Severing Sanguine: A Companion Book to The Fallocaust Series Book 2

SEVERING SANGUINE

A COMPANION BOOK TO THE FALLOCAUST SERIES BOOK 2

By Quil Carter

© 2015 Quil Carter

All Rights Reserved

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission.

Also in The Fallocaust Series

Fallocaust Book 1

Breaking Jade - A Companion Book to Fallocaust Book 1

Fallocaust Book 2 - The Ghost and the Darkness Vol. 1

Fallocaust Book 2 - The Ghost and the Darkness Vol. 2

IMPORTANT NOTICE!

This book contains
extreme
depictions of child abuse on top of the other trigger warnings you already know you’re getting into when reading my books. This is your only warning: this book is exceedingly dark and it will take you to some fucked up places. Though that being said certain abuse is
neither glorified nor embellished
. It just is what it is.

Read at your own risk.

This book is dedicated to the boy who hid under the bed.

“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.” – Oscar Wilde

He stood in the corner with his back to the wall trying with every ounce of him to make his face appear as neutral as possible. Like a captured wild animal he watched from the shadows with his heartbeat a steady drum for the man to make the first move.

These strange people always made the first move. The ones who had captured him had wasted no time showing off their power – though the man in the shadows had put up a fight.

But now the atmosphere around them was different; an eerie calm that rested badly against his unravelling stoicism. It was unsettling, a soft draw of a well-rosined bow that steadily climbed higher until you automatically felt your teeth start to clench.

“Take a seat, Sanguine,” the man in the suit said, breaking the heavy tension in the room, and though Sanguine’s face still held its calm the man could hear the boy’s pulse jump.

The only move Sanguine made was to press his back up against the wall; his shining reflective eyes fixing on the man sitting in the chair. He didn’t take his eyes off of him; if anything he started watching him more intently.

“We’re going to get this session over with one way or another, Sanguine. We can either do it with you a spectre in the darkness or you can sit down on the opposite chair,” the man said in the same casual voice, though this one held an authoritative edge to it. “I will even allow you to have a cigarette.”

Sanguine’s head jerked towards the man until he remembered himself. He forcibly relaxed his body again but there was no masking the want that had appeared in his eyes.

The man on the chair slowly and deliberately reached into his dark blue blazer before pulling out one of those funny blue cigarettes. Sanguine’s kryptonite, cigarettes, especially the blue-embered ones, had been Sanguine’s only comfort since he was seven years old.

The man held the cigarette by the filter and watched as Sanguine slowly started to inch himself from the darkness.

Sanguine, a man of nineteen years, stepped into the light of the room; though as the light illuminated his features it was obvious that he was no ordinary man.

Sanguine had two deep crimson eyes and straight black hair that fell several inches past his ears; he had a thin, unhealthy face and black circles underneath his eyes; a look that was familiar to anyone who lived in the greywastes.

The man pinched the filter of the cigarette with his fingers and watched as Sanguine slowly sat down; his red eyes going in all directions as he scanned the room for any further threats.

“I am Dr. Mantis Dekker, chimera psychologist and councillor of Skyfall, did Nero inform you of your schedule with me?” Mantis asked, retracting his hand slowly as Sanguine took the cigarette from him. He was about to offer the young man a light but with a flare of smoke Sanguine lit the tip of the cigarette with his finger.

Sanguine took a long inhale of the blue-embered cigarette before breaking his lips away from the filter with a pop. He held it in for a second before letting the silver plumes escape his mouth with a long drawn-out sigh.

Mantis turned the page on one of Sanguine’s papers, the red-eyed young man still enjoying the cigarette with his head tilted forwards. His stance and the way he was almost keeled over the smoke suggested that it meant more to him than just a temporary relief from his anxious emotions.

“Do you wish for me to call you Sami? Would that make you more comfortable?” Mantis asked. In lieu of cigarettes Mantis picked up a glass of red wine; he took a small sip of it before setting it down on the black oak side table beside him.

Sanguine, still slumped forward with the cigarette in his mouth, shook his head. “Sanguine is fine,” he said in a deep raspy voice; he paused for a moment before adding. “Sami is dead.”

