Mate 02 - Confused

Sage’s Point of View

I walked up to him, smiling. He seemed tired and hungry. I handed him the barbecue.

“Hi,” I said slowly, offering the stick. “Are you hungry? You can have this.”

The child, whose face was covered in dirt, looked at me as if surprised. He carefully took the barbecue, his hand shaking as he accepted it. Even though he was clearly hungry, he still seemed cautious around people.

I sat beside him to try to talk to him.

“What’s your name?”

He didn’t answer. His eyes locked onto mine, but his expression was distant as if he were lost in some other world.

“Where are your parents? How did you end up here?” I asked, my voice trembling just a little. The words spilled out before I could stop them; my chest tight with unease.

Still, no response. He just stared at me like he didn’t even hear the things I said..

“I’m Sage,"” I continued, the silence making my words rush out, trying to fill the void. “My mom’s registering us so we can watch the performance here in the plaza. It’s my birthday today,” I said quietly, more to myself than him. My heart skipped a beat, wondering why I had mentioned it at all.

His eyes flickered briefly, but he still didn’t speak. His silence was unnerving, and I felt a strange ache in my chest.

“Sage, where are you?” My mom’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension.

I stood up quickly, waving to her. “I’m here, Mom!”

“Happy birthday, Sage,” the boy whispered, his voice barely audible, like a secret meant just for me. His words hung in the air, fragile and uncertain.

Before I could even respond, the boy suddenly stood up, his body tense, and without warning, he darted off, running fast through the crowd.

My heart pounded. “Wait! Please, wait!” I called out, my voice shaky. I rushed toward him, my mind spinning. “I’ll tell my mom to register you, too! Don’t go!”

But as I reached my mother, I saw the guards already moving toward the boy. Their eyes were scanning the crowd, purposive in every step. “Mom, we have to help him!” I said, my voice frantic as I grabbed her sleeve. “He’s running because they’re looking for him!”

“What?” She was confused while glancing around.

I pointed at the boy, but he was already out of sight, swallowed up by the crowd. “He was just here,” I said desperately. “We have to help him!”

We quickly turned to retrace our steps, but it was no use. The guards were chasing after him, and by the time we made it back to the plaza, he was gone.

Disappointed and helpless, I slumped into a seat next to my mom. “I’ve never even got his name,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

My mom looked at me with concern in her eyes. “Sage, I have a feeling that the boy will be okay. Besides, it’s your birthday today and your first time watching the performance, so focus for now, all right?”

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just slipped through my fingers. The boy, his whisper, the fear in his eyes—it all haunted me as we settled down to watch the show, and yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

When we arrived at Aunt Cecilia’s house, the sun was beginning to dip low, casting a soft golden glow over the backyard. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees. Aunt Cecilia greeted us with her usual warmth, wrapping Mom in a tight hug. Their voices blended with laughter as they chatted, reminiscing about old times.

Aunt Cecilia turned to me with a bright smile. “Sage, it’s your special day!" she said, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve got something for you."

Curious, I followed her into the kitchen where she pulled out a small, carefully decorated cupcake topped with a single lit candle. The flame flickered gently, casting a warm glow on the sweet treat. “Make a wish, Sage,” she said, her voice soft and encouraging.

Mom joined us, standing by with a proud smile. “Go on, sweetie.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and made my wish. The candlelight danced in front of me, and I felt a quiet happiness. I opened my eyes, grinning as I blew out the candle, the small puff of air extinguishing the flame.

“Happy birthday, Sage!” Aunt Cecilia cheered, clapping her hands. Theo, Aunt Cecilia’s son, appeared at the door, holding a ball. “Hey, Sage! Come on, let’s go play outside,” he said eagerly.

Mom nodded, smiling at me. “Go ahead, enjoy the evening.”

I grabbed the ball and followed Theo out the door, feeling light and happy. The warmth of the celebration lingered in my heart, and the world seemed to glow even brighter as we stepped outside into the cool air.

Aunt Cecilia waved from the doorway. “Don’t be out too long, alright?”

I nodded, already excited to run around.

Theo and I joined the other kids for a lively game of tag. The sound of laughter echoed through the yard, the warm evening air filled with carefree joy. For a fleeting moment, I forgot everything else—the worries, the tension—and just allowed myself to enjoy the simple happiness of the game.

