Authors: Megan J. Parker
Missus Miller bit her lip, “Dear, your blood-pressure.”
“Blood-pressure?” Tiff scoffed, “Dad doesn’t have any health problems, short of being clinically
insane
! What’s with you people? Do you just get high every morning and make up what character from The Jeffersons you want to be?”
“Listen to me, you little bitch! The mistakes your father and I made in the past will
pale
in comparison to the one you’re making right now! Now you
will
shut your nigger-loving mouth and sit the fuck down or I will do what I should’ve done sixteen years and
end
you!”
Tiffany narrowed her eyes, “You use the N-word around me again, and I’ll show you how
real
badasses roll in this century. And if you think that I—or
any
of us—are going to stick around in this house with a delusional druggie and his gaping anal-whore of a trophy wife, then you must
really
be high.”
“Son of a—” Mister Miller stared at the empty front yard, shaking his head. “Doesn’t make any sense! I was certain I heard—”
Another knock. This time from the back patio.
“The
backyard
?” Mister Miller heaved, “These assholes are starting to get on my last fucking nerve!
Now
their trespassing!”
Mister Miller continued to mumble as he stormed across the hall and disappeared into the living room—his irate rant, though muffled, still audible—as he worked his way towards the back of the house. “—and if I catch that little bastard sneaking any more of the pulled pork during his shift, I’m going to cut his—HOLY SHIT!”
The rest of the Miller family—with the exception of a very startled Grandma—jumped away from the table as the sound of something crashing through the sliding back door thundered throughout the house.
“Oh my—D-dad?” Tiff, despite their heated argument, was the first to start towards the sound.
“To hell with this!” Missus Miller shook her head, already bolting for the front door. “It’s not worth it to die for this shit!”
“Mommy?” Mary’s eyes were already welling with tears as she watched her mother running away.
Missus Miller yanked open the door, already preparing to sprint for her new life, and fell back in an effort to distance herself from the creature occupying the front porch.
“Pardon the intrusion, madam, but do you have a moment to discuss our dark lord and master, Satan?”
Tiffany turned, hurrying back to her brother and sister at the sound of their mother’s terrified cries, and fell back at the sight of what had just stepped inside:
The creature, forced to duck under the door frame, must have been about eight feet tall. It stood, seeming somewhat unbalanced—perhaps drunk?—over their mother, looking around at the rest of them before kicking the door shut. As she got a better look at the intruder’s legs, she saw that he was wearing some sort of alligator or synthetic lizard-like pants that, when coupled with his humongous reptile-replica boots, gave the appearance that he had dinosaur legs. None of this, however, seemed too strange as she took in the rest of the sight. Twin trails of dark blood followed him; the first coming from his left arm, which, though there was some sort of growth that somewhat resembled a little arm jutting from the center, looked to have been freshly severed. The second trail of blood, one that Tiffany was content
not
learning any more about, seemed to be coming from the intruder’s backside. His face—if it could even be called that—looked like something from a horror movie. A bunch of bony horns sticking out from the top of his head above a dark-red, leering face with burning eyes and a wide, jagged sneer; all of which was tattooed—or engraved?—with pale-yellow designs that looked like claw-marks carved into the skin.
And as though the entire vision wasn’t enough of a nightmare on its own, he had a woman—an unconscious, nearly naked blonde—tucked under his one good arm.
“Jesus Christ…” Tiffany gaped.
“Not quite, doll,” the intruder offered, “But we get mixed up all the time.”
The Miller kids ran, sweat and tears pouring down their faces, until they couldn’t bring their bodies to run any further. They’d easily put three miles between themselves and their home—no, not theirs; not anymore; not by any stretch of the imagination—and they still had a few miles left before they reached their uncle’s house.
“Do you really think Uncle Howard is going to let us stay with him?” Jeremy asked, still breathing heavily from their sprint.
Tiffany, now carrying a whimpering and very tired Mary on her shoulders, shook her head. “I don’t know; I hope so. He seemed pretty annoyed by Mom and Dad’s bullshit the last time we visited, so I’m sure he’ll understand why we finally had to leave.”
“Wh-what was that thing?” Mary sobbed.
“Looked like one of the bad guys in my friend’s fighting game.” Jeremy offered. “Maybe he was some kind of psychotic cosplayer or something.”
“Yea… maybe,” Tiffany mumbled, not believing it. Something in the things he’d said; the way he moved.
Their mother hadn’t lasted too long. As soon as the intruder had gotten a quick look around he’d dropped the naked woman he’d come in with and snatched up their mother, taking her by the throat in his one arm and stabbing her through the back on the coat rack, leaving her shrieking and flailing in an effort to free herself.
