12 XII

Samty remains unmoving at the opposite end of the room.

After all the commotion of him nearly losing consciousness all because he can't quite get ahold of what was thrown at him that his lungs ceases its function, he hastily backed away on the flocks of heads that's peering down on him. Barricading himself to everyone made possible by the long sturdy table between them. He's sitting on his butt against the cold wall below a closed window that is nailed with planes of woods to reprimand the sun's rays to cross over. Knees folded up to his heaving chest and head tucked in his arms, a reenactment of what he had done back on the forest to try and calm his self down.

He can't possibly swallow this kind of bitter life he had unmistakably thrown his self into. He's just fully oppose to the idea of fighting his excuse for a life head-on without much of a weapon. He wasn't ready to fend for himself because even though he's older and more mature like most says, a person who is used to being a burden to others will never know how hard it is to burden someone—let alone themselves. And that's exactly where Samty found himself once his father died in his arms.

Food will never be really that difficult for him to handle since some eateries are giving their wasted food to them and the forest is open for everyone. But authorities at your tail and a possible stack of huge money placed on your head weighs more than he can carry on his own. So, without much of a thought what will happen, he run off.

That he did successfully.

That he did successfully except, all praise to his graciously rotten luck, he got his neck in a silver platter on the hands of these blood-suckers that are currently staring him down like a pitiful meat—or maybe it's just him seeing things.

Samty winced internally from the catcall. The name he placed next to their kind when he was still young now sounds absurd and made a sour taste on his tongue seeing that he's actually, much to his total denial, one of them right this very moment. This thought made him shudder and further buries himself on the wall with its chipping paint.

His small back feeling the prickly surface of it digging on his skin as he dare to lift his face up to its hiding place, trying to have a glance at the owners of four pairs of eyes. But his eyes first landed on the small splatters of blood far next to the long chair. The time earlier when he came back to complete consciousness, the first thing that greeted him was the face of Fermon inches close to his with his arm on his mouth. His tongue savoring the metallic taste of the blood as his canines are deep sunk on his flesh.

Samty absentmindedly lick his lips.

He blinks getting himself out his trance. Shaking the thought off it on his mind as he tear his gaze away from it. Instead, he squinted between the offered gap of his arms and messy locks of tangled hair pass onto the lone rays of sun that made his view of the others a bit brighter than necessary. But, still, all are the same.

Their faces are of a worry, nothing more nothing less. He bit the present flesh where his mouth rested on his arm to stop the whine that his throat wanted to cry out as he got surprised by their bustle of words coming in quick strides, pushing harshly each other in his head.

"Can you stop talking for a second?!"

He yelled for a difference and closed his eyes tight, arms unwrapping from his folded knees to make way for his hands to block his ringing ears. Pointlessly trying the words to stop coming in like a bunch of birds fighting for a scrape of bread. He doesn't understand any of their crossing words that continuously punch him like crashing waves on a solid rock under a mad hurricane, overwhelming him to the highest peak.

But a lone stern voice gracefully glides among the chaos of it and Samty, against of it all, clearly hears them.

' Shut it. Shut it so no one can come in. Shut it. Concen— '

'How—?!—possibly can I—! Stop! Don't talk! I can't! Please! I—'

Samty abruptly opened his eyes, incredulity perfectly shown on his pale face. Vision zeroing on the trail of ants that are marching on one corner of the room. Ever so slowly as he can, he pulled his palms off to the sides of his head to free his ears from the hard press it gives. Leaving him with bright red ears as his eyes blown so wide gaping down on the unsuspecting tiny workers.

It's the serenity of the morning that met him. Gone the rush of piling words, they were no longer bombarding his head as it is now replaced by the low whistle of the wind and the twitters of the lively birds lounging on the branches of the trees outside. He blinks to the sudden shift of noise and waited for the further instructions of them voice but nothing came. Only the sound of the wild is breaking the peaceful silence he had acquired, unexpectedly making the cautious step towards somewhere coming from the huddled crowd at the other end of the room be magnified.

His head snaps to his side from where it was lined together with the wall, almost giving himself a whiplash, with another expression of newfound fear displaying on his face. Mind going on some gored scenarios about what will be the deal to them now of him being here if he wasn't a food to be placed on their dinner table.

A slave to death? Their feeder? Samty forces his mind to stop with its thoughts.

"D-don't come—AHH!"

