Franchesca placed her hand on the knob of the front door just as a black hand with sharp clawed
fingers gripped her wrist and hauled her into the apartment, slamming the door, latching it from the
inside. The whole scene took merely seconds.
An extra second too long to register what Clare just saw before her. Clare screamed as loud as she
could. She screamed until her voice cracked. Nathan didn't waste time in knocking her out of the way
and throwing himself against the wooden door that burst open. A shiny gold knife was pulled out from
his buckle under his jacket before he charged into the apartment.
Crawling toward the door, her eyes bulging. On the verge of wetting her pants, Clare watched in
stunned silence as Nathan sprung himself up in mid-air and jumped on top of the monstrous creature
with the gold dagger in his hand like he was diving in the middle of a war zone, and had done it a
thousand times over.
Eyes fixed on her brother’s movement, he was that amazing. Shocked to the spot as he continuously
plunged the dagger into the creature, Clare didn't notice at first the black and slimy monstrous creature
with bloodied horns protruding from its back or the red eyes that stuck out of its head. She only paid it
attention when the pupil-less eyes of the creature focused on her before it bellowed in pain.
The creature whined, but Nathan relentless with his blade didn't pause with his continuous assault. The
acidic stench of rotten flesh filled the air. Knife in. Knife out. He didn't stop, but the creature wouldn’t let
up, and Clare could see why. Her mother was embedded under its body, not moving. The image
enough to shake her out of the shock that threatened to hold her captive. Clare got up and ran into the
house. Grabbing a vase by the front door she cracked it on the wall. Keeping the sharp point in her left
hand she struck the creature, the piece didn't come out. Screaming, she kicked the wailing beast.
“LET. HER. GO,” kick, “You disgusting,” kick, kick, “Ah, piece of shit.” “LET,” kick, “HER,” hard kick,
“GO.”.
Dislodging Nathan off like he was a bug, sending him through the balcony window, the evil gosling
finally got off her mother.
Now facing her, the beast began to transform. Too stunned, she didn’t see her mother grabbing
Nathan’s dagger from the floor until her mother plunged it into the neck of the creature.
“Clare RUN.”
But Clare couldn’t move, a slash and a strange pain prickling in her stomach had her looking down.
Claw marks parted her shirt and flesh, blood gushing out of her abdomen, hands to the gaping wounds
as the warm liquid dripped over and through her fingers, she felt herself falling down, her body
shuddering with pain as her head made contact with the hard tiled floor.
Was this what death felt like, Was it so easy. Even in death, her mind remained curious, refusing to
accept scraps. She tried focusing, but a sharp needle stabbed her brain. Voices, what were those
voices. Why did she keep hearing voices? Loud screaming hurt her ears, then nothing, silence. A
sudden burn torching her stomach took over all of her senses, melting it into one- excruciating pain..
What felt like hours, she knew must've been minutes before she was invaded by blackness. Not
understanding it, Clare welcomed the bright light coming from the far end of her psyche. Her heavy
eyelids slowly opening.
Lying helpless on the floor Clare focused on the first thing she could see, her mother kneeling and
gasping for air. Next to her mother sat a frowning Alonso and an out-of-breath sweaty Nathan who
crouched next to Clare's head. Swallowing the tears that threatened to flow from upon seeing the worry
in her brother’s face she placed her hands flat on the floor, “Mom, are you okay, Jesus what the hell
was that thing?”
Clare lifted herself up expecting to feel pain from the ab curl being done, she frowned, pausing. She
was more than certain the blood on her stomach was hers, she lifted the ripped t-shirt up slowly.
Sucking in air, she contemplated what she’d find under it.
Not feeling pain anymore is a good thing, she told herself even as she hesitated.
Tightening her spine in preparation, there wasn't much that could shock her after what she had just
witnessed. Having already pieced together that there was something more to her. In a place kept inside
her head, locked away, she’d always known she was different.
Steeling herself, Clare lifted the rest of her top up. Unsurprised that the wound was healed, but still a
soft gasped escaped her parting lips, “It’s gone.”
Tracing the red cursive marks that now marred her stomach she didn't say anything after that.
Clare was scared, yes, her entire world was spinning on a different axis, and it was only the
beginning.
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