An Entry for the Written Category Of The Damien Molony Forum Creative Competition, shared here after prize winner announced, for feedback and comments.

'Requiem' by Sami

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Requiem

Day 6:

The room is dim. The only light is the sun peaking its way in through the closed curtains. Piles of odds and ends cover the walls of the room. The dim light coming in from the window illuminates the still crib, casting a dark veil on the floor.  The only sounds are the low murmuring of the television down stairs, the small squeaks and squeals coming from the baby, and the breathing of the vampire sitting in the corner, holding the squirming child.  The disgruntled look on his face makes it painfully obvious that he is not very good with babies.  Hal has never liked children, so being forced to care for this one is not exactly his idea of relaxing. His frustration rises as the foul creature continues to squirm as its squeaks morph into wails, quickly transforming into screams.  Hal holds the baby further from him and looks at it, panicked.  What the hell are you crying for now? I’ve only just gotten you to shut up! he thinks as he holds the child at an arm’s length. The rage starts to boil inside him. He knows what is coming now but that doesn’t stop his hazel eyes from sparking to black. His mouth open, revealing fangs, Hal stares at the child in his arms for a moment. Swiftly, he rears his head back and then brings his mouth to the baby’s throat and bites in.

He awakens suddenly, taking in his surroundings as he tries to slow his breath.  It is dark, both outside and in. He is still in the house in Barry. He is still strapped in tight to a chair by the window, and Tom is still asleep on the sofa.  The ambient sound of Alex digging through the cabinets in the kitchen calms him down. Hal takes a few deep breaths, reminding himself that it was just a dream.  The double doors blast open, hardly startling him. He shuts his eyes, because if Alex knew he was awake, the torrent of questions would bombard him and he wasn’t ready to talk with her about something like that. He hears her footsteps approach and then retreat. The sound of the double doors swinging closed as she goes back into the kitchen alert him that he can let his eyes drift back open.

If he were to really try, he could probably go back the sleep, but he didn’t want to. The dream would go on as it had the few nights before, if he let himself sleep. The baby would fall limp in his arms, and he would be laughing as the blood fell from his mouth. Then, Annie would burst into the room and start shouting at him. He would attack her, and she would die, just as if she were still alive. Shortly after, Tom would rush in, and Hal would kill him too. This dream broke all the rules. Hal didn’t understand why he was dreaming of something so recent, and it wasn’t even real. More than five hundred plus years of memories, and he had to be dreaming something that could have happened two weeks ago.  The last time he went through this process, he dreamed of things from hundreds of years in the past. He had even dreamed of being a child. This time the dreams weren’t more than a year or so old. At least, he didn’t dream of killing Leo and Pearl like he had, but murdering Tom, Annie, and Eve wasn’t any better.

Tom stirs on the couch, surprising Hal. He can feel it; the sudden raise in heart rate has flipped the switch on Hal’s temper. He starts pulling at the restraints, struggling to free himself. Tom, in his slumbering stupor, notices the noise, his eyes widen, and he quickly jumps off of the sofa to approach Hal. When Tom is a few feet from him, Hal’s eyes turn black and he starts spitting obscenities at Tom. Alex appears next to Tom, who hesitates before taking the final steps toward Hal. Tom takes Hal’s face in his hands forcing Hal to look straight at him

“Calm down mate—“

“Get your filthy, fucking hands off of me you mutt!” Hal shouts as he tries to free his head from between Tom’s hands. “I’ll kill you!”

Tom isn’t fazed by Hal’s yelling. He just tightens his hold on Hal. He lowers his voice in an attempt to sound soothing. “Come back mate,” he coaxes, “This isn’t you”.

Hal is still between Tom’s hands.  He tenses in the chair, ready to jump up at any moment. His black stare pierces straight into Tom’s.

“Hal,” Alex whispers. Hal quickly shifts his stare to Alex, who starts to back away. After watching Alex for a few moments, he gazes back at Tom.

He lowers his voice, “Please take your hands off of me.” Begrudgingly, Tom agrees.

 “Thank you,” He keeps his eyes locked on Tom for another minute or so. Then, his eyes fade back to normal.

A is a brief look of terror crosses Hal’s face before he passes out.

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Day 12:

“Two weeks. That’s how long it takes. Or that’s how long it should take. Last time Hal was trapped in the chair with the straps for two weeks exactly.  But this time, it looks like it will be longer.  It is day 12 and he is no where near where he should be. The process has a specific time line that it should follow, but this time it is following one completely different. 

