3. What Is Normal? #2
Just as I’m leaving, I spot a beanie and flannel that look almost exactly like what I wore when Ann and I first met at that diner.
It feels like a sign, a reminder of what we were before we became monster hunters.
I grab both and pay for everything, pulling on the shirt and cap to surprise Ann and maybe, just maybe, feel a bit more like myself again.
I catch my reflection in the mirror on my way out, wincing at how boyish I look. Hard to believe this was once my signature style. I push down the embarrassment and hurry out of the store to meet Ann, nearly running into a distracted mall cop as I go.
As I near the consignment shop, I see Ann leaving, a little early and alone.
She’s glancing around, looking for me, worry etched on her face.
At the same moment, another mall cop heads straight for her and starts rifling through her shopping bag.
I want to rush over, but the fear of embarrassing her in front of her friend keeps me rooted.
My need for normalcy outweighs my impulse to help.
He pulls a gaudy necklace from her bag, price tag still dangling, something I can’t imagine being sold in that shop.
He demands that Ann come with him. She protests, insisting he planted it, but eventually relents and follows.
I trail behind. As I do, my phone buzzes with a text from Ann sharing her live location and saying that some weirdo is trying to frame her, oblivious to the fact that I’m already following.
I keep wanting to intervene, but I have no clue how, so I keep following at a distance instead.
He leads her to a heavy metal door in an empty section of the mall, probably an old or soon-to-be store.
There’s another argument before he ushers her inside.
I hurry after them, catching the door just before it shuts.
Through the crack, I hear raised voices, more arguing, I think, but when I peek inside, it’s not a flustered Ann I see.
It’s the man mall cop and, now that I look closer, the woman cop from earlier, both bickering while Ann sits between them, a bag over her head.
My heart immediately sinks, certain at this point that neither is a mall cop, but their words stop me from bursting through the door.
“I'm telling you, she just disappeared! I'm not even sure there was another girl,” the woman says. “I searched the whole store!”
Only then do I realize this isn’t a random abduction—they’re targeting Ann. And if they’re after her, they’re probably after me too. But who are they? They don’t smell like monsters. They just smell like regular people.
“This will have to do. How dangerous can the other one really be?” The guy replies as he pulls out a massive set of metal shackles, the kind that are overkill for a normal person and might still give me trouble in my Div form.
Ann doesn’t struggle as they argue over the best way to cuff her to a metal chair. She’s caught on, too. Then, cool as ever, she interrupts their bickering. “You two are so fucked when my girlfriend gets here.”
The guy smacks her on the back of the head, and I almost charge in.
But before I can, a door at the far end opens.
Bright light silhouettes a tall, thin figure, and through the door I spot the same vintage white Cadillac I’d seen earlier.
The one from the drive down. The one I now remember seeing near the den.
When the door shuts, the figure's features resolve into a dark-haired man in a finely tailored black suit, the kind of man I imagine mid-level executives put on their mood boards.
His lips curl into a sharp-toothed grin as he eyes Ann.
All the while, she twists her head trying to understand what's happening now.
He looks her over, appraising, then pauses to look around. “Where's the other one?”
His voice is a low, menacing hiss. That’s when I finally catch it—the faint, foul stench of a curse.
“Are you sure there was another one?” the woman asks.
The well-dressed man stares daggers at her, and she goes stone still, though I doubt that was from any sort of magic. Then he walks over and fingers the fabric of her jacket, the jacket I let her borrow.
“This will have to do,” the man in the suit says.
“So we did well, Boss? That means you'll turn us?” the guy asks.
It takes me a moment to process what I just heard. We’ve fought creatures that enslave others, but these two idiots volunteered. They want to be turned, never realizing it means becoming his slaves.
Then I remember the look on that guy's face in the den. He was probably surprised because he was just like them. He was promised something just so this guy could use him as bait.
Worst of all, the fact that he sent humans and cares about that jacket means he’s been watching us. Watching me.
Something curdles in my gut as I realize how na?ve I’ve been. I can’t offer Ann normalcy. I can barely offer her safety. All I can do now is make sure she doesn’t pay for my mistakes.
“Are you the head honcho?” Ann asks from under the hood.
“You could say that.” The man grins as he backs towards his goons.
“So when are you going to turn us, boss?” the guy cop asks.
“Could you be less desperate?” the woman shoots back.
But their well-dressed boss just grins. “Actually, I think I'll turn you both now. I could use the extra muscle for what comes next.”
Despite the woman’s hesitation, both of them look disturbingly eager as the foul stench thickens. But my eyes stay fixed on Ann. She’s sitting there, hearing all the awful things they plan to do, and even with a bag over her head, she looks cool as ever.
Then, as skin rips and bone cracks, Ann’s bored voice cuts through the noise, as if she knows I’m listening. “Trust me, when it comes to my girl, the best thing about her is you never know what she’ll do next.”
I take way too long smiling to myself as the guy finishes transforming his accomplices with his piranha-like fangs, the two now perfect mirrors of the deformed creature I fought the other night.
It's only once that stench becomes too great that I'm reminded my girlfriend is still in danger, and I should probably do something about that.
Finally, the suited man changes, becoming a larger, even more grotesque version of his companions, his body muscular and bulbous in a way I doubt the others ever achieved. Then, with two hooked claws, he pinches the top of the bag and pulls it away.
Ann just looks up at him, completely unsurprised by another toothy maw hungry for her flesh. Instead, she's smiling, waiting, wondering, trusting.
In that instant, the boss monster’s eyes go wide. He finally realizes they’ve caught the wrong girl, just as I charge in, my transformation so fast and urgent I barely register it.