Chapter 8: The Curse

When the light subsided, the squealing creature disappeared once again. Desmond wasn’t sure what he had done nor did he know how he had done it, but at least for now they were safe. Except the attack had left Mykel injured and unconscious. This much, he was able to confirm once the creature was gone. Mykel was still alive somehow, despite having had a hand thrust through his torso.

It wasn’t safe for them to be out on the main streets now. With Mykel out of commission, Desmond didn’t want to find out how long it would take for any of those creatures to show up again or even for that larger one to come back.

That meant, his only option was to drag Mykel into the shelter of one of the nearby buildings. Exactly what he was going to do with an injured man there, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like there was anyone around that could provide medical attention.

Despite his doubts, Desmond hoisted the unconscious Mykel up as best as he could. His body was larger than his own and Mykel was taller than he was, so it ended up with Desmond half-dragging him over to the entrance of the nearest shop. Heaving Mykel over was proving to be a task in itself, which was why he was thankful when Lydia suddenly appeared in the doorway. She held the door open for Desmond while he fumbled in over the threshold.

“I saw the whole thing,” she explained after she shut and secured the door they came through.

“It got Mykel before he noticed it was there,” Desmond grunted out.

With a wet thud, he sat Mykel down on the floor and propped him up against a counter in the back of the shop. Once he was free of the extra weight, Desmond stood up to his full height and watched the unconscious man.

His body slumped forward where it sat and he had already lost a good deal of blood from the open wound in his abdomen. Desmond couldn’t help but feel just a little bit responsible for it. If he had said something when he saw the thing, Mykel might not have suffered such a grave injury. Now he wasn’t sure what they were going to do.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Lydia spoke softly to him. “Mykel can’t necessarily die this way.”

“What do you mean?” Desmond asked her without taking his eyes off Mykel.

“Keepers are in a state of life and death themselves. A living soul with no physical body, actually. He can be injured like a normal human could, but he wouldn’t die from it. It would just mean that the creatures from The Dark would increase. The Echo becomes more dangerous for us wandering souls and worse for lost souls. Sometimes humans get hurt, too, as a result,” she said.

“You mean because he would be out recovering, right?” Desmond turned to look at her.

Lydia gave a nod. “Yes. Mykel has had his share of injuries over the years. He always recovers.”

“That thing is out there still. The one with the skeleton-like face. I don’t think anyone can afford to wait for him to recover right now,” he shook his head.

Desmond knelt down beside Mykel. Again, he had no idea how he was going to help him but something told him that if he didn’t try, it wouldn’t be good for anyone. Besides, Desmond had managed to protect them. So there had to be something he could do, right? If anything, it didn’t hurt to try. There was no way Desmond would be able to take Mykel’s place. That burst of light he had done felt more like a fluke than anything.

Carefully, he pulled away the coat that hung from Mykel’s slumped form. The shirt he wore beneath it was wet around the wound and torn from the impact. Desmond was afraid to touch him because he worried it might stir Mykel awake, but he forced himself to reach forward anyway.

Gently, he smoothed his palm down Mykel’s abdomen until his fingers found the source of the bleeding. Another pang of guilt struck him at the touch of the gaping wound. Desmond hoped he could find some way to help Mykel in the very least.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked.

“I’m not sure, honestly. Out there I used some weird light to fight that thing off. So, I was thinking if I could use it again, maybe it might help heal his wound,” Desmond replied.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever tried that before. Those light powers are exclusive to the Keeper,” Lydia said, surprised by his words.

Desmond nodded. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been marked or cursed or whatever into being the next one.”

Lydia grew quiet to his statement. So quiet in fact, that Desmond had to turn to look at her in order to ensure that she was still there. She was, but she was watching him closely. He wasn’t sure why she had become so silent and so focused suddenly.

It had him feel a little more nervous that his idea might not work. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was something on her mind or if she was just simply waiting to see what would happen when he did try to heal Mykel.

“Lydia?” he asked.

“Sorry, I’m still here. Just waiting to see if this works,” she responded.

Desmond felt like there was something she wasn’t telling him, but he wasn’t going to press the issue. He had to focus on trying to use that light power again so he could make an attempt to heal Mykel.

Dropping the subject from his mind for now, he turned his attention back to Mykel and pressed his palm just a little harder against his wound. Everything Atlas had taught him thus far had been about focus, so he figured that maybe with this light power it was the same thing. He just needed to focus on bringing it out.

When several minutes passed and nothing happened, Desmond was about to give up. Just before he pulled his hand away though, he noticed a soft glow beneath it. He couldn’t help the smile that came across his features at the sight of it. It seemed that taking what he had learned from Atlas had paid off, after all. Now he just needed to keep his focus long enough to keep the light pressed to Mykel’s wound.

“What are… you doing?” Mykel croaked.

The sound of his voice made Desmond jump. He hadn’t even realized that Mykel had regained consciousness in the time he spent trying to force the light to stay on his wound. Sure enough, Mykel had moved a hand to grip the wrist of the hand Desmond had pressed to his body. His grip was weak enough though that if Desmond had wanted to pull out of it, he could. It was clear by the sound of his voice that Mykel was still in a great deal of pain.

“I’m trying to help you. I don’t know what this will do, but I think it might work. At least a little bit,” Desmond responded.

“Why.? I would have attacked you if I hadn’t gotten ambushed,” Mykel said.

Desmond nodded. “I know. But it didn’t feel right to just leave you there like that.”

“You have to stop… the curse will…” Mykel spoke while he tried to move from where he sat up against the counter.

After a verbal wince and a grimace from pain that obviously surged through him, Desmond pressed back on Mykel’s abdomen and forced him back. Mykel was larger than he was and muscular, but in his condition he couldn’t fight back against Desmond’s hands.

Desmond wasn’t really sure what he was trying to say about the curse and he was sure he would find out what it meant sooner or later. Right now though, his focus was on trying to heal up Mykel’s wound the best he could.

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse,” Desmond insisted. “I’m not sure how long I can keep this up. But I don’t think it’s a good idea if you stay out of commission for too long.”

“Your curse will get worse,” Mykel said through another grimace. “The more you use your power and the more open you are to The Echo, the faster you’ll become bound here.”

“Yeah, I’ve started to notice the mark growing. Like I tried to say earlier, I just want to get rid of it,” Desmond responded.

“That’s the thing… I’ve been trying to do the same thing for the last five hundred years,” Mykel scoffed.