But then, a sound broke through the laughter—a faint groan, barely a whisper, but it was there, tugging at something deep inside me.

"Did you hear that?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly. I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest.

“What?” One of the kids shrugged, continuing to run as if nothing was wrong, their carefree laughter returning. But something in the pit of my stomach told me something wasn’t right so I glanced around, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that was creeping over me.

Without another word, I began to follow the sound. It led me toward the alley behind the house, the shadows growing darker with each step I took. My breath caught in my throat as I rounded the corner, and there—slumped against the cold brick wall—was the same boy I had helped earlier—the one I had given the barbecue to.

His face was ashen, sweat clinging to his brow like a veil of distress. His breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling erratically. A deep, gaping wound marred his side, blood oozing from the jagged edges. My heart clenched, and a chill ran through me as I approached him.

I fell to my knees beside him, my hands trembling. “Hey! What happened to you?” I asked desperately, my voice breaking with worry.

He winced, his eyes barely open, and his hand clutched his side with a grimace. “Don’t come closer . . . it’s dangerous,” he whispered, his voice faint and strained, as if the very act of speaking was exhausting him.

I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. “I can’t just leave you here,” I urged, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I reached out to touch his wound. There was no time to think, no time to process what was happening. I just needed to help him.

As soon as my fingers brushed the blood, a strange warmth began to spread through my hand, almost as if the very air around us had shifted. To my astonishment, the wound started to heal—slowly at first, then more rapidly, the blood ceasing its flow as the edges of the wound closed themselves. I pulled back, stunned, staring at my hand as if it had betrayed me.

Despite the agony he was in, the boy smiled faintly, a small, knowing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, you’re the one they’ve been looking for . . . ,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

A wave of panic washed over me. “What do you mean? Who’s looking for me?” I asked urgently, my words tumbling out as my heart raced in my chest.

But before I could protest further, the boy stirred, his expression contorting with pain, but he pushed himself up with shaky determination. “Wait! Where are you going?” I cried out, desperate for answers, but he didn’t respond.

He looked back for a brief moment, his gaze lingering on me. “I need to go now. We’ll meet again, Sage. Thank you,” he called softly, his words barely audible above the footsteps growing louder.

With that, he turned and bolted into the shadows, disappearing into the night before I could stop him. I stood there, rooted to the spot, as the sound of his retreating footsteps echoed in my ears.

I stared into the darkness, questions swirling in my mind. Who was he? Why were the guards after him? What did he know? What just happened? My heart raced with confusion and fear gripping me tightly. Why did it feel like this moment—this encounter—wasn’t just random, but something that would change everything?

I returned to the house, my heart pounding. As soon as I stepped inside, Mom’s eyes found me immediately. “Where have you been?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.

“I . . . I just saw someone who needed help,” I mumbled, not knowing how to explain what had happened.

“Theo is looking for you. We thought something happened to you. Next time, don’t go too far,” she said gently, but her tone softened. She sighed, pulling me close. “Come on, Sage. It’s time to go home."

We walked in silence back to our house, the weight of the evening hanging in the air. The sunset’s fading light stretched long shadows over the ground, but it felt like the day’s warmth had been swallowed by the chill creeping into my heart. My thoughts were heavy, swirling with confusion and fear, especially after what had happened with the boy. I didn’t understand it—any of it.

When we reached our house, Mom handed me a small locket she had been holding since we left Aunt Cecilia’s. She looked at me, her expression unreadable, before speaking softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“This locket . . . when the time is right, you should open it,” she said. Her hands trembled as she pressed it into mine, a strange weight in the small, cold object. I wanted to ask what she meant, but the look in her eyes stopped me.

The air was thick with unspoken words, and I felt the growing distance between me and the world I thought I knew.

Later that night, I lay in bed, and the moment my eyes closed, darkness enveloped me. I stood alone in the center of a crumbling village, the air thick with smoke, burning embers floating like ghosts in the sky. The ground beneath me was scorched and cracked as if the earth itself had been torn apart. The heat of the flames was suffocating, yet they danced and raged, consuming everything in their path.

