26. Chrysalis
Chrysalis
A s soon as my eyes burst open, all I felt was pain and confusion.
I woke up gasping for air, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. The remnants of my nightmare still clung to my mind to the point where I almost didn’t recognize my own bedroom or my own cat asleep on top of my piles of blankets. How had I gotten here? What had happened before I had fallen asleep? Why was there such a thick fog for me to navigate through?
I remembered my birthday trip. Once Quinn and I made it to the front of the attraction, we regained enough cell reception to call 1313, the supernatural equivalent of 911. When the supernatural police, EMTs, and firefighters arrived, they sectioned off the scene and got to work.
While they were speaking to me and Quinn about what happened, they wheeled out two black body bags. My stomach plummeted as I realized those had to be the attendants for the ride. They hadn’t made it. Not having fed for so long after being used to a steady diet of energy, the vampire was in a frenzy, killing anything and everything he could to sate his hunger. They had been murdered, and I couldn’t even remember what they looked like. I remembered they had been kind and smiled as they helped us. But I didn’t remember their hair or face. Only their screams surfaced when I thought about them. They had been in the background, but they had both been people with lives that I now would only know the last moments of. Quinn pulled me in close so I couldn’t see as they wheeled them elsewhere, but I couldn’t shake how close I was to being in one of those bags.
As the investigators wrapped up, Maisie, Simone, and the cousins rushed toward us. They had been wondering what was taking us so long to return and had hurried to get off their rides when they saw the lights from the various emergency vehicles. Quinn took the cousins aside to tell them what happened, their conversations hushed and low enough for me and the girls not to hear, but they couldn’t hide their scrunched eyebrows and frowns or the way their eyes darted away quickly when we met eyes. They were obviously talking about what happened and about me. But what were they saying?
I was in the middle of telling the girls what had happened when Ophelia approached the tape surrounding us. Her otherworldly perkiness was gone in favor of something darker and far more lethal. She stared knives at me, her mouth formed into a snarl. Her hands swirled with a mustard yellow magic that she was ready to aim at me. Before she could raise her hands high, Maisie blasted her with her starry neon purple magic. Maisie’s power cuffed Ophelia’s hands, snuffing out Ophelia’s magic and bringing her to the ground. She struggled against her restraints before she started screaming.
“No! This wasn’t supposed to be like this! You were supposed to die, not him! It should have been you , not him! What did you do to him? How did you survive?” She screeched, her voice grating on my nerves but also reminding me of what Maisie’s father had said. You are worth so much more dead than alive obviously. Your kind always has been. Why did so many folks want me dead? What did they know that I didn’t? My stomach swirled, and I tightened my arms around my sides.
“That sounds like a confession to me,” An officer said, picking her up. As he arrested her, Maisie’s magic dispersed from the magic-blocking handcuffs he used. She continued to scream and fight every step of the way as the cop put her in the car.
With everything that happened, the park closed down for the rest of the day. Since it was still relatively early in the day, we decided to walk along City Walk and explore it for more fun. We did an escape room, where Cooper and I surprisingly led the team to find all the clues. We played a few arcade games—well, I watched Quinn and Cody try to beat each other at skeeball, fighting games, and pinball. Finally, we had our dinner just as Quinn had planned at the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium where we enjoyed delicious food and a steampunk atmosphere. It was all ridiculously fun and a great end to the day. But it was also the end of our trip as we were heading home the next day. After everything I had been through, I kind of appreciated being able to be alone to think about what had happened.
Especially the parts I hadn’t fully told Quinn, Maisie, and Simone about just yet.
The pain in my eyes pulsed. Squinting through them, I could see in the darkness of my bedroom just like I was able to on the ride. The pain was so much worse this time with a burning that made me cry.
My skin felt raw, itchy, and dry, like someone had set it in the sun and stretched it too far over my bones. It no longer felt right, and it made everything hurt to move. I knew I had lotioned immediately after my shower. I had felt soft before bed. So, why did it feel like I hadn’t touched moisture in well over a decade and then walked through an Arizona desert for days on end? It was the most painful ashiness I had ever felt in my life. Around my neck and on my chest, through my hoodie, my necklace was on fire . Somehow, it was a comforting warmth against the relentless chill making my entire skeleton rattle from shivering, even though my body was covered in a cold sweat.
