Second chance at it

"Ah, can you see the Autumn Jay? It's your favorite", Ace spoke.

Jay had her eyes closed, listening.

Autumn was something she had craved for oddly. She felt the season, but despised it! It accelerated her triggers 10 times more than other time, and also slowed down the process. It acts reversely based on her situations. Sort of a guilty pleasure. It calmed her down abnormally, just before a supreme outbreak. She needed to stay on her guard each moment, being anxious!

She is never in her right mind or control during Autumn ...…that's why Ace had to add a few extra working hours just for her sake. He also gets sudden long beaks from his usual tasks because her dormant stage strikes without a notice. He loved spending those moments doing nothing and just imposing his clinginess on her, must to her resistance but yet giving up eventually. Most of the time in his cozy home, seldom out when Jay's feeling like it.

"Feeling like sight viewing today? Any hunch of an episode?", Ace asked jokingly.

"It was just yesterday", Jay replied.

Ace reminded her, but remembered himself. He was smart enough to pick up the pace on her mood during this season and had realized that it's her boosting season. Noticing the often changes, he had kept a regular track of her, being sure to keep them in check. Not wanting to repeat his very first mistake, ever!

Autumn, so lovely, dry and dusty. The time Jay had never wanted to go out. But things being different now, Ace, who had changed every little thing for her.

......................................................…..

I snap out of my senses, unknown to the trance I was just in. It felt so real for a moment. But then, I can catch up to reality pretty quick. And right now, the fucked-up reality hit right across my face really good.

The current situation, is something which I have never encountered waking up to before.

My head throbs. Not the episode, but a literal normal headache. I can feel the nerves vibrating through my skull as it sharpens up my pain when I try to forcefully tear up my eyes more open. I tackle more trouble stretching my palms, feeling them dried up unnaturally. Cracks of icky substance all over them.

Even in the darkness and with my blurry eyesight, I could see them drenched and dried in the very familiar liquid in my life.

But this time, for the first fucking time ....... I feel scared ...shocked, shivering and imagining the worst I could have done in my trance. Because the last time I remembered my mind drifting loose, I was practically leading out choked screams. The condition wasn't even worth describing. Nothing I can put in words. The often part played in my life, this liquid had never made any direct contact with me. A certain person made sure of that. But this time ...…...!!!

I couldn't have ever imagined, EVER, waking up one night to bloodied hands and clothes which must have been there for a while with me to have dried up to form crusts to a level which is causing me tearing sting on my skin. My hair, dripping damp due to frost and a eerie kind of relief to my chronic which shouldn't be this without any remedy caused.

What the FUCK on earth have I fucked???

My denied responses me back, catching and following the trances of frozen blood on the concrete.

And I see it!

SEE HIM!!!

I can't believe how much I was caught up in myself not to have noticed a whole fucking body lying right before me!

His face, cold and still like ice, eyes still stark open at me .... just like the ones, never mind!

Mouth slightly parted, invisible if he is breathing air with that sort of stillness. Half side of his face turned on a pool of frozen blood, of his own. My eyes change shift towards his throat and below. Only a light blue shirt and a leather jacket in such a weather, can't believe that's my concern over a corpse. Apparently, the right side of his chest which is dark blue and slowly merging to red all around the fabric is the area of his death cause. I immediately revert back to his face ignoring that, his eyes strangely fixed still directly at me, almost extracting and blaming my soul for this consequence.

Is this how ...…. he felt?

And then it strikes.

Am I the cause of this piece of art?

Coz I feel no remorse…...

Stating the obvious fact that I'm completely unharmed anywhere. I'm not ashamed, nor I regret.

But I feel afraid.

Not because I just actually killed a civilian for my own, but that, I broke a certain promise which was meant to be protected.

Something about those starry eyes gives me a bone chilling feel. They remind me something familiar. I can't seem to refrain from them. Deprived of warmth and life, the gazes are making me cower. Have I fallen so low that I'm submitting to a corpse? Whom I have murdered?