The sky above was no longer blue but a deep, unnatural shade of crimson like the world itself had been stained with blood. The crackling of fire drowned out the distant wail of the wind, but beneath it, I could hear something far more sinister—a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

I tried to move, but my feet felt like they were sinking into the burning soil. Each step was heavier than the last as if something was pulling me back. And then, I heard it.

A whisper—soft, chilling, and familiar. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Don’t run, Sage."

I turned slowly, a cold shiver creeping down my spine. There, standing in the shadows of a crumbling building, was the boy. His face was gaunt, his eyes glowing with a sickly red hue, glowing like burning coals. His skin was pale, too pale as if he had never seen the sun. His hair hung in wild, dark strands around his face, but it was his eyes—those eyes—that terrified me.

They were no longer human.

I wanted to scream, to run, but my body refused to obey. The fear gripping me was too powerful, too overwhelming.

“You . .  You’re not real,” I whispered, my voice trembling, but the boy’s lips curled into a twisted smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. It was a smile filled with hunger, with darkness.

“You’ll only make it worse,” he said, his voice an eerie echo, like the crooning of a wind through dead branches.

I stumbled backward, my hands reaching out, but the air was thick—sticky with heat, and I couldn’t breathe. The ground beneath me cracked open, swallowing the earth with a deafening roar.

The flames surrounding us grew higher, reaching up like hungry claws, threatening to devour me. But it wasn’t the fire that made my skin crawl. It was the boy, his smile, his eyes. They followed me, always a step behind, and no matter how fast I ran, he was always there, lurking in the shadows, his presence suffocating me.

Suddenly, the world shifted. The flames grew darker and more insistent. The boy’s form began to blur, his eyes flickering with a strange, unnatural gleam. A screech echoed through the village—an inhuman sound, the sound of something that shouldn’t exist.

“Someone will die,” the boy whispered, his voice low and guttural. He stepped closer, his feet barely making a sound against the charred ground. His grin grew wider, more malevolent.

“Who? Who will die?” I cried out, desperate for an answer, but the words felt hollow in my chest. The heat grew unbearable, the fire closer, but he didn’t answer. His smile only deepened.

“You are the key, Sage,” he said. “You have no choice. They will come for you.” His voice was a cold, venomous hiss now like the very air had turned toxic.

I could feel my breath falter, my chest tightening with fear. The boy stepped toward me, his figure casting a long, distorted shadow over the village ruins. I tried to back away, but my legs were weak, and my head spun, the world tilting around me. The flames closed in, roaring louder, the crackling flames consuming everything—everything except the boy.

“You . . . you’re not real . . . you’re just a nightmare,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. The words felt meaningless, a desperate attempt to wake myself from the terror that held me captive.

But then, the boy’s lips parted again, and I saw it—the fangs, sharp and gleaming white in the firelight. They gleamed like daggers, glistening with venom, as his face twisted into something monstrous. His eyes flickered with red, and his form seemed to grow, expanding like a shadow-consuming light.

“No,” I gasped, shaking my head. “You’re not real. You’re just . . . just a dream.”

But he wasn’t a dream. He was real. The world around me blurred into chaos, flames devouring the village, the boy stalking me through the smoke and shadows.

He smiled one last time, his grin stretching impossibly wide.

“I told you, Sage . . . you’ll never escape.”

The nightmare twisted further—screams filling the air, buildings crumbling into ashes, the heat burning my lungs. I turned, desperate to flee, but the boy’s voice echoed around me, louder than ever.

“They’re coming for you, Sage,” he whispered, his voice cold as ice. “And you can’t run from what’s coming next.”

I wanted to scream, to wake up, to escape it all, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The heat, the smoke, the boy—it all crushed me from every side.

And then I woke up.

My body jerked awake, my heart racing, the echoes of the boy’s voice still ringing in my ears. Sweat coated my skin, and my chest heaved as I gasped for breath. The room around me was dark and quiet, but the fear, the dread—it was still there, lingering in the air like a heavy fog.

The boy’s words haunted me. Someone will die.

I tried to shake it off, but the nightmare clung to me, suffocating, and my mind raced with unanswered questions.

What did he mean? Who would die? And why did I feel like I was part of something much bigger than I could understand?

Before I could process any more, a sharp knock at the door echoed through the house, pulling me from my thoughts. My heart leapt in my chest.

