FICTION SERIES

#5 Blood of the Covenant — Chapter 4: All the Voices

A paranormal fantasy

It was not the bright stinging sun that bothered me the most. What bothered me most intensely was all the people in my room. They argued, laughed, talked, and breathed; so loud yet strained, like a room full of people whispering in my ear, trying to drown each other out. I pulled the blanket over my head though it did nothing to kill the incessant droning.

It was confusing and painful.

I covered my ears with my hands. When that did not work, I curled into the fetal position and wrapped the pillow around my face pushing the ends into my ears. That helped, a little. With focussed concentration, most of the voices faded to vague whispers in the back of my mind. Only three still tormented me.

One of the three was heavy breathing too near to me. The other two were arguing, I think. They seemed to be disagreeing yet their tone was perpetually smooth and agreeable. One of them spoke with a hint of distress in his voice and though the words were clear, I did not understand them.

He said, “I thought she might.” I knew that voice. The strange, sad boy.

The other one sounded, calming. He said words like, “You knew,” and, “Don’t worry.”

I lost the battle to hold my concentration and the voices slipped back into the muddled cacophony of a million words spoken at once. It was a vociferous rumble and I wondered how they could all be so inconsiderate. There I was, obviously trying to sleep and they had all come into my room to have a damn party!

Oh great! And now they have turned on a spotlight and directed it straight at my face.

My agitation was growing exponentially by the second. I wanted to yell at them all, to demand that they all leave and get some damn manners before they come back.

A weak and scratchy, “Get out,” was all I managed. It came out shaky with hysteria and fear rather than with the malice I had hoped to inject.

Then, he was there.

He came back. I winced at my own unrecognizable neediness. His mouth opened to speak and the words come out in a roar. “SHHHHH, IT’S OK,” he bellowed at me. The words were wrong, why was he yelling at me? “SHHHHHHHH.”

You shoosh, god damn it!

I could hear the friction of skin on skin as he stroked my arm. I could hear him breathe, I could hear him blink, I could hear myself whimper, and the sound was deafening. I tried to stay silent.

I concentrated on a tune in my head, though I did not know where I had heard it. His hand left me for a moment and a large crash echoed through my head like an explosion, then he was back. Some of the voices dulled. They were a little quieter now and he made an effort not to speak; I was grateful for that.

I stayed very still and breathed as lightly as possible.

Breathing.

Thinking.

My exhaustion fought the pain.

I jumped when he yelled at me again.

“IT WILL STop, I promise.” His roar died as abruptly as the other voices ended as if he had willed them to with his very words. It was instant relief and I felt my whole body relax with a sigh. I was surprised that there was no residual pain, discomfort, or even a ringing in my ears. Surprised but extremely thankful.

He tugged at the pillow and I relinquished my hold.

“Better?” he queried, stroking my hair. I nodded.

Finally, exhaustion won.

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Chapter 5: The Strangest Strangers

He had the face of a perfect angelic child — serene, calm, and innocent. He had the face of a hardened criminal — harsh, strong, and deadly. He had the face of everything in between. His square jaw was masculine beauty at its best but he held it in a constant state of tension, even as he smiled, as if he would break into hysterical tears should he relax. Even appearing as comfortable and happy as he did, he looked like his short years had forced him to go against his own morals in so many situations. Not that I knew enough about him to know what his morals were. A name would be a start.

Copyright © 2021 Kai Parker (adapted from Awakening by Porle Joen — also me, lol). 2021 queer reworking — LGBTQ2SAI+ Paranormal Fantasy.

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.