TANSTAV part 35

Chapter 10
All right, so I lied about dying, as you may have realized from the fact that I am still writing this book; however, I do nearly die, which is close enough.  And almost get attacked by leeches in the bargain.

The first thought that entered my head upon feeling the bullet hit me was: Ouch.  It was followed a few seconds later by: He shot me!  And then I felt it explode into two bits, which flew out my shoulders (one of the nastier habits of splatter bullets), thankfully missing my wings.  I looked down, and saw a huge crimson burst spreading across the left side of my stomach, where the bullet had hit.  I lifted my hand to try and staunch the blood flow, but it seemed like time was slowing down.  My hand moved with all the speed of a glacier on the move, and was trembling like I had Parkinson’s disease.  Finally, I pressed it onto the wound, which shot a wave of pain through me.  It was about then that I realized I was falling, my knees collapsing under me.

As I hit the ground, ultimately landing on my back, I caught a glimpse of Calla, her white face covered in horror, screaming my name.

She really is quite fond of me, I remember thinking.  Poor girl.  I hope she doesn't blame herself for this, and that Xen will take care of her.  I wonder what Fleming's doing right now.

With unbearable slowness, I rolled my eyes over in his direction, and saw him staring back at me, with a very nasty grin of triumph.  He lifted the splatter gun, and cocked it at me.  I got the impression that he was going to shoot me again, maybe in the heart this time.  By some miracle, the last bullet had missed it, instead hitting what felt like several other important vital organs.  I stared back at him, wanting to go out bravely.  And then, I saw an angel above Fleming.  She must have been an avenging angel, because she was dive-bombing him.  A gray avenging angel, with furry wings, and red and brown hair.

"You-" the angel screamed, as she landed on Fleming, ripping the splatter gun out of his hand, "-do not touch-" her lavender eyes blazed with fury- "-MY BOYFRIEND!!!!"

Oh, Xen, I love you, I thought, smiling dazedly.  I'm sorry about leaving you like this.

She slammed Fleming really hard in his already-wounded shoulder and arm; he screamed so agonizingly that I almost felt some semblance of pity from him.  Xen was becoming quite vicious, hitting and tearing at him so quick and fast that he obviously couldn't even think about using his magic.  Calla ran across the room, probably to keep her from doing any permanent damage.  Dear Calla; she was so tenderhearted, even for the bad guy.

It was at that moment that Jessup woke up.  He blinked, and then sat up, obviously confused.  It appeared that Fleming's hypnotic hold on him had been broken, probably because he was so distracted at the moment.  The demon looked over at the altercation going on, glanced down on the altar he was on-and then he saw me.  He looked shocked, but then an expression of utter delight lit up his heavy-lidded eyes.

Uh-oh.

Slowly, Jessup got down from the altar, and, neatly sidestepping Xen, who was still trying to kill Fleming, and Calla, who was trying to get her back under control, he came over to my cage.  He pulled open the door, and crouched down by my side.

"Well, well, well!" he purred.  "In a spot of trouble, aren't you, Wormwood?"

"Oh, it’s not that bad," I croaked unconvincingly.

Jessup chuckled.

"It doesn't look like you'll last the night," he said, making polite conversation.

"Yeah, that's what they said about the Star-Spangled Banner," I shot back.  My vision was becoming awfully hazy, which made it hard to see his stupid sideways smirk.

"True, true.  But you're losing an awful lot of lifeblood, Wormwood.  Far more than can be good for you."

He contemplated me for a moment, and then murmured, “There are so many ways I could kill you right now.  I could, perhaps, break your neck, just like this.”  He placed one hand on the top of my head, and the other around my throat.  “I could jerk one hand left, the other right, and snap!  No more you.”  It was an echo of our conversation in his cell; I was sure he was doing it on purpose, as a cruel irony.  My slowly fading pulse got a few extra jumps in; I hoped he didn't notice my fear, as it would only spur him on.  With my luck, he did.

“Or maybe I could just throttle you.”  Both hands became wrapped around my throat, and he squeezed gently.  It was enough to start cutting my breathing off, so by the time he took them away, I was gasping a bit.

“Or, if I got my hands on one of those excellent scalpels our captor must have lying around, I could slit your carotid artery: quick, and efficient-”

“Just pick one already!” I growled.  “I get it, I’m at your mercy, blah, blah, blah!”

Jessup clucked his tongue, and furrowed his eyebrows at me.

“You've always had a mouth that was unable to close once it was opened, Wormwood.  But don’t fear, I’ve already decided your death.  And I intend for it to linger for as long as you’ve got left.”

With that, he stood up, and exited my cage, going into the one containing the leeches.  Grabbing a nearby pair of tongs, he snatched up a couple, and, holding them at arm’s length, began meandering back to me.  Somehow, my companions were so involved in handling Fleming, they noticed nothing.  I tried to move, or cry out, or something, but I was so weak, it was nearly impossible.

Jessup entered the cage, and dangled the leeches over me; they began thrashing around eagerly, obviously smelling my blood.

"These leeches must be enchanted so that they can drink your type of blood," the demon observed.  Since gargoyle blood has a temperature of over 128 degrees Fahrenheit, and gives severe burns to anyone who touches it, except other gargoyles, that did seem like the only plausible explanation.

Jessup suddenly lifted my hand off the hole in my gut.  I was unable to do anything about it, because I was as weak as a baby sparrow.  Dangling the leech-bearing tongs over my wound, he said, "You know, it's almost a shame you're going to die like this.  You were my greatest opponent."

"Just get on with it, you plant-spawn!" I spat.  For a demon, that is one of the worst insults you can call him without resorting to outright cursing.  Apparently there's this old myth in their culture about a demon born from a union between his father and a woman born from a tree (reminiscent of a dryad), and when he was fully grown, he caused 1000 years of destruction of the demons somehow.  So to call a demon plant-spawn (or son/daughter of a plant) is to ask for death.  But since I was dying anyway, I figured I had nothing to lose, and might as well tick him off on my way out.  Jessup lost the smirk; giving me a hate-filled glare, he began to lower the hungry leeches to the wound.

Without warning, he flew backwards, as if a giant hand had smacked him, slamming into the wall.  The tongs (with the leeches still attached, thank goodness) were wrenched by something unseen out of his hand, and zoomed back into the tank.

"Oh, no you don't!" an angry female voice shouted.  To my surprise, I recognized it as Calla!  She marched over, hands clenched into tiny fists.  Then she waved her left hand, and the cage containing the Ghul burst open.  The creature scrambled out in terror, and fled the house.  She let him go, and instead used her power to push Jessup into the cage, which relocked itself.  After that, I didn't see any more of what was happening over there; suddenly Xen was by my side, staring down at me.

With all the willpower I could muster, and the last ounces of strength in my body, I reached up and touched her face, caressing it.

"You're beautiful, my angel," I whispered.

Sniffling, she croaked, "You keep getting yourself into the biggest messes, don't you, Tristan?"

Then, grasping my hand tightly in one of her her own for a moment, she tore open my shirt and quickly began making incisions throughout my chest cavity with her claws.