Who: Mara and Chase When: Evening, Friday July 13th Where: Home Status: Complete
As a place to live, Mara wasn’t sure what she thought about Point Pleasant. There wasn’t a ton to do like there had been back home and Mara hadn’t been in the mood to meet many people on her own. She was still getting used to her new environment, she supposed. However, she did like the dark undercurrent of the town. Something was living deep in its foundation, something ancient and powerful. It could open its mouth and swallow the town whole if it really wanted to. She was sure other people felt it too, though maybe not as keenly as she did. Perhaps that was one of the perks of having died. She felt she could put her ear to the ground and talk to evil directly.
Mara did like living with Chase, though, in their nice home so close to the ocean and his pretty cousin and her pretty husband. Chase was everything to her; sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and watch him sleep. Sometimes she would wake him up and fuck him until they were both spent. Lately, her fingers itched to wrap around his throat and squeeze, just so he could experience some of the exhilaration and fear that she had. The temptation had grown stronger lately, which it sometimes did when the magic that had brought her back to life began to wane. It meant a sacrifice was near and they both knew it. They hadn’t had to do anything since arriving in Point Pleasant, but it was becoming clear that the town’s energy alone wouldn’t keep her alive.
Chase wasn’t yet home when the sunset that evening. Mara was feeling restless in her own skin, texting him non-stop as the day progressed. Eventually she left her phone on the kitchen counter and left the house to walk into the woods again, her bare feet pressing into the weeds and dirt. Her discarded clothes left a trail behind her until she was alone, the trees creating darker shadows as the night sky enveloped everything around her. Breathing hard, Mara sat between two trees, shoving her toes into the dirt, the undeniable urge to cover herself in the soil growing stronger. Some part of her mind had detached from reality and she wanted to draw blood, whether from her or someone else. It was a frustrating sensation, to want something and not know what or how to achieve it and it was during these moments that she hated what Chase had done and wished she could punish him for it.
It had been a frustrating day, with Mara’s text messaging steadily increasing to the point where Chase could barely get any work done. He knew she was bored, but he shouldn’t have to entertain her. She wasn’t a child. She could go out and meet new people, check out the town. There was even an arts festival going on, so she had plenty she could be doing, but his suggestions fell on deaf ears. By the time he arrived home, he was agitated and itching for a drink. He immediately poured himself one, all while calling out to Mara. He walked through the house, from room to room, expecting to find her, possibly having fallen asleep. He’d finished his drink and finished his search, but no Mara. So he poured himself another and walked out onto the back porch.
He loved the privacy of their home, the way it faced the woods, making it seem like there was no one around for miles. His eyes searched through the trees as he called Mara’s name again, hoping to spot her. An object on the ground caught his attention and he set his drink down on the railing before moving into the woods to retrieve it. Chase sighed when he realized it was Mara’s shirt. He should probably be worried about her, but instead he was aggravated. She’d always been a free spirit, and he honestly loved the lack of underwear, but she couldn’t just strip in the middle of the woods. “Mara!” he yelled, moving farther in, spotting her skirt in the distance. Where the fuck was she?!
By the time she heard Chase's voice, Mara had laid down on the ground, comforted by the feel of nature surrounded her. She knew he got annoyed with her aversion to clothing sometimes, but at the moment, she didn't care. She was where she was supposed to be. He was the one who had put her there after all. Sighing, Mara reached out to run her fingertips over some of the tree's roots that had broken ground. She could ignore him, but Mara knew he wouldn't leave until he'd found her, so she reluctantly pushed herself up, not quite ready to stand yet. Her nerves felt raw and exposed and it seemed to intensify at the sound of Chase's voice. "What," she yelled back, her voice hoarse. It was the worst game of Marco Polo that she'd ever played.
