Work Text:
My first memory of this life was the burning. The bitter pain at the back of my eyelids and in the very fiber of my being. My last memory of my past life was the pale face and red eyes of the monster in the underground tunnels of London. The flawed skin covered in ruins and brands. The fangs. Vanessa held against her will and then the bang. The bright light and unending pain and the darkness.
My mind rages against the darkness as I hear the voices of my loved ones fad in and out. Male voices fade in and out. Someone named Brona Croft is ill. Very ill. One murmurs under his breath of a task and a demon that torments him. His inability to kill. Time passes as if in a fog. A female sobs over the loss of Mina. This pulls something in my chest. I knew a Mina many lifetimes ago. A sister with golden blonde hair. Mina… and Peter my family. But Peter has died, he died on Safari with father and Mina fled. I know this is true but my brain can not bring forward any faces of this alleged family.
I remember tunnels and pale faces with red eyes. I remember hunting and being hunted. My heart rate rises. My eyes flutter as if to open but the quick flashes of light are too much. I clamp my eyes shut praying for the dark. I lunge forward fleeing from the unknown enemy in the dark, only to be greeted by further pain. I fall back against the surface beneath me. It could have been pillow down or concrete and my burning nerves wouldn’t have known the difference.
“Doctor, she is awake.” I cringe back against the deafening bellow of a feminine voice and squirm and writhe in my flaming skin. I feel a cool cloth against my forehead and the gentle stroke of a hand through my hair. The skin that should have felt like silk felt like sandpaper and I can’t control the gasp that slips from my lips at the friction. “My dear Juliet, I am so grateful you are awake. You scared me half to death.” The voice presses something in my mind like an unwelcome guest. I can’t place why it bothers me but it attacks my mind like a bee.
“Has she said anything?” A male voice this time, this voice I know.
“V-v-vic…” I mumble through split lips and raw throat. Victor can’t save me. No malady in his medical texts resembles the eternal burning of my skin.
“Shh, shhh, don’t fret. Don’t push yourself. “ The female voice coo’s in my ear as gentle lips press into my hair. “She hasn’t spoken as of yet. It has been almost a month, she may just need time” The sentence is accompanied by the soft indentation on the edge of my bed and the rustling of cloth. Little noises that I would not normally notice that sound like trumpets in my ears.
“V-van-ess quie…” I gasp out at the loud voice. Vanessa! It’s Vanessa. I should have known at her first word. I should have known the voice of my dearest childhood friend. How can she be my childhood friend if I can not remember my childhood? Is this not my birth? My first moments. My first gasp of air in dead lungs. I relish in the quiet that follows the sudden stop in movement.
“Juliet, can you hear me? Do you understand me?” Victor whispers in a low voice. A hand comes to rest against my forehead causing me to jerk away and inducing a new wave of pain.
“Hurts Vic-ct…!” I try to scream to yell but the words just won’t come. I let out a wail half in pain, half frustration. Now that I have started, I just can’t stop. The wail turns to a sob causing more pain as my shoulders hunch. My skin is damp with sweat and feels icy cold and firey hot. Hair clings to my forehead and gentle hands try to brush it away. Arms encircle my shoulders and I am pulled into Vanessa’s soft torso.
“What’s wrong? what is it?” Someone shouts as I hear the door fling open. It is accompanied by the stomping of many pairs of boots reminiscent of thunder. “We must restrain her. She can not tear her stitches.” Victor choruses. “By god, what witchcraft is this. Doctor, how is it possible she was dead?” Mr. Chandler whispers as rough hands clasp my ankles and legs, pulling them taut against the itchy sheets. The quick prick of a needle pulls me back to the fog. It’s not darkness like before, just fog. A numbness accompanied by voices. “Juliet. My Juliet. I pray you will forgive the doctor for his work but I could not lose another child.” Murmurs my father. I hear the gentle voice of Vanessa comforting his gentle sobs. A new set of boots enters the room and Vanessa gives a startled, “Mr. Clare?” Suddenly there are shouts and the bed shifts as Victor rises to meet this unknown foe. The shouts reach a crescendo. “Stop, let him speak,” Vanessa chides.
