The First Touch (6 page)

His
tears began to fall as he tasted the blood in his mouth and the feeling of her washed through him. He crumbled next to her body
, his hand pressed against the wound, that he had just inflicted,
as he
called out, “Oh god no!” He knew then that he had mad
e a mistake, she was the one....
Autumn could no longer determine where her body was, it was so easy to forget it all...but his eyes...

Her life flashed before hi
s eyes in a matter of seconds. Then h
is eyes returned to their human state as he looked at her truly for the first time. His
words,
came out desperate and pleading, “Autumn open your eyes ...
Autumn
…
please...please.” He knew that she was already too far-gone; her heart was already so slow, though he refused to give in to it.

He saw
the beauty of her soul
,
which once
tasted,
he
embodied in an instant. I
f he had not ripped her throat out, maybe
s
he could have had a chance
.
Nevertheless,
his anger, no his
stupidity
had stepped
in the way. How could he have known
? H
e should have looked into her eyes and seen. He should have watched closer
,
seen more.

He lifted her into his arms wrapping her tightly
,
and whispering fiercely into her ear, “I am so sorry love...” She shuddered one last time, as her heart finally stopped pumping and she faded away peacefully. His breath ripped from his lips as his mate, his one and only, died in arms, at his hands, his scream blew the windows out of the building...his pain unmistakable.

Wake Up

When
A
utumn
opened her eyes again,
she was sta
ring at herself in the mirror, h
er hand
s still mechanically washing
themselves in the bathroom of the coffee shop. She looked at the familiar shinny green tiles on the wall
s
trying desperately to connect back to reality. Her heart was still racing from the flash and she held her hand up to her neck inspecting it for damage
carefully. Relief flooded
her as she reali
zed that she wasn’t dead. Smiling ruefully, she tried to slow
her breathing
, as she returned to the here and now
.

If she had not been having these epis
odes for some time, she was certain
that she would have run from the bathroom screaming and trying to
pull her eyeballs
out of their sockets. However, this was not her first time seeing th
e outcomes.
Another facet of her change she guessed
.

S
he had many
dreams that had frightened her
, and now these
,
well,
t
hey were dark, scary, and prophetic in nature. Eventually though
,
she accepted them as a part of who she was
,
keeping
her out of harms way, for the most part
anyhow
. They
were not always so clear. W
hen they had first started,
they were bits of a puzzle that she had to piece together. Mostly she went
off the feeling that she had from them
to determine if she should be concerned
, or not
.

Surprisingly, she took the next steps from dreams to visions as a logical progres
sion. This seemed a natural out
growth, one that she had dreamt about in pieces, night after night
, and in truth,
a month before
it
happened.
A fact that had she been paying attention she probably could have changed things, that afternoon
, when doom
had struck.
A thought that had bitterly held on to her, clinging to her
in fact even now reminding her what not listening would get her,
Death
. Now it
was simply,
her own private hell
, all wrapped in a neat little package
, her thumping noggin, waiting to explode, and
as much as she wanted to go back and change things even she could not.

At first
,
she thought that the visions where written in stone, well at least she had hoped that was how they worked. However, slowly over time and much to her dismay, the
se
possibilities came about, over time, proving it otherw
ise. Things like today, she
knew if she changed her actions then his reactions would change as w
ell
and maybe today
,
saving her life
in the process
.

Now
adays
she listened to everything that she saw
,
and paid heed to all of the possible outcomes
of her actions
. She did not make the same mistakes twice
, no matter how crazy it seemed
. She was not going to back down from the challenge
,
not like before.

T
he progression
of the visions
was not always convenient though, changing
from
times of stress
,
to visions when she was her most calm
without warning
, both of which were problematic. Blanking out at the moments when she needed to be the most on top of
things was
challenging
, even once
while
she was being mugged
it occurred, causing her to black out
. Although that one did end up turning out well, the
mugger thought she was insane
, and h
e dropped her bag in the alley a few feet behind her
.
Yelling something like,
“Crazy bitch,”
and then running
off
without taking a dime
.

This
newest development of calm visions now resulted in less embarrassing moments, especially since she was the most comfortable when she was alone
, but it too had it’s complications. Presenting
her with
a new set of dangers
,
as
now she could no
t
take baths or swim, or use any sharp objects
,
while she was alone
,
which was
almost
always.
Still, a
ll of those things were taken in stride, of which she was proud. The only exception was the newest adjustment, which had taken her months to become accustom to.

