Once Bitten, Twice Shy WHO Elise Delaney OT Levi Whitby WHAT One way ticket to paradise Willow Creek WHERE Bus → Willow Creek Bus Station WHEN Saturday, August 31, 2013 ~6:50PM (flashback) WARNINGS TBD
...The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round all through the town…
The children's song, some flicker of a memory from her childhood, kept repeating in the young woman's head. For all she knew, it was her only tenuous link to sanity — once the song stopped, maybe she would snap. The farther she got from home, the better, but it didn't make her feel better. Everything about the last 48 hours was a jumbled mass of chaos in her brain. What was real? What wasn't?
She could wish that this was all just a bad dream. She could wish that she'd had some kind of psychotic break and that her body was, even now, strapped down in some mental ward somewhere and that this entire journey had been some trippy delusion. She'd never moved out of the dorm with her friends. She'd never gone out to Dante's to celebrate. She'd never met Jesse, who was too gorgeous to be real anyway.
She'd never attacked Killian.
But she had.
Just the memory of it stirred feelings inside of her — feelings that both disgusted and intrigued her. She'd caused him pain. She'd almost killed him. She couldn't be sure that she hadn't. For that, she needed to be punished. But she could still feel the way his blood had filled her mouth, thick and rich and hot. She'd felt his pulse with each spurt that bubbled up from the wound in his neck. The wound she'd created. With her fangs. And she'd reveled in it, in his very life's blood as it slid down her throat and spilled down her chin, too much, too fast for her to take it all in.
She hated herself for what she'd done, and she hated herself for wanting more even as the sight of him, so pale, covered in his own blood, burned bright in her memory.
She could never go back. She'd known that as soon as the screams of her friends had broken through her haze of hunger. And so she'd run.
The looks she'd drawn as she raced down the sidewalk were horrified. Several people had tried to stop her, to ask her if she was okay, if she needed a doctor or needed the cops. She'd pushed them off of her with a strength she hadn't even known she possessed, but she was too conspicuous. Where was she going? What was her plan? The only thing she'd grabbed on her way out of the apartment was her purse. She couldn't even go to her parents' house because Killian would need them. How could she face them, knowing what she'd done? Oh, God, what if she really had killed him?
As the panic began to rise inside, she'd ducked into a darkened alley to catch her breath and just think for a moment. It hadn't brought any answers. When she'd dug her compact out of her purse, she couldn't recognize her reflection. She'd done her best to scrub her brother's blood off of her face with hand sanitizer and a wad of Kleenex. Even when the tissues began to breakdown in shreds of red and white, she continued to rub, until she couldn't tell if the stain on her skin was from the blood or her abrasive attempt to cleanse herself.
She didn't have a phone. She didn't even have her bank card. All she had was her compact, a tube of lip gloss, a brush, a small sketchpad with pencils, and her wallet. All that was in there was the cash she'd withdrawn from the bank on moving day, in case of any unexpected expenses, her school ID, social security card, about $5 in change, and a couple of pictures. She'd taken her debit card and ID with her to the club the other night and hadn't used them since. They were probably still in the back pocket of the shorts she'd been wearing that night, which were in her clothes hamper because she'd woken up in a dumpster.
A dumpster. Where that asshole had literally dumped her after he'd...attacked her. How had she thought he was attractive at all? He was...a monster. She would have sworn he'd bitten her. No, she knew he had. There was no other explanation for the blood that had soaked her clothing then as well, but she'd wanted to believe that it was just some sick joke. There hadn't been any bite mark left behind. There had been nothing, not even a hickey.
Only the blood. Her blood. And now she was covered in Killian's blood. Would this happen to him too?
She'd finally left the alley and had tried to blend in as well as possible with the others who were out and about on a Friday morning. She'd wandered the streets, crossed Portage Bay, swiped a hoodie from the back of a chair at an outside cafe near Capitol Hill. She'd taken Broadway down to Yesler, followed it to 4th. Her footsteps carried her with no input from her conscious mind, not until she'd crossed over to 6th and she'd seen the bus terminal right there.
There were a limited number of places she could go with the cash she had, and she only knew she wanted to get as far away as possible, as soon as possible. She'd bought a ticket. One-way. Every hour that passed as she'd waited for her departure time was agony, and she'd finally broken down and asked a guy sitting next to her if she could use his phone. He'd looked at her as if she were some deviant, and she knew that was a fair assessment. But then something weird had happened. She'd asked him again, practically willing him to give in, and she'd watched as his expression glazed over before he handed her the cell.
No one answered. She went down the list. Was that a good thing...or bad? Killian's was the last number she'd dialed, and it was the only message she'd left. I'm sorry. I'm so...so sorry, Killie.
The bus had left at 6:30 P.M. Her ticket said the trip would take over 24 hours. She'd taken a seat in the back, next to the window, and pulled her hood up. It was a clear sign she wanted to be left alone. Then she'd watched as Seattle faded away. Tacoma, Olympia, Portland, Eugene. The bus stopped every couple of hours, but it traveled straight througn the night. They reached Medford at 6:10 A.M. on Saturday, and only then was there a span of several hours before the bus would be on its way again. She could have stayed there. Gotten off the bus and just disappeared. But it wasn't far enough.
The sunlight bothered her. She hadn't noticed it in the chaos of the previous morning, but now all she could feel was the way it drained her. It was too bright, too hot. And she was hungry.
With the change from her purse, she'd stocked up on soda and a variety of candy and chips to tide her over. An hour after she'd scarfed down a bag of Cheetos, she regretted it. Intensely. But even after throwing it up, it didn't ease her hunger any. It was a painful need, undeniable, irresistible. Almost. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see him. She could see the blood. She could smell it. In everyone who passed by, she could smell their blood underneath so many other scents, and she could hear it thumping, pulsing through their veins.
She had to be crazy.
She'd resisted. She wasn't sure how she resisted, but she did. The bus left again at 4:10 P.M. and she was on it, in the back, huddled into herself as she watched the pavement pass. And in her head, the song continued.
...The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round all through the town…
The minutes ticked by and the memories played on.
And the hunger grew.
By the time the bus rolled to a stop in the small town of Willow Creek, Elise knew she had to get off. It didn't matter if the bus left without her. She needed to find something she could eat, now, or she was going to do something else she'd regret.