The Wait Upun Death

[Mrs Gey]

photosensitivity: allergy to the sun.



Candie looked at her mother through the hospital window, the one which

she was trapped behind. She sat within the white room, her hands laid

snuggily in her lap. The window looked at a mirror to Candie, though she

knew it was window, a one-way mirror.

"Candie, we're not here to hurt you," a voice spoke from an unseen

speaker.

Those words only made Candie glare at the mirror, almost seeing the

people behind the tinted glass flinch.

Candie mom put her hand to the glass, her eyes showing longing to hold

her daughter.

"Dont touch the glass Mrs. Grandwell, she's stronger then we imagined," a

man in a long, white trench coat said, touching her shoulder. The man was

suddenly flown backwards, as though an invisible hand had swept him

away like a peice of trash. The others flocked around him.

"What was that," a woman exclaimed, touching the man's forehead.

"Candie," Mrs. Grandwell whispered, taking her hand off of the glass. The

electric spark disappeared from the air.

"No one touches this glass, she can use that contact to use her powers

outside of that room," growled the man in the trench coat, rubbing his

shoulder that he had fallen on.

Candie now had a little grin on her face that sent little trickles of fear

through the doctors, though her mother knew the little grin was just

Candie saying that she was smarter then the doctors were. She had

figured it out before them.

Mrs. Grandwell looked at her daughter, whom had been brought to this

horrid place by no one other then her father, Randel Grandwell.

As though summoned by thought, Randel walked into the floor, keeping his

eyes from Mrs. Grandwell in the corner.

"Maranda, dont look at me like that," Randel growled, turning towards his

wife.

"Randel, you son of a-" she broke off, a thought coming to her head. She

pretended to burst into tears, pressing her hand to the glass.

Candie looked up slightly, her bark-colored hair falling around her pale

face. Her blue, almost white eyes, stared through the glass, catching

Randel's eyes with her own. Randel's face went a purple-ish blue, and he

fell to the ground, the lights flickering as though there was an earthquake

within the bulbs.

The doctors, unknown to what was happening, scrambled around like

paniced ants. Maranda took her hand off the glass as a shudder went

through Randel's body. A doctor, a young woman, rushed forward,

checking Randel's pulse. Her face paled.

"He's dead," she whispered.

The man in the coat looked at Maranda, trying to see through her, to see

whether or not she was worth keeping alive.

"Why is that, even if your daughter kills your husband, you still want to

stand by her side? Aren't you afriad that she'll kill you?" The man's name

tag told Maranda his name was Chris Montag.

"Well, Dr. Montag, Candie is my daughter. I've cared for her for more then

16 years, and even before that, I let her grow within me. She is mine," she

paused and pulled a shaky breath.

"A mother is a god in the eyes of her child," a chilly, shrill voice spoke with

too much wisdom for a 16 year-old should have. Chris spun and looked at

Candie, not sure if he had heard her speak or not. When Chris locked eyes

with Candie, she smiled, surprisingly sweet, yet mocking.

"Candie is very special to me Dr. Montag. She isn't a monster as everyone

thinks she is. She isn't a child either." Maranda's voice shook and her chest

heaved with all the emotion in her voice.

Chris sighed and closed his eyes. This girl, of only 16, had killed a grown

man, without even touching him! She was far too pale, as though she'd

never so much as touched the sunlight, yet she was as healthy as a grown

athlete.

Chris took Maranda's arm in his hand and led her to a door, almost unseen

to the other newcomers. The other doctors were taking Randel out of the

room, his body seeming too heavy for just a few people. Everyone wanted

to get away from the small, pale, creepy girl.

Chris opened the door and gestured for Maranda to go first. Once she was

in, Chris walked in after her, closing the door behind them. Maranda sat in

front of Candie, though not touching her. Chris did the same, though about

a foot from her, compared to Maranda's two inches.

Candie smirked at Chris. This little action, however, sent shivers down

Chris' spine.

"You know, Chris, to have me in this hospital is probably a bad thing. I'm

not very good with sickness and," she winced, "death."

Maranda reached over and almost laid her hand on Candie's knee, but

Candie was up and at the other side of the room before Maranda could.

Candie ran her hands through her hair, sitting on her hunches. Her almost

white eye looked at Chris behind her hands.

"You shouldn't think of my as a monster Doctor. I'm just different from

your children," Candie said, her voice muffled from her hands. Chris

tensed.

"How did you know about my sons," he asked. They had both died six

years ago, in a terrible car accident.

Candie took her hands off her face and stood up straight.

"Well, I didn't." Her posture told another story.

"Don't lie to me," he growled.

"Doctor, please dont," Maranda seemed to beg.

"George and Sam had both died in this very hospital, did they not?"

