Chapter 3 #3
It’s not the first time one of them has tried to attack me; the magic functions as a shield each time, ensuring my safety.
Yet, this is the first time I have taken matters into my own hands, a way to test my strength against a supernatural being.
She never stood a chance, not with the wounds I inflicted on her with my mere touch and the magic blocking her healing capabilities.
She couldn’t disappear into thin air like she had before because of that; all her energy was focused on healing herself. It was almost an unfair match. Almost.
I let the vampire corpse rot on the floor as I drag my body back to bed and instantly fall into a deep slumber. I dream of scorching Harlot to pieces, just as I did the vampire, hearing her cries, instead of the vampire's, fill my brain.
“FYNN! FYNNIGAN! OPEN THAT DAMN DOOR!”
Mother shouts on the other side of the perfectly painted door.
Her knocks are rapid, and her voice grows louder and more panicky with each bang.
I roll my eyes before I open the door, and she falls into my arms, not expecting the door to open so swiftly.
She pushes herself off of me and slams her small fists angrily onto my chest.
“You stupid, stupid boy!” she snaps. “Because of your little act last night, we must leave this town immediately. Every dark creature will be waiting for us if we don’t move soon. Why did you have to do that, Fynn? Why?”
“Why bother, Mother? We have the magic, don’t we? Let them fucking come. The thing they call Aurum will protect us. Why should we leave? I’ll kill whichever one gives it a shot.” I smile at her as I crack my neck and roll my shoulders.
The thought of killing more of them makes the corners of my mouth curl upward to the extent that it almost hurts.
Mother slaps me hard across my cheek, and I wince.
I look at her in shock, and I restrain myself from hitting her back, my muscles tensing.
I did not expect that. Her actions feed the demon inside of me, the one that got awoken after I killed that vampire.
I blink at her, still in disbelief, and feel my cheek burn slightly.
This is my mother, not some lunatic vampire; I breathe in and breathe out.
My mother remains unfazed by the fury building inside me, too consumed by her own anger.
“Don’t be an idiot, Fynnigan,” she sneers, “You know better than to defy destiny. If we taunt it, fate will find its way; it always does. Besides, don’t ever take a liking to killing, not even vampires; all that murder does is blacken your soul. Grab your stuff; we’re leaving immediately.”
She holds up her finger as I open my mouth.
“Don’t, Fynnigan, don’t.”
With those final words, she turns around and strides out of the house, leaving me staring at her with ire. It’s been a long time since my mother used my full name.
I sigh and throw the few things I had taken with me last night into my bag.
I glance into the room I stayed in to see if there’s anything worthwhile to take along.
It’s not like the female vampire will need it anymore.
I chuckle at that. I glance at the burned, dried-out corpse on the floor.
Nothing gives away what she used to be, a powerful being humans would cower for, a being I barehandedly destroyed and killed.
Refusing to give the vampire any more thought, I take my things and quickly fall in step behind my mother, not looking back at the scorched body I am leaving behind.
Harlot is already waiting, pretending to be the good girl she is, averting her eyes, not daring to look at me. Mother glares at me disapprovingly.
“You could have at least put on some fresh clothes,” Mother murmurs.
I know my attire reflects the events from last night; I haven’t changed into clean clothes, and the blood stains and soot are evident.
I haven’t removed my dirty outfit on purpose.
It is to send a message to every creature we will encounter as we pass through this sickening town, that it is I who murdered one of their kind: me, a human.
And I am ready to repeat that dance if they want to try it.
From my mother's condescending look, I can tell she does not share my sentiment. She prefers to leave towns as quietly as possible, without leaving a trail, as if those we are running from would find us otherwise. As if my public display of killing the supernatural brings us into jeopardy. Ignoring my mother, I focus my attention on my sister. To spook Harlot, I tell her in excruciating detail how I killed the vampire, how her skin crumbled and melted under my touch, and how easily I snapped her neck. I mimic the sound it made, baring my teeth at her as I do. Harlot stares at me in horror, her gray eyes wide. Satisfaction takes hold of me. I smirk at her and increase my pace, leaving her behind with her thoughts. Hopefully, she’ll stop with her creepy glances.
DIARY ENTRY:
Keir is an incredible father, a natural. He helps me with the twins whenever he can. He agreed to the names. I can tell they are both little fighters and curious. I would fight Hell for them. I will fight you for them. Let me keep Keir, too; I need him.