Beth got up and went over to sit on the bed. In a little open-topped box on the bedside table, were a few earrings.
“What’s that?” Caelan asked as she picked it up.
“Box of earrings.”
“Oh, Zeke used to have his ears pierced.”
“Since just before he was seventeen. He took them out about five years ago.”
“He said they weren’t him anymore. He was right I suppose. He wasn’t the aggressive teenager he had been,” Caelan shrugged.
“What was he like before he went to the Dimension?” Beth asked, returned the little box to its place.
“For two years he was just violent. That was it really. I remember coming here once, asking where Zeke was and being told that he was training in the basement with his dad. So I went down, and it was like watching two seasoned warriors battle. He was twelve years old. I swear, my dad wanted to recruit and initiate him then and there.”
He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. It was torn a little bit, and the folds were beginning to rip. It had to be ten years old, at least.
“But he was still Zeke, inside anyway.”
He put the piece of paper away.
“He was different when he came back. Of course, for him it had been twelve years. But he was... broken. I was in here when he came back. I heard a noise from the bathroom so I went over and opened the door. He was just sat there, with that dagger against his palm. On his hands he’s got hundreds of little dots. Hundreds of old scars. Vampires can close wounds without leaving scars by using saliva. It was obvious he did it on purpose.”
“That’s what you meant when you said you found him self-harming?” she asked, looking over at him.
He nodded. “He still does it every now and then, I know he does.”
After a couple of minutes, Beth noticed a huge stack of CDs on the floor across the room. She got up and went over, looking through the pile. Most of it reflected the posters that were up around the walls.
“Metallica?” Beth asked, holding up the album.
Caelan smiled. “I think he has every album of theirs.”
She laughed and went through a little more of the pile and, sure enough, he did. She laughed and chose her favourite album, Kill ‘Em All.
She took out the disc and placed it into the CD player. Selecting track two, she grinned and flopped onto the bed.
“Don’t tell me you like this stuff,” he practically begged her.
“This is my favourite song,” she chuckled at him.
“‘The sound of hooves knock at your door, lock up your wife and children now, it’s time to wield the blade for now you’ve got some company’? Seriously?” he asked.
“It’s about the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Don't judge.”