“Stay there, darling,” the intruder had laughed, stepping past her. “I left your husband in the living room underneath your grill. You prefer medium or medium-rare?”
Grandma had finally gotten to her feet by that point, though she, like Tiffany, didn’t seem to know what good that was going to do any of them.
With the intruder in the living room, Tiffany had hoped to help her mother down, but found the task of lifting her bodyweight enough to ease her off the slight incline of the coat rack’s jutting hook proved too difficult. In her effort to get her thrashing mother down, the coat rack had tipped and sent the two toppling over. Tiffany had hit the floor hard enough to numb her elbow and twist her ankle, but her mother—almost six inches taller while stuck to the rack—slammed into the front door, the fake crystal doorknob breaking against the force of her forehead and spilling a torrent of blood down on Tiffany, who screamed as her dead-eyed mother crashed to the floor in front of her.
“God-fucking-dammit!” the intruder had roared from the living room, where a series of grunts and metallic squeals were emanating. “You bitches better not be dyking it out in there! I’m pretty sure mother-daughter incest is still a taboo in this day-and-age.”
Their father’s body, what was left of it, had flown into the hall at that moment—moving like it had been shot from a cannon—and slammed into the wall by the door, rolling onto their mother. He hadn’t been dead, not just then, at least, and through what remained of his mouth he’d rambled about the golden years of black tar and Osbourne and complained that he didn’t want to be remembered that way.
Fighting to distance herself from the horror, Tiffany had caught sight of her father’s severed arm protruding from the shredded remains of his work pants, and she fought to keep from vomiting as she took her brother and sister’s hands in each of her own.
She’d told them that they had to run.
She’d told them that the crazy man would hurt them—
kill
them—if they stayed.
She’d told them that she was sorry for not speaking up for them sooner; for always acting like a dumb bitch and wasting her time talking like the cast of Jersey Shore.
She’d told them that she loved them, and that she’d make sure that they’d be okay.
And she’d meant it.
They’d left Grandma behind, not that the crazy intruder gave them much choice when, as they bolted out through the shattered back door, they’d spotted him dragging the old woman to the floor where he’d begun ripping her skin off.
Then they’d ran; the lingering words of their murderous intruder pushing them every step for three miles:
“Run along now, kiddies. Tell the world that the devil stole your house.”
“Was that man really the devil?” Mary whimpered after a long silence.
Tiffany shook her head, patting her sister’s leg. “No, Mary, that wasn’t the devil. That was just a crazy person. And he
did
give us a reason to finally leave.” She gave Jeremy a gentle nudge, “Now you can get that girlfriend you so desperately need.”
Her brother smiled at that, though he was still clearly pretty shaken from everything he’d seen. Looking over at her, he caught sight of her hand and frowned, “You’re bleeding.”
Tiffany looked at her palm and caught sight of the fresh blood. Confused, she began looking for a source and, in doing so, caught sight of a trail of blood running down Mary’s leg.
Tearing up, their little sister confessed to her habit—much to the shock the two of them, who only saw it as more evidence that they’d needed to get away from that house—and that she hadn’t meant to go so deep.
When she was finished, Mary looked—on top of the already hefty emotional burden that morning had put on the three of them—nervous that her brother and sister might judge her in much the same way her classmates did.
“Firstly,” Tiff held up her pointer finger, “this needs to stop. I’ll help get you a counselor to talk to, but you’ve gotta promise us that you’ll never do this again.”
Whimpering, Mary agreed.
“Secondly,” Tiff added her middle finger to the already extended pointer, “I’m going to teach you how to throw a punch.”
“To throw a punch?” Mary asked.
“Mmhm,” Tiff nodded, “So the next time one of those little shits wants to tease you, you know how to knock them right on their ass. But all of this is going to cost you.”
Mary flinched. “It is? H-how much?”
Tiff smirked, “You gotta agree to not make fun of Jeremy too much when you skip a few grades and wind up in the same class as him.”
SERENA COULD BARELY LIFT HER EYELIDS AS
she pressed herself against the bathroom’s tile floor. She couldn’t handle much more and she could no longer hide her fear from Maledictus. The cold tile helped numb the pain she as feeling and she pressed against it more as she let the tears flow.
How much more could she take before breaking?
She needed Zane.
She needed Zoey.
She needed everyone that she had always taken for granted.
