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Caged Bird of Ice Prison

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It was over a month ago, since Pretzel dragged Bloody Mary back to the church, screaming and cursing everything around him. It wasn’t unusual for Bloody Mary, to use anything he could to get out. If he had to be honest, Pretzel got used to it quickly. By this point, he almost expected to have to fight Bloody Mary every time he had gone to the basement. That was why, a wave of panic rushed through him, when Bloody Mary didn’t do anything.

 

At first, Pretzel thought he was asleep, but after he opened the cell, a familiar, aquamarine eyes met his, the alarms in his head started flashing. The vampiric food soul didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, he just closed his eyes again, as a white cloud appeared from his lips. Pretzel stood there, frozen. The air in the basement suddenly felt chilly, despite being quite warm just a moments before.

 

His fear grew when he realized Bloody Mary was shivering. His skin trembled and the torn, bloody dress did little to hide it. In that moment, even without the wig on his head, the pale monster looked just like the maiden he tried to impersonate not too long ago. Helpless, scared and weak.

 

Pretzel didn’t know how long it took him to remember the original purpose of his visit, but he quickly placed the small candle on the table, just a few meters from the cell. Shadows enveloped the figure on the bed, and his body instinctively shook, before recomposing himself as he stepped closer.

 

The shivering was more apparent the closer he was, just as a shaky breaths the vampire was making, and Pretzel couldn’t shake off the faint feeling of anxiety. No matter how cold Bloody Mary ever was, his body rarely showed any signs of it, other than being freezing on touch. Pretzel honestly couldn’t remember the last time he saw the vampire shivering, or showing any kind of genuine weakness.

 

He gently placed the blankets he brought with him on the seemingly sleeping figure, before lowering himself to have a proper look on his face and said:

 

“I told you to cover yourself. Blankets, keep them on this time.” No reply. Despite the shaky breaths, Bloody Mary looked at peace, his eyes closed, lips pale and dry, with his white hair falling across the right side of his face.

 

He took a second to hesitate before his hand moved and brushed the hair from Bloody Mary’s face, his hand freezing in place due to Bloody Mary’s cold skin and the hand that was suddenly placed on his own, holding it in place on the freezing cheek. The world momentarily stopped before his eyes caught the cold aquamarine gaze that was set on him, somewhat surprised, but crystal clear.

 

As softly as he could, he pulled his hand away and quickly exited the room, and felt the gaze slip away, just after the cell has been firmly shut. He took the candle to his hand, still cold from Bloody Mary’s own. He heard his shaky breaths following him on the way back, but didn’t turn to look. Fear in his heart stayed, but a reason behind it unknown to Pretzel.

 


 

Few days later, the uneasy feeling still remained. What was worse, even ordinary people could tell something was wrong, both young and old followers of the lord, that came to the church, stopped to ask him if he was sick, and told him he should lie down.

 

With a kind smile, he assured them he was fine, but if he was not feeling well, he would rest for the day. Some left satisfied, some were still worried, but nobody as worried as Pretzel himself.

 

No matter how he looked at it, Bloody Mary wasn’t well. Tired feeling could be from the lack of blood, but his temperature dropped low, lower than ever, and nothing was helping. Even when he soaked his hands in hot water, it merely made his skin lukewarm for a moment, and Bloody Mary felt nothing, for him, his body stayed as cold as always. And even when he didn’t admit it, Pretzel could see his legs getting wobbly anytime he stood up, and one time, giving up underneath him, sending him falling to the floor so quickly, Pretzel almost didn't catch him in time.

 

With a shaky breath, he kneeled in front of his bed, hands joined together as he started to pray. Pray for the church, for the children, people that needed help, and for Bloody Mary, still locked in the basement, asleep and shivering.