I couldn't get her screams out of my head. Her angry expression, ready to strike and kill. I was still shaking, but Luca was help bent and determined to calm me down. I was sitting in a hot bath, lavender surrounding me to soothe my shot nerves. There was something about her drawing me back to the dream. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing and calming my heart that was throbbed wildly on my chest. The warmth around me seemed to melt away for a brief moment and suddenly I felt a bone chilling cold instead. My eyes ripped open and I wasn't in the tub anymore. Instead I was surrounded by the poppies again, looking over the cliff to the sea. The moonlight streamed across my skin, and I was riddled with confusion. I was only wearing a white slip with a light blue smock over it, detailed with gold sunflowers and olive leaves.
"I am glad you agreed to this sorrowful meeting, milady." I turned around to see her standing there. Golden hair cascading like a waterfall, snowy skin like the moonlight itself. Her brown eyes almost full of sincerity, but also brimming with dark emotion. She wore a blood red chemise and smock, red ruffles making large open bell sleeves.
"You told me you wanted to make ammends. I believe in living with no regrets, and no enemies." I took a step forward, offering my hand to her inna gesture of respect and peace. She seemed taken aback, but took my hand in mine gently. She bit her lip, looking a little unsure of herself and a bit regretful.
"Please accept my sincere request from my soul. I fell to the demons of Mammon and Asmodeus themselves, and to that my soul has been damned for my regrets for all eternity. I hope that you can achieve a eternity of peace you deserve." She was smiling sweetly at me, and her venomous voice was sweeter than honey and words full of truth. The poppies swayed in the sea breeze, tickling my legs and skirt as they swayed eerily. She seemed like she really regretted what she had done, fidgeting and holding back tears as we parted our hands.
"I thank you, and bless you for your ammends and confession. I pray that your soul may not be forever darkened from this stain, and you find the light you deserve." She looked shocked from my words and her lip quivered, tears threatening to spill.
"Can I confess something to you sister?" She rushed over to me and looped her fingers through mine, her razor sharp nails scratching my skin uncomfortably. As soon as she got close to me the aura shifted from one of regret to a sickly darkness radiating off her. I tried to tug my hands away but she held them on place tightly. I winced in pain as bruises bloomed across my wrists and her fingernails dug into my flesh.
"Mammon and Asmodeus claws still linger on my soul. Their claws are deep into my flesh and into my heart," She began squeezing harder, her eyes switching from soft and regretful to boiling over with rage, and a murderous one at that.
"Sister, you're hurting me." I was growing fearful, and tried to pull my hands away but she held me firmly in place.
"Another demon latched onto me. In fact, the seven sins have rooted themselves in me and refuse to let go." In a flash one of her hands were around my throat and we tumbled to the ground as I tried to get away. The poppies flew into the air and around her murderous face.
"Allow me to confess, and let's share my pain." I could barely breathe. suddenly there was a sharp pain in my side and I tried t scream as he fingernails dug into my stomach.
"You hurt my pride when my love chose a weak slave over my beauty." She dug deeper and a hot flash of pain ripped the scream from my throat.
"I was overcome with greed because I want all of his love, and I refuse to share it." She slashed to the side and I gurgle and blood rushed from the gaping wound.
"Envy came when I saw you in his arms and not mine. He should have only been on my arms." She was rooting around my insides and blood sprayed like a fountain. It was excruciating, and I was about to pass out but she stopped.
"We are only at three, you have to stay awake now." She lessened the pressure on my neck but air was still struggling to get down my lungs. I was struggling as hot liquid poured out of my mouth and down my stomach.
"My wrath came when I realized as long as you're alive he will never love me. He will never be mine." She took her hand from my organs and then suddenly there was a sharp pressure on my arm, just over my elbow. Heat and pain came, but I couldn't feel my fingers. I realized that she had severed my arm from my body and I let out a gurgle scream.
"My lust would never be satisfied until I feel him inside me again," She struck my other arm and cleanly severed the other, "His skin against mine and our bodys together as one. I yearn for that and go mad without it." My eyes could only look upwards to the starry sky as my vision was fading.
"I crave your flesh and his. I'm gluttonous for it. O want to sink my teeth into your skin and eat you whole to make you disappear, and I want to eat your husband's love and body." She licked her hands in front of my face, my blood staining her lovely and cruel features. Every breath was a herculean task, and I could feel my life slipping away. Red was the only thing I could see, her dress, my blood, and the mocking poppies. I couldn't breathe, I felt like I was hot water.
