Part 1: Denial - Episode 16

There Elias sat; his bleached blond hair glistened a brilliant gold in the warm light of the sun peeking lovingly through the windows. There were only three, to which Elias thought a unique choice for design. He disliked odd numbers, a breathy hybrid between a giggle and scoff escaped Elias’ lips, which, weirdly so, also glistened in the sun as he tapped his lip gloss quietly with his nail. 

“Elias!” An exasperated call echoed from the kitchen. “Come here. Take this outside,” Lloyd murmured as Elias entered the kitchen, shrugging a bag off his shoulder and shoving a bucket in his general direction. “Kay.” Elias sighed in indignation, the metal of the bucket–half filled with water–reflected a scattered beam of sunlight filtering through the frosted kitchen windows.
Elias held the bucket tightly as he creaked the front door open, leaving it slightly ajar. Out of anxiousness, his cold fingers reached for his bandage gently wrapping around his collarbone. Elias tugged at the rim of his hoodie. 

It had been a moment of dragging his feet along the dewy grass before Elias came to a subtle halt at a grove of trees, next to another grove. After kicking over the bucket, the water quietly trickled out, catching the reflection of light piercing through the canopy. Elias bent down to pick up the bucket, and yet he left it, drawn to the grove of trees a few metres to his right.

A battered cross–a grave,he thought, stood alone and askew, the scratched print read ‘Abel Garcia,’ vibrant moss crawled over it. An abnormal purple glow was being emitted by the ground, slithering up the aged trees. Reaching down, Elias’ fingertips brushed the cross for a brief moment. “Eh..?” He breathed. He staggered slightly as dizziness unexpectedly crept up on him, but he steadied himself, straightening the cross. 

The sincere purple of the forest around him buzzed in thick silence, Elias stood up straight, a series of cracks in his back sounded deafening in the woods. Stepping away from the grave, Elias’ knee felt weak, only for a moment. He yawned, running his fingers through his hair. 

Shouldering the door open, as it was left ajar, that same creak prickled through his ears, Elias’ headache almost splitting his head in two. Stepping into the cabin, a singular floorboard squeeled loudly. Elias’ head spun, he collapsed.

William turned a quarter way to Elias as he entered, flinching as he fell. His stomach dropped, a wrenching worry snuck its way through his chest as he eased out of his arm chair, the feeling of his wound ached dully. “What–” William breathed, shaking Elias’ shoulder, “--wake up.” William shook with more violence, even though Elias would not wake up. “Lloyd!” William exclaimed, even if he was in a partially dazed half-panic, his voice still managed to seem flat. “What? Don’t yell at me! What do you…” Lloyd trailed of as his eyes travelled to the scene on the ground. “What happened?”
“He collapsed, not sure,” William murmured. “Pick him up then,” Lloyd ordered. “C’mon, I’ll help you.” 

Lloyd swore a curse under his breath, a rambled phrase in Swedish was whispered, to which William recognised, but not enough to decipher. “Come on,” he groaned. William shook his head briefly, helping Lloyd lift Elias onto William’s bed. “He’ll stay there for now, no fuckin’ way we’ll get him up there.” Lloyd gestured to Elias’ top bunk with a nod of his head. 

Disappearing back into the kitchen, Lloyd left William to watch over Elias. His breathing remained steady, William’s eyes followed the gentle up and down of his chest intently. William stood for a moment–exhaling, he slumped in his arm chair. The morning was slow, occasional twitters of birds, followed by gentle but chipper chirps echoed around the cabin.

. . .

The steady sound of oil fizzling from the kitchen made its way to Elias and William’s room. Elias stirred–just for a moment–groaning. “What..” he managed, his eyelids were as heavy as boulders, the blinding light infiltrated his brilliant eyes, hazed by tiredness. He could not move, his arms were asleep, the most he could manage was to roll over. It had taken a moment, but Elias slowly came to a realisation. The strong smell of wood and fresh nature lingered on William’s sheets, mixing harmoniously with Elias’ sweet scent. William’s scent was strong. Enjoyable. 

Too tired to open his eyes again, Elias allowed them to close, but he did not fall asleep. The dull ache of his legs and splitting headache pulsed painfully through his body.
Elias tried to sit up, but his breath fell short, shallow. A choking cough escaped his throat, drawing William’s attention. At his failed attempt to sit upright, Elias fell back onto the bed, yet again engulfed by William’s scent. Sliding Crime and Punishment across the bedside table, William turned to Elias, studying him for a brief moment. “Are you okay?” William queried apathetically, as if he didn’t care. Because he didn’t. “...Water,” Elias coughed, barely opening his eyes for them to settle on William’s silhouette as he turned to the kitchen.