He tried to stop the further movements of whoever it was that wanted to break out of the mass of standing bodies. Yet, as he held his hand up to sign for a halt, his arm came in contact with the lone bright ray of the sun passing through the small crack that immediately shoots pain on his very much allergic skin. Samty retracted his limb back faster than when a lightning strikes as it was intensely burnt with only that bit of an exposure. He hissed in pain and rubs the irritated skin to hopefully soothe it before he set his eyes on the tortured part of his arm. And he wasn't really prepared to see his supposedly only-painted-with-red-itchy-patches allergic skin looking like it had been chipped open by some sharp blade.

"W-what.."

He watched with saucers eyes the skin on the inner part of his forearm as it slowly healed itself like a puzzle putting it's pieces together. The ones looking like a grotesque skinned flesh is back to being his pale delicate skin that is allergic to sunlight. Or was it?

"Okay, Samty, you need to listen"

When in the process of leaning far back away from the man who is now crouching in front him, he hit his head on the dented part of the wall but the howl of pain died down his throat as he thickly swallowed. Words of protests and pleading all stuck up in his chest as he stared on the man before him.

"That thing on your arm"

He can only vaguely see, with all the tears pooling on his eyes, the jerk of the latter's chin to his left arm that he still cradle with his right since it was the one who had been... pained. From the tone of voice that seems to have come down from six feet underground, his mind registered that it was the bone-crusher man who had approached him. But in spite of his fear to the aforementioned man, his eyes that previously blindly seeing the figure was then drawn down by his arm that's suspiciously suddenly become the center of the talk when it should have to be his stand in this household. If ever the concern on their eyes are true, that he surely hopefully are but still a bit cautious about it, then why?

"It's... it shouldn't be there. Where did you get it?"

Samty was about to rant about his allergy reacting strangely too much from how it is used to be when his eyes then caught the snake-like steel lace of the necklace that he saw sitting inside their tent. The pendant that went to melt in his skin is back at resurfacing on the living with nothing but an itchy touch now on his skin.

Samty had completely forgotten about it since he never felt his arm burn again or just lightly sting from it from the couple of times it had hurt him. Well, he wasn't entirely sure considering after the ruckus out the clearing he fell asleep for the whole day yesterday.

He blinks down owlishly on it and watch in utter bemusement as the resurfaced pendant of the jewelry sinks down back the second time to his arm with none of the previous burn at all.

"I don't know, I.. I-I just found it lying inside our tent"

He honestly said because, come on, what better it would do on lying to them when they all have the upper hand here?

He lift his gaze up to the man in front of him that's busy silently eyeing the now vanished trace of jewelry on his arm. It seems that his skin had eaten it again fully with nothing but red lone lines marring the abandoned surface. Samty lightly scratch the irritated part with a frown.

"You can't just be a half-blood from this..."

"You're scaring the lad, bone-crusher"

Suddenly, without his knowledge at all, the three that was aslo previously standing across the room are now folding their bodies to peer down at where the two are having a hushed conversation. Skillfully dodging the rays of lights coming from the window in their front. Hearing the voice, those words definitely came from Fermon and the man in front of him quickly changed his serious face into a frown from the name he had been called to.

"Bone-what now? You named me that, didn't you?"

Samty instinctively shakes his head to disagree. Though it is true, he wasn't very excited to get on his nerves and have himself be gifted again by another horrible bruise. The one he still have glares at him from where his wrist lays limply on his thighs.

"Just call me Amtari—and you weakling—"

"Why is everyone calling me that?!"

"It can't be, 'Tari. That fruit has no means to turn someone into a full-fledged vampire"

Samty's eyes went to Tarim as she quietly occupy the space where Amtari had been crouching onto. Her eyes were fixed to his pale arm that's free from any image of the necklace. But the absence of it didn't stop her to trace a line on his skin. It's light and soft and he involuntarily quiver from the touch. He inch his arm away from the outstretched finger and licked his lips, eyes darting first to his covered neck by his dress before looking at his own clean bare feet. Not meeting her gaze as she trained her eyes now on his face.

"A-about yes—I m-mean the other d-day"

His stuttering went as an airy whisper for the two below the bickering words of the three standing on their full height. Samty can see behind the shadows of his long hair the small inviting smile on her lips that also got slowly mirrored by him albeit hesitantly. She lift her hand up to level his bowed head and reached her pointer finger out to poke his cheek as she let out a strained giggle to lighten up the mood.

"I also remember so don't worry, and I already talked to Celo about it. Besides, I'm thankful because you woke me up"

His head springs up to properly look at her irises that radiates calmness as her words came out as riddle for him. But before he can even voice out the question to her, a loud cry resounds at the next room.

"Are you done there?! We have a situation here!"