The vibration of frantic footsteps on carpet kept him conscious but, no noise could be heard. It was like he went deaf. He vaguely felt pressure on his left side as he was rolled onto his back by the father and Andy. An ear-splitting screech was barely heard as the faces of the family were blurry. All he could do was stare off into the distance, not really noticing the room. Why would they help him? Look what he did to their house, he didn't deserve their kindness, and coming here was a mistake, he thought. Zemar then suddenly felt his chest tighten in pain as his lung collapsed and couldn't breathe anymore as he started to gasp for air, only able to take quick breaths in. His eyes flicker between crimson and normal as he used his large wings to roll over and start to crawl, feeling his arms shake and tremble as he knocked the short, rectangular coffee table over. It's grey colour was strong against the beige carpet. He didn't know why or where he was going to crawl to, but he just needed to get somewhere safe as he pushed the black pleather couch aside. He felt sick to his stomach, he was sick as he vomited blood. The retching sound seemed to echo in the distance, and he didn't realize that it was him that was doing it. He continued to head towards the soft glow that came from the kitchen light before he stopped as the wetness on the floor finally registered in his brain. He glanced down at the soft carpet with a glazed over look and saw thick red liquid drain from his body. His stomach lurched again and he watched the slop get bigger and bigger with every convulsion. It hypnotized him long enough for someone to body slam him to the floor once more. He was rolled onto his back again but, this time he was able to recognize a face and it was Andy. The teenager had sat on his chest to prevent Zemar from getting up, as blood ran out both corners of his large mouth. His sharp teeth were deep red as the copper taste brought him back to reality,
"A-Andy..." he breathed before he went unconscious.
Andy gently slapped the Demon's furry cheeks,
"Oi! Zemar? Stay with us buddy," Andy called but, there was no response. Zemar was out cold,
"Mom! What do we do?" Andy stared at his mother in desperation,
"I-I..." she bit her lip,
"Mom!! Please!" Andy begged. His large hazel eyes wide with fear as his light blue jeans soaked up the blood to stain them in a tie dye effect, Liz took a couple deep breaths and quickly ran down the hall. Andy thought she had abandoned them but, she returned with her medical bag and his father's electric razor.
"Plug me in. I need to see where he's bleeding from," she held out the end of the cord towards Andy, and with a nod he jumped off to plug it into the closest wall outlet. The low buzz was interrupted by loud, almost paper-like shredding sounds, as it easily removed the Demon's thin fur. It didn't take Liz long to clean the area as she had her fair share of stitching injuries and they were bullet wounds. Liz checked for a pulse first to make sure that Zemar was still with them, but under the pressure of her arm, blood squirted at her. It smeared her cheek and she went into overdrive, every time Zemar took a breath it would squirt.
"I need gauze! And lots of it! Whoever shot him caused his right lung to collapse and nicked a major blood vessel," Liz ordered like she was back in the ER room, she was a trauma nurse and this was nothing new. Andy and Rick took whatever Liz was dishing out, Andy was in charge of medical equipment while Rick kept Zemar's heart pumping. Liz had a face mask and gloves on before she started operations,
"Forceps!"
"Forceps," Andy repeated as he handed her long, stainless steel forceps.
Liz fished around in each hole to pull out bent, silver bullets before she patched it up with a sterile needle and thread. Things went smoothly for the first 3 injuries but, the last hole, that's when it got complicated.
"What's wrong Liz?" Rick asked as she hovered over the wound like she saw something unusual, and it felt like hours went by before she spoke with a shake to her tone.
"I-I can't do this... What happens when he wakes up..." Liz whispered as her hands began to shake. Liz was frozen by fear of the large Demon in front of her, each breath trembled, pins and needles ran up her arms as the forceps shook. Liz quickly stood up and took a few paces away to stand flat against the furthest wall in the room, her chest tightened and she felt nauseous from horrible thoughts. Thoughts of Zemar waking up and ripping them to shreds.
"Mom, you can't stop now. He could bleed out and die," Andy cried,
"I can't do it honey, I just can't! He'll be just like every other Demon..." Liz held her temples tightly and looked like her whole family had just died. Rick motioned Andy to take over compressions before he walked over to rub his wife's arms tenderly. He tried his best to calm Liz down before he pulled her in for a hug,
"It's alright dear, take a deep breath. He's out cold, you're safe," Rick's quiet tone was soothing.