Chase spun towards the sound of Mara’s voice, spotting her almost immediately. He jogged towards her, but his steps began to slow the closer he got, until he was just a few feet from her. “What the fuck, Mar?” he asked, looking down at her. He didn’t mind the nudity around the house, or outside when caught up in a moment of passion, but this was… bizarre. This wasn’t even the beach, this was the woods, and she was covered in dirt. There were dead leaves in her hair and mud under her fingernails. It was far too reminiscent of when he’d had to bury her in the earth and he scowled down at her, waiting for an explanation. After the day he’d had, this was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
His tone, and the way he looked at her, set her teeth on edge. Didn’t he understand that this was all his fault? “What the fuck, yourself,” Mara snapped. It wasn’t an explanation, but she didn’t owe him one. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have known what to say. How did she explain any of this? It wasn’t like her brain was dealing with reality very well at the moment. Her hands rubbed her forearms, leaving behind streaks of mud. The urge to bury her face in the earth and suffocate was so strong. Shifting onto her knees, Mara’s tone softened though she didn’t lose any of the darkness in her expression. “I just… need something. I don’t know what. You weren’t here and I didn’t know what else to do.” Mara shifted in closer and gripped his pants at his thighs, clinging as she rested her forehead against one of his legs. “It was calling to me.”
Chase froze, a chill creeping up his spine as her behavior finally set in. This wasn’t just Mara being a little quirky; this was off the rails, the kind of thing that spoke to the darkness within her. In that instant, he knew what she needed and it was more than the ground against her skin. He’d sacrificed to bring her back and he would have to do it again to keep her there. He just thought she’d have more time before they got to this stage. Had there been other signs that it was getting bad? If so, he’d overlooked them. This was impossible to ignore. “Shit,” Chase sighed and crouched down beside her, gently plucking a leaf from her hair. “I didn’t know it had gotten this bad. I can help. I just… need some time to prepare.” His fingers trailed along her cheek, lifting her chin to look at him. “Please don’t leave me again.”
Mara's anger shifted as quickly as Chase's had and she rested her hands on his shoulders, eager to feel more of his touch on her face. "I won't," she murmured. "I just can't help it... I feel different." She knew what that likely meant, but Mara couldn't turn it off. She wasn't normal. Mara knew Chase wanted her to be. He wanted her to be the Mara he knew and loved before she died, but she wasn't. Not really. Most of the time she could ignore it, and so could he. But she couldn't ignore it now. How much time would he need to prepare? How long would it take? Would she survive the wait? Mara's fingers drifted to his neck, desperate to feel his bare skin. She wanted to strip him bare and wrap herself around him, skin on skin, until she was warm again. "Take me home?"
Chase had known this day would come, but had pushed it to the back of his mind, steadfastly ignoring it until now. He would do anything to keep Mara alive, but that didn’t mean it didn’t fill him with a sense of dread. Fortunately, her condition also brought on a determination that allowed him to go through with it. It was finding an appropriate target that would take time. Point Pleasant didn’t have the homeless population that he’d had access to back home. There were neighboring cities, however… Chase forced himself to focus on now, on what Mara needed until he could do what needed to be done. He scooped her up into his arms, careless to how filthy she was, and rose to his feet. She was so damn cold it was jarring. “I can go tonight. As soon as we get you home,” he whispered as he began the trek back to the house.
She might have been cold, but Chase was warm and she pressed her cheek against him. There was a part of her that wanted to go with him, if he had to leave. But she didn't think she had the energy and leaving meant she would have to get dressed and right now, clothes would just make her feel cranky and restless. "How long will it take?" she asked, not wanting to be left alone for a very long. Honestly, Mara didn't want Chase to leave her at all, to just make him stay with her as she sunk into beautiful oblivion. It was a very strange combination, to want to cuddle with him and fuck him and hurt him and kiss him all at the same time. Maybe it was safer for him to go.
Chase licked his lips, his mind spinning as he tried to pull together a plan on such short notice. He would have preferred to leave Mara at home, but there was no telling what she might get up to while he was gone. But he also didn’t want her to witness what he had to do. It was one thing for her to see the blood, or even the body, but she shouldn’t be there for the violence. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want her to see him in that light—it could just as easily drive her into a frenzy. It would be just his shit luck for her to kill him in the process. “I don’t know, babe. An hour? Maybe two? I have to find a—a sacrifice. I can’t just run to the store and pick one up.” Point Pleasant didn’t exactly have a huge homeless population to choose from, which made things tricky, but they did have an exceptionally high rate of disappearances. The key was to pick some low life that no one would miss.
