A Mysterious Drink

“Come in.” He heard a deep but very relaxed voice. He exhaled and turned the knob.

“Father, you were looking for me?” Holding the door ajar and peeking inside, he questioned.

“Yes, child. Come in.” He waved his hand to invite him in. Zadkiel stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He stood by the door.

“Have a seat, Zadkiel.” The bald man in his 60s pointed to the chair across from him. Zadkiel gave a nod, biting his lip and sat across him, a desk separating both of them.

“I heard what happened earlier.” He spoke, standing up. Zadkiel’s eyes lifted to meet his eyes.

“Yes. Unfortunate event. But I’m fine, Father.” Zadkiel murmured, holding the stare.

“Oh, I know you’re fine or you wouldn’t be able to run.” He spoke as he pushed his chair aside and turned around to the shelf behind him. Zadkiel looked at his fidgeting hand, trying to find how to answer that.

“The ball didn’t hit that hard.” Zadkiel tried to sound as convincing as he could but he knew he could never hide from him.

“Did it?” He turned around to look at Zadkiel. Zadkiel stared at him, knowing he knew what he was trying so hard to hide.

“Yes, Father.” He was still persistent in hiding it.

“Then why did you run like that from the ground? Why your voice changed and why your nails were black?” He questioned now walking back to the desk with a bottle and a glass in his hand.

Zadkiel’s mouth ran dry and his hands started shaking. He pressed them on his thighs to avoid the tremor. He gulped visibly as he looked at him with a horrorstruck face.

“I… I just… I…” Zadkiel didn’t know what he could say to hide it now.

“Did you inject it today?” he questioned. Zadkiel’s heart dropped to his feet as his temperature dropped in fear.

“Yes, Father.” He responded, looking down at his sweaty palms.

“What I say about lying?” The man asked, pouring the orange liquid from the bottle into the glass. Zadkiel was sure there was no way out of it and by lying he was only making it hard for himself.

“I’m sorry, Father.” The raven-haired boy mumbled, head still hung low.

“How long it’s been since you’ve taken the last injection?” He further asked, stepping back and opening a drawer.

“It’s been a month.” Zadkiel hesitantly replied, murmuring.

“You have to take the injection daily and you haven’t taken it for a month?!” Now his voice sounded he was a little disappointed and a little furious. He grabbed a tiny bottle out of the drawer. Zadkiel eyed the bottle and few seconds of staring at the bottle confirmed to him what it was.

Zadkiel’s words got stuck in his mouth as he watched the man open the cap of that small bottle and emptied the bottle into the glass in which he previously poured that orange liquid.

“Why didn’t you take the injection, Child?” The man asked as he grabbed a spoon to mix the ingredients he added to the glass. Zadkiel remained silent as he just watched that liquid spiral in the glass.

“Here…” He moved the glass towards Zadkiel who snapped his head up and shook his head.

“Father, no please,” Zadkiel spoke, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Look Zadkiel, you haven’t taken the injection for a month though I told you to take it daily. Now, we have to fix it.” He spoke, again taking his chair and put his clasped hand on the table.

“Father, it hurts.” He cried, shaking his head and refused to drink it.

“To stop you from hurting others, I have to hurt you.” He spoke, pointing his hand to the glass to tell Zadkiel to drink it.

“But it weakens me. It makes my heartbeat so slow. I can hardly get out of bed. I’m in constant pain after it.” Zadkiel spoke, sniffling. The man got up from his seat and walked around the desk. He stood before Zadkiel as he turned his chair.

“That is the goal. To weaken you so you don’t hurt anyone.” He answered, arms folded against the chest.

“But I’ve managed very well in the past month. I controlled myself. I didn’t hurt anyone, Father.” Zadkiel tried to reason but the bald man shook his head.

“You wanted to hurt Luca today. Didn’t you?” The man spoke. Zadkiel looked down, instantly.

“Tell me I’m right.” He further pressed when Zadkiel didn’t answer.

“But I controlled,” Zadkiel mumbled but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“It shouldn’t have reached the point where you had to control yourself.” He spoke sternly.

“B-but that’s who I am. I can’t change who I am, Father.” Zadkiel was now stuttering out of fear.

“Who are you? Tell me? Who are you, Zadkiel?” He questioned, looking at him pointedly. Zadkiel hung his head low because he had no idea.

“Or should I say, what are you?” He continued and Zadkiel couldn’t be more heartbroken by this.

Jane and Hannah knew about Zadkiel’s condition but they only knew what Zadkiel knew but Father Mark Joseph knew way more than anyone. Zadkiel didn’t have any idea how much but he knew a lot and that Zadkiel was sure of.

“I don’t know,” Zadkiel mumbled. His voice cracked and he sniffled to hold back the tears.