Mantis’s charcoal grey eyes were fixed on Sanguine and if Sanguine had looked up he would’ve caught the slight dilation of his pupils. This statement seemed to hold a greater interest on the psychologist.

“Did you kill Sami?”

“He killed himself.”

“And…” There was a pause as Mantis turned the page on a thick, stapled stack of paper. “Crow… when was the last time you saw him?”

“He’s here right now.”

“So right now we can say for certain… you can see him?”

Another silver plume was blown from Sanguine’s lips; he nodded slowly and took another drag, already half-finished his cigarette. As his lips broke away this time a row of serrated sharp teeth could be seen.

“That’s right,” he said in a low voice.

“You don’t call yourself Crow though when he comes? It’s not quite like you slip into a different skin?”

Sanguine shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. I’m – I know I’m Sanguine.”

“But you don’t quite know who Sanguine is do you? That name was always just what you called yourself inside your head.”

“When the other two weren’t around… yeah.” Sanguine glanced up when he heard movement; he took the ashtray that Mantis was offering him and dashed his cigarette. As he did his eyes flickered around the room and in response he scrunched himself far into the chair he was sitting on.

Mantis nodded and took another drink of wine; when he sat his glass down he picked up a fine-tipped black pen and started writing on the piece of paper he had been looking at.

“Perhaps Sanguine is who you were always meant to be but the trauma of your childhood and adolescence in the greywastes stopped him from becoming more than a blank slate. What do you think of that, Sanguine?” Mantis asked.

Sanguine stared at his cigarette and was silent.

“Could be,” Sanguine said after more than a comfortable amount of silence had passed. He then extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray and started looking around again. “I’d like to go now.”

Mantis reached into his pocket again and pulled out another cigarette, though this time Sanguine didn’t take it.

“No.” Sanguine rubbed his nose and swept the room with his gaze again. He shifted nervously in his seat before drawing his knees up; he wrapped his arms around them trying to make himself as small as possible.

Mantis placed the cigarette on the side table. “Sanguine, when you fall into this psychosis – do you black out?”

Sanguine seemed to bristle at this; his mouth pursed and his slender arms clenched his knees tighter to him.

“I’m not that… bad.” Sanguine’s voice dropped into frigid waters. “I don’t forget anything; I just… feel…”

“Liberated? Like being someone else justifies your actions?” Mantis asked. “I found it is a common thing with chimera teenagers to refer to their darker half by another name. It helps them disassociate with what violent acts they are committing.”

“I’m not… one of you.”

“I am not a chimera, Sanguine.” Mantis offered the cigarette to Sanguine again and this time the man took it. “Whereas chimeras are born from what they call their steel mothers I was made immortal after the fact and accepted into this family.”

“Why?” Sanguine’s eyes rose to greet Mantis’s, this fact seemed to catch his attention.

“I helped, and am helping, King Silas properly raise his second generation of chimeras and smooth off some rough edges we have been seeing in their personalities. As a reward for my involvement and my help he granted me immortality and several enhancements. I am now one of King Silas’s advisors and I work with all chimeras young and adult.”

Sanguine brought the new cigarette up to his mouth and lit it. “They’re all fucking crazy.”

Mantis smiled and tented his hands; he tapped his index fingers together. “That is debatable. Are we not all a little crazy, Sanguine?”

Sanguine said nothing back; he only put the cigarette back up to his lips to take a long drag. “I wasn’t saying I wasn’t; I was just saying they –” Sanguine waved his cigarette towards the large oak door that led into Mantis’s apartment. “– all are too. I know I’m crazy; I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Sanguine. I think you have a lot of inner turmoil inside of you and a lot of self-hatred. I don’t think you want to leave because you’re wary of me, I think you want to leave because deep down – you don’t think you’re worth saving.” The entire time Mantis said these words he watched Sanguine’s reactions. Sure enough, he witnessed the young chimera’s mouth pull down and his fingers tighten around his knees.

“King Silas thinks you’re very much worth saving; I do too,” he added, prompted by the young chimera’s expression.

Sanguine paused; his breath caught in his throat before he regained his composure and shook his head. “No,” was all he replied.

