tw gore, suicide, and one curse word

"Holy mushroom caterpillar cakes," Adahlia breathed. The man tucked into the corner of the alley hissed, revealing completely black teeth dripping in some kind of red substance. She really, really, really hoped it wasn't blood.

As all the shadows of the alley parted and drifted away, the rest of the man became clear. His clothes were torn, his eyes bloodshot, and his skin chalky and pale. There was a deranged look in his eyes that had Daxelle backing up, her shoulder bumping into Iaelie.

She whirled around and saw almost everyone looking at her. Avanth's eyes were trained on the palm of his hands, a terror-like expression crossing his face.

Daxelle took a shaky breath and turned back to the man, his hands planted against the wall like he was prepared to bolt.

"D-did he—was he the one who killed . . ." Zadyn whispered, his voice far away.

"I think so," Iaelie breathed, her hand touching Daxelle's elbow, holding on as if she were about to die. And maybe they were, the man before them—if he was a man—was capable of flat-out murder.

From his place across the alley, Daxelle could sense his gaze solely on her. And when she looked into his dark eyes, she felt a sense of connection so strong she stumbled back slightly. She scanned his face and under all the gore, there was a hint of familiarity. 

She stretched her consciousness and felt around the barrier over his mind. The shield was unlike any other she's seen before. Black obsidian guarded his thoughts and not a single crack was found. But she sent a strong jolt of power through their mental connection and the gates came tumbling down.

His head was empty, devoid of any thoughts besides the primal urge to kill.

If he sensed her presence there, he didn't show it as he continued his staredown against her. Dark pits bore into her inner self and she shoved against his mind, willing him to stand down. A snarl ripped out of the half-man in front of her and she pushed again, forcing his consciousness down to submit to her.

When he fought back, she slammed his mind back down and blocked off his subconscious thoughts to breathe.

When he started choking, Iaelie braced a hand against her shoulder and stared anxiously between the tense staring contest between Daxelle and the psychotic creature.

"Daxelle," she whispered.

Her hold against the man loosened just enough for him to pounce. But not at them. He ran for the gutter and was prepared to bolt when Zadyn's hand shot out and caught him in the air. The half-man struggled against his hold, kicking his legs in midair, and spoke in an inhuman voice.

"You will never hold me. We will not submit to a half-blood," he snarled as he pulled out a dagger concealed in his tunic and stabbed himself in the chest.

Adahlia screamed and Zadyn rushed forward. Still floating in the air, the half-man dangled limply as he reached a hand up to touch his bloody chest, willing the skin to knit together as it had for Avanth with his dagger wound.

"No, no, no," he muttered, lowering the half-man back onto the ground.

His hand was still positioned over the gash in the man's chest and there was a faint light in the shadowless alley. Daxelle and Iaelie approached cautiously and she saw that when Zadyn pulled his hand back, it was stained black—along with the half-man's shirt and dagger.

"We can't—we have to report this to the police," Daxelle said.

"How do we explain the black blood?" Iaelie countered, her hand releasing itself from Daxelle's arm. "And we might be suspects if they believe this is murder." She let herself look at the dark stain on the ground, spreading like a disease under the limp body. She shuddered, a hurricane of thoughts slamming against the front of her mind, begging for attention.

"We can't just leave him here," Adahlia added, stepping up next to them. Her eyes were pinned on the half-man's chest, grief and sympathy warring on her face.

"Do we . . . bury him?" Daxelle asked, her stomach churning. She glanced up and away from the blood, her hands clenching into fists.

Avanth's hoarse voice chimed in from behind them. "I'll go with Adahlia to bury him outside town. You guys can clean up the blood." His eyes met the elemental fae's and she nodded. Daxelle watched silently as they approached the body together and picked him up.

She kept her gaze away from the black blood underneath the half-man.

"Ok, let's just, uh, clean it up. Zadyn, could you stay here while we go buy bleach and towels? You're kinda . . . bloody," Daxelle said. He nodded dutifully and stood over the stain on the cobblestone as Adahlia and Avanth slipped out of the alley and quickly away.

