Chapter Twenty Two
Come again?
Consciousness comes to me slowly in the form of a splitting headache and crippling nausea. My body feels like it's been to war and back. The ever apparent existence of Lucas in my stomach causes me to jolt from my bed and hurl myself to a nearby corner, before expelling the contents of my stomach. I haven’t eaten since the morning of my mission. The lack of nourishment is taking its toll in the form of exhaustion and dizzy spells. The ever present doom in my life only adds to my turmoil as I can’t hold back the tears that fight their way to the surface. The tears come in waves as my body shakes. I feel dirty. Like no matter the amount of scrubbing, I will never be able to rid myself of what I have done. Images swirl in my brain of a small framed girl with red locks and honey suckle eyes. Her rare laughs were the sliver of hope and the radiant light that scared away the darkness during the all consuming hell that was our captivity. I failed her when she needed me the most and that has haunted me every moment since. These thoughts drive me into a further fit of tears that turn to labored screams.
“Baby, for the love of fuck. Please stop crying.” Blake’s voice echoes in the distance.
I snap my head up and look around. I must be going crazy again. Shuffling in the distance draws me towards my bed again as I strain to hear the noises.
“Hello?” I beckon.
“Hello, Little Siren.” His voice carries again and I gasp in response.
“I can hear you.” Excitement evident in my words.
“And I can hear you. You’re the only thing I can hear as a matter of fact. Your crying drowns out any thoughts I dare to have.” He says in a less than amused tone. Is he mocking me?
“I am falling apart. I have been falling apart since the day you, I mean Ghost, walked out.” Tears threaten to resurface as my voice is choked but I push it down.
“I am still him, baby.” He states softly. I chuckle in a rather condescending way. He’s as hot as he is delusional apparently.
“But you’re not. The person I have come to know as Blake is nothing like him. You, fuck, I don’t know. I’m not even sure what to call you at this point.” Frustration is apparent in my tone.
“Can a man not be more than simple? Can he carry two parts of himself? To be complex and more than just what you see on the surface?” He says inquisitively. I ponder on his words as if to search for a bigger meaning.
“Then who are you?” I question, needing to know him.
“I am the evil that fills the darkness, the monster that lurks in the shadows, and your future husband.” He states matter-of-factly.
“Ha ha. You seem egotistical.” Offering a fake laugh with a hint of edge at the end.
“Baby, I exude confidence. Weak men only wish they could be me.” He chuckles.
“Arrogant too I see.” Digging into him playfully.
“Self assurance is a fleeting concept. If the only thing I am remembered for is my arrogance, then so be it.” I wave off his words as my previous question remains unanswered. His poetic words do little to calm my curious mind.
“You didn’t answer my question.” I point out.
“I am Blake Ghost Mikaelson.” He hesitated before answering.
“Ghost?” My heart quickens at the name, drawing me to ask in desperation.
“A middle name that was rather fitting for who I would inevitably become.” My interest peaks as I pull my legs up onto the bed and wrap my arms around them for stability. Turning my body to face the wall, curiosity gets the best of me.
“Tell me about that. I want to know everything.” He sighs in response, sounding as if it's a topic he would like to avoid altogether but I can’t help needing to know. Something deep within, drags me to the unknown that is him.
“Oh, do you now? Okay then.” The sound of creaking and fabric scuffled tells me he is changing positions on his bed.
“My upbringing was a rather strained one. My mother is and always has been a kind woman. Soft and meek if you will. She’s so good that she is easy to quiet and even easier to control. My father is the polar opposite. He was always harsh with lessons and even harsher with punishments. He wanted a robotic soldier of a son that he could bend to his whim and build to create the perfect heir. If he wasn’t reinforcing my training or punishing me in unspeakable ways, I didn’t exist to him. I was to be seen not heard until eventually, I wasn’t even seen. I was a translucent figure of a child. A Ghost. I was entirely alone with no one who really knew me. I started to like the absence of myself. It was the only time that I wasn’t pressured to be someone else. I started using my middle name as a cover on the streets. My family built a fabrication of my existence to the world. A rowdy young man with an inheritance to blow. In the shadows and in privacy, was the only time I could be me. I was told to wear contacts when I showed my real face and to wear a mask any other time. Slowly, I became two people. It wasn’t until we met that first night, that I wanted to be more. For you. I wanted to be your worst nightmare and the thing you craved the most. Like oxygen, you would need me.” His speech causes words to die on my tongue as I stare in shock. How horrible. To be born to a family that just barely wanted him, but rather only needed for a role to fill. Though, to relish in his lack of true existence is something I can connect with.
“You know, I wish I could be a ghost sometimes. To just disappear and cease to exist.” I say softly. A bit too emotionless for his liking as he almost cuts me off.
“Please don't talk like that.” Fear and frustration are clear in his voice. I brush off his words again.
“So why did you pretend to be two different people? Why did you leave me? Not once, but twice. You saw, first hand, what it did to me the first time and did it again regardless.” The memories of our time together pours forward. I feel hurt and betrayed, requiring some form of justification for his wicked actions.
“I wanted to be everything you ever needed. I just couldn’t be one or the other for you, but I think in some way you needed both. A person you could walk in the daylight with, start a family with, and one you could indulge the darkest parts of your soul to.” He says desperately. I’m the one that is desperate though, I crave this man as much as I despise him. I go over the various things he has told me as my thoughts land on one that stands out.