It was so morbid but Mara began to laugh anyway. Chase walking into a supermarket and picking out someone to kill from the store shelves. She knew she needed to let him go or she would bury herself back in the ground and fade away, but Mara also didn't want to be left alone. What if he didn't come back? What if he got caught, or someone hurt him while he was trying to hurt them? She would have to kill that person herself and Mara could admit that would be just fine with her. The blood lust was strong. She just had to keep a lid on it for a little longer. "Just come back," she said, once the laughter had died in her throat. "Don't leave me alone in this place."
If this was to continue on for the rest of their lives, Chase knew that eventually Mara would see him kill. There was no way around it. But for all the anger and bouts of rage that Chase could be prone to, killing someone didn’t come naturally to him. He hated it and sought to make it as quick and painless as possible, while also trying to keep a low profile. It was a lot to juggle, he had almost no experience in it, but he would make it happen for her. The laughter worried him for a moment, but then he remembered his last words and he grinned a touch himself. If only it was that easy… “I would never,” he said as the house came back into view. “We’ll find something to ground you, distract you while I’m gone. I’ll call you as soon as I’m heading back. We can do the ritual in the basement.” It was cool down there, and easier to clean. He’d rather not get blood stains in the carpet upstairs.
Mara knew what Chase had to do to help her and it didn't bother her in the least. A macabre part of her wanted to witness it, to see first hand what he was willing to do to keep her alive. But right now she felt too tired and weak to do much of anything. So Mara nodded a little, closing her eyes. "I'm cold," she said simply. She wanted a blanket, or ten, and maybe she would just sleep until he came home. Anything to feel like she was buried in warmth, if she couldn't be in the ground.
Chase hated that it had gotten this bad, that he hadn’t seen the signs that this was upon her. If he’d acted sooner, she wouldn’t be cold; she wouldn’t be burying herself in the woods behind their house. Maybe he could keep some of the leftover blood on hand for emergencies, but that would be a risk. If he got caught with a jar of dead man’s blood, he’d be tried for murder, even if they didn’t find the body. Not that he thought anyone would suspect him. Chase planned to keep his tracks clean. “I’ll put a fire in the fireplace,” he told her as he climbed the porch steps. “Wrap you in blankets. Make you some tea, if you want.” But he should leave soon. Nothing he did for her at home would fill the void like sacrificial flesh and blood.
Mara couldn't help but grin, despite shivering. Tea seemed like such a parental thing to offer, but she knew Chase wanted to take care of her. And he would. "Just the fire and blankets," she murmured, clutching his shirt a bit as they ascended the stairs. She still wanted to bite him. To draw his blood and drink it herself. But all of that would have to wait until he got back, because she didn't think she would have the energy to do much of anything soon. "I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that, right?" she murmured, her eyes closed as she breathed in his scent. "Even if I try to, I don't really want to."
“I know,” Chase said softly as he carefully set Mara down on the couch. It worried him that it might come to that, that she would be so far gone that she would lash out. They’d always fought, but there was a chance she might take it too far, that they both might end up in the ground. And it would be his fault, for not taking care of her sooner. He needed to keep a better eye on her, to make sure it never got that far. It shouldn’t have gotten this far. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he tucked blankets all around her. “I never wanted this for you.” He just hadn’t been able to let her go. Even now, it was hard to regret his decision when she was right there before him, seemingly alive, though not quite well.
Mara curled up in the blankets, still shivering, but she looked at Chase, knowing that he was being sincere. He couldn't live without her and she couldn't live without him. If she died again, he would go with her. "I know," she murmured. "Just be careful and come back. If you don't, I'll come find you." Mara may not have the energy or strength, but she would do it anyway. Chase could handle himself, but there were a lot of monsters out there and she didn't want him to disappear because of her. "I'll wait."