Daxelle swallowed hard, taking a deep breath and almost choking from the horrible stench of copper in the air. Blood.

Iaelie turned to the light of the outside world and started for the exit. Daxelle followed but glanced behind her as they turned the corner. Zadyn nodded from where he stood, half-hidden by the darkness starting to creep back into the alley and she wondered if this is what they've become now. A band of misfits who are blatantly disregarding the law by covering up a death.

+ + +

Daxelle trailed Iaelie on the streets as they made their way to a convenience store that hopefully sold bleach and towels—or anything to help remove blood, Daxelle didn't really particularly care. When Iaelie made a beeline towards a store called 24-hour Care, she followed and when the bell jingled merrily, the aroma of fresh honey slammed her in the face and she realized how hungry she was.

She scanned the shelves lined up along the perimeter of the room and found jars of whatever the heck this place was selling. In the center of the room was a circular receptionist-style desk with an old woman sitting on a stool hovering over a pile of paperwork.

"Ma'am? Sorry for bothering you, but do you happen to have bleach on hand?" Iaelie asked civilly. 

The old woman turned one eye on them and scrutinized them for a second before pointing a gnarled finger at a row of carefully placed bleach bottles. Iaelie quickly thanked her and went over to the bleach containers.

She picked up the closest one to her and turned it onto its back, reading the ingredients carefully.

"What are you looking for? Isn't bleach, just bleach?" Daxelle asked cautiously.

"We need strong bleach, with a lot of chlorine to dissolve the black blood," Iaelie responded in a conspiratory whisper. Daxelle nodded and watched as Iaelie read the percentages for the different chemicals in the bleach.

She saw Iaelie's shoulders tense and her brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Iaelie stiffened further. "Yes, of course. Now let me read the labels." Her tone was clipped and left no room for argument.

When she found a bottle that was satisfactory, she went up to the cashier woman and paid in cash. As they walked out, before Daxelle could ask Iaelie about the towels, she had already turned towards another store and walked in without a single word. Daxelle had no choice but to follow.

This time when they walked in, a blast of cool air met her in the doorway and she almost sighed in relief at the blissful coldness of the air conditioning. It was an absolute microwave outside and she felt like she was a mushroom cake baking on the streets. In the cool air, her muscles relaxed and she realized how tired she was. She was exhausted mentally and physically, especially with the added anxiety of hiding a fricking body.

This time, Iaelie was quick to find a pile of thick towels and quickly bought them before leaving—y'know, like a good citizen.

Daxelle felt an unexplainable tension between them and wanted so desperately to break it, so she asked the first stupid question that came to mind. "Do you remember the way back?"

Iaelie gave her a side-eye before swiftly nodding. Daxelle sighed softly and they continued the walk back in complete silence, each step towards the haunted dark alley a brick being built between them.

 + + +

When they got back to the alley, Zadyn was the only one there. Daxelle faintly wondered if Adahlia and Avanth were good—if they had been caught or not. For the first time in her life, she desperately wished that they were burying a body and not wandering the safe streets of Eyra.

"You guys get it?" Zadyn asked as he stepped aside to reveal the stain of blood. Since the time they had left to get the supplies, the black blood had somehow darkened, the unholy shade of black like a giant rip in space. Like if you stepped over the puddle of blood, you would find yourself falling into the In-Between. 

Daxelle saw Iaelie nod from the corner of her eye and she lifted the towel clenched in her fist. Iaelie approached the dark stain and dropped to her knees immediately, dousing the darkness with a bottle of chlorine bleach. With each splash of liquid, the darkness separated like shadows dissolving until all that remained were broken-up patches of black wisps.

Iaelie turned back to face Daxelle and wordlessly asked for the towels she was holding. Taking a cautious step forward, Daxelle watched the black liquid shimmer with the dim afternoon sunshine from the entrance of the alley. She handed over the stack of towels and watched silently as Iaelie started scrubbing at the mess. Zadyn stepped closer and took a towel, bending over to rub at the other end of the puddle. Too late, Daxelle realized she should be helping. But the puddle of blood, the female figure bent over the blackness and scrubbing for dear life. It was too familiar. Except, in this case, it wasn't Daxelle cleaning up her father's mess. It was Iaelie—who was now looking at her expectantly.

