HAUNTED
fourteen

14

She started feeling bad for her earlier behaviour, “that’s how you treat one of our creations,” Jacob said to her when they finally caught up. John went to get his hidden key to the place.

“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do,” she said lowly, “he was going to hit me and walk all over me because I am a girl. That’s not fair at all.”

“He wasn’t. It was a test.”

“Test?”

“Yeah, to see if it is really us. That was really you. You were mean. What did I ever see in you?” he teased.

“I’m sorry,” she remembered, all that mattered. Everything that cut her soul and not just her long gone brain of that time.

“For what,” he asked concerned.

“Forcing this outcome because of my change the world rubbish,” she walked away from him not wanting to talk anymore. She walked to John who was unlocking the door to the house, “I’m sorry, I let my anger take the best of Me.” she said to him.

He opened the door, “submission from the conqueror of the known world.”

“no, not submission,” she said as she walked in ahead of him, “it’s an apology you should try it sometime,” she teased and he kept a straight face.

Jacob followed a moment later and shut the door behind him. “Can you cure me?” John asked her not Jacob.

“You mean kill you,” Jacob said a little distant.

“I don’t know,” she responded, “yet. Maybe I might remember more.”

“Only if you cared to cure us in that life. The soul remembers, defining memories and the mind just remembers the usual. You are both so close now because your souls have been inseparable for the greater part of history. So if you only remember smooching him then we are at loss because everything else was not important or did not impact you deeply.”

“I don’t just remember smooching him,” she avoided Jacobs glare, “I remember, war, destruction, wings, rivers of blood lost, screams, human screams, my own,” she took a breath, “how I died,” she looked at Jacob, “it wasn’t your fault, you were right.”

“How?”

“We had a fight. A major one on a boat, about how power was getting to me… you were right about that. You said all I wanted was more power, you were wrong,” John took a seat on his brown leather seat. Jacob remained standing listening to her, “you asked me chose between returning to Rome and,” she zoned out the memory like vivid illusion in front of her eyes.

“Disappear with me,” he said on deck cupping her face with his hands. She didn’t answer, “was this all for power,” he let her go disappointed, “you never loved me, you just wanted the virus, didn’t you?! How could I have been so stupid? All this time,” he looked hurt, she hated that look in his eyes. He turned away and started walking.

“Jacob,” she called, he stopped.

“Lex, you can’t keep using me. I can’t take it anymore,” he didn’t turn back to her. And she saw it, a thick sharp ended object piercing through the fog. She was close enough... it cut right through… he was saved that’s all that mattered, released a light whimper, he turned… it all got blurry. She could see him hover, frantic, taking her below deck there had to be something he had to fix her…

“Lex,” Jacob walked towards her.

“You say that too much,” John said with a sigh. Jacob didn’t pay attention to his comment.

“Then what did you want?” she blinked a few times and caught his concerned gaze.

You, she thought and turned around to avoid his gaze. Walking to the kitchen, “so what are we doing here?”

“I have been keeping something of his forever now,” John said as he followed her to the kitchen.

“I’m really thirsty. Do you have anything to drink,” Jacob asked.

“Yeah in the fridge,” he said as the old man took a seat on the sixties style dining table and sighed.

“Should I get something for you,” he asked John.

“Sure,” he responded. She took a seat at the same table. Then there was silence between them.

“Water or orange juice or milk,” Jacob asked with his head in the fridge.

“Water,” they both responded and shared a momentary poker face gaze.

He took a seat and dumped three bottles of water on the table. “What have you been keeping for me?”

“A funky gismo,” he responded.

“Do you know what it is for,” Lex asked.

The old man shrugged. “You just said to keep it and you would grant me freedom.”

“Freedom?”

“He wants me to kill him,” Jacob clarified for Lex.

“Okay,” she said callously, “why?”

“Because,” Old John slumped in his seat, “I am tired of watching people I love die. I need it to end. I cut my wings off hoping… when Rose died, but all I did was start aging. So I thought finally, death will come but instead I have been aging so incredibly slow since then. First it was losing you two, then Rose, then Charlotte, my son Joseph, my daughter Sarah… the list is endless. It’s time to end this.”

“Makes sense.”

“You won’t die if I cure you first,” Jacob interjected.

