The room he was in was barren, void of life, though the barred window situated on the wall was just low enough to allow for him to peek out at life. Something that he knew, without a doubt, he'd never be a part of ever again. But he was alive. He was dead, yet alive, and it was the cruelest punishment he could have ever gotten.
The young boy was curled up in the middle of the room, as lifeless as a piece of log. But his eyes, as empty as they could be, stared out into the nothingness, one eye blue as the stormy ocean, while the other as red as blood. Perhaps he deserved it, he thought, this punishment. It was a growing reminder that he should've tried harder. He should have protected his friends. He should have died alongside them, and not just his humanity. But here he was, starving for the taste of something that would only make him more of a monster. Even the craving made him want to empty his guts.
Then the door creaked open, the sound hammering in his head and threatening to burst his eardrums. For the first time in hours, the little boy let out a yelp, curled up, and covered his ears as if the action would shield him from the excruciating noise. His ears felt like exploding. He feared his head would combust. And just like that, the noise stopped, only to welcome the sound of heels clicking against the cold, stone floor.
The little boy didn't uncurl, not until the woman was standing just a few feet away. When she sat down, her legs crossed, the boy peered up and gave her a look, lifeless eyes shimmering with fear. But the hauntingly beautiful female did not say anything; she merely lifted his head and placed it on her lap, running her fingers through his hair. It was almost motherly.
"Will you not feed?" her sweet voice filled her ears, long, silver hair flowing down her back. She was glowing, even in the dreadful room, and the boy could not deny that she was the only beautiful being present. "You must, little one. Otherwise, the pain will not leave."
But the child did not respond. Even through the clash in his heart, he remained silent, and the woman did not speak, either. She was only stroking his hair, something he remembered before he became lost to the world. And when he awoke, there was a trail of dried blood on his mouth, and his hunger was gone.
If he could have thrown up, the boy knew that's what he would have done all day long until the vile taste was gone from his lips and flushed out of his body.
Elijah woke up to the heightened sound of chirping birds. He hadn't recalled falling asleep, but somewhere along the night, he had. The sofa had been small for him, so he slept uncomfortably, but he wasn't too bothered by it. Instead, he pushed himself into a sitting position and took a deep breath. Other than the sound of the birds, there was nothing else that he heard unless he counted the quiet heartbeat of his childhood friend sleeping in his room. In his bed. Wrapped in his blankets.
Elijah swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head. Those thoughts would do him no good, certainly not when aimed at Elyse of all people.
Like he'd thought, however, Elijah had gone on a hunt. He brought back three rabbits he'd hunted, skinned them, and washed them, but since the only cooking he had ever done was over a fire… the meat was safely stored in the fridge, along with some fruits he'd acquired. Elyse would be annoyed at him, he was sure. He could already imagine her pursed lips and that crinkle between her brows when she was upset, something she used to do even as a child, and an amused smile covered his lips. It was all right, he told himself. She'd have to deal with it until he was certain there was no threat around them.
So Elijah waited for his partner to wake up, and passed his time while sharpening his blades, forcing his mind away from the time he'd recently been turned. Especially from the woman who had been like a mother up until he was completely under her control.