Mark grabbed the glass and held it before Zadkiel. Zadkiel lifted his eyes and glanced at him.

“Father, please. This hurts more than injection.” Zadkiel pleaded but his expressions didn’t change. He was still looking sternly at the raven-haired beauty.

“Father, I’ll inject it tomorrow. I promise. Don’t make me drink it.” Zadkiel begged but he just looked at the glass and then back at Zadkiel to tell him to drink it.

“Fath-” Zadkiel was cut short as his stern stare turned into a glare.

“Drink it!” He gritted through his teeth. Zadkiel let out a quiet sob as he reached up to grab the glass with his shaking hands.

“It feels like drinking acid,” Zadkiel murmured as he placed the glass on his bottom lip and gave one more begging look to the heartless man standing before him but his request went down in drain when the man turned and walked back to his seat.

“Drink it.” He ordered Zadkiel as he took his seat.

Zadkiel took a deep breath and exhaled before closing his eyes and gulping down the liquid in the glass. Halfway through the glass he brought it back and screamed as he could feel the burning sensation as the liquid passed down his alimentary canal and even when it settled down in his stomach, he could feel the heat and the burning of his organs.

“Finish it.” The bald man ignored the screams of the poor lad. Zadkiel shook his head crying and coughing. His white shirt was now crimson red from the blood that dripped out of his mouth.

“Please… no,” Zadkiel begged, gasping for air but the man shook his head.

“You’re going to get healed from it quickly. To weaken the demon inside you, you have to drink the full glass.” He commanded Zadkiel who shook his head, crying.

“Father, please.” He sobbed, clutching the stomach as he was feeling his organs were melting inside.

Mark stood up from the chair, furiously walked around the table. He snatched the glass from Zadkiel’s grip and put it down on the desk.

“Look up at me!” He yelled, making Zadkiel instantly look up at him.

“Do you want to hurt others? Do you want to hurt any sister or your friend, or anyone?!” He growled. Zadkiel didn’t answer but shook his head, crying as his eyes shut on their own.

“Answer me!” He asked, angrily. Zadkiel opened his eyes and looked at him with the look that begged a way out of this.

“No,” Zadkiel answered the question.

“Then finish the drink.” He passed the glass back to Zadkiel who nodded. He understood that to control himself he had to drink but he was managing very well for a whole month.

Zadkiel didn’t question further as he gulped down the rest of the drink in his system, throwing the glass on the floor in agony. His back arched on the seat as he screamed in pain. He coughed as more blood dripped down his mouth, making a red path down to his white shirt.

Mark patted his shoulder as he walked back to his seat and sat down. Zadkiel coughed for a while and then completely slumped down the chair, having no energy in him to even move a muscle.

He heard Father’s voice calling Jane to take him back to his bed. He had no stamina in him to even stand up. He felt two hands around his torso. He stood on his feet as he dragged himself to where he was taken to, with the help of the arm around his torso.

Zadkiel was lying in his bed with no energy in his muscles. He didn’t know how much time had passed but he guessed that a lot because students were coming back to their beds.

Zadkiel mustered up enough strength to walk to the bathroom to change his shirt. He groaned in pain when he tried to get up. He wrapped the sheet around himself, grabbed a t-shirt he hung this morning on the headboard to dry as he stumbled to the bathroom.

“Zadkiel?” He heard a voice and turned his head around to look at the person calling him.

“What happened to you?” The boy with chocolate brown quiff asked him. Zadkiel’s mouth was dry so he couldn’t answer him.

“You have blood over your mouth.” The boy sounded concerned but not as much concerned as he must be after looking at the condition of a person having blood all over their mouth because they were used to see Zadkiel like that. They knew all about it.

“I’m fine, Abel,” Zadkiel spoke in a very low voice but the Abel heard him. Though Zadkiel looked far from fine, he let it go and only pitied his condition. He couldn’t do anything for Zadkiel though his heart was aching.

When Abel gave a tight-lipped smile to Zadkiel, Zadkiel turned to walk towards the bathroom, clutching the sheets around him and gripping his shirt tightly. He shut the door, let the sheets pool around his feet and hung the shirt on the towel bar. He stepped forward and balanced himself gripping the sink.

He looked up at his reflection and sighed. That wasn’t a new sight for him. He was used to the blood dripping down his mouth and colouring his shirt in red.

He stepped back and removed his shirt. He had blood patches on his skin as well. He grabbed a wash cloth, soaked it into the water and cleaned the blood, doing all this while leaning against the wall.

He grabbed the shirt threw it over his body and disposed of the dirty washcloth and the shirt in the dustbin. He was so exhausted that he mentally patted himself in the back for accomplishing the task before he exited the bathroom to the big hall in which 30 beds were placed, one of them belonged to him. He approached his bed avoiding any kind of interaction and tried to sleep off most of the exhaustion.

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