Two Voices

Gillian pushed open the swinging doors and stumbled one foot in front of the other into the saloon. His eyes sitting like boulders on top of his pounding forehead, his feet sweating in the heat off the morning. He eyed the second stool at the end of the bar and sat down. He couldn’t remember what happened last night. All he knew for sure is that she was gone. Why did she leave? What did he do? He tried to piece together the events from the night before. There was screaming, flashes of deep red hair, and the wall his fist had punched an eight inch size hole into. His hand, now covered with bruises and old blood from the wound, ached and was in dire need bandaging.

“Whiskey…a bottle.” He said, struggling to put just three words together.

“Are you sure G? You don’t look so good. What happened last night?” The bartender asked, staring at the tall hunched figure.

“I’m fine Sam, just a drink.” Gillian said.

Sam grabbed the bottle of whisky off the shelf and poured a drink for the ranch hand. Gillian pounded the first drink and then eagerly poured several more.

Gillian scanned the room for the stand-up piano that sat next to his table in the back corner of the room. The walls of the saloon had been boarded up in several places. The tornado last season had sent an oak tree falling onto the south side of the building, leaving just a few spare boards to patch it up. He grabbed the bottle and glass and shuffled toward the table.

He kicked out a chair and began his task of finishing the entire bottle. He envisioned her eyes. They were golden, light brown with almost a fiery red that matched her hair. Why did she leave him? She always said she didn’t like how much he drank. Maybe that’s what happened.

Familiar voices faded and new ones appeared.

“G…Gillian!” Came a voice that sounded a lot like Sams. “Come on let’s get you to a bed. I’ll let you sleep upstairs tonight.”

“Night? But it’s morning.” Gillian said, hoisting himself to his feet.

“No G, you passed out. Come on, Ma would have hated to see you like this. Let’s get you up stairs. I can give you a room for tonight, on the house.”

All of Gillian’s six foot two hundred and twenty-five pounds leaned against his shorter but sturdier brother. The two hobbled to the stairs, while the now boisterous saloon livened with busy conversation and loud intoxicated travelers.

As the two made their way up the spiraled staircase, the crowded noise broke with the sound of a sparkling guitar that floated over the room. Gillian’s head turned to see healed boots, a glimmering red skirt and dark midnight hair. Blood drained from his face and fear tightened in his chest as the strumming puffed to the tall rafted ceilings. The room grew quiet. There in the front of the room stood a woman. Dripping with shiny sequenced linens and a stunning head piece, every head turned raptured by her commanding presence. Her eyes met his, sending chills resonating over his body.

The silence broke with a deafening cheer from the crowd. The latin music echoed through the room as the merriment woke the patrons to another round of drinks and singing. Light hearted cowherds toasted another round at the bar and a group of laymen from the north side of town emptied their pockets, signaling for the glittering woman to keep playing. Her shimmering dress rustled and spun, twisting and turning with every strum of her guitar.

Shook to sobriety, Gillian surveyed the room. The woman’s music mesmerized the crowd. They sung and danced; magically captured by the sound. Each strum changed the mood to a merriment that possessed everyone but him. He seemed to be the only one who wasn’t completely engrossed in the revelry. Even Sam was enraptured with her music, forgetting the care of his brother to join in the clapping and dancing. He could feel his palms begin to sweat and breath grow heavy.

Gillian felt a familiar feeling of dread in his chest. Flashing memories clouded his mind, but the pounding in his chest made him believe the fear recent. He felt the music cascade through his body, entrapping his thoughts. He shook his head and scanned the room for an exit.

He shoved his way through the dancing crowd, inching his way over toward the doors. Then, startled by a piercing gaze, he looked up. There she was, the woman’s face, staring right at him. Her golden eyes slit into his like shards of ice, pulling him like a lured animal into her body.

She was exquisite. Her rose colored cheeks matched her perfect pink lips. Her hair was rugged, long and wrapped around her like a mysterious veil.

“Dance.” She said.

Before the answer of “No” could surface to his lips, somehow his body flung magnetic into hers. Terror filled his heart as he jumped and spun, wrapping both arms around her slender waist. Panic rose inside him as he realized she was controlling his every move. He fought to remove his hands, but nothing he did could move them.