"Rick..." Liz sighed when she looked up at the handsome man she married,
"If you feel like you can't finish, I can be your hands. You just need to tell me what to do," Rick cooed.
Liz inhaled sharply before slowly exhaled and walked back to Zemar's side,
"No... I-I can do it. I need to open him up to fix the torn vessel and drain his lung of fluid, I need a bucket and my 10" tubing from my bag," Liz seemed to glare at the Demon, like he did something wrong. Rick was quick to find the a bucket, it was actually the kitchen's garbage bin, and Andy handed her the long, plastic tubing.
"Andy, secure the tube to the bucket and as soon as the blood starts flowing, you need to use the gauze and hold the tube in his chest, can you do that?"
"Yes!" Andy saluted. Liz took a slow deep breath and continued her operation, blood was now flowing down the tube and Andy had a strong grip on Zemar's side ribs.
Liz tried her best to open up his chest but, she was just a little too short to reach and she had to sit on the Demon's stomach again. She was hesitant at first, she felt vulnerable being so close as she watched Zemar take laboured breaths. Fear still in her rich blue eyes as her shakes came back. Within that moment, she could just slit Zemar's throat and watch him bleed to death. This would be all over but, despite her natural response to run, she held the stainless-steel scalpel tightly and wanted to help. Liz's short brown hair fell to one side of her face as she crawled closer to his muscular chest. Her shoulders were trembling and before she even had a chance to cut, a large hand quickly clutched Liz's wrist, and she let out a loud shriek as dull, blue eyes stare deeply at her. They were almost like they were looking through her. Liz tried to pull away but, the vice grip only tightened and it guided the blade closer to the pale skin. The Demon's pupils were dilated, and he was obviously not conscious as his movements were robot like. Andy and Rick go to remove the hand, but Liz stopped them. The blade was rested firmly on the Zemar's flesh and was slowly pulled downwards, leaving a long, straight slice as blood bubbled to the surface to overflow down his sides. It cut the same place once more, and his hand went limp as a small moan rose from the Demon's throat.
Rick and Andy took a step back from the abnormal sound,
"Did he just..?" Andy inched closer and listened intently, half thinking it was his imagination. Liz was too scared and laser focused that she didn't hear the unusual sound, she just wanted this over and done with. Liz carefully reached inside Zemar's chest to find the ripped blood vessel as it squirted more blood, it splattered the couch and walls with its thick juice. The force of her hands in Zemar's chest cause another, louder moan to fill the silent room and his skin became flush, but not from the blood that gushed out the opening.
"Shush! I'm concentrating," Liz barked, she thought it was Andy or Rick trying to play a prank, or were just being childish. After Liz fixed the vessel, she moved her hand around in search of the tiny, metal object. She had to sink her petite arm in deeper, and Liz then felt her patient shiver with a sharp breath in just as something hard rubbed against her finger.
"Ah ha! There you are, you little bugger," she breathed and pulled out a flat, silver bullet, Liz exhaled and quickly stitched up the injury despite limited visibility.
"There! I did it, he should be... Oh God! What the Fuck is that?" Liz huffed when she tore off her blood soaked gloves and walked towards her husband's side until, something huge and pink caught her eye.
Andy inched closer,
"I think that's his..."
"Don't say it!... Just don't... I was sitting on top of him..." Liz covered her face quickly from the sight, as her cheeks turn bright red in both anger and embarrassment.
"Take him upstairs right now!" Liz demanded and threw the couch blanket over the Demon's lower half, Rick and Andy snickered to themselves. Something so serious somehow became comical in their mind.
"Stop fucking laughing!" Liz snapped and ran for the bathroom to clean up, they could still hear her grumbling.
That night, the moonlight resembled the ocean as it rippled in the inky blackness of the sky, but it wasn't so bright as to dull the glittering stars that speckled above. A silver beam splashed its glow onto the silent street. Bathing and illuminating the cold grey pavement as the trees were silhouetted against the deep, velvet, it's leaves dancing in the small breeze. A soft white light flowed through the cracked curtain of the second-floor window in pristine silence, and seemed to ignite every corner of the dull bedroom. It wasn't enough to devour the darkness that had been residing in the room, yet it was enough for a pair of eyes to bathe in the glow. The soft, shimmering light lit up speckles of dust to create the illusion that the area was filled with stars. It was a sight to wake up to, as Zemar rubbed his chest tenderly from the faint memory. They helped him again, but at what cost this time? What did he break? What did he ruin? he thought. He didn't remember anything after he saw Andy's face. Slowly he moved into an upright position and sat on the edge of the small queen-sized bed, his chest pulsed with pain. This bedroom was different. It was empty of personal things that would've claimed it as someone's, it reminded him of himself, empty. He had nothing, and nothing to give. He felt the guilt build back up, he must repay their kindness somehow and then leave.