I threw the blankets off of me, much to Din-din’s dismay, as she yowled at me and jumped from the bed.
On my bedside, I noticed my grimoire. I had never gone a night without having it near my bed, except for my birthday trip. Right now, it was wide open. The page it was on was much further in the grimoire than I had read about Mom meeting Pops. The pages were blank, though. When had it opened to this page? Did it have something to do with my dream about Mom and then Aunt Max’s and Pops’ deaths?
This was the first nightmare I had had about them since I was, what? Seventeen? Gods, for two years straight after, I had night terrors where I would relive that night over and over again. Sometimes, I would be in the position where I was when it had all happened. Other times, I would be Aunt Max or Pops in their final moments, bleeding out alone in the second-floor hallway. The worst would be when I dreamed about that boy with his blood-red knife buried in my stomach and his gun against my chest, waiting for him to shoot. Those nights would be when Everett would come into my room to calm me down as I screamed and sobbed relentlessly. I would be awake for hours after, full of dread and anger. This wasn’t too far off from that.
In my bathroom, I tried to rinse my eyes of whatever was causing the burning agony. When I looked up in the mirror to see if I could find the offender after several rinses, I caught a glimpse of my eyes.
What the fuck?
My eyes were a neon periwinkle blue with lavender purple on the edges. Thin black slits cut straight down the middle. They soon returned to their normal mudpie brown with my pupil rounding out again. The bathroom darkened around me, making me realize that I hadn’t turned on the light because I could see at the time.
I blinked.
Was I going crazy?
Had I imagined it all?
Was that possible?
“Cleo, please turn on the bathroom light,” I asked, my voice cracking as my anxiety grew.
“You bet, girlfriend! Are you okay? I’m sensing that your heart rate is very high.”
“I’m fine,” I said, even though I was certainly not fine.
With the light on, I noticed that I was scratching at my hands and arms without even thinking about it. Every part of my skin, including my scalp, was almost unbearably irritated. It was insufferable . I grabbed my favorite cocoa butter and shea lotion to lather all over my skin with more product to salve the pain. Even though it was a new bottle, by the time I was done, I had used over half of it. I took my locs out of their bonnet, and I oiled each part around each individual loc to ease some of the pain.
None of it truly worked.
My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, my eyes wet and bloodshot, my lips parted, and my breathing erratic.
First, my back scars revealing themselves as scars to Quinn.
Second, the cold.
Third, the claws and fangs.
And now, my eyes and skin?
What’s happening to me?
I replaced my hoodie and bonnet.
Was something wrong with me?
I turned off the light in my bathroom and returned to bed.
Was I dying? Could I be turning into a monster?
I pulled my covers over my head.
Wrong.
Turning.
Monster.
Dying.
Dying.
Dying.
Those words played over and over in my head, my anxiety gnawing a greater hole in my gut. I worried my bottom lip hard enough to sting. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if there was anything I could do. I think that the not knowing scared me most of all.
The sobs came suddenly and strongly within the heat of the covers. Through my tears and crying, I called out. “Mom, please. What’s happening to me? What do I do?”
My sniffles and the silence in between them were my only response.
F or two weeks, it was an endless cycle. I would go to bed each night, hoping it wouldn’t be like the night before, but it was like clockwork. Instead of talking to my mom and experiencing the last time I saw my pops alive, I had a haunting nightmare full of wrinkled, faceless dead bodies that lingered long after I opened my eyes. I would wake up early in the morning a couple hours before my alarm went off for work to see through the dark with pained eyes and to feel relentlessly itchy across my skin. I had gone through more bottles of lotion and oil than I wanted to admit to. I had tried taking allergy medicine to relieve my irritated skin and to get a full night’s rest, but it was to no avail, as it continued to happen over and over again.
