ELIAS

Stepping out of the shower, the grim from weeks of living wherever Elias could lay his head had now washed off him under the hot water, replaced with the fresh artificial smell of watermelons and strawberries which seemed to be a decent combo. Rubbing the towel over his head he dries himself off before tucking the towel around his body. Peeking around the corner Elias quickly returns to the room catching a glimpse of Iverain as he stood at the counter. Two women in nicely dressed 1980s fur coats stand on the other side talking to him in almost hushed whispers. Like gossiping pigeons twitling around for any morsel of bread.

        Slipping into the room Elias freezes one sentence low and breathy catching his attention.

        “What about the Seer?“

        ‘Seer?’

        Elias leans back against the door, swirling thoughts prickling his brain like needles. He had only ever been called Seer, maybe once or twice from his recollection. The first time was by a Doctor after his accident, and the last by an older couple working The Blue Bird café before its untimely move. Thinking back, he never asked his mother what the word meant, he really should have now that he’s thinking about it.

Drying himself off he pulls on some clean boxers before pulling on the green button-up, the fabric lined with swirls of vine leaves, the cuffs with dark brass leaf cufflinks. Pulling on the black dress pants, he fixes them over a pair of green socks. Striding towards the closet he opens with a tug, the wood creaking at the hinges as he ducks down, his fingers grabbing the backs of the pair of leather-bound shoes Iverain thought would match.

        Slipping them on Elias taps his foot against the hardwood making sure the shoes fit. Swiping up his pack before making his way out of the room. Leaning over the banister a bit Elias spots Iverain near the front door pushing books back into place.

        “Whatcha doing?” Elias pushes off the banister walking towards the stairs.

        “Organizing.” Iverain responds backing up from the shelf and walking towards the front desk. “The attire suits you.” He murmurs as he grabs another book off the counter.

        Elias stops behind the counter dropping his pack onto the floor as he grabbed one of the books Iverain left behind, shifting it between his left to his right he looks at the spine sliding his fingers over the old-leathered words.

        “So, when do you want me to start?” Elias walked around the counter as Iverain snatched the book from his hands. A low hum leaving his throat as he walks over to one of the shelves, the third one down from where the counter sat Elias watches him slot the book back into place.

        “Tomorrow. It’s not to busy on Wednesday’s so it will be opportune time to teach you the basics.” Iverain explains as he walks passed and back around the counter where he motions for Elias to step over. Elias does so with a confused look on his face.

        Stepping over, the iron bell above the front door rang out. Turning his head back, a tall woman stepped in, long silk robes covered about ninety percent of ivory porcelain skin, the click of her heels tapping against the hardwood. Stepping closer Elias can now see the colors of her kimono a splash of blues, dull reds, and black. Her face hidden by a black veil as she stopped a few feet in front of the counter. Even though her eyes were hidden the feeling of them boring into Elias became present.

        “Angela.” Iverain spoke calmly but something danced across his tone, anger if Elias knew any better.

        “Iverain…” Angela spoke her voice sounding light, barely above a whisper. “Elias.” She breathes.

        Elias takes his eyes off the woman to whisper to Iverain, only to have cold porcelain gripping his face wrenching his eyes back to the woman. Her head tilted slightly, now that Elias could get a better look at her it’s obvious that the face before him was just what he thought, a stark clear porcelain dolls face, painted red lips, dark voids for eyes. He couldn’t even see the whites in them as he tried to look at Iverain.

        “How?” The question was simple but utterly confusing as the woman slid back her grip dropping. Like a puppet cut from its strings.

        “Angela, its best you don’t touch him again.” Iverain spoke his eyes watching her closely, one hand meeting Elias’ lower back. “Go back to your room.”

        Elias nodded slowly his eyes shifting between Iverain and the woman Angela before quickly sliding his feet back. As soon as he was at the stairs he bolted up them. Only stopping when a chill rolled down his spine and the world around him began to swim. Taking a shaky breath he all but falls into the room with a loud thud, his glasses pinching his face as it became harder to breathe.

        Nails dug into Elias’ shoulders as he hugs himself tightly, his knees moving to his chest as he squeezes his eyes shut. Gasping like a fish out of water until he could hear his heartbeat in his eardrums.

Gasping Elias shot upright, his eyes dancing about the room, tears pricking his eyes, heat dancing across his face, lifting his shaking hands he runs his dry palms over his face.

        “What the hell…” He mumbles taking his glasses off and lay back against the hardwood of the floor only to have a pillow under his head. Grasping it, he sits back up. “When?” He puts his glasses back on seeing that his bed that had barely been touched until now was a mess as though someone or something had tried to pull the covers off and towards him. But they only got to a certain point before getting frustrated and dragging the pillow alone instead.

        Pushing up to his feet the world around him shifts slightly, his hand shoots forward to grab the wall for balance. The curse leaves his lips as he staggers towards the bed. His legs buckle as he hits the plush sheets.

        “Goddamn…” He grumbles.

        “Elias?” Iverain’s voice drifts from the open door before he makes an appearance. “Is every”— He pauses a worried look crossing his face before being dropped for his usual stoic expression. “What happened?”

        “If I could tell you I would.” He retorts. “Feels like I just got hit by an eight-wheeler.”

        “Interesting.” Iverain walks over, placing a cold hand to Elias’ forehead making a tired groan leave his lips. “You’re burning up.” He mumbles. “When did this start?”

        “I don’t know… when did that weird doll lady show up?”

        “Angela.” Iverain lets out a sigh before moving from the bed. “I’ll be right back; I may have something downstairs to help break this.”

        “Break it, it’s just a fever. It’ll break sooner or later.” Elias grumbles as he pulls the blanket over himself or would be, if his arms didn’t feel like lead and his vision wasn’t so blurry.

        Iverain either from pity or frustration pulls the blanket out from under Elias before tucking him in.

        “Don’t move.”

        “Wasn’t counting on it…” Elias mumbled the heat seeming to get worse with every passing second his body felt clammy, his head pounding like nails being driven in. Closing his eyes he pulls the blanket up over his head slowly.

        “Elias”— Iverain’s voice comes out muffled as he pulls the blanket from Elias’ face. The room is now dark, besides a desk lamp that wasn’t there before. Iverain places a lukewarm towel on Elias’ forehead. “I need you to drink this, could you sit up for me.”

        Elias grumbles looking at Iverain through blurry eyes. “What?”

        “I need you to drink this.” Iverain repeated, seemingly hiding whatever he had in his left hand.

        “If its one of those potion things… no thanks.” Elias closed his eyes, the last thing he heard as darkness took his vision was a low growl. Before something cold touched his lips. Elias’ eyes shot open as fingers gripping his jaw hinging his mouth open. Elias can make out the soft golden orbs in the darkness before the hand pushed his mouth closed. Elias’ eyes narrowed at Iverain before fingers clasped his nose shut, forcing him to swallow. The taste was metallic, the stench like dried mints made Elias want to gag it right back up as the hands pulled away.

Gasping Elias coughs roughly near dry heaving as Iverain gets up from where he had been sitting. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Elias shouted his voice dry as the nausea feeling hit him again.

        “It’s for your own good Elias.” Iverain retorts placing the bottle on the desk. “You’ll feel a little tired but it’s just the medicine taking affect.” He continues, moving back to the bed and pushing Elias’ back onto his back. Fixing the lukewarm rag on his forehead. The entire time Elias’ heart hammered against his chest. Blurry vision watching Iverain walk towards the door. “You will thank me tomorrow.” He finished. But as Elias’ body started to drift his final act of defiance came in a soft hiss.

        “Fuck… you…”