Black Blood

I look at Novak in total bewilderment. This cannot be true. I refuse to believe he just said that. Tears slide down my cheeks as I stand rooted to the spot. His words hurt, are hard.

Somehow, I don’t blame him for his anger. He had nothing to do with this in the first place. I am the reason that his life is in danger and he is wanted. He is allowed to be angry. But I know better. His anger comes so out of the blue that there must be more behind it.

In silence I start to follow him. The tears don’t stop, the guilt grows. Slowly the forest darkens, the sign that the sun is setting. My feet hurt. Novak had not put any shoes in the bag, so I am forced to walk barefoot. My sight is fixed on the grass.

‘Fuck,’ is the sound of Novak’s voice. Immediately I look up, which I immediately regret. In front of us, a man is hanging in a tree, at least two metres off the ground. His neck is wrapped by a branch and is the only thing keeping him off the ground. The branch moves, wrapping itself tighter around the man’s neck. The man’s skin is white, muscle white with a tinge of blue. He wears old grey trousers full of holes and stains. His shirt is just as dirty as his trousers, just as tattered. The shirt is grey but stained red with blood.

That is not even the most gruesome thing about it. Another branch has made its way through his chest via his back. The front of the branch pushes itself further through his chest, wrapping itself around his side. The blood runs down his legs through the wound and drips onto the ground. The skin of the wound is swollen and the sight is terrible. The man’s eyes are closed. I assume the man is dead, but it soon becomes clear to me that I am wrong.

‘H...H-el...p m...e,’ sounds a hoarse, gasping voice. My heart is pounding in my throat. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things, but this should be high on the list. I take a step back, not knowing what to do. Part of me wants to look away, but I can’t. I look at Novak. My gaze goes to Novak. He stands rigidly beside me. His eyes are red, his posture static.

‘We have to do something,’ I say breathlessly. I don’t know what, but we can’t leave this man to his fate.

‘No,’ Novak answers firmly. I look at him in surprise.

‘What do you mean no? If we do nothing he will die,’ I say indignantly. Novak turns to me, looks at me with irritation.

‘He’s already dead, can’t you see? There’s nothing more we can do for him,’ he says in a hardened voice. My gaze goes to the choking man. He is still gasping for breath, he is still alive. I’m not going to let someone else die when I could have done something.

‘If you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself.’ With these words, I start walking towards the man without a plan. I have to break the branches somehow. I do not have much time left. The man is getting bluer and the branch tighter.

‘No, you don’t.’ As soon as I am a metre away from the man, Novak grabs me and presses me against his chest. Immediately I try to push him away from me, to get his arms off my waist.

‘Let go of me,’ I shout as I start to beat his chest. I don’t get it, I don’t get why Novak is behaving like this. He must see that the man will die if we don’t do something. I am desperate, punching and kicking around me in an attempt to get loose. Novak is many times stronger than me so I don’t stand a chance. He doesn’t move a muscle.

‘Look,’ Novak says as he grabs my chin and forces me to look at the choking man. I stand still, knowing I can’t get loose anyway. The tears start running down my cheeks again. I want to turn my head away from the horrible sight, but Novak won’t let me.

The branch moves tighter around the man’s neck. The man tries to free himself from the branch by moving his arms and legs in the air. That only causes the branch to tear his skin further in his chest. The wound gets bigger, more blood runs down. His breathing begins to make a wheezing noise.

‘Let me go,’ I try again, this time in a whisper. Novak says nothing, don’t let me go. I don’t want to see this. The man’s lips turn blue, the squeaking tone softens. Tears stream down my cheeks. I am nauseous and dizzy. I close my eyes and do not open them until the squeaking stops. Novak finally lets go of me. The man hangs motionless in the tree, he is dead.

For a moment I stand still in the grass, looking at the dead man. Slowly the realisation dawns. The man is dead, Novak has stopped me from doing anything, held me against my will and forced me to look at a dying man. My disbelief and sadness are replaced by pure anger. I look at Novak who has set his eyes on the corpse.

Before he can see it coming, I hit his cheek as hard as I can. He flinches, grabs his red cheek and looks at me in disbelief.

‘I hate you,’ I spit at him. I feel my eyes colouring and take advantage of it. The next moment Novak lands with a loud bang against a tree. This is the first time I have used my magic in his presence. He lands in the grass, groaning in pain. I’m so pulled away by my anger that I throw Novak against another tree with a gust of wind.

‘Celeste stop,’ he groans as he tries to get up. Once more he is thrown against a tree.

‘Celeste.’ Again against a tree. I’m so angry I’m blinded by rage. I can’t think anymore, can’t stop. I’ve long lost count of how many trees Novak has had. He keeps moaning and begging me to stop. After the umpteenth blow against a tree, I wait for him to get up, but he does not. He remains lying motionless on the ground.

He remains motionless on the ground.