“I was waiting outside for the good doctor when I heard shouts. I came to offer my assistance only to bear witness to your latest endeavor. Hopefully this child fares better than her predecessors, father.” The new voice snaps. There is a venom there that hurts my very soul. A betrayal there. My fingers twitch, trying to reach for the speaker. Whatever medicine the needle delivered has eased the burning in my veins. My movements are longer met with pain but an immovable heaviness.
“You are not welcome here, you, my Caliban. Leave and I will see to your task in my own time.” Victor retorts. My head fills with images of Caliban, a lowly creature on an island. Wanting not but for love and betrayed by this our Prospero. My heart aches and I reach again. My eyelids flutter to reveal blurry figures gaining on a lone creature in the corner. This is wrong. Why would they cruelly betray this man seeking to help?
“B-be no-not afeard…” I gasp out. My lungs flaring and stretching in my chest, leading me to gasp at the pain. The blurry figure nearest me turns and rushes to my side. Mistaking the small movements of my hand as seeking comfort, My fingers are quickly entwined in the small slender fingers of Venessa. My fingers jerk in her grasp at the heat of her skin.
“Hush, my love. I know you are in pain but it will get better. Doctor, we don’t have time for this. Help her.” I struggle to pull my fingers from her cloying grasp and reach again for the sad creature.
“Mr. Chandler, help me to remove this… Man from my house.” My father barks and the room surges into movement. The dark figure shrinks back, further into the corner. Further from reach.
“B-be not afeard, the isle is full of no-noises…” I finally gasp out, trying to soothe my Caliban. He perks at my words and moves towards my hand. Victor steps between us, blocking my view. His stance is aggressive and unrelenting.
“No, she is not for you. She is not the result of the vile task you have asked of me. She is a friend. An innocent in need… A gentle soul not deserving of you, monster.” I lean to look around Victor and groan out as I stretch my neck. The room turns to look at me again. My eyes link with his striking yellow eyes and I reach out again.
“I know, my love.” Vanessa grabs my hand again and pulls it to her chest, petting my fingers gently. The temperature difference between our bodies is maddening and only serves to bring my attention to the icy coldness of my own skin.
“No! Hurts!” Tearing my hand away again, I look pleadingly at the creature again. This, my equal. The one creature in the world who would understand me. A kindred spirit. I decide I must reach him but what means are possible and attempt to lunge from the bed before being caught by my Father’s firm hands, pulling me back to the bed. “Hurts.” Vanessa moves from my side, hurt by my unintentional slight. The deafening silence lingers in the air verging on the edge of propriety.
“Yes… y-yes it hurts. The world is so bright and so loud. The people… Well the people hurt without realizing it. There is beauty though. Art. Poetry…” The creature whispers. His voice is like music and his tone soothes my rough edges. My fingers continue to reach, wishing only to touch him. Vanessa pulls Victor to the side, allowing my Caliban to move towards me. His fingers gently trace the pads of my fingers, as if scared I would turn to dust. His skin lacks the sandpaper texture of the others. It resembles polished marble firm but smooth and cool to the touch. I lunge up to grasp his hand before falling back into my tangle of sheets. Moving to sit on the edge of my bed, his fingers gently trace the edges of my face. Their cool ministrations relieving the tension in my jaw and behind my eyes.
“ Scared. Don’t leave.” I beg. My voice is firm and unwavering. Tears come to my eyes and blur my vision. My eyes are so heavy but I can’t fall asleep until he promises to stay. To stay with me for as long as he will have me. For as long as they will let him. “Please.”
“Y-yes. Yes, of course.” His voice is soft and sheepish. Not embarrassed but in awe.