It was voices that she began to hear, at first when she
closed her eyes at night, then when
ever she was sitting quietly. The problem was they were not speaking to her
,
but to each other, conversations about any number of things. It became clear, that they were not other people’s thoughts, at least not people who were nearby. Honestly, she had hoped that they were
,
so she could see if they were real to rule out the obvious fear. Her other tact was trying to communicate with them, but they did not seem to hear her
, no matter what she tried
.

She did not feel crazy
though
, well at least
,
no more than other people. Moreover, eventually she realized that they meant no harm. So she chalked it all up to just another part of her mind’s
out
growth and that in time they would make sense, or not. She had gotten into the habit of
making notes of interesting tid
bits that she pulled from the voices in addition to the dream journal. Keeping note pads, one next to her bed and the other in her pocket
usually
, to jot them down. Whenever they were not handy, she
just
scribbled things onto scraps and transcribed them later.

She did try not thinking about it too much, thinking it might encourage them to get even worse
, or so she figured
, since they seemed to be getting stronger
.
Nevertheless, she did often fi
nd herself speculating about what and where they were though
. They w
ere so different
. S
ome did not even speak English. The tho
ught processes for a lot of these people
was similar
however
, and she knew deep down that they were a group of hunters. Autumn also guessed that they were very good at their ga
me. So good in fact, that she
often thought her mind was synching with thei
rs in order to warn her of
potential danger.

The danger was definitely real enough; some of their conversations were down right grotesque
, tracking and hunting others
only to eat them, while they were still alive
. Those images seemed to stick in her mind more than others that she had actually seen
in her dreams
. To the point that she awoke to the sound of her own screams every few nights
,
after dreaming about creatures with bloody mouths chasing and attacking her
, just like th
e voices
suggested
.

That had disturbed her the most, she had read about schizophrenia and other delusional possibilities. She knew that her symptoms could h
ave easily been seen as such. She had even experimented with self medication
techniques, taking different sleeping pills,
to try
to push the
voices, and
dreams out of her head but they, only ended in several dangerous sleepwalking adventures. One in particular
,
where she dreamt that she killed numerous assailants and awoke to find knifes in her pillows. She promptly removed all sharp objects from her apartment after that
one
, though she did leave her baseball bat next to the front door. She did live alone in the city after all
,
and she was not going to leave herself entirely defenseless.

The other more disturbing
little
pill dream was when she awoke on the rooftop of her apartment building. She had dreamt that she was trying to evade capture and was about to jump from the edge. If it had not been for Grayton’s voice asking her to wake up, she would probably be dead now. The funny part is that he was not even talking to her; well not really, he had been trying to wake someone else. Someone named Serena, she thought
it was
her anyhow,
but
either way
,
that did not stop h
er from appreciating his help that night.

After that, she began listening to her head night after night sorting though conversations one at a time looking for Grayton’s soothing voice. This had been the most successful attempt at holding on to her sanity
in truth
. His voice was calming and she focused on it until it became the clearest each night, then she would finally be able to drift off.

At first, it was simply because it was the voice that saved her from certain death. After all a while, she realized his thoughts were more like hers, always sorrowful and wanting. He just did not seem happy with his life’s existence either
, he did not suffer from the voices though, she knew she had listened to him for quite a while. She thought, He
was a kind man....
He had been her guiding light when she feared that her sanity might have t
ruly been lost,
he had to be
real
....
she clung to that
thought fiercely.

He kept to himself or so she guessed, since she rarely heard him speaking with others. He also liked to read each night usually classics, though there were plenty of times that she was unable to place the story. From time to time
,
when he seemed to be feeling a little more masochistic, he read romance. This usually put him into a deep depression; his thoughts turned dark for days, and not surprisingly, nothing seemed to satisfy him. On those days
Autumn
did not usually have visions, as she found herself unable to calm down enough have them
, so worried she was for her friend
.

He was a kindred spirit, one that helped her to feel the least afraid and alone during this new and strange time in her life. She knew that she would love to talk with him in person
, see him,
hold
him
. She felt that she needed to let him know that he was not alone, and often wondered what he would be like in person. She wondered what he did during the day, since she knew he seemed to never sleep, well now... a new thought drifted into her mind...
he might be an Ivan
....