She bit her lip, silently promising to change her ways if she got out of this. She whimpered as her stomach began to cramp and she folded over, the intensity of her hunger sending a tremor through her body.
Serena?
She looked up at the voice.
It couldn’t be!
Zoey?
She responded through her auric abilities.
Serena!
Is it really you? Oh thank—I’ve been scrambling about the astral plane for what feels like
years
!
How? I mean
, you’re back at the clan, aren’t you?
Serena bit her lip.
I am…I’
m unconscious, I think. Something… something must’ve done a number on me, because I can’t find my way back to my body.
Serena looked up as Zoey appeared in a ghostly wisp
, and she smiled softly at the sight. Zoey’s concerned eyes looked her over at the state she was in.
Serena…you
’re so thin! Have you been eating?
I haven’t…
Serena frowned,
He tried to give me rats, but I kept refusing them and eventually the offerings stopped.
Well, i
f he does it again, put your pride to rest and
take
it, Serena! We need you to live!
Zoey shook her head,
We all need you. Zane needs you!
I know, it’s just so hard, Zoey…
Serena looked down as the tears began to fall.
She didn’t have the strength to stop them from coming. She didn’t think she could if she wanted to anyway, they were the only release she had of any emotions.
Serena, we’ll be there soon…
Zoey’s voice began to fade.
I promise. I’ll find a way back to my body and we’ll find you!
Zoey? Zoe!
Please, no! Don’t leave me!
Serena whimpered, holding out her hand.
Please!
Hold on, Serena…
Zoey smiled warmly,
you are surviving for two now.
Serena gasped, waking up again on the cold floor. Biting her lip, she pressed her hand to her stomach.
S-surviving… for
two
?
Zoey’s eyes widened as she sat up, gasping in air as the fog began to clear from her mind. She was just talking with…
Serena?
She shook her head, trying to get a clear view of exactly what she saw through Serena’s point of view. It was a residential house; Serena had been taken there with Maledictus and thrown into the bathroom. Zoey closed her eyes for a moment more and took a deep breath, realizing they had the beginnings of a location.
They could make it there!
“Zoey?” Isaac’s voice brought her back to the present.
She smiled, facing her lover and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, “Isaac! Oh my… I was so scared. I missed you so much!”
“I was so worried!” Isaac moved over her, pressing his lips to her
s. “Do you need anything? Can I get you anything?”
Zoey nodded, “The others. I need to talk to them. I think I know where we can find Serena.”
Zoey knew what had to happen next.
“I was so worried about you, Z
oe…” Isaac whispered.
“It’s okay now,” Zoey look
ed down, biting her lip, “I was able to chat with Serena.”
“Serena?” Isaac bit his lip, “H
ow?”
“Somehow through my unconscious mind, I wa
s able to pinpoint Serena’s auric signature; I
found
her and was able to talk to her; able to
see
her.” Zoey bit her lip. “She looked so sick…”
“You could see her?” Isaac asked.
“Sort of. It wasn’t with my eyes… but I could—I don’t know how to describe it—visualize her through her aura,” Zoey shook her head. “I need to get to the communications center, can you get Zane for me?”
“I think we should get him
—”
“No. I need you to
go get Zane, Isaac. I need to help him
and
Serena, and I’m the only one who can,” Zoey shook her head, grabbing a pile of clothes and beginning to dress. “Please, trust me.”
“You know I always will,” Isaac
nodded.
She watched as her lov
er stepped out of the room and took a deep breath, summing up the courage to do what she had to. There was something off about Celine, something that she felt routed directly from Serena’s brother, Keith.
A conspiracy of this multitude could not be taken lightly.
She ran a hand through her short hair, heading into the room and making sure it was locked behind her. She knew both Isaac and Zane knew the code, so she had no worries of them getting in…
But
she couldn’t afford any unwanted visitors.
She s
hivered, remembering Celine’s last words to her before she’d blacked out.
A auric firewall?
She knew a simple auric couldn’t work that kind of energy on a sang, but if she
was
involved with Keith in
any
way, then perhaps…
Shakin
g the thoughts away, Zoey set up a secure line and sent an urgent call to The Council’s direct line.
“Yes, hello. This is Zoey—”
“Yes, yes. I know, my dear; not many from the Vail Clan would be using this line. To what do I owe the pleasure for this call?” Jade, one of the Council’s operators purred into the line.
Zoey knew if anyone c
ould help her, it would be Jade, a powerful auric with a nose for conspiracy and an eagerness to sniff it out. In the past, when Zoey had worked with Jade, the results had been nearly instantaneous.
