George woke up after two, maybe three hours of sleep. The events yesterday triggered his nightmares again. He woke up panting and sweating, the scenes of war and carnage still vivid in his eyes. If he closed them, he could also hear the roars of battle and the clashing of swords and smell the rusty smell of blood and acrid smoke that made his stomach roil. He got out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. He retched into the sink but nothing except bile came up. Shoulders heaving he turned on the tap to wash his face and rinse the sour taste of bile out.
He looked at himself in the dim light; his normally bronze face was pale, he was drenched in sweat and water, and his scar was throbbing. He gained his immortality through blood and war. In the many years he was alive before he came to Sanctuary, he had moved from country to country, from one battlefield to another. He had no other skill than to spill the blood of his enemies. But he never hated those people; the person he served would tell him that he needed to kill those that opposed and he did. That was all he was: a mindless, cold, killing machine.
Stripping, he stepped into the shower, hoping that the cold water would revive him and wash his sins away. They never did, of course; he lived with this burden, just like the guilt of hurting Ciel, every day. Resting his head against the wall under the ice cold water, he took a deep breath – and cried. He didn’t know what he cried for but he hadn’t cried in centuries. Not when he watched the kingdoms he served fall, not when he saw the pain and suffering of people because of war, famine or plague, not even when Master Gin spared his life and offered him sanctuary. He didn’t seem to have an attachment to anything, not people, not places, not even his own life.
Perhaps it was because of Sanctuary… the usually peaceful, calming place he’d called home for the last fifty years had dulled his battle senses, bringing him back to life. The sudden nightmares of his past made him remember that he was a dark, bloody sinner, breaching his defences and opened the floodgates. Whatever the reason, besides his shivering body and wet eyes masked by the cold water from above, there was no sound or movement in the lonely bathroom. He could never be washed clean, he knew. The dead could tell no tales but they could not forgive either. There was only one survivor of his killing sprees; and when those pale blue eyes looked at him in fear, he knew that salvation would not come anytime soon.
After a while, he turned off the tap. Drying himself, he stepped out of the bathroom and changed into a fitted black T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans; the form fitting clothes defining his broad shoulders, slim waist and long legs clearly. Since he still had time before he went on duty, he might as well get something to eat and do his laundry. Grabbing his hamper full of clothes, he headed to the communal laundry.
“Morning, George” a voice called him.
“You’re up early.” George looked at Gawain. The man had a stern and imposing air around him, while still looking noble and aristocratic. However, it could not be denied that he was good at what he did. Most of those that worked in security had battle experience; Master Gin could choose the best there was, after all.
“No, you’re up early. I was just relieved of duty. I’m tossing in a load before I go to sleep.” The other man said, yawning.
“I’ll see you later then.” George said and Gawain raised his hand in acknowledgement, as he walked away. Back to the task at hand, he tossed his clothes into an empty machine, added the detergent and started it; there was no need to sort his laundry because he only ever wore dark colours. He recalled when he first came here, he didn’t even know what this was; there were so many things that were new to him, especially the machines. Fridge, microwave, vacuum, the TV… after a while he got used to them and you could say he was dependant on some of these conveniences. But not the TV though; he could never disengage himself enough to enjoy the brainless entertainment from the idiot box. Nor could he sit still long enough to endure an episode of any show. He’d rather be in the gym sparring with the other security personnel or even exploring the modern human world during his time off. That reminded him, he hadn’t taken his time off in a while.
Job done, he went to the kitchen-cum-dining room to get something eat. The ingredients in the fridge could be used by anyone who wanted and staff were expected to be responsible for the cleanliness of all the communal areas. After all, the cleaning staff needed days off too. If anyone had anything that they were reluctant to share or would not be well received by the others, they all had a mini bar in their rooms for that. Considering the very diverse backgrounds most of the staff had, the adage ‘one man’s meat another man’s poison’ could be taken literally. So aside from neutral ingredients and common spices, exotic ‘foodstuff’ were kept in the staffs’ individual rooms to prevent offending or poisoning others.
Putting several slices of bread into the toaster, George heated a frying pan before tossing a few sausages and breaking two eggs into it. While waiting for it to cook, he poured himself a cup of coffee. Sipping it black, he plated his toast and slid the contents of his pan onto the same plate. Grabbing both the mug and plate, he went to sit at the dining table. He was the only one there since he missed the morning shift and the night shift were either about to sleep or already asleep. He didn’t mind; he didn’t really feel like having company right now, even if he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts either. So he ate in silence, quickly finishing his meal. After cleaning up the kitchen, he went back to the laundry room.
His laundry now dry, he sorted his clothes before folding or ironing them. Then packing everything neatly into his hamper, he went back to his room to put everything away. He had a few more hours before he was supposed to be on duty but he had a feeling that Master Gin would be here early to discuss yesterday’s incident. Besides, he didn’t really feel like doing anything, not even the mind numbing training at the gym which was his usual routine.
He was emotionally drained and felt a bone numbing weariness that would make a normal person want to stay in bed for the rest of the day. But he was a soldier for far too long; you did your duty – kill the enemy in front of you, step over his body and kill the next one. There was no room for doubt or any other emotions because they would kill you. Even if you needed to vent, it would be after the battle, when things had settled. He’d seen it all, drinking, women, carousing, fighting with one another. Those soldiers on the battlefield needed to release all that pent up aggression or they would go crazy. And it was those that did not partake in such revelry that made him alert. Those that would quietly go home to bed after casually running a sword through another man like butchering an animal and still be eager to go to the battlefield the next day; those were the ones that hid a deeper darkness and were far more dangerous than a wounded animal. After the wars, when they no longer had a righteous reason to kill, then they would slowly go insane and be the bogeymen that spread terror in the lands.
George had been afraid; afraid that he would end up like these dark monsters in human skin, afraid of losing his humanity. So after a while, he had shunned wars and battles; trying to avoid human contact altogether; but he was too late by then. His scar would always be a reminder of that time when he was nothing but an animal.
Picking out another suit, George changed and tidied up before leaving his room to go downstairs. He found Master Gin and the twins deep in discussion with Fionn, the security leader for the morning shift at the staff lounge.
“Morning, the twins were just updating us on yesterday’s situation.” Fionn cheerfully greeted George.
“Good Morning. Did Gawain report any abnormalities?” George recalled that the man did not say anything when he bumped into him this morning so he was more or less reassured that nothing had happened. When he sat down, he frowned slightly.
“No. But since the twins said that the barrier looks flimsy, we should strengthen it again. In the meantime, I propose the security staff patrol every hour in pairs” Fionn responded.
“I agree on the patrols, but this will probably be taxing for all of you.” Master Gin sighed.
“Then what about if we inform all visiting guests that they have to inform us of their arrival if they want to come from the barrier? That way security staff can wait for them there instead. Then we can do a patrol every three or four hours instead.” Fionn suggested.
“That could work, it’s just temporary after all. In the meantime I’ve ordered more energy crystals. It should arrive in a few days. Then we can power up the barrier again. But without Dawn, I’m going to need to do it in sections,” Master Gin said.
“We can help, father.” Blanc volunteered.
“Even with the both of you, we can only strengthen two or three sections at a time. Well, we’ll discuss this further when the crystals arrive. Meeting adjourned. Go see if your mother is here. I’m expecting a guest.” Master Gin ordered and the twins left.
Master Gin and Fionn were about to get up and follow when George, who had been silently listening without contributing the whole time raised his hand, halting the two of them. As they looked at him curiously, he pointed without saying anything, his eyes never leaving a certain spot. After a while, two tiny little spiders came scuttling out from behind a potted plant before escaping under the door.
