Capítulo 9: Sons of Mercy
Chapter Eight
Sons of Mercy
Coal black claws glistened in the candlelight, the wavering light casting a sort of sheen over the dark skin of his hands. Dais looked down at her for a moment, his breath catching in his chest. She sat very still, staring at the hand in her grasp, mouth opened wide. The scream had long age died out, now it hung open in a silent scream.
In a flash of anger, Dais ripped his hand from hers, sucking it back under the cloak. His breathing hitched for a moment, the slowed as he looked down at the small frightened girl before him. Briar now looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened, something he knew was going to come in the end. From the very beginning, he had known the day she would see him in his terrible true form would come. It was foolish wishful thinking to hope it would not happen. Yet he had, oh gods how he had hoped that she would never discover his form.
Briar sat silent, pale as ash. Not a sound came from her, and it would not have surprised him if she had died right then. She seemed to barely breath. Deciding to sting before she could gather her hurtful words, he lashed out. "See something that frightens you, Briar Gantz?" Dais words were laced with a deep and frightening ferocity.
The sheer wickedness in his voice brought Briar back to her senses. "Your hands..." she whispered. Before her, Dais turned abruptly. There came no sound from him, and Briar doubted she wanted to hear anything from him. Those hands, oh god, those hands. What had hands like that? Nothing she had ever seen and would likely never see in her entire life. Only he had hands so...monstrous.
With out a word, Dais slipped through the drapes to the other room, leaving her alone with the image of his twisted limbs in her mind.
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Loneliness, deep and suffocating, Briar had felt it often in her life, but none more than now. Dais had not come back for several days. Not since she saw his hands. Shivering subconsciously,Briar recalled the hard bone like texture of those three large claws that seemed to be his fingers.
For the last couple of days, she had awoken to food laid out on the small table next to her. Later, a large pail of hot water along with a bar of soap, and a small handwritten note lay on the table instead. Tired, and still a little bleary she had taken the note from the table. In loopy writing, she read what she could only assume was Dais's instructions for the bucket.
"Use this to wash yourself. The soap is some sort of orange scent, and is brand new. Be sure to wash the wound on your back carefully." That was it. Other than waking once or twice to find her bandages changed or a note given her instructions about where to find the stuff she needed, she saw neither hide nor hair from her semi spectral host.
"I need something to do." Briar sat up, wincing slightly as the pain form her wound hit her once again. Over the weeks her wounds had gotten better, but still caused her pain when she moved too much. Briar groaned, falling back onto the bed. She had not touched The Picture of Dorian Grey in a good week, for every time she tried to read it she fell asleep. Not that is was boring, its just that she forgot how reading made her tired. All she had time to do was lay in bed and think about Adam.
The whole situation confused her beyond thinking properly. After everything she had done for him, the bastard had betrayed her. They had been together for almost three years, and he had stabbed her, leaving her to die in a sewer.
"Not that anyone would care." she murmured. It was sad to admit, but completely true. Adam was her only family, and her friends were all the groupies that hung out around Seventh Terrace. Every single last one of those people were dumb as hell anyways. If Adam told them she had left, they would not think twice. Plus her boss never glanced at her, and would only notice she was gone once her checks started piling up. If the old fart even noticed at all. "Great." Briar ran one hand through her hair, trying to think of something else to do.
Still nothing came to mind, and she opted instead to take a nap, like she had done everyday for the last couple of days. Raising one arm over her head, Briar could not help but wish Dais would bring another pail of water to wash in. She was in need of a bath.
Sleep would not come. Even if she begged, it would not let her wandering mind sleep. Instead it floated above her, letting her mind go over things she had long tried to hide. Her only solace was the quiet rustling of the drapes that acted as a door to the room in which she currently found herself. Bravely, she cracked one eye slightly.
Dais entered quietly, his hood up, and one clawed hand hauling in a bucket. The other hand held a tray laden with food and drink. Briar sighed slightly. This man was such a puzzle. Never speaking to her, and staying away from her, yet making sure she was taken care of almost over protectively. Adam had never been this much of a puzzle. He was either in rock star mode, or boyfriend mode. Not that there was much of a difference between the two modes anyway.
Her thoughts drifted back to Adam, how he had been so sweet in the beggining, then a total nut case at the end. Wait, the end? Did she just break things off with Adam? Well of course you idiot. The bastard stabbed you! In the book of things to break up over, that is like number one. She could not help but grin. After all the years, it hurt her that things had gone sour with them, but what a feeling! She was free of that show off pig! Never again would she have to deal with him, and his leg humping of every cute skirt that came along, and as soon as she got out of here, he would be the subject of some of that leg humping. In a prison cell that is.