“Jade, I’m glad I got you,” Zoey sigh
ed. “Do you remember the case we had with Keith Vailean?”
“I do.
I believe he was sentenced to be placed in an auric-induced coma if I’m not mistaken,” Jade replied.
“
That’s correct. I’ve brought up his file here, but I think there may be more to the case;
a lot
more. We need to get a mind sweep on him, pronto,” Zoey bit her lip. “There is more than what we thought going on, and the only way to get the info I need is through Keith’s mind.”
“
Ooh, I
knew
there was something about that slippery little bastard,” the scowl could be heard on Jade’s voice. “Alright, Zoey, since I trust your judgment—and because I’m eager to see if you’re right about this—I’m going to put a flash call on this, and, by that, I mean I’m going to
personally
dig through that eel’s noggin,” Zoey heard Jade call out for a moment through an intercom before returning to the phone, “any info you want directly searched for?”
“Search for anything you can find to do with somebody named
Celine with direct connections to our clan warrior, Zane Murdoch.” Zoey frowned, thinking more about everything. Then, as an afterthought, “And, while you’re at it, anything to do with a Kristine, as well.”
“Alright, I’m on it. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes,” Jade chuckled over the line. “I’m a fast worker. ”
“Thank you so much, Jade!” Zoey smiled, “You’re a life-saver.”
“You got it, Zoey. You owe me for this, you hear?”
“Alright, next time you’re in the area, drinks are on me,” she chuckled.
“I like the way you think,”
Jade laughed. “Talk soon.”
“The same,” Zoey sighed, d
isconnecting the line and turning at the sound of the door’s locks disengaging.
Zane rushed
forward then, scooping Zoey up and holding her in a tight bear-hug.
Zoey laughed, coughing a bit as he pulled away.
“Too tight?” he grinned.
“
What gave it away?” Zoey smiled, “Good to see you.”
“I should be saying that
to you,” Zane bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment, before sighing. “Anyway, what info do you have for me? What the hell happened back there?”
“Whe
n I was out, I was somehow able to channel Serena’s aura,” Zoey told him.
“You…
you talked to Serena? Is she okay? Did Maledictus hur—”
“
Whoa!” Zoey held up her hands, nodding, “She’s fine; alive at least. But she
does
need our help, and I think I finally know how we can do it. I don’t know the specifics, but when I was unconscious a lot of things came to light,” Zoey sighed. “Not just with Serena.”
“What
then?” Zane narrowed his eyes.
“It’s
everything
, Zane,” she said, “I think that
all
of it has been a part of—” She stopped and frowned, “Celine? Where is she? Has she—”
Zane shook his head, “She hightailed it after a spell Maledictus cast drove her to blurt out some rather unpleasant things.”
Zoey raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Like what?”
“Like how I fucked up some plan, and how if she’d killed me and Raith like she’d been ordered to then the relic—she called it a ‘chalice’—wouldn’t have ended up with me and such. Bunch of psycho-babble, but there was some truth behind it; no doubt about that.”
“So what happened?” Zoey asked, chewing her lip.
“So I tried to have one of our auric warriors look inside her head to find out what, and he—”
“Oh no…” Zoey looked up, sadness washing over her face, “Are they…?”
Zane nodded, “Something in Celine’s head must’ve been booby-trapped or something, ‘cause the moment he started digging he was flailing around and, before long, his heart had stopped.” His eyes widened as he thought back to it, “Holy fu—Is that what happened to you? Did Celine do that to you?”
Zoey frowned and nodded, “She called it a ‘psychic firewall.’ I guess somebody cared enough about keeping her memories a secret to make sure that no prying psychics ever caught on about what she’d—”
The computer monitor began to glow with a red warning icon and Zoey turned,
punching in her credentials to receive the restricted information and gesturing to the screen as a data stream began to scroll in life-time from Jade’s system.
“What?
The Council?” Zane looked over at her inquisitively, “What would they have to do with this?”
“I had them do a mind-sweep on Keith,” she stuck her finger out before Zane asked her another q
uestion. “Now, I’d had my suspicions for a while, but all this business with Celine was just bugging the hell out of me. The events with Keith seemed to lead almost
too
quickly to Kristine’s attack on you, and then her new clan shortly after that. It just didn’t seem right; how could she have known everything that was happening so soon after it had happened? And how would somebody like her be able to afford a full clan construction in such a short time, let alone sway The Council into giving her her own clan credentials in such an unprecedented amount of time? And then, literally a few days after we got Maledictus out of you, the sudden appearance of your
dead
ex-fiancé—”