There was a knock at the door. The sound was sharp, a violent echo that shook the walls of the house. My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind, the boy’s voice, the flames—everything felt like it was crashing down around me. I stayed frozen in place, unable to move.

Mom stood up, her face pale. I could see the dread in her eyes, the way her hands trembled as she reached for the door. But there was something else in her—the weight of years of secrets, of things unspoken, something that made her pause before she opened it. She knew, like I did, that things were no longer just out of control—they were spiralling into chaos.

Another knock. This time louder, more insistent.

The fear in her voice caught me off guard as she spoke, her words trembling. “Stay back, Sage,” she said softly, but I could hear the urgency beneath it. “Don’t come near the door. Whatever happens, stay behind me. Do you understand?"

I nodded, my throat dry, my heart pounding. Fear gripped me, and I couldn’t shake the dread curling in my chest. I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side of that door, but I knew it wasn’t good.

I watched as Mom hesitated for a moment longer, her fingers brushing the door handle. Then, with a swift motion, she opened the door.

The man who staggered inside looked like he had stepped out of a nightmare. His clothes were soaked with blood, the deep red staining his skin like a second skin. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. Behind him, several more men followed, their faces grim and their voices shaky with desperation.

“Reia, treat him!” one of the men cried, his voice breaking as he practically collapsed into the room. “He’s been bitten by a vampire! You have to help him before he dies!”

Another man, his voice cracking under the weight of his panic, cried, “You’re the only one who can heal him! You have to!”

Mom’s face went ashen. I saw her eyes widen in horror, and before she could speak, I knew she was already dreading what she had to say next. She stepped back, her shoulders sagging with defeat.

“I . . . I can’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t have the ability to heal wounds from a vampire.”

The men’s panic turned to fury in an instant. One of them lunged forward, his face twisted in anger. “Liars!” he screamed. “You’re the one who abandoned us! You know you can heal. You’ve left us to suffer!”

I flinched at the venom in his words, but before I could speak, the tension outside our door intensified. Shouts rang out, growing louder by the second. The crowd was gathering—voices rising, angry, accusing. I felt my stomach drop as I heard their words.

"Reia’s the one who abandoned us!" they shouted. "She’s the cause of all this chaos!"

And then, through the crowd, I saw him. Cedric. He was standing at the back, his smile wide, too wide, his eyes gleaming with malice. He was twisting a rose between his fingers, its petals dark and withered, the thorns sharp as daggers.

“Reia,” he called out, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m sure you’ll accept my offer now. You need me, and I need an answer. Now.”

Mom’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. “No,” she said, her voice cold and unwavering. “I won’t accept your offer. I don’t need you.”

Cedric’s smile faltered, and then it twisted into something darker, something colder. “How long will you stay stubborn, Reia? Don’t you see? This is all because of you. They’re all blaming you for the chaos.”

A scream pierced the air—sharp and shrill. “The child! They’re looking for her! Because of her, the village is in flames!”

I turned, my blood running cold. There, at the edge of the crowd, was the old man from earlier. His eyes were burning with hatred as he pointed at me, his face contorted in fury.

“She’s the one!” he howled. “Your cursed child!”

A cold wave of fear washed over me. Mom’s body stiffened in front of me, her arms spread wide, shielding me from their hate. “My child has nothing to do with this!” she shouted, her voice full of defiance. “If you need to blame someone, blame me!”

But it was no use. The crowd surged forward like a wave of destruction, smashing windows, tearing down walls, setting everything on fire. The flames outside were closing in. I could see the light flickering through the cracks in the walls and hear the crackling of the fire as it consumed everything in its path.

Mom turned to me, her eyes filled with raw emotion. “Sage,” she said urgently, her voice trembling, “get the gem from the locket and don’t lose it whatever happens. Run now. Do you understand?”

“But, Mom!” I cried, my voice breaking as I grabbed her arm. “I won’t leave you! I can’t!”

Her face crumpled, and her voice cracked. “Sage, please. You have to survive. Run.”

Tears fell, streaking down her face. I stared at her, my chest tight with fear and helplessness. But in her eyes, I saw the truth. She was telling me to go.

I didn’t want to leave her. I didn’t want to run. But I had no choice.

With one last, desperate look, I turned and fled, my feet pounding against the ground, my heart breaking with each step, knowing that I was leaving everything behind.