He left the bedroom, the hallway was narrow, almost too narrow for him to walk through. It was hard not to accidentally knock anything over. At the bottom step he saw the aftermath, blood stained the beige carpet, gauze covered the floor in an attempt to soak up the liquid. It looked like the living room was turned into the emergency room at a hospital. He sighed and picked up the dirty gauze and the medical bag, he wiped the equipment clean even though they were already spotless before he put them back where they belong. He quietly threw the garbage away along with the bullets that were retrieved from his chest. It wasn't hard to find the bins, they were leaned against the side of the house on the paved driveway. He took a quick glance up at the sky, it was a clear night as you could see the man on the moon. He went back inside and continued to clean, it wasn't hard to find a bucket and bleach. It was a small house so, it wasn't too hard to find as they were usually in 3 places, under the kitchen sink, in the bathroom or the closest. The blood had dried so, it was going to take all night to clean the carpet. He wanted to make sure it was perfect. If it wasn't perfect, they would hate him. If it wasn't perfect, they would beat him.
After about an hour, his eyes begun to close softly as he was in and out of sleep. He had almost fell asleep scrubbing when a set of footsteps came downstairs with a squeal to accompany it and it made him flinch.
"I'm sorry..." he quickly apologized in a whisper, and he felt cold inside even when he sets a handcloth in the bucket of warm water.
"D-Did you clean the carpet?" he heard a woman's shocked tone behind, it was quiet for a moment before he nodded and stood up. His shoulders were hunched over,
"It's the least I could do... I'm sorry for causing more trouble," he couldn't stop apologizing, he felt like it was the right thing to say.
He slowly entered the kitchen to empty the bucket into the stainless steel sink, it resembled cherry flavoured Kool-aid but with a strong chemical smell. It threw your senses for a loop as he wanted to drink it, but it was bad.The woman leisurely followed and retrieved a glass from the upper cupboard, she looked tired. Small bags hung under her red eyes. It seemed like she was up for most of the night as well,
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly. Unsure if it was alright to make small conversation. The woman barely heard his soft whisper as she ran the tap beside him, then filled the glass with cold, crystal clear water.
"Yeah," her answer was quick before she guzzled the liquid,
"I have issues sleeping. Working as a trauma nurse you get use to being awake at all hours of days and nights," she stared at the half empty glass. Even thought she stood next to him, she looked to be off in the distance, not really registering that he was there. He knew he did something wrong; the woman didn't look at him the whole time. It was like she was afraid of him, which wasn't something new.
"I... I'm not good with these soft emotions. I wasn't really raised in uh... A stable environment but, I'm grateful to you and your family for helping me," he murmured as he gave the bucket a quick rinse, he half hoped that she didn't hear him. He felt embarrassed for saying something so kindhearted,
"Are you a bad Demon? Are you one of those that will murder us in the night despite what we did?" the woman was blunt; those were very specific questions. How was he going to answer without lying? he thought.
He stood silent for a few minutes as she stared, more like she glared at him.
"I'm not going to murder you but... whether I'm a bad Demon or not, that's up to you. Others have called me the worst of the worst while some have called me a friend. If I frighten you that much I'll leave right now," he spoke with as much truth as he could possibly provide, not knowing if it was enough to convince her. He could see the woman's tired gears work overtime as she processed his statement.
"Don't leave... Yes, I'm afraid of your kind," she confessed with a pause,
"But, Andy seems to really like you and I don't actually feel that threatened by you. Which is strange to say the least." Zemar felt the guilt subside a little and was replaced with something else. What was this new emotion? he thought as it wasn't something familiar. He nodded and turned to leave but paused just before he exited the kitchen,
"I'll never hurt you, or your family, ever," he promised before he headed up the stairway and into the room he woke up in.