Candie's voice was now cold and distant, as though she wanted to hurt the

doctor.

Dr. Montag was on his feet and across the room before Candie could react,

her throat held within the folds of his hands.

"How. Did. You. Know. About. Them." His voice was constricted and tense,

like his body. Tears were threatening to break free of their prison, just

above the folds of skin around his eyes. One broke free and free-fell,

landing on the concrete floor in a splat.

And electric rush went through the room and Chris was forced backwards

once again, only not as harsh. It was as though Candie was pushing

against him and he was being pushed back, only that her hands were

resting by her sides. Chris released Candie and the force disappeared.

"If you really, truely want to know, then simply ask me again, and I will

show you. But, what I see day in and day out is not what you see and is

simply too much for someone as simple as yourself to comprehend."

Candie didn't even seem bothered that Chris had just threatened to

strangle her, instead she seemed disappointed that he hadn't.

Her words made Chris Montag, a doctor that had saved hundreds of lives

in his 28 years of being a doctor, and had seen almost as many people die

by his hand, hesitate childishly.

Before he could speak his answer however, Maranda interrupted.

"Candie is special little soul. Dr. Montag, you must understand, she's never

been like a child should be. She's never been able to go out into the sun,

because she has photosensitivity, I'm sure you know what it means. And

what she's about to show you, it's frightened off a lot of people, so she's

never had any friends, and no one has ever loved her, other then I,"

Maranda's words shook Chris like a ragdoll might be shaken.

"Photosensitivity, Sensitivity or responsiveness to light. Better known as

allergy to the sun or other ultraviolet light," Chris took a deep breathe,

trying to imagine what that would be like, not being able to go out into the

sun.

"So, that's why you're so pale," Chris said, almost touching Candie's pale

arm. She shifted so he wouldn't.

"Do you want to know, or not?" Candie's voice seemed to beg Chris to say

yes, as though she wanted to share her secret behind her powers, if that's

what they really were.

Chris paused, thinking. The words left him in a whoosh.

"Yes, I do."  

[Mrs Gey]

Medium: A person that can see or communicate with the "other side"

Candie took Chris' face in her hands, ever so gently. Maranda

stood up and leaned against a wall, wincing and waiting for something that

Chris didn't know about.

Candie seemed to relax dramatically, her shoulders slouched and her face

smoothed.

Chris looked around them and his heart quickened. Standing around him

were about 11 or 12 people, not including Maranda, who he could just see

the outline of. The people, now he could see there were 13 of them, 6

men, 7 woman, were all muttering, or just standing there, a deafening

hum gathering from them.

Chris yelped as Candie made him look at her, her nails digging into the

sides of his face. Her seemingly white eyes were now a dark blue, almost

black.

He was about to make a comment about her eyes and the fact that her

skin seemed like it was on fire, when he realized he couldn't talk, like his

vocal cords were gone, or never there in the beginning.

"This is the world through my eyes," Candie said, her voice just a clear as

Chris remembered it to be.

Chris looked around again, the people, if you could call them that, were all

grey, their skin a rotting, moist color. Their eyes are white, bottomless

pits, unseeing. Their mouths were stretched open, in a frozen, unheard

scream. Some twitched, but they all stood still and in one place.

It was now that Chris looked at the walls and floor of the once white room.

The floor and walls were splattered with red, as though no one had cleaned

them of the spilled blood that had been in here. There had been 13 people,

in the 160 years that this hospital has been standing, that had killed

themselves in this room. Chris realized these beings were those people.

The blood that they had spilt had never been cleaned in their world.

Everything rushed back to normal, the people fading like smoke, the walls

washing to bleached white, Candie's eyes turning to a pale, almost white,

blue.

Chris fell to his knees, gasping for air, his head pounding and hands

shaking. Candie herself took several steps away from the doctor.

"How do you see that?" Chris' voice was just as shaky as his hands were.

"I dont know. I just do. But while you guys think I have mental powers or

whatever, it's really those beings being control by me. I can speak to

them, I can see them, I can hear them, but I can't touch them. That was

them being good, as nice as they get. You just dont want to deal with them

when they're mad. Whenever someone touchs me without my consult,

they get angry. Then they can touch the living, able to push them back, or

do whatever they wish. They could kill you if they wanted." As Candie

spoke, her eyes trailed things no one else could see. Chris knew she was

watching the people.

"Why can't I speak, while you can?" Chris asked this, chills running up his

body.

"Because I'm used to it, and I'm on the border line constantly."

Maranda walked over to Chris, lifting him to his feet.

"We should leave Candie alone for a bit. It's been awile since she's ever

done that," Maranda spoke as though frightened, taking Chris out of the

room.

Candie sat down the moment the door closed and she began muttering to

herself, though both adults knew she was talking to the dead.

