Ellis had sent a message about recording next week’s episode early, so I have to admit I was expecting a very different scene to the one I walked in on. Something like what I sat through last week, watching them and their friends bicker over the existence of vampires (I hadn’t told them yet) and a whole lot of losing track of the script.
Not Ellis tied to a chair in the middle of the room, which was as close to pitch-black as you can get in the middle of the day. So not particularly close. But still quite dark.
“Do I want to know?”
”We thought we could reenact the kidnapping and see if we could get them to remember what happened,” Ivy explains, adding an actual collar to their neck. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
I don’t want to ask. Ellis answers me anyway.
“Apparently I was found with some sort of collar on, not that I actually remember. Didn’t seem to do very much of anything so I figured a dog collar would work well enough.”
”This was your idea?”
”Not really, I just pointed out that we probably want it to be as similar as we can manage… I don’t care about remembering.”
And we both know this. Ellis does not want to remember what happened to them. I’m convinced they tried to avoid experiencing it, honestly — they were at the right sort of age to develop a certain dissociative disorder and while I don’t exactly think they have it they certainly have something going on.
Ivy and Nathan both insist they don’t have nightmares about it either, which is kind of bizarre.
”Ready?”
”What are you even planning to do?”
”Start asking questions until we hit on the one they were going for?”
”I don’t even know if it was an interrogation!”
”You weren’t muzzled or gagged or anything and people heard you scream. There must have been a reason they wanted you to be able to make noise.”
Ellis sighs, slumping back as far as they can. “I guess you can start yelling at me.”
So Ivy and Nathan go back and forth, asking questions one after the other. Ellis stays completely silent, not bothering to look at either friend, even though they can definitely see them both. I can see them better than they would be able to see each other, of course, but that’s not the point.
”This is useless,” Nathan groans. “Ellis, can you just think about it? Like, think really hard and be seven again?”
”I don’t want to—”
Ivy slaps them, drawing a reaction from all four of us (wide eyes from Ivy, a shocked gasp from Nathan, a flinch from Ellis, and I find myself clenching my fists). “Stop messing around and tell us what we want to know or I’ll hurt Nathan.”
Ellis doesn’t say anything, still, so Ivy pulls Nathan closer to him in a way that would probably look way more threatening in the dark that everyone else is experiencing. In the same way, she puts her hands to his throat and squeezes a tiny, tiny bit.
”Go on, Ellis—”
”Lucy,” Ellis whispers, so quietly I’m not sure either of their friends heard it until Nathan starts shaking his head.
”No. We’re not calling you that.”
“It might make this work better?”
Ivy sighs, loosening what little grip she has on Nathan’s throat. “Alright. But we’re calling you that as little as possible.”
”Mhm.”
”Go on… Lucy… or I’ll kill him. Answer the question.”
”I don’t know where he is.”
The question had been about whether they knew what this was about, since Ivy and Nathan had run out of questions, so the response was… unsettling.
”Sure you do. You know exactly where he is, so tell me. I want the truth.”
”I’m telling the truth! I don’t know where he is, I don’t know anything!”
They sound terrified, fidgeting as best they can given their restraints. Ivy and Nathan share a look, Nathan opens his mouth as if to speak, and evidently it’s already the last straw.
“Wait a second—“
Sparks fly — literally… because the lightbulb above us all explodes. All the random things keeping Ellis restrained go flying too, other than the collar, and they can’t seem to get themselves out of the chair fast enough.
And for some inexplicable reason, they make a beeline for me, so I end up with an armful of sobbing teenager doing their best impression of a koala. There’s not much more of me height-wise than them, making it more of an attempt than anything else.
“It’s alright, Ellis,” I say as gently as I can manage, listening to their mumbled apologies, and feeling my heart sink.
I’m sorry, Felix.
Over and over and over again.
I know exactly what happened. I know why Ellis’ memory of the past seems so full of holes. I know why they never seemed to care about finding out the truth.
And I wish I hadn’t come round today, because there’s a lot of things tied up with my ((accidentally) stolen) memory of the kidnapping of the Rook twins, and none of it is good.
When Ellis comes back to themselves, they are clearly still pretty confused about… well. Everything. They fiddle with a corner of the ridiculously soft-looking blanket their friends had wrapped them in as the three of us hold a silent staring contest. First loser has to ask who Felix is.
Of course, I technically don’t need to blink anywhere near as often as Ivy and Nathan do, so I win easily. The fact that I also don’t need an answer to that question is irrelevant.
Nathan is the first to blink.
He isn’t exactly happy about it.
Ellis doesn’t respond to the question for a long, painful moment. Then they sigh. “I don’t know how I forgot.”
”Trauma,” Ivy says pointedly, because the answer is incredibly obvious. It’s why Ellis has almost no memories from before their adoption — they’re tainted by their twin’s presence. “I’m so sorry, El.”
”It was literally your own idea, but whatever. I just… I don’t understand why nobody’s ever told me.”
”I mean, you never asking about where your twin was probably made people think that it was best to never bring him up and potentially traumatise you further,” I mutter, since it’s a theory I’m actually sort of proud of. “But it’s impossible to explain your parents away because even seven-year-old you would have been able to tell that the people you started living with hadn’t given birth to you.”
Ellis gives me an incredibly suspicious look, which I don’t like.
”I remember a bit about my biological parents. Not much, but enough. They should have explained.”
”You were seven and seemingly so traumatised by the experience of being kidnapped that you couldn’t bear to speak about it!” Ivy cries, flinging her arms up in exasperation and nearly taking one of my eyes out. “Why would they have told you that your twin was seemingly dead?”
“I was about to ask, actually.” It’s a snap, uncharacteristic of Ellis, and for a split second I’m staring into the eyes of the vampire hunter I know they’re capable of becoming. “How did you know Felix was my twin when I hadn’t actually said that yet?”
If my heart beat, I think it would skip one.
As things are, I try and push the awful memory down (I never wanted it to begin with) and force a weak smile, hoping I can find a way to stop digging myself a prison.
”We all know it was vampires that kidnapped you both by now, surely?”
… and judging by the three very blank looks I get, none of them had gotten quite that far yet.
So much for not digging my own grave.
ns 18.68.41.177da2