The crowd was now dancing and spinning around them. The festivities which at first seemed harmless, were quickly getting out of hand. The excitement was causing some of the men to shoot pistols in the air in wild hysteria. Two of the five ceiling lamps had been shot through, creating shadows on the west side of the room.

His mind frantic, he anxiously rehearsed the events of the past few moments. The music, it all started with the music.

He glanced over at the guitar that was somehow being played by a farmer behind them. He felt for the knife banded to his left for-arm. As the woman spun him faster, he slowly inched the knife to the edge of his sleeve. Their spinning took them around the room with a boisterous crowd dancing right behind them. Gillian slid his knife to the edge of his palm. The woman moved him faster, spinning them to the right and left. The room blurred. His eyes anxiously scanned the room for the guitar. He knew he was close. The strumming rose louder and he could make out a cloud of stillness to their left. He forced his eyes shut. Chaos and noise clamored for control of his senses. Uniting all his focus, Gillian opened his eyes and searched for the guitarist. He waited till the woman spun him to the right. He aimed the knife at the guitarist’s hand. The knife flew through the air, hitting its mark.

The music stopped. The crowd fell lifeless to the ground.

Gillian opened his eyes, finding himself lying in an amongst bodies, scattered like unmanned puppets throughout the saloon. He didn’t know if they were dead or alive, but the control of his arms and legs was slowly beginning to return. Gillian look up and found the swinging doors at the front of the saloon. Now able to control his feet, he hurriedly stumbled over to the exit.

The woman, now standing in the middle of the room, fixed her arrow like gaze on the back of his head. Fear paralyzing him, he grabbed onto the swinging doors to push himself through and on to the street. The woman stood still. Opening her mouth, she began to sing. Her voice echoed through the room’s four walls like a masterful symphony. Gillian noticed himself turn, his body pulling him toward the intoxicating sound. Her notes climbed higher and showered him like a fresh drink of water. Her voice saturated his brain with pleasure. He lingered toward her, his mouth dripping to hear another enchanted note.

He walked drunkenly toward the voice, his mind fading with every step. He was only half way there when the lifeless bodies scattered across the saloon jolted him to reality. Were they dead? He shook himself. His mind struggled to focus. Her song grew stronger, louder. With every note, her voice powered over his thoughts, driving him to lust in pure insanity. He searched again for the doors. He shook himself and forced his legs forward to run. The click of her boots echoed as she slowly paced toward him.

He made one final effort to pull himself through the doors to escape. Panting, he look out into the darkness and in a moment, caught a glimpse of a familiar flash of red hair.

“Eliza?” Gillian could make out a slender frame running from the north side of the street. The moon causing bits of blue to bounce light from what looked like a dress. Within seconds, Eliza’s eyes met his.

“Eliza! Run!”

“Gillian!”

Eliza ran, almost inhuman like across the street, and up the walkway toward the saloon.

Before he could shout out another warning, Gillian collapsed. The woman stood behind him, her voice commanding his body. Her voice, once pleasureful and enticing, now turned, exacting spasms of pain to radiated through him like poison. Hands shaking, he wrapped his hands over his ears. Her voice grew stronger. He could feel her luring presence just as he did with the dance. His throat tighten, choking any chance of a second warning.

Then, out of the darkness came another song. Gillian felt himself release his hands from his ears. Breathing freely, he could feel the pain in his legs subside and the tension leave his head. His muscles relaxed, strengthening with every note. The sound drew him, but willingly. His mind sharpened and his eyes searched for the owner of the voice. His head turned up to see Eliza pacing slowly toward them.

“Eliza?”

Eliza’s red hair had turned from a dull and muddy red to a deep shining fire. Her eyes shone, bursting with golden light. Her voice soared higher and stronger than the other. Her voice sounded through the air like a thousand melodies playing in perfect harmony. Each note swept through the atmosphere, lifting the fog like a warm mid-morning sun. It was graceful yet strong, peaceful yet intensifying.

Gillian breathed slowly. Her song delightfully rang through his body. It’s eloquence creating a music so gentle that, every note seemed to satisfy and calm his chaotic mind. Her song drew him. She sang with a perfection above anything he had ever known.