“OH… to be young and wishful,” John said sarcastically.

“Son and daughter did they have the gene,” Jacob asked quickly.

“If they did, it didn’t have time to develop,” he looked sad Lex reached for his hand across the table and he looked at her puzzled, “the monarchy found me and decapitated them told the village that they were witches and wizards. I had to watch their bodies’ burn on a stake. You people made the queen you know that right?”

“She wanted to kill you but she killed me instead,” Lex looked at Jacob briefly.

“Then she left with rest of your generals.” There was a short moment of silence.

“Can I see the gismo,” Jacob asked, “please.”

John took a breath and stood up, leaving them in the kitchen. “Cure,” Lex mumbled feeling like she was forgetting something.

“It could be an immune trait. Just something that can solve the virus. Eliminate it, and shift gene backwards,” he sighed and gulped down some water, “if that’s possible.

“He is aging so the gene can be shifted clearly,” he nodded. “Only in the originals the ones after, its death or immortality.”

“so what are you really,” she really was curious, “he is an original avian I remember what they were like and what the spuds afterwards were like, all about energy and shape shifting in a way, murderous raging monsters. Are you like that.”

“Really,” he began to wonder what she saw him as.

“I mean, some of the logical ones could control it except when their brains expanded during the full moon. You once told me, then they would rage no matter what.”

“Most that I know can now control that… at times.”

“Are you one of them?”

“No… yes… not entirely,” he answered, “I’m not exactly sure where I stand in this. Both my parents are. They were once human and someone turned them. When my aunt, the sun, was still human she sparked some kind of weird energy in my mother it leaked to my father then bam, here I am… it wasn’t that instant though.”

“That should make you avian,” she answered.

“I’m more human, except for the worping thing, I have to concentrate to heighten my senses,” she finished off her water and stood up.

“That’s not human Jake,” she looked through the fridge for something more solid to eat. “Do you age?”

“I did,” he sighed, “not in a while.”

“How long,” she asked.

“About a year,” he said, “mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,” she checked the cupboards and found loads of cereal boxes. Rain began to pour again.

“How much do you remember?”

“Not much just shadows and flashes,” she found a bowl, “want some?” she poured some milk in a bowl with cereal.

“I’m okay,” he stood up and walked to her, “is that it?”

“Yep, you?”

“Give me your hand,” he ordered.

“Why,” she asked awkwardly.

“So I can remember what you remember,” he held his hand out, “I only seem to remember when...”

She placed her hand in his, he took a breath… his hands were dripping red, she was barely awake… his eyes flung open.

“Do you still want to remember,” his grip on her hand tightened and she saw the hurt, the same hurt in the memory. He saw all she had seen, more detail of her death than he had before. His gaze on her didn’t break, she walked round the small counter his hand still in hers. His gaze followed.

“Jacob,” she waved her other hand in front of his face. He didn’t respond. A tear ran down his cheek. The lightening outside thundered. She placed her palm to his cheek and wiped it away with her thumb…

He blinked and sniffled a bit, “um,” he suddenly moved away from her. “I know how to … um,” swallow, “… save him. I hope it’s still the same.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, and I remembered what the gismo does… sort off.”

“How can we save him?”

“Your blood,” she looked puzzled, “you were immune. I hope it’s still the same.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It might be now because of your soul’s energy.” He stood up and walked to a cupboard and pulled out a metal case. He laid it on the table, in thought and pulled out a small plastic with a needle in it, an empty syringe, “do you mind if I have a look?”

“Not a fan of those,” she fringed.

“You will hardly feel a thing,” he smiled, “I’ll be careful.”

“Okay, to help put John out of his misery,” she gave up her arm.

With it held out, he tenderly took hold of her wrist, stroked the inside of her wrist with his thumb a bit, noticing odd looking scars up her arm.

“What?” she asked concerned by his frozen state, “Did you remember more?”

He put the syringe down and traced the scars with his fingers. He had that hurt look that made tears threaten to rise in her that made her heart crack. “Why would you?”

“I didn’t,” she jerked her arm away.

“What did your aunt do to you,” he looked right at her, she looked away.

“Let’s not talk about it, okay,” she stood up, “I’m going to take a shower, you can study my blood afterwards… mad scientist…” she teased and walked out. Head right for the shower without looking back or saying another word.

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