Spellbound

                Even from this distance Jear’s keen eyes could see the individual strands of the raven-black hair that keep straying onto her lovely face. The rest of her hair flowing behind her in the harsh wind would look like a black smudge on a painting to an ordinary human. But Jear wasn’t an ordinary human. No, he was far from being anything ordinary.

“Jear,” a familiar voice called out breaking him out of his reverie “Come on, we’re gonna be late if we don’t get going.”  The younger male responded with only an annoyed groan. He hated that retched place. If given a choice between exposing himself to debilitating radiation without any hope of survival , or going back to Morga’s, he’d most certainly take his chances with the radiation poisoning.

“Jear, you can’t avoid Morga forever.” Mark made his way up the spiraling staircase, mentally preparing a lecture, and bring up with him brown paper bag. Jear glance, up in his friend’s direction just to see him step off the last stair then back to the window.Mark was wearing his usual get up of a tan trench coat, cargo pants and burgundy t-shirt. Fashion was never anything Mark claimed to be talented at, and there was a reason for it.

“Ha funny, I remember saying something similar about your wardrobe,” Jear smirked. It was like his friend’s soul was connected to his trench coat as he never went a day without it.Jear had made plenty comments about how his friend would be better off without it. The teen stifled a giggle remembering how many times security guards stop to interrogate them, thinking Mark was hiding firearms.

“There is nothing wrong with my wardrobe,” Mark barked, sounding rather offended. The broad man plopped down onto an old worn coach arms folded in front of his chest.

“My outfit is perfectly fine,”he added glumly, playing with tufts of cotton that fell out of oddly shaped holes. Mark knew there was nothing he could say to convince his friend to willingly go back.Jear‘s listening skills had never been all that advance even if he could now hear a pin drop all the way from Iowa. Plus he couldn’t think of anything to say other than “You have to” and “It’s a necessity.”For a moment he wondered how hard it would be to knock him out and then just carry his limp body back to Morga, but then he sighed. Jear would probably make a fuss about kidnapping.

Morga was never any good at articulating her feelings, but even for her last week was too much.Mark didn’t blame his friend for resisting to return. He would’ve done the same, but his exit would certainly have been nowhere near as dramatic as Jear’s was.Only Jear could stomp out of a room like that; he had spent years perfecting that skill along with his sarcasm. 

“I’m not sure if anyone would agree with that. Trench coats belong to the 40’s. Remember?”

“Since when did you decide we should listen to modern-day society?”

“Since my friend decided to make a fool of himself by refusing to give up his ugly trench coat.” Mark laughed at that remark.

“Yeah, out of the two of us, I’m the fool. Wasn’t it you who was tricked by a rose sprite last summer?”

“Wasn’t it you who was shot by monkey and lost a fight to him last month?” Jear shot back.

“Well played, my friend, well played,” Mark nodding his head, and then sighed. “You need to go to Morga’s. I get that you don’t like her but she is the only breaker we know. So unless you know some other way to live without a breaker we have to go.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Yeah, well I rather you live, even if you are a pain in the ass.”

“Well if I’m such a pain, then why do care?” Jear retorted. Mark released a frustrated groan. Normally he was patient with his friend, and could get through conversations like this easily. It couldn’t be easy to be frozen at such a young age, especially when that age is seventeen. A flicker of a memory flashed behind his eyes; he remembered when he was frozen. A dejected almost mournful look came over his features and his frame slouched into the couch cushions.

“What are you thinking about?” Jear asked a bit more tenderly. He learned how to recognize that look and learned it was never good. He had seen that too many times to believe otherwise.Mark glanced up at his friend; it was funny how Jear can suddenly change his mood from grumpy to one of concern. Mark had never really had much experience with humans in his life before the change, so he hadn’t really encounter mood swings. An idea popped in his mind they had been friends for a while but Mark had never shared with him how he became frozen.

It happened long ago, but Jear’s change was a bit more recent so maybe the reason behind his mood swings was grief. He had read that conversing with others who had been through a similar experience helped human teens cope with their own traumas. Maybe by telling his story he could help Jear get over the change. Maybe Jear thought he was the only one who felt dead on the inside. Maybe he could even convince him to back to Morga’s. He doubted it, teens were hard to predict.  But he decided it was worth a shot.

“I’ll tell you if you promise to go back to Morga’s afterward,” there was a moment of silence.

“Is it about your change?” Jear asked his voice mixed with eager curiosity and sincere concern.

“Yes.” A thoughtful expression came over the forever teen’s features as he pondered. Maybe his friend needed to vent about what happened; Jear knew from experience that the change was never all that pleasant. He drew in a deep breath; only for his friend’s emotional stability was he willing to endure Morga, at least long enough for the breaking.

“I’ll go” he answered sounding as the very words caused him pain.“I’ll go to Morga’s, but only long enough for the breaking. Not a second more.”