Feigning sleep, she did not move as Dais placed the bucket on the floor next to the bed. He was talking to himself, which she noted he only does when there is something on his mind. As usual, the subject of his ramblings was her and the state of her wounds.
"She seems to be healing exceptionally well. Soon Briar shall leave for the surface, and I can go back to living normally." from under her arm, she saw him stretch slightly, as if his back hurt. She knew he had not been sleeping in the bed next to her, and wondered exactly where he had been sleeping. Dais turned slightly, pulling something from his robes. A small box appeared in his hands as he pulled them from the inside of his cloak, its white top gleaming slightly in the candle light. "Back to sleeping in my own bed, with no foolish girl asking me questions. Demanding things from me. No one to scream at my hands."
Briar clamped her mouth shut, stopping her self from retorting to the things she heard hurled her way. He thought she was asleep, and she knew he would not speak so freely if he knew she was awake.
"No more rummaging for extra food. No more sleeping in my damn chair. Just me and my books, as it is meant to be." The bed sunk slightly as he set himself down on it. Briar reflexes kicked in, and she flinched.
"Then it will be quiet down here again." his whispering voice grew louder slightly. "No more foolish girls trying to get me to spend time with them. To feed them. Someone so dense as to not know where the toilet facilities are located, or to put the soap on the platter and not in the bucket to melt." Briar clenched her teeth, trying not to send some biting remark back to him for insulting her. Dais continued on almost flippantly. "Who bothers me with her incessant twitching as I change her bandages. Or that insane tossing and turning she does whilst asleep. Or that god awful snore that disturbs even the rats in the pipes."
It was becoming increasingly hard for her to stop herself from yelling at him. Her, snore? Not on his life! She had never snored in her life. This was begging to piss her off. First Adam, then this bastard saying such stupid shit! Yet, she bit her lip, hoping he would leave.
He did not. "Or leaving her wet clothes on the floor, only to mildew. It takes forever to find clothes for her, and she lets them go to waste. No more." he leaned slightly toward her. Going silent for a moment, he seemed to be waiting for something. She did nothing. Dais sighed, "No more pretending to be asleep to catch what I say." he nudged her with his elbow.
Briar slowly uncovered her eyes. "You knew?" she asked, annoyed. The hood of the cloak nodded once quickly.
"It is rude to listen in on someones conversation..." he pushed himself from the bed. Briar opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced as Dais cut in. "Even if the conversation was with themselves."
A small smile twitched at the side of Briar's mouth. Sighing, Dais pushed himself from the bed, stretching slightly as he walked forward.
"Anyway, I returned for the moment to check on your wounds, and provide the supper for this night." one clawed hand moved beside him in a little waving motion. "Now that I have, there is work to be done. Goodnight Briar."
She sat bolt upright, hair a mess and face confused. "Wait!" she called to his retreating back. Dais stopped, and turned to her. Briar froze, wondering why she had called out to him as she did. Yet, she knew why. There was only one answer. She was lonely.
"Stay, please." When she received no answer,she sat up farther. One leg swung over the bed, she looked over at him. The hood of the cloak was facing her, letting her know that he was listening.
"Why should I do that?" he asked, voice dripping with venom. "What company could you keep with the likes of me?"
Briar swallowed, steeling herself. "Look," she pointed to him defiantly. "I am sorry I screamed when I saw your cla.." she quickly stopped herself. "hands. They just startled me thats all."
Dais remained silent, his hood now facing the curtain. "I'm lonely down here all by myself all day." she murmured, eyes downcast in embarrasment. Of all the things to tell him, she had to say that! How stupid! Now he will think you are some weak minded little girl who needs attention all the time! Stupid stupid stupi..
Her internal fight stopped suddenly as Dais finally answered. "If you wish me too, then I will spend some time with you."
Briar looked over at him, puzzled. He agreed? How..wonderful. She smiled, and scooted over. Dais crossed the floor in moments, and drew his cloak around himself as he sat on the bed. Together they sat there saying nothing. Briar kept fidgeting, and Dais only stared forward, hands folded in his lap. Finally, Briar let out a large sigh, and threw herself backwards on the bed.
"You are so boring! Anyone ever tell you that?"
He looked over at her, hands moving in a slightly aggitated way. For a moment he said nothing, and then he growled something to her.
" What makes you think you are any fun?" voice low and husky, he growled out at her, making her blush slightly.
"Because." she countered, crossing her arms.