"Finally, sloth. Once you're gone I will lounge with your husband, feasting on our bodies and immortality together," Her hands wrapped around my throat and lifted my head off the ground, "You will be nothing but a memory. A curse lifted from him, and I will be his blessing. His savior. Your soul will never find peace, for someone as wicked and tainted as you would never find paradise." Her hands clenched my neck, and closed my eyes just as she tore.
My eyes snapped open only to be met with hot soapy water hitting my face. I was choking in the water and I thrust myself up and broke the surface, choking and sputtering as soap invaded my mouth. I began to vomit up the after that had invaded my mouth, coughing it up as water invaded my nose and throat. I was grabbing the marble floor to make sure I was really here, my heart beating like it did the day I had my heart attack.
"Whag happened?" Isa had poked her head into the room with a worried expression, and saw my waterlogged form hunched over and coughing up my lungs. I couldn't answer, just shuddered in horror as I shook violently. Isa stood solidarity at the door, unmoving and with a stone like face. She always was off putting to me, but this face of hers was putting me at unease.
"Shall I fetch the master?" I shook my head, gasping and pressing my skin against the cool marble to stabilize myself. The crystalline lights above me dancing mockingly over my head as the world blurred towards me as I regained my bearings.
"You seemed to be frightened by something. What seems to be the problem?" She cooked her head to the side in an almost mocking and cruel manner as I struggled to breathe. I felt uneasy and staring at her she gave me a small smile. She seemed to like seeing me like this-- distraught and struggling. She patted down on top of the toilet where a pair of white towels were waiting for me and turned back to the door.
"These are for you. Allow me to get you your change of clothes." She turned away and walked away. She was unfeeling and a little cruel, which confused me since the Isa I had grown accustomed to was still cold but at least showed emotion every once in a while. I stayed in the tub for a minute longer, trying to wipe away the thougts I just had.
When I experienced memories from Elijah I was always in his body, showing his acts. This was the second time I experienced the past where I was Sara, and not Elijah.
I was silent and alone most of the day, sitting on the couch reading an old nonsense book and barely paying attention. It was an Shakespeare play, King Leer. Although I had already read it and understood the premise, my mind was twisted up in so many shapes that the words were meaningless to me. They barely penetraded my skull and I couldn't focus on the plot. I was just solely reading the gibberish to occupy myself as the occasional shriek was still echoing down the long corridors outside to indicate that Marie was still here but still throwing a fit. I was wondering what the Convocation was, confused as to why it was so dangerous that she tried to blackmail Elijah using it. I shook my head and tried to focus, feeling like a mortals place in immortal politics is a little inappropriate. A rapping on the door brought my focus back and I folded up the book.
"Come in," I called out. A almost unfamiliar man stepped in, the same man I had seen with the black jeans and shirt next to Ziva the say I met her. His partially graying hair was slicked back, and his beard and mustache were impeccable in condition. He looked almost like one of those distinguished gentlemen in a James Bond film, but less extravagant.
"Miss Suri?" He called out in a thick but posh British accent. I perked up and sat up in my casual yog pants and long sleeve provided to me and waited for him to speak.
"The Master wanted me to check on your condition and see how you're fairing?" I just nodded but I was still shaken up from the whole affair. It seemed like Elijah had to deal with enough with an enraged Marie and calming his own nerves, so I didn't want to press my own issues on him as the stress he was already under was substantial.
"Tell him I am okay." I went to go scratch my face and the man's face twisted into shock. He dashed over to me and I flinched as he reached out to me but he just grabbed my hands gently and pushed my sleeve down. Around my wrists was an ugly blue and purple bruises, along with five deep puncture marks that already scabbed over, but were bright red and burning as soon as he touched them like there were fresh. I was alarmed to see this and instantly after their discovery the other wrist started to ache. He reached over and rolled up my other sleeve to show that there was a matching bruises ring around my wrist and five more puncture marks.
"How did this happen? Are you okay?" He looked scared and nervous looking at the now painful and ugly bruises and marks. I was in total shock and pain, remembering that these brushes coincided with those given to me in that daydream. I started to get a sharp pain across my stomach and I let out a small gasp but the man didn't catch it.
"I will explain this to the Master right away!" I caught his hand before he dashed away.
"Please don't!" I yeloed and dragged him back down, my throat starting to burn and my stomach cramping like I was on a bad period. He looked bewildered and shocked, especially at mt torn up face wincing from the stabbing pain that was now traveling just above my elbows.
"He is under enough stress right now, and I don't want him to suffer while she's here. Please just keep this quiet." He looked scared, shaking like a newborn lamb. I gripped the velvet cover of the rococo couch beneath me, pleasing on desperation. I knew if Elijah was told I would be put back on a room ban and I had just achieved a small amount of freedom. He would also grow more angry than he already is, and I had no good explanation as to how they appeared. I could tell him the daydream I had, but it made no sense to me that a daydream could cause real-world damage that I didn't notice for so long.
