When Darness Calls

It was cold. Freezing cold, and in eternal darkness.

In Light's dream it was cold; the air seemed as if a block of ice had blown deeply into it. The darkness was a whole other thing. There was no compromising with the darkness, it was as if someone had pulled blindfold over her eyes and shut out her vision. The only light that could have possibly been there would have been if she had imagined it, and that was an unattainable talent.

She just wished that the darkness would stop. The cold, she could handle. But the darkness seemed almost alive, though Light knew better than that. But, it seemed like a poison that was slowly draining into her very core.

The pain registered later than the darkness and cold. It felt like her insides were coming out, like someone or something was slowly sticking pins and needles deeply into her skin and pulling them out in slow and agonizing movements. The worst pain was in her heart, as it was slowly dying down.

But what was worst than the darkness, coldness, or even the pain was the silence. Usually, Light loved silence to collect her scattered and disjoined thoughts, but this silence was unnatural. Because, in this silence, Light couldn't hear herself breath.

*****

As soon as Dante got back home, he set the shaking and convulsing woman on the couch, trying to comfort her by holding her hand. He knew she couldn't feel his presence, because she was too far gone in the pain. It was fairly common for her to feel pain as all of her body functions shut down and began to change to fit her future life style.

He supposed he held her cold and clammy hands to comfort himself more than her. In some humans it wouldn't really work, or they would lose their mind through the fog of pain and agony. And the thought of that happening to this woman was making his thoughts somewhat muddled and anxious.

Blood no longer flowed so freely from her neck, and he could see that from some of his blood he had sprinkled on the wound was slowly beginning to close it together with a thin layer of skin. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and her body constantly surged up with stabs of pain. He knew that pain, because he had experience it centuries ago, it was hard to even keep your mind as you felt it throughout your body.

Dante just hoped that nobody was home, he didn't want to be questioned about this certain aspect at the moment. He had never changed a human before and he was faintly starting to panic. Not because of what they (meaning the four other younger vampires that were under his wing) would think, but he didn't really know anything to do that would stop the pain or hurry the process. The woman seemed young enough though, so the change probably wouldn't last but about several more hours at most.

Most changes occurred within a 20 hour period, but she looked relatively close to progressing stages. The first part occurred when all the body parts stopped what they were doing, and then when the venom began to litter throughout her body....the other...well the others would come soon enough. It really wasn't even fairly pleasant. Dante had watched the transformation before, but didn't have the faintest idea what to do. And he would have responsibility for the woman once she finally finished her change...if she did finish, due to him being the one or the "patron" who changed her.

Dante ran to the bathroom and grabbed a green towel, sprinkling it with cool water, then he ran back into the living room where she was slowly calming down. He dabbed at her forehead and brushed her hair back from her face, hoping this wouldn't last much longer. His nerves were being stretched thin, it was as if he were having a baby or something. Despite the relatively dark mood he was having, he had to laugh at the notion.

She moaned as if the pain, this was the part he hated. When the screaming began. But to his relief, she quieted down and her eyes began to twitch restlessly. And then, to his complete surprise, her eyes opened as if the motion was costing her a lot of pain. Her eyes fastened upon him and he could see the pain in the hazel depths. But she didn't scream. She just simply sat there and looked at him. For a while anyway, and then she ran her hand up to his face, and said, "It burns."

He tried to make his smile comforting, but he knew it didn't even relatively get past his eyes. But he tried never the less, and grasped her hand as if she were a lifeboat and he was drowning. She smiled in response, though she still gasped and twitched with pain once in a while. He tried not to concentrate on the pain, and found himself focusing on her fingers lazily tracing his face.

"I'm not in heaven, am I?" she questioned and he could see sorrow shining through her eyes. "I'll admit," she continued in the same sleepy tone, "That you could rightly be an angel, but heaven can't hurt this much, can it?" he didn't want to answer this question, it touched a dormant part in him for some odd reason, and scared him. He simply covered her hand with his and watched as she slowly faded back into oblivion.

******

Light opened her eyes.

Well, at least she attempted to open her eyes. But the pain that the motion sent through every particle of her being stopped her. The pain had faintly began to numb from the tips of her fingers, and she found that she could concentrate on her surroundings somewhat.

She felt cold. Not really all over, but in some parts of her body, the coldness had consumed her. Light tried to move any part of her body, but to her displeasure, nothing on her personnel would budge an inch. So she tried concentrating harder.

The worst pain was in her neck, but she clung to that pain because it felt somewhat different than the others.

This pain felt more like it had been inflicted on the outer surface of her body rather than on the inside. Most of her body felt as if her insides were being slowly taken out. She groaned slightly and finally managed to open one of her eyes a small slit.

To her surprise she saw an angel.

The angel looked at her, and was humming. She knew that he was doing it unconsciously. It seemed as if he didn't even really realize that he was doing it. When he saw that he eyes had opened, he looked somewhat surprised. It was amusing to watch the play of emotions run throughout his face, even though the pain was unbearable.

He had been dabbing her head with a refreshingly pleasant-feeling towel, but then he stopped, staring down at her with molten amber eyes. She idly thought that those were the most gorgeous eyes that she had ever seen. The eyes, at this moment had a small furrow in the middle of them. He seemed to not even notice he was doing that either. She reached up to his face, running her fingers along his jaw-line. The muscles in his jaw twitched as she ran her fingers along it. Then the pain came.

"It burns." she said quietly.

He smiled a sad smile at her, and she faintly wondered how it would look to actually see him laugh. What type of laugh would he have? Would it be a strong baritone? Or perhaps it was a high, yet masculine, soprano. She frowned as the pain hit her again, trying to concentrate on learning the shape of his face.

"I'm not in heaven, am I?" she asked this more to herself than to the angel in front of her. "I'll admit," she paused for a moment to look into his eyes. "That you could rightly be an angel, but heaven can't hurt this much, could it?" The pain coursed through her body again. The last thing she saw was those eyes.........those molten amber eyes. She drifted into her dreams carrying only that last memory.