SR: Kaleo - Way Down We Go
eight.
Eryn.
The taste of mermaid blood struck something carnal in me. The taste was electrifying. I bit deeper, warm blood sloshing into my mouth. I pressed my lips tighter, locking them around her skin. I understand why I didn't turn down this opportunity.
In the back of my mind, I was disappointed. Disappointed in myself, at why I decided to do this.
I did this for all the wrong reasons.
My hand tangled in Ally's braids. I lifted her up and crushed her body against mine, squeezing her closer, relishing in her taste.
"Eryn," a voice called, pulling me back into reality. I opened my eyes and stared at Marina. She placed her hand on my arm. The gazes of everyone landed on me, terror and judgment in their eyes. They didn't believe that I'd be able to do this.
I tore myself away from Ally, feeling my eyes begin to water. It hurt so much to draw myself away. I felt blood drunk, the ground feeling as if it was dropping under me. My lips were numb, and my body tingly. Fuzziness came in waves and I was warm.
That's the thing about mermaid blood. Mermaid blood forced you to take on a high. Control wasn't a problem; however, it was the withdrawals that were killer. You wanted—needed more, the feeling something you never wanted to fade.
The withdrawals were worse, shaky and irritable. Begging for more. Restraint was limited. I remember all too well what those felt like. I was terrified to be thrown back into that dark hole. I didn't know if I could pull myself out.
Don't think about that now. You're saving her.
I forced open Ally's mouth and bit into my hand, making sure the blood was pooling out. Ally's heartbeat came to a stop. "We'll know in several hours if it'll work. Take her now. You'll see where to put her," I refocused, trying with all my power not to look like I was enjoying this.
I didn't dare look up at anyone. I wasn't capable to talk in clear sentences anymore. That was all the power I had. I kept my hand encircled around my arm, fingernails digging into my flesh. The pain was keeping my mind off of everyone else. Not one heartbeat was in sync with the other. They all beat at various speeds, the blood flooding differently in each of them.
I could have so much more than just Ally.
Drain them. Drain them now!
It'll be super quick. No one would even find out.
I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring my dark thoughts.
Flynn lifted Ally and motioned for all of them to leave. Marina looked down at me, a concerned expression on her face. "I'm staying here with her."
I narrowed my eyes, turning my back against her. She couldn't see me like this. She'd know why I really did this.
"Mari, you heard her. She's going to lose it. You would hurt her more by you being here," Sydney reasoned, "she knows herself better than you do."
My gaze slid to her and I nodded in thanks. She took the words I wanted to say right out my mouth. Sydney gave me a hardened gaze for a moment, perhaps regretting the decision Marina made for them. I'm sure they wouldn't want to see their friend deal with what I deal with.
Or maybe they were disgusted instead. I knew Flynn didn't give a damn. And yet, Ally was in his arms.
I turned my head away from them, trying not to focus on them.
Marina sighed, leaning down and kissing my temple.
I scooted away, tightly shutting my eyes. I was trembling, taking all my control to hold myself in place.
I took deep breaths out of my mouth, trying my best to keep myself in check. It had been so long since I had this much amount of mer blood.
You turned a mermaid, you idiot!
"We'll be at your apartment," she said.
I didn't look at her. Instead, I struggled to my feet, feeling as powerless as ever. I was running on fumes. The blood that Arlo forced onto me wasn't enough to make me stronger. Instead, it made the cravings worse. My tolerance burned right through, leaving me needing so much more.
I was angry. Angry that I let it get this bad. I needed much more blood to satisfy my cravings. Turning Ally was taking something from me more than I had thought. The mermaid blood wasn't going to sustain me. I had to have so much more than that.
But I couldn't.
The doors shut and I staggered over to the bar. I searched for whatever bottle wasn't broken from the wall of drinks. "Holy hell," I murmured, not bothering to grab a glass. I took a swig, loving the feel of the burn down my throat. It stifled the longing.
I'd have to clean this shit up.
I sighed, kicking the glass to the side with my boot. I'd do this another time. I guess we were going to be closed, I thought, why'd I let it get to this point?
Arlo and I didn't get along, ever since Sybil turned him. I was turned earlier than him, something he'd never get over. I got to see and be a part of his last human moments. Those moments were the more delicate and humiliating to a turned vampire. I was lucky for only my sire to see me in my last human moments.
Ally was my first sired vampire. In my centuries of living, the opportunity to turn people never presented itself. Or appealed to me for that matter. If she survived, I would have to teach her how to be one. I never turned a mermaid. I never heard of a mermaid turning into a vampire. I hope I wasn't too late with Ally.
I took another gulp from the bottle and leaned my head back, letting the haze of the blood pull me in.