I continue playing stare with the body, obvious he will win.

And then,

The most unusually fucked up shit in my already fucked up life ....... almost snatches my back bone to the extreme!!!

The corpse ......…fucking blinks!!!

Afraid I'm mistaken and seeing things; I still don't take my eyes off him. An audible gasp escape my lips.

I wasn't wrong by any fucking chance!!!

He blinks again ...…. slower this time!

Directly at me. Light starts to return to his pupils, as he retained that creepy stare, not once swaying away from me. I know I need to leave when chance offered, but I never knew I was this abnormal by nature. I don't freak out once, and wait still on my position.

The sight before me is absolutely normal ......… to say would be a complete lie!

But .... what else can go more wrong right after a witness of a corpse coming to life when you've just murdered the very same. At least, I won't go to prison probably.

His blinking quickens.

Maybe to relief the strain of the dried blood over it and a long time of keeping them open. Well, I don't really understand the dead. His spread out hand and fingers quiver weakly at first, then fisting them to test the return of his strength.

Now he almost looks like a common blood drenched guy, who just returned from the death and lying, looking at me humorlessly. Too tired to keep himself up.

I keep gaping at him clueless and he continues to do the same.

Then he fucking speaks!

"Took a freaking while this time!"

Undeniable deep voice and rhythmic, slightly cracked. Side effects of being dead for a while maybe.

"Shit! You're brutal", he continues.

The fuck he is accusing me for just after reviving? He keeps drinking me continuously with that tasered gaze of his as I shift uncomfortably. Avoiding it this time I look away finally. The stench of his blood putting me in restless agony. So opaque and think in the air. I gag and cover my mouth from showing it.

"Impressive, that you can put up against my fluids on your raw virgin skin", he says delighted, his face lighting up a bit.

What ancient language is that? Fluids? Virgin skin?

"With all that corrupted miasma around you, not a surprise", again I don't understand nor reply him.

I rather focus on brushing the blood crusts off my hands. They are pasted to my skin and burn irritably. I look up at him once, finding him frowning due to lack of response and ignorance.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, trying to get a better view of me.

I pay no heed. Not to mention, the sight of himself being ridiculously bone chilling. His body lying straight and head popped up straight like a puppet.

"Not a mute as per I remember, don't you talk sane?", he goes a little stern with his sarcastic comments. I pause and look hesitating," Not the same a while ago, being all rare and out"

That caught my attention.

"What did you say?", I inquire.

"Ah, soothing voice when you're not going all psychotic".

"What did I exactly do?", I ask in weak concern.

"Here we go again, the reminiscing".

His head fell back, when he suddenly jerked back up to sit in a stance, ruffling his hair startling me. He turned at me. Half of his face red, but his eyes ...even more. The incredible red I could detect dripping from them, were raw, fresh and intense. I didn't want to admit it, but it did sense spiny on my back. I shift my eyes to my hands, trying not to make it obvious if I continued to stare at him.

His hair, ash blonde but roughly dried with blood at the ends. I couldn't make out the face properly due to lack of observance.

He stood up and cringed at his state.

"I originally want to die now, you messed me up like shit".

......…. you're so messy, ...…so messed up Jay......….!!!

I immediately clutch my head in heightening agony slicing through, throbbing flashes of voices start to attack ruthlessly in my memories.

Only one voice!!!

One fucking dead voice!

Get out, get the fuck out!

If you have left me, then let me go completely.

Stop lingering here, stop haunting me like this.

I hand went past my face, harshly grabbing the back of my head.

I snap open my eyes, forced to meet those demonic ones before me. When did he come so close?

His dark orbs, tearing up my own, feeding off my soul forbidding me to look away even for a second. I see a scary frown on half of his clean face.

"I'll help you", he half whispers, "Just relax".

And telling, he meets our foreheads together. I let go in him as he orders me to do so.

Everything starts returning eventually.