What is it?"

Maricel looked down. "Larry Crispin impregnated me, Lydia. Steven changed the baby inside, and now there are going to be a lot of babies in there..."

"Oh no..."

"If they get out," Maricel choked, more tears falling from her eyes and mixing with the blood streaks on her cheeks.

"No," Lydia shook her head, trying to deny the truth but couldn't as she touched her friend's expanding belly. She could feel the creatures within her, squirming and kicking against her uterine wall. Maricel flinched as they violently scrambled about inside her. They had been perverted and twisted into small versions of their father. Lydia wept, "No..."

"It's not your fault," she said, "Don't you dare carry this with you any further than today."

"I am so sorry," Lydia looked at her.

"Thank you, Lydia," Maricel smiled.

"Thank you," Lydia hugged her tightly, knowing that this would be the last time they were going to speak. Suddenly, they both were jolted as they realized that the creature almost free of it's impalement. Maricel looked up and knew it was time. She left Lydia there in the basement, and with Lydia she entrusted the best parts of herself. It was time.

Lydia watched her friend leave, her heart heavy and wounded as she opened a blood pack and drank from it like one does after being without water for two days. She could hear footsteps in the kitchen above as Maricel hurried away, small plumes of dust falling to the ground, marking her progress. Her heart broke as the footsteps faded and Maricel was gone, still out of her telepathic reach somehow.

Lydia felt the creature outside, still alive and recovering, albeit slowly. It was in pain from the rising sun, and Lydia felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow and guilt for it as it started to burn, still struggling to free itself.

"Goodbye, Maricel," she said softly as she closed her eyes and sought an absolution. She added quietly, "Goodbye Steven..."

***

Maricel stepped out of the cabin and into the dawning light. It immediately began to singe her skin, and she had to fight the urge to go back inside. She worked her way over to the creature, still writhing and pinned to the tree. Curls of smoke were slowly rising from both their bodies as she crossed the lawn to what remained of Steven Wolverton. A shiny glimmer caught her eye and she stooped down. From out of the grass she found Lydia's other blade. She held it firmly and gritted her teeth as the ultra-violet light from the sun began to crest the ridge of Mount Shasta.

"Steven," Maricel said firmly as she felt a deep pain all over her flesh. She almost doubled over as she stood before the creature, her skin beginning to flame in places. It was almost over. Inside her, the babies were growing faster and faster. Her stomach was now protruding out as though she were eight months along, painfully bloated and ready to burst.

The creature took a swing with its remaining arm and missed as its claws hissed through the air. Maricel raised the blade and with all her strength struck it, severing the arm. The bloody stump pumped the black blood out in heavy, sickening spurts as the dead limb fell to the ground. Green flames were igniting on it hulking alien body as the first ray of sunlight broke over the horizon and shot down through the trees. The lake began to shimmer and sparkle as the sun rose into the sky.

Maricel cried out as her skin burned to ash and blew away, whirling and floating in the morning air. She plunged the blade into the creature's body, pinning it again and insuring that there would be no escape. She closed her eyes and embraced the creature as they were engulfed in a brilliant pillar of green and blue flames that reached high into the air. She embraced the creature, not to hold him from escape, but for the simple comfort she felt was owed to Steven. She could feel his soul inside this monster's body, begging for release. She embraced Steven in the flames as they burned, helping to ease his pain as they crossed over to what lies beyond nightmares and dreams, beyond nocturne.

Maricel felt a final fleeting sense of pain as her hair fell away along with the last of her clothes and skin. There was the ethereal sensation of being lifted away that reminded her of riding the big roller coasters with her father when she was six. She felt small and insignificant, and yet somehow larger than she had just been. She felt the creatures inside slipping away, consumed in the fire, mewling and screeching as they died.

And then, she and Stephen were gone.

Maricel rested.

***

Michael watched the last of the supernatural flames die down and disappear into the white smoke billowing from the charred remains of Maricel and his brother. He cautiously stepped out onto the lawn, his chest and throat aching from the wounds Maricel had healed. She had saved his life, and he felt very sure that just before she died she had somehow saved his brother's life. He walked slowly across the lawn.

"God bless them," he prayed, looking at the two smoldering ruins.

The air was thick with the glowing embers of their destroyed bodies. Michael found the sight morbid and yet, there was a certain sense of beauty and finality to it he could not ignore. The embers glowed as the smoke cleared, rising up from the two skeletons pinned against the tree. The larger skeleton was blackened and monstrous, it's skull overly large, the jaw gaped open and attached only by the few charred sinews that remained. The smaller skeleton was embracing the larger one, the bones white in places but mostly burned. On the ground beneath Maricel's remains were several burned lumps, twisted and unrecognizable. Michael thought maybe they were organs, something that fell out during the burning.

"What the fuck?" he whispered, kneeling down. He poked at them with a stick, turning them over. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he was seeing, and then it dawned on him. As one of blackened lumps turned over, he could make out a malformed face and a set of arms. Michael jumped back, falling on his ass.

"Shit!" he shouted, scrambling back, "Holy shit. She was fucking pregnant?"

He counted seven altogether as he stood over the remains of Maricel and Steven's offspring. He muttered, "Thank God they died with them..."

Michael turned and went back into the house, searching for Lydia. He looked in the bedrooms, the living room, the bathroom and the kitchen. He began to lose hope as he turned to the basement door. He grasped the handle and stopped, suddenly uncertain as to whether or not he wanted to know. If Lydia wasn't down there, then she was dead. There was nowhere else to hide. He closed his eyes and opened the door.

"I can't do this if she's gone," he whispered and looked into the basement. It was sickeningly quiet.

He slowly walked down the stairs and found Lydia sitting on the floor of the basement, bloody, dirty and unmoving. Michael fought back tears as he neared her, his boots crunching the dirt beneath the soles. He knelt by her and put one hand to her shoulder, touching her as though she might break if was too rough.

"Lydia?" he asked softly and tilted her chin up. "Lydia talk to me..."

Lydia's eyes fluttered and opened. She smiled weakly. "What took you so long?"

"Maricel saved me," he whispered as he kissed her gently.

"She saved me too," Lydia hugged him and pulled him close.

There was a moment of silence between them.

Lydia smiled and buried her face in his neck. The thirst did not rise, nor did she worry about biting him. She simply loved him.

***

ONE WEEK LATER

"Newspapers reported that my cabin was destroyed by arsonists," Michael said as he handed the paper to Lydia from across the diner table.

She looked at the third page article of the Redding Record Searchlight and saw the black and white photograph of the charred cabin. Fire crews and police were surrounding it, looking official and on the ball as they surveyed the burnt out dwelling. Michael had lit the cabin on fire the moment they left, leaving Steven and Maricel's remains inside. They had left that very night after the attack, not wanting to hang around too long lest they be questioned by the authorities. They had been able to salvage most of the guns, ammunition and supplies before they left.