Chase leaned in and kissed her forehead, lingering there for a heartbeat, reluctant to pull away. Leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, but if he didn’t, he would lose her, and that was enough to get him moving. Instinct was to grab the keys and rush out the door, but there were vital supplies he needed and Chase ducked into their bedroom to grab a bag from the back of the closet before hurrying out the door. In the garage he grabbed a bucket that had been set aside for this exact occasion, and he threw it in the back seat as his mind raced over what he needed to do. He wished he had more time, to drive far enough away that the disappearance wouldn’t make the local news, to find someone that wouldn’t be missed or even deserved it, but he wasn’t sure if he could manage that. He’d have to take what he could get, so he spend towards the edge of town, eyes peeled for a potential victim. Time was of the essence.
Mara felt it physically when Chase left the house. She hated being alone, the desire to crawl back outside and into the dirt overwhelming. If she'd had enough energy, she would have done it. Instead she lay cocooned in the blankets Chase had brought her, shivering despite their warmth. Mara knew he wouldn't let her die - not again - so she waited, sinking deeper into the blankets and the couch. After awhile she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, finding comfort in the darkness.
- - - -
Chase’s hands shook where they gripped the steering wheel, blood starting to dry beneath his finger nails. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or adrenaline, or even panic that made him tremble; it was probably a mix of all three. The hour had rushed by as he’d sought out a mark and taken them down, the task easier than he’d ever anticipated. In a big city, there would have been people everywhere, no matter what the hour. It would have been hard to find someone alone, and even harder to ensure that no one saw him pick them up. In a small town, far from the big lights and the cameras on every corner, it was so simple that Chase was almost paranoid that he’d missed something. The lack of police sirens said otherwise. Someone would have called the cops if they’d seen what happened. But he was almost home and precautions he’d taken ensured that once he got there, he’d be safe.
The last few miles seemed to take the longest, but Chase couldn’t risk speeding—not with plates that didn’t match his car and definitely not with a body in the trunk. He would have to dispose of it later, probably some place out back behind their house. He’d considered leaving it, but people were known for going missing in the area, not for getting murdered. The more time that passed before anyone realized the man was missing, the better. People’s memories were shoddy when it didn’t concern them, especially days after the fact. If anyone had seen him in the area, hopefully they wouldn’t remember much by the time they were questioned.
Chase was frantic by the time he pulled into the garage, hurriedly turning off the car before rushing into the house with a bucket of blood and his ritualistic knife. He’d been as quick as he could be, but it still felt too long to leave Mara in her current state. He called her name as he opened the door, then rushed to where he’d left her. They needed to be outside, in the dirt, under the moon, but at this point he expected he’d have to carry her.
Mara wasn't going to go anywhere on her own. She wasn't even sure her legs worked anymore. The chill in her body had made her sweaty, which in turn made her feel as though she were burning up. By the time her body cooled again, she had kicked the blankets away from her and curled up in the corner of the sofa, her knees drawn to her chest. Her hair was damp from the sweat and while she shook uncontrollably, she didn't really feel it. She didn't feel anything anymore. That dark abyss was rising to meet her and she knew it would feel so blissful to just sink into it. Chase's voice was a distant sound in her ears but Mara had no idea if he was there or she was just dreaming it. She mumbled, not entirely sure what she was saying, but if Chase was really there, then he would help her.
Setting down the bucket, Chase scooped Mara up and hurried into the backyard. “It’s okay. I’m here. I got you,” he muttered as he carefully laid her down on the ground, blanket still wrapped around her. This one would likely be ruined by the end of this, but they could buy a new one. “I’ll be right back,” he said, then rushed into the house, retrieving the bucket. As fast as he was moving, he was lucky it wasn’t splashing over the edges, but he couldn’t waste a drop of it. Kneeling down beside her, Chase dipped his hands into the blood, then brought them to her face, palms on her cheeks. “Mara.” He spoke her name, but he knew it was the scent of the blood that would wake her. As soon as her eyes opened, he began to chant softly, words he’d never forgotten after casting the spell the first time.