I told Simone and Maisie what was happening, as well as what had happened at Universal during our brunch date the week after we came home. Unsure of how to talk about Quinn and her daggers, since I had no idea what to make of them just yet, I kept that part a secret. They were shocked but more confused and worried than anything. We were all clueless about what was going on with my body. Maisie suggested I make a doctor’s appointment to see if she could help, and we all agreed that would be a great idea. So, I booked the earliest appointment I could, which ended up being a week out.
Plenty of time for my anxiety to continue devouring me.
There was nothing I could do to hide it, especially as I became more irritable from my interrupted sleep, leaving me a raw nerve. Uncle Everett asked if I was okay at least twice a day. I hadn’t told him what had happened with the energy vampire, worried that he would freak out. But I also didn’t tell him about everything else because I couldn’t get his blank expression when I asked about the grimoire out of my brain. What if all of this was connected? I couldn’t bear to see that side of him again. So, I told him I was having some “girl” problems and had scheduled a check-up to look into it. It was enough to assuage him, so he didn’t worry as much about me, at least on the outside.
Not telling Quinn was what made me feel the worst. I shouldn’t feel guilty given that she was obviously hiding something herself, when it came to her work and family. But I wanted to tell her so badly . I wanted her input and ideas for what could be happening. I wanted her comfort and to hear her say it was going to be okay. But it hadn’t felt right. Aside from her own things she wasn’t telling me, I just had a feeling that I couldn’t explain. It was like I wasn’t ready to tell her, not until I had some idea myself. I had no answers, and I was so scared of what any of this meant.
I didn’t want to worry her.
I didn’t want to lose her.
The idea alone was too much for me to bear.
A few days ahead of my appointment after waking up from one of my nightmares and allowing my eyes to return to normal, I plucked my phone from its charger on my nightstand. Quinn and I had been texting since my birthday trip, but it was just good mornings and good nights with some memes sent in between. Nothing serious. So, I typed out a quick text:
ME
I miss you so much, starlight.
I sent it and flipped over to Netflix to watch a calming cooking show until I fell back asleep again. I had just clicked on my profile when Quinn’s response came through:
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
You have no idea how much I miss you, sweetness. But what are you doing up? Isn’t it like 4 am there?
ME
It is, but why do you sound like you are somewhere else? What are you up to?
Quinn sent a picture of herself. She was smiling, her curls piled in a messy bun on her head. She wore a black hoodie with a raccoon embroidered on it that said, “Fight me, coward!” with a green military jacket over it and jeans. There was snow around where she sat, and her cheeks were rosy from the cold. I saved it immediately.
She was so stinking cute.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
Working, unfortunately. I’m in Norway right now working with some dwarves on a property.
ME
First of all, that hoodie is amazing. I can’t wait to steal it. ??
ME
Secondly, dwarves? Like on some Baldur’s Gate or Lord of the Rings shit?
Quinn laugh-reacted to my text about stealing her hoodie before sending:
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
I love how much of a nerd you are, but I have no idea how to answer that. ??
ME
Lol, I didn’t know dwarves were a thing. I have read about them, but the books in the Archive always make it out like they existed years ago but died out.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
There are villages of them that live in remote places away from humans. They aren’t huge fans of technology, but a few of them do live in cities and make them run.
ME
Well, look at you. Teaching me something new. ?? So, you said you are working on a property with them? Like preparing it to sell?
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
In a way. You could say that.
I felt like there was more there that she wasn’t telling me. Again. But it didn’t feel right to dig into it over text. I decided to change the subject.
ME
I know you hate the work your family does, but it’s kind of cool how much traveling you get to do. Do you ever get to explore wherever you go?
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
Sometimes. Depends on how quickly we get the job done. Cooper is on this one with me, so we should have it done in a few days before I get sent on another one. He’s incredibly thorough while also being super by the book. It’s both helpful and annoying.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
Now, why are you up? ??
ME
I can’t sleep. I feel like absolute dookie.
It was just close enough to be the truth.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
You did not just say ?dookie.???
