Prologue: Vander
Another night of monotony, another night of sorting through the files of her patients, surrounded by the scent of sickness and cheap medicine. It was supposed to be another night.
Zara couldn’t focus on the document in front of her. Fingers nervously clacking against the keyboard—often pressing the wrong key. An uncommon behavior that betrayed her years in medicine.
The inside of these hospital walls felt colder than usual. The chatter of her other nurses fell to deaf ears, blissfully unaware. They couldn’t feel his presence. They could only continue their small talk, gossip, and work as if it were another night of monotony.
The clicks of her clock slowed as the seconds stretched. Every tick rang louder. And louder.
Until… clack.
Wooden soles tapping on tiles jolted her heart back to beating. Its loud drums ringing in her ear as every step he took seemed to match its rhythm. Slow, measured marches to the front desk.
None of the other nurses stopped to greet him, walking by and continuing on as if he were never there.
Her hands left the keyboard as she stood up to address him. She gripped her left arm to center herself, holding close the reason she agreed to this meeting in the first place. The man stood before her, unnoticed despite his towering stature.
“Mystic Resonance.” He spoke, voice deep and eerily smooth. The chatter stopped, and the hospital fell into a deathly silence. She raised her head to see her co-workers frozen in time, gripping her left arm as her only protection.
“Now we can speak with no interruptions,” he started. “Greetings, Mrs. Binyam.” The man placed his right hand over his heart and stepped his left leg behind the right to give a short bow. “Or should I call you, Zara, as the locals do in this filth of a city?”
Zara opened her mouth to speak, stammering through her words before forming a somewhat proper sentence. “Y-You’re here for t-the package, correct?”
“I enjoy that about your kind,” He starts, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t linger on trivial small talk like your Northern counter parts.”
“So that means you’ll take him, right? My son can go to Rosemary?” She asks, still unable to make eye contact with him.
“We have quite the interesting cast of characters this year.” The man circled the front desk, gliding his black gloves across its wooden surface. “Chris Macklemore, a young genius plucked from our neighboring city, Bostonic. His claims on Newark’s academic titles are all but certain.” He stopped by the entrance of her booth, holding the door handle for a moment too long. “Then there’s Nami…” He paused, “A recommendation from one I couldn’t deny. Though bothersome, her prowess for combat remains unmatched.”
He snapped out of his momentary hesitation and opened the door to her booth. “Then there’s your son.” Catching the hint Zara walked out her booth, avoiding her frozen co-workers. She led him down the deeper portions of the hospital while he continued.
“A Southerner, and the son of a tyrant no less. Why would I let someone like that roam the halls of my establishment.” He covered his mouth, shielding his disgusted sneer.
“We had a deal.” She said, biting back the bile of anger that simmered inside her.
“Exactly, Mrs. Binyam.” He said, leaning over her ear. She backed to a wall, her chest heaving as her heart slammed against her ribs.
“What can your son offer me outside of this agreement of ours. I promised to take him, but by no means do I feel the need to keep a useless student.”
Zara calmed herself, hand gripping the fabric over her chest. “My son is not slouch when it comes to academics. Top of his class when it comes to engineering, so I’m certain he will be great asset to your goal.” She said, her son’s smile coming to mind.
The man shrugged, gesturing his hand in request for her to continue leading the way.
She complied.
Their walk led them to the children’s section of the hospital. Soft lights illuminated this section. Highlighting the cracked walls and barely sturdy doors.
If only I could do the same for all my children. She thought, passing by the heavily ill children of the 10th ward
“I expect your son to bring more than just academic success.” He said, breaking their silence as they neared his destination. “Should all go according to plan then he would truly be a great asset.” He passed a pitiful glance at the sick children barely holding on to life, covering his mouth to hide the disgusted sneer on his lips.
“Does that mean you’ll take him?” She repeated, stopping in front of a door labelled in red.
“Pace yourself, Mrs. Binyam, I have yet to confirm the quality of said package.” He said. Zara gripped her left arm, stifling her shivers.
“Your package is beyond door, I need to know my son can go to your school before I open.”
The man’s eye twitches as he places his hand over his mouth. “You deny me?” He asked, maintaining his soothing honey like voice.
Zara stepped in front of the door, turning to him defiantly.
He scoffed, cracking his fingers through his black gloves as he formed a fist.
He lunged, swinging his fist as his eyes flashed a deep red. Only to stop, his glove burnt off.
“No, you’re right.” He said, slowly backing away from her. “I wouldn’t want to deal with your husband’s protection, so how about we settle this diplomatically?” Zara caught her breath, shocked by how close he was to killing her. Her left arm glowed, but that glow slowly faded. Sensing the danger subsided.
The man raised the hand that had just struck at her, revealing the deathly pale skin he hid under it. “Let’s make a pact of blood.” He started, “So long as you deliver me a package of suitable quality, then I’ll allow your son a spot in my school.”
Zara calmed herself, analyzing every word as she understood the nature of these pacts. Contracts that bound both parties to the agreed upon conditions.
“This girl, she diagnosed with glioblastoma. Age 16 with healthy physique, blood type, RhNull. Does that meet your standards?” She asked, raising her head to finally meet his gaze.
He smiled, “This condition of hers—you can heal it, correct?”
Zara hesitated with her right hand, pondering on the decision before her—the life she was about to give away.
She reached out. Gaze sharpened. Convictions solidified.
The man took her hand in his as a mark glowed on both of their hands, his eyes glowing red. Chains circled their bodies, burying themselves in their hearts. The mark bled, its sting burning Zara, but her gaze remained locked on to his. The glow waned, until it died out. Disappearing with the chains but leaving a mark on both of their hands.