Mantis nodded; he wrote more on the paper he was holding before putting the papers down and picking up a manila file folder. He leafed through it and took out a paper with a photo clipped on the corner.

“Sanguine… I want to know about the man Silas, Nero, and Ceph found you with,” Mantis said “I’d like you to talk about Jasper.”

Like Mantis had just reached over and smacked him in the face, Sanguine visibly recoiled. A silence came over the two of them, but unlike the previous silence this one seemed to set the air around them on fire.

“Don’t talk to me about Jasper,” Sanguine’s raspy voice whispered. His red eyes became as hard as rubies and his right eyebrow started to lightly twitch. Like a snake contorting itself Sanguine started writhing in his spot. His fingers clenched the chair, and his boots scraped against the floor like he was physically trying to get away from someone. All at the mention of Jasper, the entire demeanor of the chimera changed.

“Sanguine… tell me what’s happening?” Mantis narrowed his eyes; he raised his hand like he was signalling someone, before he himself rose and stood over Sanguine. “What is happening in your head?”

Sanguine’s face twisted in pain; his lips pressed together before his mouth was covered by his hand. He seemed to be clenching his mouth so hard Mantis could see white patches forming around his fingers.

“Sanguine… I’d like you to stay present; can you concentrate on my voice?” Mantis reached a hand out, and as Sanguine bowed his head, hand still clamped over his mouth, he rested the hand on Sanguine’s shoulder. Knowing that Sanguine couldn’t see him, he glanced behind his shoulder and shook his head at something, though it appeared that only the two of them were in the room.

“Sanguine, what are you seeing?”

“Jasper,” Sanguine’s raspy voice croaked. Mantis looked down and saw ruby droplets of blood start to fall to the floor, spilling from the fingers Sanguine had grabbing his mouth.

“What did Jasper do to you?” Mantis asked, his tone just lightly urging his words forward. “Is what he did to you the reason you think you’re not worthy of help?”

Sanguine shook his head back and forth, more blood dripping red roads down his pale cheeks then onto the grey carpet below.

“Sanguine…”

“Don’t ask me about Jasper.”

“What did he do to you?”

There was silence.

Mantis stood there, his hand resting gently on Sanguine’s shoulder; the red-eyed chimera still looking down with his fingers digging into his own face. The room around them seemed to be plunging into darkness, getting deeper by the second, everything was fading, turning into a slate monotone that repelled all colour.

Sanguine stared at the floor, the voices that were usually only murmurs in his mind now getting louder. They multiplied and spread their forces, seeping into each fold of his brain and digging in to burrow themselves into the sensitive parts of his mind, spreading their cancer in the form of images and feelings that Sanguine had never been able to escape.

They brought with their infection the residue of what had happened to him during his time in the greywastes and as that infection spread and festered in his brain, a new consciousness in him rose from the sepulture of nightmares that was his mind.

Then the change came. The one that Mantis had heard about but had never seen.

The switch that got pulled – where the scared boy hiding under the bed left – and the monster sprung forth.

Sanguine removed his now blood-covered hand from his mouth.

“You ask me… what did he do to me?” Sanguine said in a dry raspy voice.

Mantis didn’t bat an eye; he slowly removed his hand from Sanguine’s shoulder and took a step back.

“I can still smell his rancid body…”

Mantis watched Sanguine’s mouth move, annunciating each word as if each syllable was a diamond on his lips. “I am still being terrorized by the sound of Lyle’s skull cracking under the table leg, of Cooper whimpering under my hand.”

“What did these boys do to deserve this, Sanguine?” Mantis dropped his voice. “Why did–”

In a movement that happened so quickly Mantis had no time to react, Sanguine jumped up from his chair and grabbed the psychologist by the tie he was wearing; Sanguine yanked him until they were face-to-face and held Mantis there.

Mantis’s eyes fixed forward, not a single emotion gracing his face, not even when Sanguine smiled menacingly at him, revealing every single one of his serrated shark-like teeth.

“
Daisy Daisy,”
Sanguine murmured in a singing voice; his red eyes narrowed and his hand raised; he cupped Mantis’s chin and tilted his own head back and forth like he was examining him. “
Give me your heart to do
.”