"Are you going to keep standing there?" she asked, not-so-softly.

The harsh tone . . . no matter how hard she had tried to get over her past, all of it came crashing back as Iaelie sat back onto her heels and stared at her with dark eyes.

"I—" she heard her voice crack and immediately shut up. "Yeah, uh, no. I'll . . . help."

She slowly stepped forward and dropped to her knees, a shaky hand reaching out to grab onto the third towel Iaelie had bought. She started scrubbing the dark stain in a circular motion, aiming to loosen the blood rather than push it away, a stark contrast to the way Iaelie was furiously moving the rag in two directions. Zadyn watched her for a second before following her lead.

They all remained silent and they continued scrubbing, alternating between dousing the stain with bleach and cleaning the blood. The sickening smell of bleach filled the alleyway and the clear liquid on the ground turned dark obsidian real quickly.

After a few more minutes of ruthless scrubbing, the dark stain turned a dark gray, then a light gray, then the color of cobblestones. After a quick survey of the ground surrounding them, the slightly discolored stones could be mistaken for a piss puddle. 

The smell, however, would have to be covered up. The bleach was a telltale indicator that something had been scrubbed clean here.

"How do we—" Iaelie began as Daxelle took out a bottle of perfume she had swiped from the jar store. Iaelie paused, "Where did you get that?"

"I got it, didn't I?" she responded before spritzing the dark stain aggressively. When the distinctive bleach smell became the intoxicating scent of fresh flowers and honey, Daxelle stopped and capped the bottle.

Iaelie watched her with a thoughtful expression playing across her face, but then her eyes focused on something behind Daxelle.

"Buried seven feet under," Adahlia said as a greeting. Iaelie snorted but offered the dirt-stained pair a grim smile.

"Let's go back to the house, I need to be de-blood-ified as soon as possible," Daxelle muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

+ + +

They kept to the shadows as they slipped by all the streets of Eyra on their way to Zadyn's house, hoods up and conversation stilled. All five of them trailed after the physical manipulator, his steady gait despite the layer of blood crusting over all of them, leaving the remaining four slightly behind. 

"I hate the climb," Avanth grumbled, yet somehow not breaking a sweat. Daxelle could have been compared to the Big Bad Wolf with the way she was huffing and puffing the whole fucking block away. She had to admit, she had been severely . . . not exercising.

After the treacherous climb, they finally made it into the house and she flopped down on the nearest piece of furniture—which happened to be an ottoman. So she was dramatically draped over a footrest? Great.

Adahlia dropped down next to her and patted her arm, "You're not alone in this, Dax."

She gave Adahlia a side-eye, "I don't see you dying."

"Don't worry, I am," she replied, leaning against the ottoman, therefore Daxelle herself. Zadyn snorted at the both of them as he announced he was going upstairs to shower, and that there was another bathroom downstairs.

"No, Zadyn, get back here! You don't understand how much my legs hate you right now!" Daxelle groused teasingly, flopping her arm over her eyes to block out the light.

Adahlia laughed lightly as she stood up and walked away with Avanth towards the sitting room. That left Daxelle with . . . Iaelie. She still couldn't understand the sudden tension that seemed to have spawned overnight. They had been fine before, and Daxelle couldn't pinpoint the moment that had changed. Iaelie seemed to be barely able to tolerate her.

They had been fine this morning, but had that one comment about Iaelie's wellbeing from Daxelle really cause this entire trainwreck?

She peered up at the female leaning against the doorframe, half of her face cast in shadows. Daxelle glanced at Iaelie's hair like she always did when she could get away with it, but the ebony black hair was practically begging to be admired. Daxelle could hear the little hair strands in her mind, Look at me, I'm so pretty, right? I look like a new car, yes?

Her eyes traced the white swirls painted on Iaelie's hair, or however the bright ink found itself on the dark strands.

It was honestly, the prettiest head of hair Daxelle had ever seen. She glared at the loose strands of silver hair hanging over her face and blew them up and away. Her eyes drifted back towards Iaelie and she found her staring back.