“On days one & two, he should feel only slight nausea and the mood swings should start.  On days one & two, this time, he only felt extreme anger, with small intervals of respite between outbursts. On days three through five, he should be getting sick, and have a very high fever. It should only last for those three days. This time, however, the nausea started on about the third day, so he didn’t get sick until about the fifth and, he is still getting sick on Day 12. Days five through ten are when the mood swings should get really bad. The mood swings started occurring on the seventh day and have not stopped (though they have lessened in severity, which was one of the few signs he showed of getting better). During the last four days in the chair, he should be returning to normal but he should still be very weak. It is now day 12. He is not returning to normal by any means. Lastly, the dreams should start about day two. They should start with memories and slowly turn to utter nonsense. The dreams should continue no more than two months after the process is complete. He was dreaming alright, but they started at a weird point between memories and nonsense. At first he thought maybe that meant that they might not last as long, but when he started dreaming memories after nonsense, he stopped hoping.

“He should be mostly better by now. At first the chair wasn’t to awful, but now it feels like some cruel form of torture. Two weeks. That’s how long he should be in this damn chair. But as of right now, there is very little chance he will be getting out in two days.”

Day 22:

Alex rushes through the double doors, bucket in hand.

 “I thought vampires couldn’t get sick,” she frets, as she has every time Hal has gotten sick in the past 18 days. She gives the bucket to Tom, who then holds it under a heaving Hal. Hal looks up at Alex giving her a nod of thanks, and then keels over and vomits something red, black, and putrid into the bucket. He coughs a few more times before motioning with his head for them to take away the bucket.  Alex retreats into the kitchen to clean it out, as Tom wipes off Hal’s face. 

Hal’s body is drenched in sweat, his eyes are watering. He can’t take much more of this torture. “Please,” he begs to Tom, “Can I please get out of this godforsaken chair?” He has been pleading to be let out of the chair for days now. I began with yelling and threatening, but today it is shear begging. He feels as though he will implode if he has to spend another day in this chair.

Tom backs a few feet away from Hal. A small grin is forms on his face. Alex appears beside him. She is grinning too. Their smiles infuriate Hal, but he doesn’t have the energy to actually get angry.

 “What are you two smirking like that for?” Hal says, with a slight tinge of annoyance.

“Okay!” Tom says as his grin grows larger.

“Okay, what?” Hal groans, very confused and slightly irritated.

“Okay you can get out of the chair!” Alex replies, far more chipper than normal.

“What?” Hal asks as tiny teardrops touch his eyes.

“We’ve talked it over, and we decided it is about time you got out of that chair,” Tom explains

“Thank you so much!” Hal meekly chokes out between sobs.

“After three weeks of containment, I think you have served your time,” Alex jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “But we aren’t completely letting you off. I mean you did drink my blood—” she is cut off by a pained sorry from Hal. She knows how sorry he is, and she instantly feels bad for bringing it up. “Sorry, I know you couldn’t help it.” Their glances speak more than their apologies.

Tom undoes the last of the straps holding Hal in “But you are not completely off-the-hook.”

Tom helps Hal out of the chair.  Hal barely takes a step before collapsing on the floor. He hasn’t been this weak since he was human. Even when it got to this point last time, it wasn’t this bad.  After taking a second to gain some composure, he tries to stand again.  Tom and Alex help him up, this time with both of them carrying him. They make it to the stairs before they have to stop and rest.  They pause every few steps, making sure that everyone is ready for the next climb.  Eventually they make it to Hal’s room. They lay him on his bed and he quietly chokes out a mumbled “Thank you.”  Tom attaches straps, connected to the bed, to each of Hal’s wrists. The trio silently exchange looks of gratitude and kindness as Hal quietly goes unconscious.

Day 25:

The room has a pinkish glow from the sun rising outside, engulfing the stirring Hal. His room is very neat and organised, just as he left it. He feels the unfamiliar straps chaining him to his bed.  He gives them a small tug, just to make sure they are still tight. The door creaks open and Alex walks in with another glass of water.

“Oh, you’re awake!” she says sounding a bit startled. “It’s been three days!  I thought you were never going to wake up!”  She places the glass on the side table and an awkward step back.  They exchange a few timid glances before she turns to make her way to the door.

“Alex,” Hal croaks out, his voice a bit shaky.  She turns to face him.

“Yes?”

“…Thank you.”

She pauses for a moment, “It seems like that is all you can say lately,” she says jokingly.

“Sorry,” he replies, laughing a little.

The room is silent as they exchange awkward smiles. Alex turns and starts out the room again, but she stops dead in her tracks and rushes back to Hal’s bedside.

“You should be sorry!” she shouts at him.  The soft look that was on her face moments before is completely absent.

“Wh--,” Hal starts, very confused and slightly frightened by Alex’s sudden change in behavior.

“It’s your fault I'm dead!” she cuts him off, “You killed me, Hal!”