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
But I’m so very sorry, mi tesoro. What’s wrong?
ME
Allergies, maybe? I’m not sure. Everything hurts.
Again, not a total lie. It helped to reassure me a little in my manipulation of the truth.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
My poor baby girl! I hope you get better soon.
ME
You and me both. ??
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
I wish I was there to get you some medicine or some good food to help you feel better.
ME
Same. I would love to be cuddling you right about now.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
I would hold you until you fell back to sleep. I would keep you warm, rubbing on your back and everything to soothe you. I would get you anything you wanted.
ME
Okay, now I ?need? you here. I’m sure that’s what the doctor is going to prescribe for me.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
I would if I could, trust me. ?? I’m glad you are going to the doctor, though. Keep me posted on what they say, okay? I hate that you are sick, and I wish I was there to take care of you. ?? I want you to feel better.
ME
I will soon. I promise.
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
Get some sleep, babe. I’ll talk to you soon.
ME
Okay, talk to you when I wake up for good this time. ??
PUMPKIN QUEENIE ??
?? ?? ??
I smiled at my phone before a yawn overtook me. I returned my phone to the charger and turned over. I told Cleo to turn the light off, and I closed my eyes.
A knock sounded on the door to my exam room. A thin, pretty white woman came in wearing a cute dress with a cat collar on it. Her brown hair was in a bouncy ponytail. Through her mask, she smiled at me in greeting, holding her hand out for me to shake.
“Hiya, Byrdie! It’s good to see you!”
“Same to you, Dr. Julian.” It had taken a ridiculous amount of years to find a doctor that I liked who saw past my weight and didn’t have any noticeable racial bias. Dr. Julian was a shifter, who specialized in both human and supernatural medicine. She always took in my entire health, instead of blaming everything on my high BMI. She focused on the science, and even would explain everything from an anatomical perspective that I could understand. I trusted her, something that I had never done with a medical professional before.
“So, it looks like you came in for a number of issues you’re having. How about you tell me about them?”
“Well, I recently started feeling really cold all the time where I struggle to get warm. Then I was attacked by an energy vampire during my birthday?—”
“That sucks. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Dr. Julian said, placing a hand on my shoulder for reassurance for a moment.
“You and me both.” I smiled. “But when that happened, I grew fangs and claws. Since then, I have been waking up in the middle of the night from really bad nightmares. When I wake up, I can see in the dark, but my eyes hurt like hell. My skin is unbearably itchy, and there’s no amount of lotion that can soothe it. I just… I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Dr. Julian’s eyebrows furrowed. She sat down and typed up my responses on her computer as I spoke. Then she asked, “Were you bitten by any other shifters lately? Encounter any hexes, curses, or jinxes?”
I shook my head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Very strange.” She clicked through her computer for a moment. Then she continued, looking between me and the computer as she spoke. “We ran some tests, including testing your blood for any shifter venom and doing some shadow-work to verify you didn’t have a spell cast against you, but all of your tests are clean.
“I will be fully transparent and say that I’m not sure what’s going on. This may be a supernatural occurrence I have never seen. It could also be that this is not supernatural at all, that you are going through something completely human. There are humans, especially those assigned-female-at-birth, who go through a hormonal adjustment around your age. Things happen to your body as you get older, including the development of certain disorders that can throw everything out of whack and present itself as strange symptoms within your body. This can make the twenties like a second puberty of sorts for many young women. I know that does nothing to answer your questions and does not solve what is happening, but it does offer a step in the direction of what could be happening. Unfortunately, medicine can be a very inexact science for supernaturals and non-supernaturals alike.”
I worried my bottom lip as Dr. Julian explained what it could be, listing off various disorders, syndromes, and magical possibilities. None of it calmed my churning stomach as my anxiety grew and grew. In the end, she prescribed me with some medicine to help soothe my skin, aid in my eye strain, and keep me asleep through the night instead of waking up from nightmares. I knew it was the best that she could do, and I didn’t fault her for it. I had had a feeling seeking help would be a long shot.
But I still wondered what it could all mean.
What’s happening to me?