Page 28 of Surface Scratch
Ophelia stormed back into the room, blood streaked through her hair like she’d just run her hand through it. Her eyes were wide and watery, her forehead creased with concern. “I need to go down to the club. Stay with him,” she said, rushing to the door.
“Ophelia, no.” Marcus gasped, sounding like he was gargling. “It’s empty.”
She threw the keys down on the hardwood, her fists balling at her sides. Caleb flinched at the sound. “God dammit, Dad.” She shook her head. “You’re not leaving me much of a choice here.”
The look of concern vanished from her face and it returned to the same flat affect she always wore, her eyes trained on Caleb.
“Ophelia, don’t—” Marcus groaned.
Caleb looked back at Marcus and stopped breathing. It took several seconds before his brain translated what he saw in front of him. He gasped, falling back as his body tried to escape before he understood why. Marcus’s eyes were trained on his daughter, the amber irises looking like they were glowing against the pitch-black color that had taken over the whites of his eyes.
“Ophelia… W-what… W-why…?” Caleb sputtered.
She didn’t look at all phased by the sight. “Dad, this is not a debate,” she said in a low voice, walking up beside Caleb.
Marcus locked eyes with Caleb, a bloody hand reaching out and gripping his knee. “You need to go,” he gasped. “Please, before—” He began coughing again. More blood.
Caleb shook violently, his blood cold in his veins. He felt Ophelia’s hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle for the first time since they had met. He looked up at her stoic face, tears running down his own. “Ophelia, I don’t know what’s going on,” he sobbed. “Please. Please just get him help. He can’t die.”
“He won’t,” she said sternly. Her grip on his shoulder tightened, making him grimace. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I was telling the truth when I said I was starting to like you.”
She jabbed her fist into his spine and grabbed his hair, twisting her hand to tighten her grip against his scalp, and shoved him forward. Caleb fell across Marcus’s chest, the blood still pumping from the open wounds soaking into his hoodie.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. He reached back and tried to pull her hand away from his hair, the skin on his face feeling like it was being peeled back.
“Just do it!” she shouted at Marcus.
Caleb looked at Marcus’s blood-smeared face, his black-and-amber eyes taking on a strange expression, like a mixture of sadness and hunger. Ophelia jerked his head toward Marcus’s face and dug her knee into his back, forcing him down farther. Caleb planted a hand on the ground beside Marcus, trying to keep himself upright despite the bony knee pressing her entire bodyweight on top of him.
Marcus opened his mouth, and for a split second Caleb thought he was going to tell her to stop. Instead, he felt Marcus’s hand snake through his hair as well and grip just as tight. He watched in horror as Marcus’s teeth shifted before his eyes, his canines splitting in half and elongating on the top and bottom to form eight long, impossibly sharp points.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
He tried to pull back, but Ophelia yanked the arm he was keeping himself up without from under him. He slammed nose first into the ground, his vision whiting out for the second time that night. He heard himself let out a single sob before a searing pain tore into the side of his neck, like a group of white-hot needles were being pushed into his skin. The pain radiated out from his neck, burning like acid was being poured under his skin. His mouth fell open as he tried to scream, but no sound came out. His muscles burned and his vision tunneled. He couldn’t lift his arms. Ophelia’s knee had moved away from his back, but he couldn’t tell where she was. He could hear himself whimpering and the sound of Marcus’s low, growling moan against the burning skin of his neck.
Caleb’s eyelids grew heavy as his body went limp.I guess this is what dying feels like,he thought, and let the darkness take him.
Chapter Nine
The ceiling was spinning and his body aching and stiff. He had no idea how long he’d struggled to keep his eyes open. It felt like he’d spent hours in one spot, his eyes opening long enough to stare up, to feel the dull ache, and then closing again, sending him back to a pure white waiting room in his mind. He shut his eyes again and tried to go back to the white room.
It reminded him of a doctor’s office, but there were no chairs or receptionists. Just four white walls, a white floor and ceiling, and no doors or windows. Just emptiness. It didn’t bother him, it was just strange.
Occasionally he heard voices, a male and a female, echoing around him like they were coming from an invisible PA system. Their conversation never made sense to him in the white room, especially when they were arguing about blood types and pints.
In between his glimpses of the ceiling and random attacks of feeling impossibly cold, he just waited in the room, hoping for someone to come let him out.
He reopened his eyes, once again seeing the ceiling. He hadn’t gone back to the white room. He blinked several times, trying to make sure he was actually awake. The ceiling didn’t have the big water stain he was used to seeing when he woke up every day. Wasn’t he at home?
No. He was on a mattress instead of the lumpy couch. He flexed his fingers and his toes a few times and raised his left hand to his face, turning his hand over a few times. For some reason, it looked farther away than it was. He reached up to rub his eyes, wincing as his knuckle brushed the bridge of his nose.
Why does my nose hurt?He tried to sit up, but a hand pressed against his chest.
“Hold on, don’t sit up yet.”It’s the woman’s voice from the white room.
Ophelia’s face appeared over him, her hair pulled into a tight bun and her face pale, almost gray in hue. Caleb felt a sharp pulling sensation along the crook of his elbow and glanced down as she stuffed a wad of gauze into the space. She grabbed his free hand and pressed it down on the gauze. “Hold that there for about five minutes,” she said.
“Ophelia, what’s going on?” he groaned. He did as he was told, holding his arm still and keeping the pressure on the gauze. Caleb watched her take a step back and noticed one of her arms hung straight down at her side, tubing like an IV line taped all down her forearm.
