Rebirth Of Order (Rebirth Academy #1)

1. A faded memory

A faded memory

KYRA

The funeral was better than expected if I’m being honest. It’s been a week since her passing, and everyone is acting as though it’s a normal death.

Typically when someone passes, a reason is given to friends and family: old age, a car crash, murder, etc.

Those are the things I’d prefer to hear. Normal.

Damp hair drapes over my shoulder, sticking to the small part of my exposed chest as rain soaks it, and tears stain my cheeks while droplets merge within them. I don’t know if the liquid seeping into my mouth is my own or rain, but either way, even the heavens weep for her.

The gathered crowd dissipates until I’m the only one left. Hushed…Unmoving…Rigid…Transfixed. Simply put, hurt .

Rosie was without a family. No one mourns her other than me, yet strange bodies had attended her funeral. False friends claiming to have known such an amiable soul gathered to witness the mangled body of someone they met in passing. Fuck’em all .

Freshly dug dirt becomes a darker tint as the rain collides with it.

The smell penetrating my nose is a reminder that no more than a week ago Rosie and I were running through a haunted field.

Halloween was always her favorite holiday.

Each year she’d make plans for us to visit as many haunted hotels, houses, and fields as we could in a day.

A fun thrill, being chased, and all too consuming until it wasn’t.

I place a lily at the center of her casket when workers signal my time has ended. “This hole needs filling, and there’s other graves to dig,” they say as if I’m an inconvenience.

Dirt falls and thuds over her walnut casket, snapping me out of deep thought, which consumes my harsh reality. To my right, a man shovels more dirt and tosses it into the hole like someone who is immune to feeling anything.

Dark brown hair fastens to the forehead of his expressionless, pale face, and the veins in his arms bulge with each shovel swing. Part of me envies him, yet the other part wonders how many bodies he has buried till now. Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Nah. It has to be in the hundreds.

His eyes find mine, accompanied by a sad smile. Empathy or sympathy? Something about it appears robotic, hinting he does this often and without enjoyment.

“Excuse me, Miss, we need to finish up here. I’d be more than happy escorting you to the entrance,” the guy on my left inserts. I cut him a squinting leer and then continue looking forward. Though his words sound genuine, his expression tattles what he desires.

His lingering stare traces my body hungrily, and disgust blossoms within me, causing my lips to curl. My best friend lies dead in a wooden box where she’ll remain for eternity, and the one thing embedded in this asshole’s mind is him getting his dick wet.

I scoff while turning away, letting water fly from my hair.

No doubt he is eyeing my ass as I exit. Most men do after I’m in their presence for more than a second.

“You’re pleasing to the eye, and every guy wants their cock buried deep in you.

This is your one purpose, but remember, my cock is the only one that matters.

” The ghost of Dominic’s voice plays in my head.

Rain pounds against the fresh cut grass as the sky becomes unforgiving, but my pace remains even. Slow and unrushed while I clear these spiteful thoughts. There’s no one else needing me. In fact, there’s nothing else for me, period. Rosie was the single family I had left.

Not entirely true. I have a mother. If I could call her that.

My younger years were spent surviving the men she let into our home, and more times than not, my room was an inescapable prison.

Every so often, one of them would become ‘lost,’ probing for the bathroom and stumble in.

It wasn’t until I was old enough to fight back that thing’s took a dramatic turn.

Evelyn, my mother, would often say how she wished I was handed to someone else when things in her life went wrong, but the thought rarely took root in my mind.

Making it to the cemetery’s entrance, a guard waves me over beneath the awning. He is a heavyset fellow, an inch or two taller than me, with more hair on his chin than head. “Are you okay, ma’am? Can I help you with anything?” His words are soft and sincere.

“No, I’m fine. Just leaving.”

“Where are you parked? I can retrieve your vehicle,” he rebuts while his eyes slip for a second, finding their way to my breasts. He realizes his abrupt action and reverts his gaze. “The weather is getting worse, and someone like you shouldn’t be out.”

Someone like me? A damsel in distress or easy prey?

Ignoring his chivalrous notion, or lack thereof, I shove through the gates, exhausted, and head towards my car.