London was somewhat prospering during the early 1500s. With plagues breaking out here and there, labourers were needed at an all-time high, wages were high and rents were low.
Geoffrey Harleston and I became betrothed around 1520, our parents arranging it faster than I was prepared for. Father thought I wouldn't find anyone. It would be good for business, the Harleston's owned the most prestigious goldsmiths in Strand, a street that was cramped and busy full of people. I was rarely allowed in Strand. I was to stay at home, planning the wedding with girls whom I barely knew and avoiding his mother.
I'd left my family, leaving them on the outskirts of the hustle and bustle. I never got to say goodbye to Lee or Emery. Geoffrey promised I would see them often. He also promised he would find them work. He made a lot of promises.
Geoffrey was a Merchant Adventurer. It was a stupid name, I always said. However, he was a busy man. He made frequent trips to places like Calais and Antwerp, ignoring the calls of his family business. Instead, he made a business of his own, selling wine. We became extremely wealthy after that, marrying shortly after and moving into a two-story Tudor wattle and daub house. It was a very lonely life. The house was too big for me to spend my time alone every day, waiting for him to return each night.
Geoffrey was off doing different things and I fell into a long depression as reports of plague getting worse. Geoffrey wanted a child, but I was too wary to birth one. With the state in London, I foresaw it getting worse but he didn't listen. Why should a husband listen to his wife?
There was a night that I could remember as clear as day, and it was the night Sybil found me.
Geoffrey was on in way back from Calais. I spent the day talking with the wives of Geoffrey's friends. Dimwitted ones, that was for sure. I spent the whole day talking about tedious decorations in their homes that they didn't like.
"Excuse me, ladies," I murmured, lifting myself from my seat and making my way to the kitchen. Because of the sicknesses getting worse, I insisted to no longer have fruit in the house. Geoffrey thought I was losing my sanity, but somehow, I knew it would be worse before it got better.
I was right, that ignorant fuck.
Elizabeth Anne, the wife of a man who made me appreciate Geoffrey more, walked into the kitchen with me.
"They're a bore." she groaned, pulling off a bonnet that was tied tightly around her chin. I kept my eyes off her, my stomach tied in knots. I heard rumours of what would happen to women if they were found out.
"Punishable by death," I muttered, staring off into the window.
"Hmm?" she muttered, taking a step towards me. I knew why she was here alone with me. She expected me to kiss her first, the excitement of being with a woman maddening.
I ignored her, knowing that this was being too frequent and too risky. As much as I appreciated her bosom, I knew the precautions needed to be taken.
Elizabeth darted to me, cupping my cheeks and staring eagerly. Her eyes begged for me to lean down.
I was a tall woman, and my father would often tell me to wear flatter shoes so men would find me sightly. My blunt jawline and long piercing eyes weren't ladylike to him at all. He would say I was a miracle I found Geoffrey when I did.
"Eliza, please do not," I lightly pushed her back, but she wasn't relenting. Her soft lips pressed against mine and my hands were already on her waist, feeling the hard iron corset. Elizabeth was excited when she first put it on. After a couple of weeks, the pain was too much for her, but it was too late. She was forced to wear it as per her husband's request.
"Touch me," she whispered, licking the length of my neck.
I shook my head, hating how I was allowing myself this again. It was dangerous. I knew what happened to those who were caught.
I picked Elizabeth up and placed her on the counter, throwing her skirts back so she could hold them.
She tangled her hands in my hair, wrapping her hand around it.
I pulled her stockings down, along with her undergarments. My fingers found their way inside, and I wasn't surprised by how moist she was. The taboo itself was a turn on. The sensation was an added plus.
She yanked my hair, shoving my face deeper in-between her silky thighs.
I pumped my fingers into her, leaning over and pulling her in for a kiss. Elizabeth's legs pulled me in closer, and I was tempted to do something that'd make her moan. She humped against my waist as if I was fucking her. It took a long time for us to reach the point that we did, especially since being with the opposite gender was the only thing we knew. We figured out what we liked. I like to see them writhe under me. She liked to do the writhing.
The sounds and movements that came from her when I pleasured her, gave me satisfaction like no other.
I don't know how long we were in there, but impending panic was making its way up to my chest. I had a bad feeling and I kept choosing to ignore it. My head was under her skirts, my tongue lapping up her juices like some sort of parched animal.
Her moans became louder, she was close to climax.
Footsteps drew near and Elizabeth pushed my head away in a panic. "Stop!" she screamed, moaning in pleasure. Her climax hit her as she spoke, "she's possessed! I cannot her away from me. Help!" Her words were more like groans than panic.
I yanked myself away, eyes wide. "Elizabeth?"