The blood did rouse her and Chase came into view, a little blurred around the edges, but solid and real. As he spoke, she could feel the worms writhing against her body, just as they had when she had woken up in the ground and had to claw her way out of her own grave. She had tasted dirt, inhaled it and choked on it. It had been hell. Now all she wanted was to crawl back into that hole and stay there. Finding the strength to bring her hands up to grab Chase's wrists, she tried to pull them away from her. "Don't... kill me..." she breathed, digging her short nails into his skin. The panic surging inside of her made her pant harshly, as if she couldn't draw in enough oxygen to keep her lungs from burning. "Don't kill me!"
Panic flared in Chase’s chest as he fought to keep his hands on her. This hadn’t happened last time, but she’d been completely gone and bringing her back had been a different experience entirely. He thought getting the blood would be the hard part, but was proved wrong when she began to fight him. He wanted to soothe her, hold her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but that wouldn’t actually fix anything. He grabbed one of her wrists and dipped his free hand back in the blood, this time reaching out to coat her arm as she writhed against him. It was his understanding that she would want this, that it would make her feel better, but maybe she was farther gone than he expected. He didn’t know where her mind was and could only pray that if he got far enough along she’d start to take to it and remember that he was doing this to help her. He would never hurt her again.
Mara had no idea what she wanted, or what she needed. Just an icy sensation coursed through her, triggering memories of fighting and death and waking up in the ground. Amidst it all was darkness and the urge to reach up and strangle Chase. Watching her fingers dig into his throat until he couldn't breathe, Mara saw him start to turn as pale and blue as she had. But then something seemed to smooth over the razor-sharp edges within her, replacing the freezing cold with a sense of warmth that was comforting. It calmed her and Mara relaxed her body, no longer resisting what Chase was doing. Still breathing heavily, Mara watched him instead, her vision clearing enough that she could see some of the panic in his eyes. Licking her lips, Mara could feel the way the blood slicked over her skin, and she wished she could bathe in it. "Did you get hurt?" she murmured, as though the last few minutes hadn't happened and she was only now recognizing that he had come home to her.
Chase had thoroughly covered one arm with blood and was attempting to coat the second when Mara managed to get her hands around his neck. It took all of five seconds for him to realize that if she didn’t snap out of it, she was going to kill him. She was so much stronger than he remembered her ever being, strong enough that his air was gone and his lungs burned. His lips moved, either attempting to continue the chant or to beg for his life, but it didn’t matter because no sound came out. His hands gripped her wrists and he pulled, trying to pull her off him as his vision began to blur. And then suddenly, air hit his lungs, rushing in so fast it hurt. Chase gasped and coughed as his head swam, dizziness lingering. “I’m fine,” he wheezed, placing one hand on the ground to steady himself. “The blood… you should use it all…” He didn’t think he was going to pass out, but he wanted her to know in case he was wrong.
Chase's well-being slipped quickly from Mara's mind as she rolled over to get onto her knees. She felt stronger now, the nerve-endings in her body burning hotly as she dipped her hands into the bucket, absorbing the blood he had brought to her. Before she could think, Mara lifted the entire thing to pour onto her chest and shoulders. Thick crimson ran down her pale skin and she inhaled sharply as warmth flooded her from head to toe. Dropping the bucket to the ground, Mara doubled over, her hands pressed into the grass as her chest heaved with every breath. The euphoria crackling in her mind was almost orgasmic as everything seemed to click back into place. It was only then that she looked up at Chase, her bloodied hands coming to cup his face. He had brought her back. Killed for her. Mara watched her thumb slide against his cheek, smearing blood against his skin. "I hurt you," she murmured. He had marks on his throat from her hands. There should have been guilt, and maybe she felt a sliver of it, but Mara couldn't be held responsible for what she did when she was in that state. It was his fault they were in this situation, after all.