"Yes?" Iaelie asked with an eyebrow raised. Daxelle froze and dropped her gaze. She didn't know how to answer that question. If Iaelie was even looking for one. "Can I ask you something?" 

Daxelle met Iaelie's eyes and wondered why she was being so . . . weird. Iaelie was watching Daxelle with her dark eyes narrowed and her back straight. It was slightly nerve-wracking.

"Sure?" Daxelle responded.

"Why did it look like you wanted to pass out when we were cleaning the blood?" Iaelie asked, a tinge of something like concern in her voice. Daxelle paused for a completely different reason this time. She didn't have the mental energy to shove her thoughts away, so she answered as honestly as possible—no filtering.

"My dad had me cleaning up lots of blood puddles when I worked for him at his old tavern," Daxelle muttered.

Iaelie's eyes widened, like the mention of anything personal had shocked the animosity from her. "Blood? Like from brawls?"

"I guess you could say that," she answered slowly.

"What type of tavern did your father own?" Iaelie asked, her head tilted, her body a lot more animated and open. Daxelle relaxed a little.

"My dad, Marcelius Grenge, owned a fight club basically. I was a waitress for him and served drinks to the people watching the brawls." Daxelle watched Iaelie's expression carefully, making sure she only caught what she needed to hear. Iaelie only nodded in confusion, apparently not knowing what to say—understandable—and said "oh".

"Yeah . . . does that answer your question?" Daxelle asked.

Iaelie cleared her throat at looked Daxelle right in the eye, "Is that all? It must have been hard and you can talk to me. I hope you know that." Honestly, Daxelle had no idea how to interpret Iaelie's mood swings, but she was glad there was no more hostility between them, or at least for now.

" . . . yeah, that's all. There isn't much to it," she responded. Iaelie gave her a long look laced with suspicion, but she let the subject drop and sat down on the ground next to Daxelle.

There was another stretch of silence, but it was comfortable. There was no need to fill it with anything, but Daxelle wanted to say something, once again. And that feeling reminded her of their walk back to the alleyway. The strange tension in the air. And Iaelie's cold tone. She wanted to ask about that, but she didn't know how Iaelie would react. Would she get mad at Daxelle and then the crushing tension would swoop right back in?

Daxelle would take her chances.

"Iaelie?" she asked, hoping her voice wasn't too pitchy. When the warrior turned her head in question, Daxelle continued. "I—you don't have to answer, but . . . what was that? On the walk back to Zadyn?"

"What?"

"The walk. Why did it feel so . . . stressful and weird?"

"I don't understand."

Daxelle kept eye contact with Iaelie as she sat up, leaning slightly forward. "It felt so . . . tense. Are you mad at me? Pissed off?"

Iaelie dropped her gaze, "No, I'm not mad. Confused, I guess. A little bit stressed. But not mad, never at you." Iaelie paused thoughtfully. "I was . . . a bit resentful, though. I didn't feel like . . . I understood everything."

It was Daxelle's turn to be confused. She still didn't understand anything that had happened between Iaelie and her, but to be fair, Iaelie wasn't making complete sense. 

"I was scared though. Everything that was happening . . . it was too fast. Too much. I had hated everything about it at first, but then it became exciting. Like an adventure. An escape, I guess. I can't always deal with reality, I guess I was just using the situation to my advantage, y'know? To help myself." Iaelie finally looked up, her eyes full of an emotion like trust. It was so open, so inviting. But her last words finally registered with Daxelle.

"So, you're using me?" she asked. She remembered the hand Iaelie had placed on her shoulder earlier that day. And all the little touches on the bus. And the bond that had developed since she had rescued Iaelie and Avanth from the facility.

Stiffly, she stood up to leave.

"What? Wait, Daxelle—"

"Nevermind. You know what, I don't even know why I asked. Sorry," Daxelle said coldly. Iaelie looked stunned as she walked briskly out of the room.

june 23 2022
𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖍𝖊𝖊, 𝐁𝐚𝐢
© azalyme ₂₀₂₂