ASHTONThere’s a painful silence between the three of us, our feet slow as we make eye contact with the girl. Carden and Oliver are quick to run to her distress, but I stay back. This doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t feel right.Her hands grope at them as she collapses into their arms. Bloody streaks stain their uniforms. I can hear her mumbles from all the way back here. “Help me, please...please help me.”The boys instantly heed to her beck and call, fawning over her and her injuries.Carden’s head whips back as he hollers my name. I don’t come. He says it once more, more aggressive this time. His deep voice echoes down the street. If no one realized I was back in town, they do now.Oliver slips away from the girl. His shirt front is streaked with blood. Stopping a few feet away, he looks at me. “Nineteen, we need your help.” He’s trying to be charming by calling me Nineteen. “You’re a soldier and a bullheaded girl that doesn’t shy away from a fight, so let’s go get the creep that di
ASHTONIt doesn’t take long for the two of them to catch up to me. I hear them behind me talking to someone. Each other? Zayne? I can’t quite seem to get my brain to work, my feet to walk in a straight line.“Here.” Carden approaches my side and throws something at me that I barely manage to catch. “You’re leaving a trail of blood.”I bite my tongue, but it’s useless. The words flow freely from my mouth. “Thanks for noticing Captain Obvious. Yet no one seems to be running to my rescue.” My words are a bit spiteful, but I can’t help it.He stumbles over words that never exit his mouth. Ignoring his narrowed gaze, I knot the fabric he tossed in my face around my thigh. It quickly soaks up the blood. This may be a stitches kinda moment.We’re all a mess and no doubt hurting by the time we reach the car...or at least I am. That’s more action I’ve had in years and I would prefer not to have such an eventful day ever again.“Did I tell you I told you so?” I mutter as I slide into the backse
CARDENShe’s weightless in my arms as I carry her through the halls with Oliver trailing behind me. I should’ve brought her straight to the doc instead of forcing her to bleed out while we spoke with Zayne. She didn’t need to be there. Maybe Zayne isn’t used to mortality, weakness after dealing with us for so long. Or maybe he just doesn’t care and if that’s the case, why do I?My feet come to an aggressive halt as I come face to face with the doc in the hall. “I was made aware that my assistance is needed.” He looks at her blank face, limp limbs. “Let’s get her to her room.”I follow dazed and confused, guilt ridden and sick. This is my fault. The seconds tick by slowly as we navigate the halls to her room. The doc leads the way, not stopping until he’s in her bedroom. Following his unsaid command, I place her on the bed. Blood quickly stains her sheets.Oliver and I stand there, silent as the doc pokes and prods at her leg before searching for the wound on her arm. “We need to get
ASHTONHours go by, days, I can’t be sure how long I was out, but what I do know is that I’m feeling much better...like I knew I would. That cocky attitude quickly dissolves when I catch bright white gauze wrapping my arm again. So...I had a little help, but I’m not bound to say thank you to anyone.I’m torn between being thankful and disappointed in not seeing the doctor again. There’s so many questions to ask that he’ll refuse to answer. As I swing my legs out of bed, a sharp sting shoots through my injured limb. The twist of my abdomen has my ribs searing. It doesn’t take much to know that I probably have bruises all over me. I might have the opportunity to see the doctor again.It takes a great amount of effort, more effort than I’m willing to give to stand up on my own two feet and slip something on. After several agonizing minutes, fully clothed, I flop down on the bed exhausted and ready to sleep another day away.Perfect timing isn’t something I believe in. The door creaking o
ASHTONMorning is signaled by that disturbingly bright sun. It seems to come in at the best angle putting a spotlight just on me, on my face. I long for Mysteria more every day. I was lucky if I saw the sun once a week over there. Sometimes by choice, others forcibly. Hiding under the blanket, which is my only escape, trying to fall back to sleep, I hear the smallest of creaks from the floorboards. Preparation is key, but disappointment is imminent. Even with a firm fistful of the blanket, it is still ripped right out of my grasp. An angry shriek creeps up my throat, but it comes out as a pathetic yelp.It’s several moments of complete blindness before I can see his still unamused, slightly pissed expression. Is it from either my unexpected dead visitor last night or because he’s sick and tired of having to keep waking me up.The fact that he keeps on creeping in here to wake me up causes a deep rooted torment within me, so I’m not sure why he isn’t pleased. If I could give him that
ASHTONI bolt from the room. Carden’s giving me permission and unlike other times, I hang on his words. You don’t need to tell me twice.I barge through the door of the mausoleum to come to an abrupt stop. My feet kick up loose stones as I skid to a halt. Three humans...I think they’re humans, stalk up the stairs.I backtrack and re-enter the building with small shuffling backward steps. “We have a problem.” I whisper as I bump against the tomb once again. I crawl up on top of it just as the three strangers come inside. The crypt seems to get ten times smaller from so many bodies in it.“I think this is the most visitors the old man ever got.” One of them hisses, a girl in all black. From head to toe. From her hair to her fishnets. Black. I get it. Point proven. You’re gothic and like the company of demons.“This one’s cuter than the last.” A boy in dark skinny jeans and a band tee says, leering at me. Band t-shirt. Really? It’s like the universe is mocking me. “Can I keep this one fo
ASHTONThe peeling pepto bismol pink paint that reveals a hideous wallpaper underneath and the disheveled furniture can’t mask the desperation within the crumbling walls of Mysteria Manor. Even the high vaulted ceilings of the Victorian mansion can’t close its eyes to the death that lurks inside. In fact, it showcases our torment. Today it's a small, dainty body that sways from one of its supporting beams.This place should be swarming with cops, hell a priest to put shame on us, but why should the town of Fallen Oaks care about an operating safe house full of neglected and forgotten teenage girls when those who should’ve loved us unconditionally don’t.Curiosity urges my feet to shuffle forward along with the others, gathering, gawking at the scene either in pity or intrigue. Virgil, the grounds keeper, crawls along the framework to reach the dead girl. He isn’t the spryest of the bunch that’s for sure. His old wrinkled body seems more fragile than fit as he wipes his brow already sw
CARDENThese streets are plagued with demons. The several sets of eyes that follow our car down the road could be demons, could be human consorts. All the same. This town is going to Hell. Do I care? No, but I should. The only reason we’re here is because of her.The nightmare girl. The sooner we find her the better we’ll all be. Maybe. The final decision on what to do with her has already been made, but it's bound to be problematic. The house we stop in front of is in shambles and I immediately know she’s not here. I suppress my agitation with a heavy breath. The front steps are crumbling and the shrubbery is overgrown. The windows are blocked out with ugly printed sheets. The general feeling that comes off the house is all around dreadful. Life sucking almost. Maybe she is here after all.Oliver, the only other person I trust, leads the way to the front door. He’s always been more impromptu, rushing into things without thinking while I remain on guard, analyzing everything. The tw