Chase’s chest heaved as he watched Mara drench herself in blood, the pain slowly beginning to ebb. He would definitely have bruises, but he wasn’t worried about that at the moment. All that mattered was that Mara got what she needed… and that he survived. For a moment there Chase hadn’t been so sure about the later. He looked up into her eyes as her hands cupped his face, relieved to recognize the woman staring back at him. “Not on purpose,” he whispered, his throat burning. “It wasn’t an accident.” The same as when he’d hurt her, though not quite as fatal. Chase wondered if this was the cycle they’d fallen into, but he hoped not. At the rate they were going, they’d both be dead by Christmas. “You feel better?” He’d get her more blood if she needed it, but he was hoping that she’d had enough for now. He just couldn’t let it get this bad again.
Accidents happened a lot when it came to the two of them. When would things stop happening accidentally and become much more purposeful? Mara licked her lips, tasting a bit of blood from her lip. "I feel okay," she murmured, still holding onto him. "I want to go inside." That was a good sign, wasn't it? The desire to bury herself in the dirt had faded and she wondered what it was about bathing in blood that eased all of those worries? Magic, she supposed. Mara exhaled and dropped her hands from Chase. She left blood smeared on his skin, but that was okay. If she weren't so exhausted, she would have been aroused. "Can we go to bed?" she whispered, aware that she might need to shower first, but Mara just wanted to be somewhere safe, alone with Chase.
It was a simple request, but moving felt daunting to Chase. His whole body was beginning to ache and he could feel a migraine coming on. There was a word for what he was feeling, for messing with magic he had no business welding, but it escaped him. All he could do was wait for it to pass and pray that the blood he’d offered in sacrifice was enough. If it wasn’t, if the being that brought Mara back wanted more… Chase imagined what it might feel like to have his insides scraped out and not even know it, not until he’d bled out completely, soaking the earth beneath him. Assuming he was still in one piece, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and tried to breathe. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice still raspy. “We might want to shower, but then bed. Definitely.”
She got to her feet, feeling shaky, but much better than she had twenty minutes ago. Chase had come through for her and now she wanted to take care of him. Reaching down to offer him her hands, Mara felt the warm breeze on her skin. The blood was drying and while she didn't want to shower, she knew she had to. He would likely want to wash the death off of his body too. Mara licked her lips and thought about what he had done to ensure she stayed with him. "We won't have any police showing up at our door in the next few days, will we?"
Chase took Mara’s hand as he rose to his feet, constantly surprised at her strength. That was something he doubted he’d ever get used to. He stood there for a second before he picked up the bucket and the dirty blanket, deciding that he couldn’t just leave them there overnight. No one was likely to wander into their backyard, but he’d feel better if they were in the garage, in a trash bag, until he could burn the blanket and bleach the bucket. He took a slow, deep breath. “No, we shouldn’t. I think if I was going to get caught, it would’ve already happened.” If someone had seen him, he’d have never made it home. Now he just had to hope he’d covered his tracks thoroughly enough.
She hoped he was right. Mara knew she wouldn't let anything happen to Chase. If someone tried to interfere or take him away from her, she would handle it. Or maybe she would ask Chase's family to handle it. How convenient to have a couple of witches living right down the street. "You know I'd do anything for you," Mara murmured, bringing his hand up to her cheek as they walked back inside. "No one is going to take you from me." She felt capable of the things Chase had done tonight for her. Hopefully he understood that.
Chase wanted to believe her, and some days he did, but with fresh bruises blooming on his neck he wasn’t as sure as he’d once been. The Mara standing beside him wasn’t quite the same as the one that had died, but he could never say so, knowing it was his fault she’d been hurt in the first place. She could have killed him and, for a moment there, he thought she might. She might do anything for him, but she might also do anything to him. He swallowed, giving her a small nod, a gesture that made his head pound even harder. “And I would never leave you.”
No, he would never leave her. Mara would make sure of that. Not that she doubted his devotion to her. He had killed someone tonight to ensure she continued to live. That was love. Mara wasn't even thinking about the fact that she'd left bruises on his throat. She hadn't been in her right mind, of course, and that was mostly his fault. She didn't want to think about anything else tonight. It had been an exhausting night for both of them. She just wanted to shower and then curl up with Chase and sleep.