The rain doesn’t frighten me. Hell, I welcome it with open arms. The cold embrace, the scent letting me know its presence is near.

A clear ‘fuck you’ from Mother Nature if there ever was one.

Anger swells deep within me, and the center of my palms itch. It wasn’t fair she was taken away from me. Clasping my fingers into a tight fist, the radiating heat warms my hands a degree above normal.

A short time lapses as I walk from her grave to my car, and my back finally meets the cold touch of an unheated seat. I blow an anguished breath, inhaling and exhaling to calm my turbulent emotions.

Little blemishes of red bubble beneath the surface of my cheeks, changing my baked almond skin tone. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and I’ve come to realize controlling my breathing helps.

A minute or two passes, and my rear-view mirror reveals my almond skin color is back, my palms are no longer heated, and that annoying itch that tags along is gone. With one last breath, I start the car and leave Rosie’s final resting area.

“To the sweetest person, this world didn’t deserve you. For whatever reason, you saved me. I shall never forget the oath made in my darkest hour. Until time permits a reunion, I will forever love you.” Rest easy my Rosie.

The drive home is quiet besides the sound of rain slapping against the windshield and other vehicles passing by. An animal attack. A fucking animal attack. That’s what her death was ruled as?

“Bullshit! They weren’t there. What type of animal disappears into the shadows, has tentacles for arms, and uses them like whips? Animal my ass!” A dangerous growl vibrates my throat, summoned from a dark place.

I went over Rosie’s attack with the officers investigating her death, and they all laughed in response. Voicing my memory wasn’t correct because I’d gone through a traumatic experience. Bullshit upon bullshit. And Detective Jacob wanted to extend his help by insisting that I was a suspect.

Fuck him up the ass with his own baton.

Heavy rain blankets my windshield, mixing with the golden sun rays, when a car further up comes barreling down the road.

Their tires screech as they swerve to avoid hitting a dark figure standing in the road.

The vehicle flips and crashes into the forest at an alarming speed, and I mash my breaks.

“Shit!” I gasp, witnessing smoke slither from under the battered car.

“Who the hell is on the road?” Darting my eyes over the area, I pray they didn’t hit them.

But there’s no sign of the figure. My head snaps towards the car engulfed by smoke as a small fire breaks out, and a piercing scream travels from inside it.

“Shit,” I huff, opening my door, the rain inviting itself in.

Wind forces me back as if something’s blocking me from interfering with Death’s plan.

But I’ve witnessed enough lives lost as Death herself dragged Rosie into ‘Her’ embrace.

Why do I feel Death is a woman? Only a woman can bring you to your knees in a way that destroys the very essence of your existence. Only a woman.

More torturous screams carry over on a dreadful breeze, and against everything holy, my legs push into a full stride. “I’m coming,” I yell over the clicks of my heels striking the slickened ground.

Deep amber and orange flames grow sizable with each passing second, and a light blinds me as another car barrels down the road. “Stop!” I shout with both hands held high, yet they show no signs of halting. “Stop, she needs help!” But the two-tone vehicle swerves around me.

Blame isn’t placed upon them for being a coward. Most people shy away from danger, so their actions only make them human.

Fire begins crackling, and my single relief is the rain stopping it from getting out of control. I rush towards the car, and an echo of glass splitting pings over the small forest, followed by the back windows exploding from the heat.

Fuck… The pressure hits me full on, and I’m tossed aside along with the air from my lungs and embraced by cement biting into my flesh.

Thrown free of the only pair of decent heels I own.

Pieces of sharded glass compliments the aches, and dull stings chase after my trickling blood. Pain washing along with it.

I-I didn’t know windows could explode like that.

Even my thoughts are muffled as everything deafens.

I can feel my pulse pounding inside my ears while struggling to recover, knowing I’m her hope for survival.

Get up Kyra. Searching for some semblance of strength while disregarding this obsessive ringing.

Finally on my feet by sheer will, I inhale deep, and a pop reinstates my hearing. “Hel…” *cough* *cough* “Help,” she screams, and my adrenaline answers. I scan her flaming vehicle and rush over, finding her trapped inside and yanking on the seatbelt.

“Hold on,” I command, and her head snaps to me with a look of hope peeking through. “Turn away.”