"Erynna?" Geoffrey was in the doorway, his eyes flitting to Elizabeth then to me. I stood straight, my head down.
The women in the drawing-room also came to look at what was going on. Elizabeth jumped off the table. "She touched me, inappropriately!"
In an instant, Geoffrey was on me, his hand around my throat tightly. "Get them out of here!" he roared.
I shrank myself as small as I could make myself. Everyone left the room quickly, perhaps more afraid of Geoffrey's wrath. "You want to stay with a woman, Erynna? My wife, the mother of my future children? "
"Do you not like the feeling of my hard member?" The blows came in one after another, my face, chest, and stomach. Blood poured freely from my nose, and eventually, my eyes were swelling shut. The pain came in a constant wave, leaving me on the brink of consciousness.
"I'll fuck the want for a woman out of you," He bellowed, yanking me upstairs.
I crooned and begged for him to stop, but there was no listening to come from this man. He threw me onto the bed as if I was no better than a sack of sand. Geoffrey ripped through my dress right down the middle. He left me in nothing but a slip and rolled it up over my hips.
"Stop!" I screamed, fighting him with all my might, "Just throw me outside!"
I kicked with all my might, trying to get him away from me. I rather he throws me out and gives me the humiliation to walk home rather than take this beating.
Geoffrey nodded. "Thanks for the suggestion, love." He inserted himself in me, causing me to cry out. With every thrust, I whimpered out, but eventually, I just laid there, not fighting, hoping that the more still I stayed, the faster he would be over.
"It's as if I'm fucking someone dead," Geoffrey shuddered and pulled himself out, "might as well be."
I curled up in the bed, shivering and in pain everywhere that was tender. I wanted to sleep.
Just let me sleep.
"Get up!" he shouted. He seized my ankles and dragged me off the bed
I landed on the ground with a thud. He had me stumble into his study.
"Sit." He pointed at a hard wooden chair in the back of the room.
I staggered towards the chair, feeling my legs begin to shake. What was he going to do? "Geoffrey," I begged, "please don't hurt me. Let me leave."
He took something out from under his desk. It was long and wooden, with metal spikes that aligned the rims of it.
"I have no use of you anymore. And I don't want anyone else having a use for you either," he said calmly, "take off your slip and kneel in front of the chair."
Take off your slip and kneel in front of the chair.
The commands left so much to the imagination. I was so terrified. I didn't want to do what he asked. "Please no," I begged, tears streaming down my puffed cheeks. My left eye was nearly swollen shut, but I could see enough that I didn't want to be here.
"ON THE FLOOR!" he hollered, the sheer loudness of his words making me flinch and slide to the ground.
With one hand, he tore the back of my slip, exposing my spine and shoulder blade. Geoffrey tore it further, my lower back feeling the bite of the fabric ripping.
There was a moment that I closed my eyes and prayed, something I didn't do often. I kept my beliefs to myself, but at this second, I would do anything to get out of this situation.
The first strike was the one that hurt the most, the unexpected pain flowing throughout my back. The second one hurt a bit less since I knew what to anticipate. It was the location that hurt more, my lower back arching in protest. All the hits that came after soon began to numb my legs. I was unable to move my toes. For some apparent reason, I was saddened that I wouldn't able to dance again. I liked to dance.
Something warm and wet slid off my back and I closed my eyes tighter, pretending it was anything other than blood. It didn't hurt as much anymore, especially when my body was locked into place, kneeling on the floor with my knuckle white grip around the legs of the chair.
It was the set of last blows that brought me to the ground completely. It was as if he wanted to beat me until I became one with the floor. The world around me spun, only able to see the outrageous shoes he insisted on wearing on his times out of town.
I wanted to yell, to get loud and physical, but I was simply a heap of flesh on the ground. I didn't know the extent of my back injuries, but I pictured the skin torn open, perhaps exposing my insides and bone. Maybe that was dramatic of me, but the sounds of him tearing into my back were something I couldn't get rid of in my mind.
Maybe I was paralyzed, no matter how much I told myself to stand and walk away, nothing happened. I pictured myself getting up and walking away in a loop, not seeing that I was being hauled outside.
"I wish you get the plague you're so incessantly talking about!"
I fought him meekly as he dropped me to the ground. Everything hurt every time I breathed and the images around me were blurred and distorted. It all was too bright around me. The extent of my injuries was going to kill me and if it didn't, the infection from them would.
Geoffrey unceremoniously walked away, as he left the cold sent shivers down my spine. The stench of Strand flew upwards. This was it for me. My life would end here, if not for my injuries but from the sickness or cold.
I don't know how long I laid there. I wanted to be angry with Eliza, but she was only doing what she thought what's best to protect herself. Anyone would've done it. Perhaps not I, but most would.
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