Page 20 of The Flesh Remembers
As Eleanor stared at the facsimile of her fiancé, a fleeting scene tugged at the corners of her memory.
The day that James and Eleanor graduated from medical school as full-fledged doctors was the happiest of their lives. They had both worked very hard to get to that moment where their name was called out as doctor. James and Eleanor had been there for one another through all the sleepless nights, stressful exams, headaches, and strained eyes. It was after they had finished the graduation ceremony and were walking back to Eleanor’s house down the quiet tree-lined street with the rows of identical gray townhouses. James grabbed Eleanor’s hand and pulled her to a stop.
“I wanted to say something to you but haven’t found the right time today,” James said, taking her face into his hands. “Perhaps I should wait until another day, but I can’t wait anymore.”
“James, what is it?” Eleanor said, a hint of worry darkening her brow.
“I love you, Eleanor Ashcroft, more than I ever thought it possible to love someone. I think I have loved you since the moment you threatened to gut me with your scalpel in the anatomy lab.”
Eleanor laughed, her hands reaching out and snaking around James’ waist, pulling him closer. “I love you, too,” she said, the words sounding so alien to her, yet at the same time, there was an unmistakable comfort to them. Like a memory long forgotten that suddenly resurfaces, and you wonder how it was you ever could have forgotten it in the first place.
Eleanor’s heart tightened as if in a vice at the sweetness of those first whispered declarations of love that had passed between them not so long ago. And now, he was returning from death, so similar yet so different.
“More voltage,” Dr. Fairfax barked, shaking with authority and panic. The current surged higher, and Eleanor’s body arched involuntarily, caught in the electric storm. Pain and pleasure warred within her, leaving her unsteady and consumed by its raw force. She leaned closer to James, her breath mingling with his as the apparatus pulled her deeper into its grip.
James strained against the restraints, his hands clawing at the air. “Eleanor,” he groaned, his voice low and desperate. “I need... you.”
Heat flared through her, raw and overwhelming. Blackwood’s voice drifted from the shadows, deceptively gentle. “He craves you, Eleanor. Give him what he needs.”
Revulsion flickered briefly but love and desire drowned it. Eleanor leaned down, her lips brushing James’s in a feral and consuming kiss. His response was immediate, his mouth devouring hers with a hunger that bordered on violence. Thespark of the apparatus seemed to pass between them, lighting her nerve endings on fire.
Her hands roamed his chest, feeling the grotesque blend of muscle and decay beneath her fingers. His cold tongue slid against hers, bitter and electric, sending a shudder down her spine. The rods above flared brighter, the electricity crackling like a storm. James moaned into her mouth, his body bucking against hers as though trying to claim her completely.
James gripped a handful of her black silken hair within his death grip. His fingers tinged with rot and decay mercilessly yanked her head back, exposing her throat to him. A grotesque mockery of James’s once gentle smile played upon his cracked lips. He bent his head towards hers and bit the tender white flesh of her throat. The bite did not break the skin, though it did leave a mark on her delicate neck. But Eleanor was beyond caring. The unnatural, obsessive passion that had possessed her previously returned once again, driving out any thought but release. She wanted him, now, as he was. She did not feel horror or revulsion now, just an unbearable lustful hunger that must be fed.
James groaned as his tongue snaked its way up Eleanor’s neck, then back to her mouth. Gone was the sweet gentleness of her lover’s mouth, leaving only the taste of the grave upon her lips. But it did not matter. She had to have him. She had to be one with him again.
James roughly caressed Eleanor’s cheek, his cold, dead hand sending a shiver down her spine, but she arched against him, silently begging him for more. She would have him right here, right now, in front of everyone. It did not matter to her. The unnatural arousal and passion stirring within her would be sated. She felt her body was moving and reacting independently, and she had no control over it now. The pendant at her throat seemed to almost purr in satisfaction, warming her neck with gentle pulses of heat.
James slipped two of his black tipped fingers into Eleanor’s mouth, forcing them against the back of her throat. He held a firm grip around her neck with the other hand. A twisted smile contorted James’s face as he began to roughly move his fingers in and out of Eleanor’s mouth while squeezing her neck ever so slightly tighter and tighter. Eleanor moaned wantonly as she sucked James’s fingers with abandon. She knew somewhere abstractly in her mind that this display was not proper or normal and that she should stop, but those thoughts were gossamer clouds so far away that she could not hold onto them.
When she finally pulled away, panting, she stared at him in horror and fascination. His veins had blackened entirely, snaking across his body like an intricate web of corruption. His nails had lengthened into sharp, claw-like points, and his lips were tinged with an unnatural gray. Yet his eyes burned with predatory intensity, and his smile was sharp, almost cruel. But yet, despite these horrific changes in him, there was the tiny seed of her James still somewhere within him. She could see it in his eyes when she spoke his name. The recognition that the sound of her voice stirred within him.
“You brought me back,” he rasped, his voice a guttural growl. “You’re mine, my Ellie, you belong to me.”
Her body tensed at his words, torn between fear and a twisted need to surrender. “Yes,” she whispered, the word spilling from her lips like a confession. “I’m yours.”
Frye’s voice ripped through the moment, ragged and wild. “This isn’t right! He’s not even human!” he barked, raw desperation clawing at every word. “We got to end this before he tears us all to pieces!
Blackwood stepped forward, his presence a dark force that seemed to consume the room. “No,” he hissed, his voice menacing in its stillness. “We’ve gone too far to stop now. Let her finish.”
Frye lunged for the lever, his hand shaking. “You’ll kill us all! Look at him!”
The laboratory was in chaos. Sparks flew as Frye yanked the lever, cutting the current. James’s body convulsed violently, his eyes rolling back as the spark of life began to drain away. Eleanor screamed, throwing herself against Frye to stop him from ending the session prematurely. “No! You’re killing him!”
“I’m saving us!” Frye shouted, pushing her back.
James’s lips parted, a faint, broken whisper escaping: “Eleanor...” His eyes fluttered shut, and his body went limp once more. Eleanor collapsed onto him, her sobs racking her body as the room descended into uneasy silence.
Blackwood’s voice was venomous, cutting through the stillness. “You robbed us of everything,” he snarled at Frye.
Frye’s glare was unyielding. “You’ll damn us all.”
Eleanor clung to James’s lifeless form, her mind racing. She wouldn’t stop. No matter the cost, she would bring him back. The memory of his touch, kiss, and claim on her body and soul burned within her. This was not the end. It could not be the end.
A pained shudder rattled James’s frame, and a final, convulsive inhalation parted his lips. His eyes fluttered open one last time, meeting Eleanor’s gaze with a mixture of longing and terror. “El… eanor…” he groaned, heartbreak saturating the single word.
In that moment, she yearned to freeze time, let him speak, and hear his pleas or confessions. But the apparatus sputtered, the arcs of electricity collapsing into faint sparks. James’s eyelids sank shut, his head lolling against the dais.A hush stole across the lab as his body went limp once more, a lifeless husk returning to stillness.
