Never Alone by J. Manoa

Author:J. Manoa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ABDO
Published: 2017-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE BIGGEST SHOCK WAS SEEING THE BLADE sticking through the back of his hand. It didn’t seem real. Its tip, shining at him in a way that was almost beautiful, hovered inches from his face. The scent hit him at the same time. Iron—in the blood, in the steel. He could move his fingers if he wanted. Most of them. The wound didn’t even hurt. Until the first drop of blood slid off the back of his hand. It was real.

Nate screamed. The blade slid from his sight, scraping along nerves and bones. Red filled in behind it. The color of life and passion and violence dripped down the back of his hand, a solid line that seemed to spread outward into a thin mist like the filter over a camera lens. The rest of his body went numb, focusing instead on the metal that pierced through the center of his hand.

The giggling returned as Dove stepped back from him. A trace of moisture appeared within her burning face as she opened her mouth. She ran her tongue over the edge of the blade attached to her wrist. He heard her swallow. She breathed out deeply, as though receiving her first sip of cold water on a hot summer day.

“Without the shedding of blood,” said the voice within the light behind her, “there is no forgiveness.”

Nate stared at the hole in the back of his hand, and the shaking suddenly stopped. The solid trail in the center of the red cloud seemed to glow, like the stars had moved into his veins. The fire followed, beginning in one place and moving outward. His fingers twitched in front of him. Shocks of pain coursed through shattered bones under the skin. The tremor moved back up his arm, the fire again following. He felt as though he could see the blood in his veins bubbling to a boil. He could smell it there. It rushed into his senses, shining in his mind like sun reflecting off ripples. His teeth gnashed together so tight he could picture them pushing into the gums. His shoulder felt as though it would shake from its socket. His bones smashed into each other. He screamed again. The sound filled his head from both inside and out. Thousands of needles stuck through the inside of his skin. He felt himself ripping open.

Then the pain dulled. He burned. He shook. The world was a blur of thin colors behind the red glow that poured from his wound. But he felt it less, as though the nerves were deadening inside. The ground grew softer against his back and elbow. His arm seemed to detach, growing beyond where it had always been, the hand itself larger, pulling the edges of the wound with it. He heard a series of sharp rips and tears, dust from torn clothes popped up all around him.

The stench of blood grew so thick that he could taste it, spreading and coating the inside of his mouth. It poured from his teeth as they pushed from his gums and pressed together.

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