"Please." I said softly once more. The man stopped and the let out a sigh, conceding to my pleading eyes.
"I will not tell him," He looked at me with darkness in his firm gaze, "But I will tell my wife so she may tend to you and keep this to secrecy." I nodded, elated but also pained at the cramps kept coming snd now my throat was turning sore. I was wearing a turtle neck but I had a feeling I knew why it was constricted. I let go if his wrist and he dashed for the oak door before disappearing with a slam. I immediately stood up the quickly but the cramps made me double over. I hobbled over to the closet and ignored the hanging clothes around me and went to the door in the far back corner connected to the bathroom. With every step the pain increased, to the point that I was limping white clutching mt stomach. It burned. My hands burned, my arms ached snd my neck was constricted. I made it to the vanity, the large mirror was showing me my disheveled reflection. My brow was collected with sweat, and my face was flushed from the brutal pain. I pulled down my navy turtleneck, revealing a matching nasty blue and purple bruises around my neck, with red scratched around the side of it. It was ugly and throbbed with unholy fire. I was terrified as I lifted up the bottom of my shirt to reveal my aching stomach. A large gash was cut across my belly, red and scabbed over like it was old. It hurt like living hell though, and I noticed it was glittering like there was wet blood or tissue. When my hand gently went over it it was dry, no sign of the stickiness I would expect. Rolling up my sleeves I saw a ring of scratched and bruises around my upper arms where Sara would have been severed. I was confused, in pain, and shocked at the revelations my body was showing me. It was like a map showing ever trauma Sara went through in my dreams, but pulling over to real life. I shuddered at the thought and just as I did Ziva came storming into the bathroom with a worried and determined look on her ageless face. She froze when she looked in the mirror and saw my exposed and scabbed stomach. We stood in silence for a brief moment, only looking at each other through our reflections while my gut wound kept glittering.
"I swear I don't know how this happened." I broke the tense and loaded silence with the semi truth, unable to tell her about what I saw. She just blinked at me before the realization dawned on her in what exactly was happening with my body. She started screaming in a language I did not understand, waving her arms frantically ad she ran over to me. Her face was contorted in fear and shock as she got on her knees and pushed me towards the vanity so I was leaning on it. She was still screaming-- almost to the point of crying-- in the mysterious language I could not place for the life of me. She then started tugging off my sweater in a frantic panic, ripping it over my head to what I though was to get a better look at my mysterious wound. Instead what she was doing was searching my skin around my back before turned me around to her. She screamed again, tears flowing down her face in delight as she looked square at my breasts. I was confused, and quite frankly in pain from her rough handling. She grabbed my face in her soft hands and pulled me into her, sobbing uncontrollably into my bare shoulder as I stood stiff as a board at her antics. She still was sobbing in the language I did not understand, and holding me tightly as she did so.
"I'm sorry?" It was the only thing I could think of to say, too confused as to why she seemed to be crying tears of joy instead of sadness if anything at my wounds.
"Nonsense child, don't apologize to me. Just let me hold you." She bawled, shaking in my arms. The pressure pushed on my wounds but for some reason they didn't hurt as much. I just stood there until she was all cried out and she backed up. Her snot and tears were running down my shoulder, and I was a little grossed out but happy she had regained her bearings. Her disheleved outfit and reddened face were a contrast to the pale and pristine room, but it offered a bit of humanity aspect to the cold and unfeeling room. I had a peek down at my chest, wondering why she was screaming with joy T my breasts or bra which were quite frankly nothing to be happy about. That's when I saw it. There was a seven pointed star mark at the top of my breasts it dipped down almost between them. It was black, and glittered a bit with gold energy.
"What the fuck is that?" I jumped, trying to scratch at my skin as if to rip the skin off of the new mark but Ziva stopped me.
"Stop! Thats a mark of a white witch!" She called out and I froze in place.
"If a white witch did this, why do I have all these wounds." Ziva screwed her mouth shut, clearly unwilling to spill anymore secrets than she already had. I could feel her almost brimming with them, waiting for them to come crashing out like a turned on faucet. I grew suspiciousof her behavior, but the daydream came flooding back to me. It was no coincidence that these marks came after that daydream. No coincidence that this mark appeared, and clearly no coincidence that Marie reared her ugly head on this day. Everything felt like something much larger and everyone was withholding secrets. I felt like even when those secrets would be revealed, pieces of this intricate puzzle of magic and murder would still be missing.