"Yes?"
"Thats it, because."
Dais said nothing, but Briar could have put money on the fact that he had sighed loudly.
"That is not an answer."
"Yes it is."
"No it is not."
"I opened my mouth and words came out. This was in a direct response to your question. So, its an answer."
"Must we argue about such impertinent little things like children?"
"Yep."
Again Dais growled, and Briar giggled a little to herself. Aggravating him was fun, she should do it more often. Putting one hand over her mouth, she smiled at him wickedly.
"You are so much fun to mess with." fluttering her eyelashes, she smiled at him again.
He did not respond, just sat there, staring at her as if she were insane.
"You are insane. You know that?" his turned his head to stare out at the piles of books.
Briar laughed, sitting back slightly to adjust the bandage a little more comfortably. Beside her, Dais shifted uncomfortably since Briar had moved closer to him. Again, Briar moved closer, resting her hand next to his. She did not mean anything by it, Briar was just a loving person by nature. Everyone needed company, and she was no exception.
Shifting uncomfortably, Dais tried to start another conversation. Somewhere deep inside, he liked these little insights into normal life.
"How far have you come in Dorian Grey?"
Briar turned slightly, pulling the book from the tangle of quilts and pillows. Its dusty cover was smudged by her fingerprints, and one of the pages had been dogeared. Dais looked at the number of pages in the dogear was, and saw that it was only a few pages in.
He took the book from her, his clawed hands scraping the cover, digging into the leather. Now Briar knew where the small marks that littered the cover were from. Apparently from where Dais handled the book, his claws dug into the leather, creating small scraps and scratches on its surface. Turning the front page, Dais lifted the pages between two claws, turning it over to see the next page. Looking at him amazed, she realized she did not know he could be so delicate with something.
"You mentioned once that you keep falling asleep on this story every time you try to read it."
Briar nodded, looking around him slightly to see what page he was on.
"Yes. Every time I read it, I end up falling asleep. I forgot how reading makes me tired." she explained, yawning. "Actually, what time is it now? I am exhausted." Briar stretched, and pulled the covers up onto her waist. Laying against the large pillows used to prop oneself against the mattress, she looked over at Dais.
He seemed to be in deep concentration, flipping the page back and forth nervously. What on earth he had to be nervous about was a mystery to her, but she allowed him his time to mull whatever it was in his head over.
"I will read it to you,if you wish."
His voice came out of nowhere, startling her slightly. Briar smiled to herself slightly, loving the idea that he read to her.
"I would love that. Thank you."
Dais settled himself back into the bed, and the leafed through the pages.
"The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind..." Dais read, his melodic whisper of a voice echoing in the room they shared.
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Dais sat upright, still reading. Briar had long since snuggled closer to him, and though he knew he should not, he let her. Her arm was wrapped about his waist, the other cushioning her head. Dais had never been this close to someone in his entire life.
"Society, civilized society at least, is never very ready to believe anything to the detriment of those who are both rich and fascinating. It feels instinctively that manners are of more importance than morals, and, in its opinion, the highest respectability is of much less value than the possession of a good chef."
Briar nodded, her eyes getting droopy, as she listened. The warmth of the bed, and the comforters were lulling her into a damned sleep. I do not want to sleep, I want to hear him read. She tried to stay awake, fighting her urge to follow the lullaby of the night into the dark of dream.
"It should have the dignity of a ceremony, as well as its unreality, and should combine the insincere character of a romantic play with the wit and beauty that make such plays delightful to us. Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities." A hand on his leg stopped Dais before he could continue.
Her voice thick with sleep, Briar spoke to him, smiling in the dark. "As much as I want to see if Dorian looks at his picture, can we call it a night?"
"Yes. Of course. Another day then." He sat the book aside, settling it beside him. Briar smiled tiredly, settling her head on her arm. Dais turned slightly, drawing his cloak about himself as he lay down. Together they lay on the bed, close but separate. Soon, Dais could hear the soft breathing of a sleeping Briar. Moving slightly, he felt something warm touch his hand. He flinched and twisted his head round slightly, to see what it was that was touching his hand.
Laying in the palm of his clawed hand, Briar had wrapped one of her hands around his. His breath hitched in his chest once again. She was touching him in her sleep, holding his hand in all actuality.
Face growing hot, he tried weakly to pull his hand from her grasp. In his defense, Briar had a strong grip when she was asleep. He tried once more to pull himself from her grasp, then he gave in. Settling his head on one of the pillows, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, one hand curling slightly to cover Briar's.
Status de energia semanal
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