The Turning of Zachary Degaud (A Witch Hunter Saga Short Story) by Nicole R. Taylor Page B
Authors: Nicole R. Taylor
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wound.
Looking wildly around, he found he was alone except for about eighty-five corpses. Everyone was dead. The Union soldiers who had survived lay haphazardly all around the clearing like they had just been flung there with no regard at all.
The woman he had hallucinated sat at the base of a tree across the clearing, watching him, and he gasped in surprise as his eyes met hers. For the first time he took in her appearance. She wore a plain green dress that billowed around her waist as she sat, her long curly auburn hair falling around her shoulders, drawing his eye to her cleavage. He looked away, conscious of her modesty.
He caught the low sound of her laughter, even at this distance. Pulling himself up, he dragged himself backwards, propping his weary frame against a tree. His heart skipped a beat in surprise as the woman was suddenly beside him. He realized she couldn't have possibly closed that distance in a mere second, it was as if she'd appeared out of thin air.
"Who are you?" he managed to rasp, his throat dry.
The woman smiled at him, smoothing his hair back from his brow. "I'm someone who's going to take care of you." Her voice was soft and musical, her touch reassuring and very real.
His brow furrowed, confused, "Ma'am?"
She laughed again, grasping his arm, "Come, I have a gift for you."
The woman helped him to his feet, but he felt perfectly fine, like that whole day hadn't happened at all. The dark forest around them seemed clearer, the wind through the leaves louder. He felt better than he had in a long time. It didn't make any sense.
She led him to the opposite side of the clearing, where a Union soldier sat against a tree, eyes staring vacantly ahead, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was still alive. "I saved this one for you," the woman said, coaxing the man to stand. "He's the one who shot you."
The soldier was standing rigidly, staring straight through him. Zac waved his hand in front of his eyes, but there was no response. He didn't even blink. His eyes flickered warily to the woman who was now standing behind the man, their heights even. As her eyes changed into two black pools of nothingness she sunk her teeth into the soldiers neck. Zac gasped in horror as she began to drink the mans blood. Pulling back, she smiled wickedly at him, her mouth and chin red with the soldier's life.
It was then that he caught the smell on the air. Somehow he knew it was the scent of fresh blood. It was intoxicating and his mouth tightened as his teeth began to ache. Before he could stop himself he lunged for the soldier, sinking his teeth into the open wound over his jugular. Knowing he should be repulsed at the notion of drinking another mans blood; he drank like he could never get enough. When there was no more, he let the man drop limply to the ground.
The woman smiled at him, seemingly pleased with the result. As he wiped his face with the back of his hand, he doubled over as pain ripped through him. Grasping his chest he fell to the ground as his heart raced, gritting his teeth. The pain was worse than the gunshot by far.
The woman knelt beside him and crooned into his ear, "Don't fear, dear Captain. It will soon pass."
He gazed into her eyes as the pain took him into unconsciousness and he knew no more.
When Zac finally woke, he found himself in a bed, the curtains of the simple room drawn tightly over the windows. Rolling onto his side, he dragged himself to his feet. The room seemed to shimmer around him, every little detail sharper, more defined. Rubbing his eyes didn't seem to change anything. The clarity made his head ache something fierce. Getting up, he walked towards the window and opened one side of the curtain, letting daylight flood into the little room. Suddenly, he jerked back into the corner away from the direct sunlight with a yelp. It was hot; so hot it felt as if it had burnt him.
The bright light seemed to hurt his eyes, his skin tingling. Reaching out
Looking wildly around, he found he was alone except for about eighty-five corpses. Everyone was dead. The Union soldiers who had survived lay haphazardly all around the clearing like they had just been flung there with no regard at all.
The woman he had hallucinated sat at the base of a tree across the clearing, watching him, and he gasped in surprise as his eyes met hers. For the first time he took in her appearance. She wore a plain green dress that billowed around her waist as she sat, her long curly auburn hair falling around her shoulders, drawing his eye to her cleavage. He looked away, conscious of her modesty.
He caught the low sound of her laughter, even at this distance. Pulling himself up, he dragged himself backwards, propping his weary frame against a tree. His heart skipped a beat in surprise as the woman was suddenly beside him. He realized she couldn't have possibly closed that distance in a mere second, it was as if she'd appeared out of thin air.
"Who are you?" he managed to rasp, his throat dry.
The woman smiled at him, smoothing his hair back from his brow. "I'm someone who's going to take care of you." Her voice was soft and musical, her touch reassuring and very real.
His brow furrowed, confused, "Ma'am?"
She laughed again, grasping his arm, "Come, I have a gift for you."
The woman helped him to his feet, but he felt perfectly fine, like that whole day hadn't happened at all. The dark forest around them seemed clearer, the wind through the leaves louder. He felt better than he had in a long time. It didn't make any sense.
She led him to the opposite side of the clearing, where a Union soldier sat against a tree, eyes staring vacantly ahead, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was still alive. "I saved this one for you," the woman said, coaxing the man to stand. "He's the one who shot you."
The soldier was standing rigidly, staring straight through him. Zac waved his hand in front of his eyes, but there was no response. He didn't even blink. His eyes flickered warily to the woman who was now standing behind the man, their heights even. As her eyes changed into two black pools of nothingness she sunk her teeth into the soldiers neck. Zac gasped in horror as she began to drink the mans blood. Pulling back, she smiled wickedly at him, her mouth and chin red with the soldier's life.
It was then that he caught the smell on the air. Somehow he knew it was the scent of fresh blood. It was intoxicating and his mouth tightened as his teeth began to ache. Before he could stop himself he lunged for the soldier, sinking his teeth into the open wound over his jugular. Knowing he should be repulsed at the notion of drinking another mans blood; he drank like he could never get enough. When there was no more, he let the man drop limply to the ground.
The woman smiled at him, seemingly pleased with the result. As he wiped his face with the back of his hand, he doubled over as pain ripped through him. Grasping his chest he fell to the ground as his heart raced, gritting his teeth. The pain was worse than the gunshot by far.
The woman knelt beside him and crooned into his ear, "Don't fear, dear Captain. It will soon pass."
He gazed into her eyes as the pain took him into unconsciousness and he knew no more.
When Zac finally woke, he found himself in a bed, the curtains of the simple room drawn tightly over the windows. Rolling onto his side, he dragged himself to his feet. The room seemed to shimmer around him, every little detail sharper, more defined. Rubbing his eyes didn't seem to change anything. The clarity made his head ache something fierce. Getting up, he walked towards the window and opened one side of the curtain, letting daylight flood into the little room. Suddenly, he jerked back into the corner away from the direct sunlight with a yelp. It was hot; so hot it felt as if it had burnt him.
The bright light seemed to hurt his eyes, his skin tingling. Reaching out
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