After his long awaited return, gently enough, William placed a glass on the nightstand. Half empty. Entering, Lloyd glanced nonchalantly at the pair, “You’re awake.” Lloyd stopped, looking at Elias. “How are you feeling?” He asked, not breaking his gaze. Elias croaked, his eyes falling shut once again. “Not great. Okay,” Lloyd whispered.

Letting out an audible sigh, William slumped back into his armchair. The leather reflected what warm, dim light there was in the cabin. Throwing a distasteful look of.. pity? William’s eyes closed too. It was late. The sun had set.

. . .

William awoke to the unflattering sound of a discombobulated bird slamming against a rickety window of the cabin. The sun had risen. Inhaling sharply, William stood up for a shower. Allowing the heavy bathroom door to close behind him, blindly locking it, William turned on the shower. The clattering of the hot water against the aged tiles dragged Elias from his dreamless slumber. “Hh..” Elias coughed once, turning over.

It had been at least ten minutes, William fell back into his chair, his hair was damp. Waiting a moment, William got up, leaving for the kitchen, glancing back to Elias’ sleeping figure once more, his lips forming a straight line.
William sat at the kitchen table. It was round, small, and wooden. Tapping it lightly with his fingertips, almost as if he were waiting for something. 

How much time had passed? Hours? Now the sun had set. Elias chuckled to himself just as he woke up, rolling over, uncontrollably plunging into another deep sleep. At least his headache… wasn’t as bad.

. . .

Elias exclaimed slightly as he jolted awake. His exclamation, while muted, still managed to wake William. “Shush,” William spat. Oddly energised, Elias let out a hearty laugh. “Shit, sorry–” Elias smiled, “--I’m in your bed, you’d want this–”
“It’s fine. Stay there,” William shrugged, averting his gaze. “How are you?” Elias began. “Fine,” William whispered in response. 

“I’m going to go shower, it’s been, like, two days,” Elias coughed, to which William simply nodded, picking up his book.

William watched as Elias returned with a bounce in his step. “You’re energetic. You were asleep all of yesterday.” In turn, Elias came to a halt, “Yeah, but I just feel so strong today. And energetic!” Beaming.

. . .

“And you’re sure you’re better?” Lloyd queried with skepticism in his tone. “Sure. I’m better!” Elias nodded confidently. “That was weirdly quick. You could barely open your eyes for two days, and now you’re saying you feel stronger than ever. Okay.” Lloyd shrugged.

Pushing the door open, with William in pursuit, Elias jumped down the stairs. Making a start down the path, it was trodden on, even and well-worn by this time. It always had been, William recalled Lloyd mentioning it. The first time Lloyd came, following this path… all those years ago.

“Oh, what the fuck.”

William looked up in curiosity as he heard Elias’ slightly panicked remark. What the fuck indeed. There stood Thy Bad Habits. Its claws dug into the soft ground, leaving six of many, many, many other plethoras of claw marks in the forest. 

Elias was immediately knocked to the ground by Thy Bad Habits, the wind crawling out of his lungs in desperation. Thy Bad Habits’ eye flickered, rippled with a thick darkness as it looked up at William, knocking him to the ground. Dazed, William swore, looking up at Elias, who was unfazed, uppercutting… wait—uppercutting Thy Bad Habits?! “The fuck are you on about, Elias?!” Startled, Thy Bad Habits thrashed for a moment, enough for Elias to scratch at it with his dagger. Thy Bad Habits’ buzzing increased, as if it were a TV or radio, stark and scratching for signal. Elias cursed as a thin line of blood, a shallow, thin scratch ran down his arm. Arising from the mud in desperation, William pushed Elias to the ground, “Play dead,”--Elias let out a feared yell as William said that, closing his eyes. Going limp next to William.

Noticeably, the buzzing subsided, like a radio. Desperately holding onto the signal it finally found. And yet, the buzzing was still there. It almost always was. 

A minute had passed, at the least, as Thy Bad Habits turned on its heels to leave to its abode. Chuckling as he sat up, Elias remarked, “I punched it! How’d I do that?” Offering a hand to William, hesitantly, William took it, nodding vaguely at Elias in thanks. “That was fucking terrifying–” A rustle in the evergreen took the pair by surprise, the two whipping around immediately. “What was that?” William spat.
“What.. was that..?”