“What?” He jerks back in his bed, “Alex, where is this coming from?”

“You killed me too, Hal…” A second voice joins Alex’s.

“A-Annie….”  He whimpers as Annie appears at the foot of his bed.  Her face is filled with the same, silent fury that covers Alex’s.

Two more voices join in with the accusations. “It’s your fault we are dead too!” Leo’s voice is harsh, bringing the first of the tears from Hal’s eyes.

“You killed us both!” Pearl bellows into his ear.

They continue shouting at him as they each grab hold of part of his body. More people join in the commotion, all shouting the same accusations. Each person is now tearing and clawing at him. He can feel all of their hands on him, all of their nails digging in to his skin, and all of their pain now becoming his. He closes his eyes to retreat into his shell.

Then, it stops. Silence, He slowly opens his eyes to a clean, quiet, and empty room. He can still feel the pain of his victims, along with their piercing echoes.   He lets out a sharp scream from the shear intensity of the pain.

Tom and Alex rush franticly into Hal’s room. “Hal! Hal, what’s the matter?” Tom grabs Hal’s hand, causing him to cringe, increasing his screams.

“Please!” Hal manages between screams, “Please, stop!” he begs of the apparitions, tears streaming down his face.

Tom and Alex are taken aback. Tom releases Hal’s hand, but Hal continues to scream, writhing. Hal squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force away the pain and the voices but, when he opens them, his eyes have turned to a glazed jet-black. When he opens his mouth to scream again his fangs have extended. Tears still flow from his eyes, and screams still spew out of his fanged mouth. “Please!” he begs again.

A voice that wasn’t there before joins in the chorus in Hal’s ears. It is low and clam, yet it overpowers all the others. “Hal,” the voice stabs. “You did this to them Hal. You deserve this.”  Hal can feel the breath of the speaker on his cheek. “You were great once, Harry, but now, you are weak. And for that--,” the voice pauses, as its hand plunges into Hal’s chest, “You deserve this,” Mr. Snow’s hand emerges from Hal’s chest holding his heart. Hal lets out one final shriek agony.  Mr. Snow’s words linger on Hal’s ear as the pain disappears.

Hal’s breathing is quick and labored after the pain and screaming stop. Alex and Tom stand staring at Hal with disbelief. “Are you alright, mate?” Tom cautiously approaches Hal’s bedside. Hal shakes his head. It has been centuries since he had felt this much pain. He knew it was just a dream, but the pain was real, and unbearable. He could feel the warmth of their hands on him, the sharpness of their nails digging into his flesh. Just thinking of it sends tremors through his entire body. However, it isn’t the pain that terrifies him most; it is the realness of Mr. Snow. He had been in Hal’s dreams before, but never like this.

Hal slows his breathing as he lets the last of the tears escape from his eyes, which have faded back to their normal hazel. He tries to sit up in his bed, but the straps and the lingering pain in his chest make it difficult. Tom comes closer to Hal’s side. “What happened?” he asks gently, handing Hal a glass of water.

Hal shakes his head slightly. “I-I'm not sure,” He says in a low voice. He takes the glass from Tom and takes a big gulp. Water has never tasted so good, for it isn’t until now that he notices the burning in his throat. He finishes off the glass quickly.

“What were you screaming for?” Alex asks from across the room, still quite shocked from Hal’s episode.

“It was a dream,” he starts, “or, at least, I think it was a dream. I don’t know.” He pauses, getting hold of himself.  “Whatever it was, it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt.” The room is silent as Alex disappears and the reappears a moment later with a new glass of water. She hands it to Hal, but then quickly backs away from him. The three stand, again, in silence, with looks of worry strewn across all their faces.

Day 34:

Today is the first day Hal has been able to get out of bed.  They took the straps off three days ago, but he had been too weak to get up. He tries to stand, but his legs are shaky so he has to sit back down. He hates feeling so pathetic. All of the pride he had a month ago is completely shattered. Tom and Alex have now seen him in the complete worst state he’s ever been. They’ve seen him get sick all over himself. They’ve seen him talk to imaginary people (who were very real to him). And they’ve heard him say the worse possible things. If he were them, he probably would have bailed along time ago, but they stayed with him through it all, and he couldn’t be more thankful for that.

The past few weeks had been really hard, but thankfully now he is mostly better. The only things that lingers still are the dreams. Just last night, he had dreamed that he was in the middle of everyday life when he ripped open his shirt revealing a super hero costume with a domino on it and flew out of the room yelling “Super Hal to the rescue!!” He knows the dreams will not be done with for some time, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying if he’s gone mental.

The upside is that the worst part is over, and he has Tom and Alex to thank for it.