Episode - Saint

Dreams and  Memories

The candles lit the room so only the glittering gold could be seen. Crimson tapestries covered the walls, embroidered with intricate designs dancing on the walls. My eyes followed them; the more I focused the more they danced away, mocking me. I kept trying to grasp their pattern as they ran away from their former home, leading me to the mirror in front of me. Though there was no reflection to be seen;  my hands wiped away the blood from my face. I washed away the rest of it for what seemed an eternity. The blood had found its way deep in my skin, under my nails, inside my mind.

“Another perfect sacrifice! You did great, my child.”

Father materialized behind me. His hands on my shoulders.

“They’re defenseless”, those words escaped my lips before I could stop myself.

“Like lambs”, he agreed.

“Lambs we are meant to guide, Father-”

“No. Lambs waiting for the slaughter, and you, my darling, are the butcher.”

I ran into an endless hallway. The paintings on the walls followed me with incriminating eyes. Centuries of knowledge and devotion tainted by the mistakes of one family. For a moment, I felt them trying to reach me. To drag me or to save me, I do not know. Suddenly, my little sister was in my arms. Hugging me; her frail body covered in scars. She wore them with pride; she never knew a life without the pain the corruption of our faith brought us.

She looked up and asked me if I’d be there; to her own sacrifice. My heart broke. I felt my knees hit the floor as I started pleading for her life.

“We can leave together, you do not have to go through with this.”

“Aren’t you happy for me, sister? Father said I’m finally good enough!”

She walked away. Knives stuck to her back, painting wings of blood down her nightgown. My hand reached out for her. Those were my knives.

I woke up, my arm still reaching out for her ghost. My dream left the bitter taste of metal in my mouth, though its details already started fading away. We only mentioned family for a brief moment the other night during our drinking games. But that was enough for my memories to start haunting me again. My heartbeat was quite alarming; I wanted to think the alcohol was to blame. I took a quick look around, hoping my party members wouldn’t notice the tears I was holding back, or the sweat forming like pearls on my forehead. I just needed to reach my medication; everything would be fine once I did.

As it melted away under my tongue, I wondered if the others suffer from their past like I do. The striking image of Cadaver crying came back to me; cuddle by the rest of the crew. His tears seemed to grasp all the light, impossible to look away. He had screamed for an angel in his sleep. I guess we all have one of those to hide. For a moment, I was thankful for my ghostslayer training. I learned to keep my nightmares to myself through the years, ghosts are not quite as forgiving when you wake them so loudly.

I could not bring myself to join the hug; it’s easier to run and make tea. I’ve been trying to be kind to him, but I felt envy. I envied Cadaver. For being charming, and likeable. For wearing his skin with pride. For bringing light in the eyes of the person I cherish the most. And Val is not there to help me. Trying to kiss Gwen, like her first kiss is meant to be so trivial. I’ve never had the chance to share such a moment with someone dear to me. Seducing ghosts is one thing, but the warmth of another soul sharing a tender moment with you… Now that I think of it, I do not believe I’ve ever experienced that myself.

I made my way back to my hammock as the medication slowly left my body heavy. Medicated dreams are usually empty; at least I never remember them. We still have many days on sea until the closest port. I can only pray my god shows mercy; I do not know how many other episodes I can have before I run out of medication. I fear what might happen then…