 Mark smiled, evidently pleased to hear this “Let me start then.” 

*******

Gray clouds swirled together, ugly and swollen with water. Bitter winds picked up to play with the fabric of my favorite trench coat as I trekked to the office carrying Morga’s manuscript. She had always believed that blending in with the modern world was vital to everyone’s survival, even the regular humans tried to be uniform with one another, so she decided to write a book and make a living as an author. It would serve as an explanation as to where she got the money to pay for everything. Prideful delight was written all over her face when I agreed to deliver the manuscript for her: as it would for anyone who just finished their first novel. Seeing her smile put a warm feeling in my chest wear I guess the human heart would be.

Beads of water rolled off the brim of my black fedora to only soak the paper I was carrying. I tried to save the ink writings by shielding them with my coat, which soon would be an effort in vain. Morga had put so much effort into her first novel; she would even skip meals to stay in her office. Just thinking about how happy she was put a skip in my step and fueled my determination to deliver her manuscript, but it also made me feel guilty about the damp spot. A shiver ran up my spin, I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

I just simply figured that it was cold enough for even my kind to freeze. Back then I was simply a vampire who was in the middle of learning how to blend in and did not fully understand what made vampires different from human beings. I thought the only difference was our taste in food. My parents figured that it would do me well to know the truth, so they sent me to their good childhood friend Carly Twain. She was the head breaker before Morga. Not that I knew what a breaker was at the time, all I really knew was that Ms. Twain and her daughter Morga were to teach me the things you missed out on when you were born a vampire.

Thoughts about my studies and the stories Ms. Twain told preoccupied my blithe mind as I trudged through the horrid weather. A sharp pain burned my side. The intensity of it caused me to drop the papers as I saw the black blur out of the corner of my eye. Before I could even register that I was falling, I hit the ground, the impact sending a jolt of pain up my shoulder. A shadowy figure loomed over me; a pale blue light traced its silhouette.  A similar icy harsh blue light spiked from his hand, like a sparkler on the fourth of July. The light extended it was like a wispy string, grabbing hold of my forearm.

An intense sting shot through my whole body as it made contact with my skin through the coat’s sleeve. I tried to yank my arm away but it wouldn’t obey my command, so instead I tried to kick out, only my leg wouldn’t listen either. My body was paralyzed, weather by fear or poison I didn’t known. All I could I see was the hash light that blinded me.  Pain seared my arm and side and then my vision went dark. The light was gone as well was my warmth.

The next time I came to, I was lying on a couch in Carly Twain’s office. My side along with my limbs felt sore and tight, like I hadn’t moved in days. Gentle snores filled the room giving it a peaceful atmosphere. It was hard to keep my eyelids open. I laid my head back down and notice that it wasn’t a pillow my head was initially propped up on. My head rested comfortably on Morga’s lap, she was asleep with her head lolled to side cushioned by the couch’s arm.

“Morga?” my voice came out meek and cracked. It wasn’t until then when I noticed how dry my throat felt and how cold the room was. A wool blanket and quilt was draped over me but I could still feel the bite of cold air.

“Huh, what?” Morga woke up with an unsteady start.

“Morga what happened? Why is it so cold in here?” She ran her fingers through my hair playing with it, while wearing a sad smile.

“It’s not the room,” her voice cracked and wavered, “It’s you. You’re a Frozen.” It sounded like she might cry.

The confusion must have been evident on my face because she continued to explain “What you saw during the attack was a Blur. No one knows what they are. We just know that they have the ability to turn anyone into a Frozen by stealing their life force. The drainage causes a couple of changes the same way vampire venom changes humans. You can now survive without a life force, but without one your joints will become stiff and you won’t be able to move. It’ll be like you’re frozen in a block of ice.” A tear slid down her cheek and landed on mine. I was too tired to really respond or comprehend what she meant. 

“That’s why breakers exist. Breakers are humans with an excessive amount of life energy and have been trained to give their life energy to others like Frozens. My mom gave you some of her Life force.”

*********

“Morga can cry?” Jear exclaimed sounding as if the very thought was astonishing.

“Jear, please! Of course she can’t cry, she has no heart,” Jear laughed at his friend’s joke, knowing he wasn't the least bit serious. Standing up Mark threw Jear a brown paper bag and then headed towards the stairs.

“What’s this?” the boy asked curiously examining the bag in his lap.

“Lunch, you may be frozen but you still need to eat.” He paused and then added as if it were an afterthought. “I think it’s a human thing.”

“Don’t frozen vampires need to eat to?” he questioned almost sounding cheerful.

“Nope, and it’s probably a good thing,” the male looked back and gestured with a wave of his hand. “Come on, I’m sure Morga is already getting impatient.” Grumbling, the teen followed reluctantly behind the larger male. Radiation poisoning was beginning to sound like a really good idea right about then.