Her blood ran cold, as her rampant emotions calmed. She turned to the door and opened it. Her foot rooted itself for a moment, before she took a step beyond the boundary of no return. There she was, staring at the moon through her window, frozen in time by the man’s strange spell. Her eyes caught in a deep state of longing.
The man walked by the bed, waving his hand over her.
The girl blinked, before turning her head to see them. “M-Mrs. Zara? I didn’t hear you come in. What a pleasant surprise.” She noticed Zara avoid eye contact, keeping her gaze locked on the floor.
“Oh, apologies sir,” She turned to the man pinching her bed sheets to bow in a short curtsy. “My name is Lily. And you are?”
The man’s smile went gentle as he offered his own formal bow. “Vander young mistress.” Vander stood straight, adjusting his formal attire to look neat. “I’ve come to see the great Zara Binyam perform a miracle.”
“A miracle?” She echoed. “You mean now?” She clasped her hands on her cheeks. “I thought my appointment was weeks from now.” She said in both excitement and confusion.
“You’ve been moved up as per request from a rather wealthy patron. Mrs. Zara simply couldn’t deny it.” Vander gestures toward her, causing her to flinch under her skin. Holding herself tighter than before.
“Oh, but I thought my condition wasn’t dire. Don’t other patients need your touch?” Lily asked.
“I-It’s best you don’t concern yourself habibi, I’ll still have enough power to heal my next appointment.” Zara hesitantly took Lily’s hand, her cold skin warmed by Lily’s touch.
“Are you okay, Ms. Zara?” Lily asked. Zara gently pushed her down on the bed, making sure her neck rested comfortably.
“Anything you like to say, before I begin?” Zara asked, adopting a gentle smile.
“Like what?” Lily wondered, “Sorry, this is all a bit sudden.” She chuckles.
“What Mrs. Binyam is trying to ask, Ms. Lily, is if you plan on doing anything with your new life?” Vander said, arms wrapped behind his back as he waited.
“Uhm… I’ve never really thought of that.” She admitted. “I’ve never really been able to socialize well with my peers. You can imagine how sucky my dating life was.” She giggled. “There was this one girl I had the hots for, but I could only see her at school. Maybe now I can work up the courage to ask for her number.” Zara placed a hand on her cheek as it glowed a soft orange hue.
“Is that so?” Zara asked.
“Yeah. The doctor said I had about a year to live, so I never thought of what I’d like to be when I grow up.” She paused looking at Zara’s amber eyes. Her eyelids got heavy, and her limbs went numb.
“Maybe I can come work for you, Ms. Zara.” She said in between a yawn. “I’ve seen the work you do, the people you’ve saved… I want to… be a hero… just like… you.”
Zara dropped her gaze, teeth grinding against each other as she held back her sob.
“My patience has its limits, Mrs. Binyam. Get on with it.” Vander said, stepping out to allow her the room to operate.
_________________________//
Silence, one that enveloped her in a sea of warmth. Barely conscious, her vision drifted between dreamy glowing hues and the cracked white ceiling she had grown accustomed to. “Mrs. Zara?” Lily called out in her dreamy daze.
Heavy coughs rattled the air—Another sick patient? She wondered. Her neck felt stiff, unable to survey the room, she twitched her fingers, but that remained the limit of her movement.
“Mrs. Zara.” Lily called again, but still no answer. A face, one her dazed vision barely recognized until it hovered mere inches from her own.
“Van—” Her sentence cut short as a searing pain shot from her neck. Vander brought his pale blue hand—index stained with blood, to his lips and coiled his tongue around it. That’s when Lily caught a glimpse of the needle like fangs that glistened with the glow of the full moon.
“Very nice.” His voice came muffled by the loud throb in her ear. Her body twitched to gain some movement, any movement.
“Come now Lily, this shall all be over soon.” Vander coiled his slender arms around her waist, pulling closer. His hot breath brushed down her throat as he lingered there for a moment too long.
Lily’s eyes scanned the room for an escape, eventually falling to the source of the coughing from earlier. “Mrs. Zara! Hep me, prease!” She mumbled out, tongue still numb.
Zara turned to her mouth covered to stifle her coughs. Her gaze lingered, but despite the fog in her vision, Lily recognized the look in her once cheerful amber eyes. The same look she’d see from the adults who’d pass a beggar on the streets. The look of indifference.
The burning pain returned like hot coal on her flesh. She gasped, feeling her breath being sapped from her lungs. She couldn’t scream. Her hands pressed against Vander’s chest, unable to push him away. Ice seeped in her veins, replacing any heat in her body until everything went cold. Darkness enclosed from the corners of her eyes as she stared at Zara’s back. Reaching out to her as the dream of the life she could’ve lived flashed before her eyes until…
Everything went dark, and she died.
The room went quiet. Zara’s cough ceased as she hugged herself by the corner. Drowning her thoughts in the image of her son. Imagining the smile on her his face as she convinced herself that she’d made the right call. Eventually, the sounds of his drinking ended. Replaced by the slow clacking of his wooden souls.
“I must say, despite my high expectations, I’m left rather impressed with the result.” Zara turned to him, unable to meet his gaze. An envelope dropped before her, signed with a thumb print of blood.
She stared at the brown paper before raising her gaze to meet Vander’s. Lily rested lifelessly in his arms. Blood stained on her neck and hospital gown.
“’twas a pleasure doing business with you.” The red mark on their hands glittered, before vanishing completely. The end of their contract.