Their eyes met again. Her face encoded into his body, igniting him completely. Now strong enough, he pulled himself away onto the curb.

The dark haired woman stopped and fixed her gaze intently on Eliza. The woman’s enraged eyes grew wide and her once perfect lips erupted with two one-inch fangs. Her boots and dress were gone and her skin was now covered with dusty brown scales that were sequenced in diamond shapes around her body.

“Fantrisa. The is my hunt.” The creature said, hunching herself forward in perfect position to attack.

Eliza stared down at the creature, trilling out several moaning notes.

“Let him go.”

The woman creature hissed, glaring back at Eliza, answering with her own low screeching notes. The sound chilled Gillian’s heart, suffocating him once more. He could feel her hissing voice move inside him. The creature darted toward Eliza, flinging her body in the air, fangs open and now revealing a rattler like tongue.

Eliza crouched low, moving forward to attack. Revealing her cat like appearance, she charged forward meeting the venomous creature in the air. The two wrestled tumbling out toward the street. The creature coiled her limbs around Eliza’s body in an attempt to crush her chest. Eliza’s smaller but stronger frame clawed at her extending fangs. The creature opened its mouth and bit into Eliza’s paws causing them to go limp. The creature venomously inched herself tighter around Eliza’s body. Then with a ferocious roar, Eliza looked up. She once again opened her mouth and began to sing. The song, unlike the previous, reared like a sword, a pitch which seemed as familiar to her as an old warrior who had perfected their skill.

The creature froze, uncoiling herself from around Eliza’s body. The woman creature let out a loud and painful scream. Her limbs crippled and folded into her. Eliza’s song grew louder and the music seemed to steal the color from the creature’s body, turning her an ever paling white.

The creature continued to shriek in pain, corroding until all that was left was dust.

The woman was gone.

Eliza’s voice strong and solid, stopped.

Eliza ran toward Gillian who sat out of breath, leaning out against the building, his mind ambushed with the events that had just taken place. Her now human frame hovered over his body and her arms intently wrapped around his shoulders.

Her eyes filled with tears. “Gillian, you’re alive. I thought they’d killed you.”

“My head, it’s killing me.” Gillian looked up into Eliza’s gentle but strong eyes. “Who are you?”

Eliza pulled away and sat silent. “I couldn’t tell you. I…I wanted to. I just wanted us to be happy. I wanted to live a normal life.” Eliza straightened herself. “I am a Fantrisa, a siren of light. Sirens aren’t suppose to get close to humans, but then I…met you.”

Gillian hung his head, weighted with the events that had just taken place. “Who was she?”

“That was a Castaniva, a desert siren. They use music to hunt and lure their prey. I’m glad I got to you in time. ”

“But, why did her song not take me?”

“Once you’ve heard a song, it does not hold the same strength as it did before.”

His mind overwhelmed and exhaustion still crippling his limps, Gillian stood cautiously to his feet and leaned against the saloon. Using Eliza’s shoulder for support, the two hobbled through the doors.

The lifeless crowd began to stir and one by one stood to their feet. Soon the saloon cleared, leaving Eliza and Gillian sitting silent at the table while the dusk of the morning cast a dull light on the table in front of them.

Gillian couldn’t help but recall the woman before him as the person he had grown to love. Memories of their life together satiated his nerves, but the sting of reality made him realize she was not the Eliza he knew.

“Why did you leave?” He said, staring mournfully past her face at the bar stools.

Eliza sat, her eyes fixed on Gillian’s strong jawline and handsome dark hair.

“I didn’t leave you. We have had our fights, but I didn’t leave you. They came that night, a pack of the Castaniva. They stormed into the house, looking for me. They didn’t count on you being there. They grabbed me and I screamed to protect you. They took your mind. You tried to hit me, but ended up punching a wall instead. They took me. I eventually managed to free myself and that’s when I…came running to find you.”

Gillian hung his head, staring down at the floor boards below him. Was it still her? He looked up into her soft freckled face. He reached for her hand, peering at each line and imperfection that he had grown to know and love.

“Your song… it’s perfect. Would you sing to me?”

“Yes.”