"What is she doing?" The doctor watched the girl sympathetically.

"Trying to calm them. They dont like the fact that you've been able to see

them. They fear you just as much as you fear them."

Those words sunk in. The dead, these trapped spirits, were frightened of

him?

"She is their Keeper. She takes care of them, sending them to whereever

they need to go. She sometimes just talks to them. They enjoy being

talked to sometimes. They all know her. She is alive, yet dead. She's with

them, yet with the living. In return for helping her, they listen to her, do as

she says without question," she paused, stroking the glass for just a

second, Candie looked up, "When someone touchs the glass, they can

travel through that life source and come out here, do as she tells them.

But when someone lets go of the glass, they get sucked back into the

room."

Chris looked at Candie. She went back to muttering to herself.

"How did she know about Sam and George," Chris asked after watching

Candie.

"She probably saw them coming in. There's so many people in this

hospital, they all try and talk to her at once, sometimes however one or

two of them shout and get heard over everyone else. Your sons probably

told her about them, and when she saw what your name was, she realized

those two were your sons."

Chris nodded, numb.

Candie began nodding and speaking louder, though Chris nor Maranda

could hear her.

Candie got up quickly and walked to the door, hauling it open without a

word to her mother or the doctor as they stood there, shocked, as she left

the room. The electric charge in the room disappeared as she left the

room.

"What was that about?" Chris' words sounded as confused as Maranda

looked.

Chris jumped when the smoke of gasoline and blood filled his senses. He

ran out of the room and upstairs, Marnada close behind. In the hallway

was Candie, blood splattered on her clothing and skin. Bodies and limbs

were scattered around. Candie's eyes were blank and emotionless as she

looked around her, her eyes landing on Chris.

Before he could even stop himself, Chris launched forward, wrpping his

arms around Candie, the force of dozens of hands pulling on him the

moment his skin touched hers.

Instantly the walls and floor changed from white and red to black and red,

fire dancing at the walls and dozens of people surrounding Chris were

pulling on him, the air filled with screaming, dead and alive.

"Candie!" His voice was strong, reaching Candie's ears. Her eyes were that

dark blue, almost black. What she looked like to the dead. She turned her

eyes to Chris. The look alone almost made Chris back off, let go of her.

But he kept strong, gripping her arms. Her eyes were cold and hard, like

onyx. Her skin was cold to the touch, compared to the too-hot touch before.

"Chris, what are you doing here?" Her voice was as cold as her eyes.

"What are you doing?! Killing people? Why?" He roared over the screams

and fire.

"It's what I must! I do this, so maybe one day, I'll be able to go in peace,"

her words struck Chris like a cannon to the gut.

"What are you talking about? Is that if you kill so many people, these

spirits will leave you be?"

"No. I mean, if I kill enough people, The Kept, a powerful soul that rules

over all of these souls and the living, will come for me. All living beings

had a thread, that when they die, gets severed. I'm waiting for my own to

get severed."

"So, your doing this, to die?" Chris didn't need a spoken answer. The look

in Candie's eyes said it all.

The people around Chris had stopped pulling on him once Candie had

spoken to him.

Now, they all seemed to go crazy, running all around the hospital, running

through the living that wanted to escape the death. When they did,

however, go through the living, they dropped to the floor, dead. So, when

the dead touch the living, the living dies.

The gasoline Chris had smelled wafted into his consiousness again, and as

he let go of Candie, fire roared to life all around him, the smell of burning

flesh and paint hitting him strongly.

Chris dragged Candie away, his hand clamped on her arm, though what

she saw didn't greet him like twice before. When he reached where

Maranda had been standing, he was met with a burned corpse, the fire had

began behind her, instantly catching her within it's clutches.

Chris helped Candie out, the smoke clogging his lungs.

When he hit the grass, he was ready to pass out, the sky black from

smoke above him. Candie was coughing next to him. Chris laid out on the

grass, Candie on her knees, no longer muttering or looking around. She

turned to him, still on her knees, and Chris could see tears streaking her

face.

"Why didn't you leave me in there?!" She pounded her fists on Chris'

chest, though they were weak attemps.

"I'm not going to let you die Candie. You showed me your secret,

something you dont show just anyone, and even though you killed all

those people, I couldn't just let you die. I care for you as much as I did my

sons now."

"Why?! I deserve to die! I want to die!" Candie pounded her fists on Chris'

chest again, sobbing into his chest.

"No one deserves to die Candie." That was all Chris said. He got to his feet

and helped Candie to hers. He led her to his car, hidden from the flashing

lights that were just beginning to light the air. The sirens were enough to

drive anyone crazy.

"Where are we going," Candie asked when they were both in Chris' car.

"Away."