Mother of Mercy
I look back on her, just before I leave for my... medication. My mind
considers the image of her, and just how different we are. Her hair
is dark strawberry blonde while mine is long, plain platinum. My eyes
are some shade of blue, and hers are an intense red. She is round
where I am straight, smooth where I am accented, short where I am
long. Everything is different, even the things which women are
supposed to have in common. Her breasts are large and sag without the
benefit of a bra... I glance down at mine. They are pale and silver,
even the nipples are near-colorless, and too small to be anything but
perfect.
A drop of blood drips onto the slight swell of my right breast. It
slides down to the nipple like a vampire's tear, and stays suspended
there. It looks like I lactate blood. I can't help but smirk at
that. I probably do.
Now, where...
Pupils contract to pinpoints of darkness in my skull as I flip the
light on. Skin crawls into bumps of nervousness as my bare feet pad
across the tile floor. More drops of blood patter onto perfect white
tiles.
That bitch. That goddam vampire bitch.
My reflection, despite looking disheveled, is the picture of calmness.
It flips away when I open the medicine cabinet. Searching.
Searching. Where...
There.
The bottle is completely full. I've never used it before. It fits in
my palm and weighs the same as a bowling ball. So small, such a
carefully-carved glass flute. I know without looking that the bottom
has LCSC inscribed on it. This was Walter's make, after all, and the
man takes pride in his work. Along the side: a cross, followed by the
letters Hg.
The contents look like living steel. It begins to glow the instant I
touch it.
Shit. Shit. Shit. That vampire bitch. What if I hadn't... what if
now--
The stopper slides out easily. It makes a chime-like noise as it
drops to the floor.
Jesus, it's cold.
A flick of the wrist. A good half of its contents fly out, little
living bullets that patter onto my neck like blood on tiles. It's
colder than the air, like a glacier has landed on my neck, and the
cold burns through my entire form, running rampant like a rabid
vampire.
I scream. I wish I could say I didn't. But anyone feeling this agony
would have. I forget Alucard, I forget Maxwell, I forget the vampire
bitch in the other room, wondering where I am and what I am about.
Nothing is here but exquisite torment, the feeling that something is
being burned out of me. And I welcome it. I relish it. The burning
is what I hoped to feel. Instead of smoking and the mercury sinking
into my flesh and gouting blood, I feel a great cleansing as my
infection is purged from my body.
Good. Otherwise, I would have re-opened the cabinet, and found the
last of Walter's failsafes: a derringer pistol, with a single bullet
loaded into it. The bullet has a silver-alloy casing and explodes
upon hitting the target, sending a spray of blessed mercury into the
brains of the victim. If the silver doesn't work, the mercury does.
I can see my naked corpse sprawled across these tiles like a bad joke,
my blood spelling senseless letters. I can smell the heavy barbecue
scent of my burning flesh, accentuated by the sour stench of frying
hair and the sweet, heady smell of cooking bone.
And I can just see the way he would smile. Bastard. I hate vampires.
I hate them all.
The burn passes. I knew it would. Everything passes to someplace
unknown--Heaven or Hell, I suppose. Everything, but...
How did I end up on the floor, I wonder. I know. I was so wrapped in
pain and my own mind that I didn't feel my chill form collapse and
twist itself into a fetal position. I touch my neck. The wound
hurts, but it's a normal, healthy hurt. It will take a few days to
heal. I welcome the wait. I would have to use Walter's last present
if it had already begun to heal.
My vision spins for a moment as I rise. My mirrored neck not has a
regular Rorsatch test on it, interloping patterns of dark blood and
liquid silver weaving together around twin holes. Little speckles of
red and metal adorn the tops of my breasts. My eyes are haunted in
the mirror.
Violet-blue, I think. My eyes are violet-blue.
It's the first time I've really noticed.
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