Twelve
Kallie
I can’t keep doing this. The never-ending sea of questions is getting tiresome, but unfortunately, I don’t see myself getting answers anytime soon. For starters—and arguably the most important—what the fuck keeps trying to kill me? This must be its homeland, wherever here is. It’s not like I’ve encountered it when going to and from classes.
A shudder wracks through me as the image of it flashes through my mind. Its eyes glow with a bone-shattering light, prowling on all fours. Its teeth —no, fangs— could rip into my flesh like butter, and the claws…the mere thought of those claws makes my stomach recoil.
It had me, right between its talons. Goosebumps coat my skin, the memory resurfacing from just moments ago. I thought I was going to die. Would it have been excruciating? Slow and methodical so I would feel every nerve being severed? Or would the pain be so unbearable that my brain would shut off and block it all out?
Fear creeps into the marrow of my bones with each step through the maze of trees. I was hoping the fucker would bleed out by now, but I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. I was certain the superficial lac down its arm would only piss it off, and it did. It wasn’t so much of a screech of pain, but one of surprise. Either way, there’s no doubt that sound will haunt my nightmares for years to come.
It reared back on its hind legs, ready to pounce. It was the perfect opening, and I took full advantage, slashing a deep, long gash across the width of its abdomen. Blood spread from the laceration, the smell of a sewer still present as it stains my skin. My ears still ring from the foreign wail.
Crunch.
Fuck. Me.
Crunch.
Why won’t it just fucking die? Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself for another fight and scan my surroundings. The silhouette of trees clouds my vision, framed by brush and branches, and I almost miss it. On the ground, hiding just beneath the debris, is the smallest glint that just barely catches my eye. Keeping my head on a swivel, my feet carry me toward the strange glimmer. Once I reach it, I do a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn before crouching down. Reaching my hand out, my fingers grip something solid under the leaves.
Quickly standing, my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as a blade is showcased beneath the moonlight.
It’s a sword.
It is surprisingly light, considering the blade is about half the length of both my forearms combined, and I don’t have to test it to know it’s wickedly sharp. The hilt has some sort of stone I’m unfamiliar with, and there’s an engraving I can’t see but feel surrounding it. And I’m so grateful, considering the knife I had is long gone after so stupidly dropping it after tearing it from the creature’s body.
Crunch.
As if it has a mind of its own, as soon as the twig sounds off, the sword swings itself around the top of my head—surprising the hell out of me, I squeeze the handle for dear life—and slashes down in front of me.
Whoa.
The glistening metal stares at me as it hovers in the darkness. It’s truly captivating, so mesmerizing, I could have sworn it pulsed with a faint glow.
I’m on the ground in the blink of an eye, so fast my brain couldn’t process what was happening before it was too late. Claws embed themselves into my back, and I let out a soul-wrenching scream.
How the creature got so close is beyond me. The beast isn’t the most agile creature, but then again, I don’t really know anything about it—and clearly, I stand corrected.
Any thoughts I have are cut short when another figure moves in front of me. There are two?
I am so royally screwed. The sword dropped out of my grasp from the impact of the attack, tumbling just out of reach.
And I know I’m as good as dead without it.
With a battle cry, I push myself up and roll out of its hold. But I failed to realize the claws were still secured in place, and I just gave it a pound of my flesh.
Lying here, bleeding and exhausted, I’m afraid I don’t have much more to give. That thought might terrify me the most. I don’t let the tears fall, instead relishing in the sting that reminds me I’m here. I’m alive. And I have to keep fighting.
The stare that lingers on my neck doesn’t even faze me now. It’s always there, always watching. I am Kallie fucking Wilson, and I will not give up. Every nerve screams at me as I stand. It feels like I’m tearing my back in two. Once I’m up on my feet, I’m ready to give it my all. But their forms retreat back into the trees.
Searing pain laces through my body with every step. The feeling of a waterfall flows down my spine, and my energy is quickly fleeting. Hobbling in the opposite direction they went, I see the discarded sword and reach my hand out to swipe it off the ground. Maybe it’s from the blood loss or my eyes playing tricks on me, but the sword comes to me . Like I’m fucking Professor X, it just shoots into my palm. A low growl sounds somewhere behind me, and I don’t hesitate before getting the hell out of dodge.
My face gets torn up from the low-hanging branches, the pain becoming almost too much to bear. Footsteps edge closer as I begin to slow down. The inevitable starts to set in, but I will not go down without a fight. Taking a sharp right turn, I zigzag my way through the trees, hoping to get them off my trail and get a game plan in place.
Instantly, the forest grows still with an eerie sense of danger. Then time stops as skeletal-like fingers pull me down. All of a sudden, my face hits the ground with a bone-crunching smack, and pain instantly spreads throughout my face. My breath catches in my throat, not even able to let out a scream. I learned my lesson last time and hold on to the sword like my life depends on it.
Because it does.
Mud smears over my face, and rocks and twigs lodge themselves into my flesh as I’m dragged across the forest floor.
Kicking only causes the claw to rip farther down my leg, but I keep the scream held in. Nobody will hear it anyway.
I will not give up.
Rolling over, I ignore the pain and focus on the night sky and allow myself a moment to get lost in the stars.
Doing the same song and dance, I block out the agony radiating from my back as I slice off its hand. I’m not even fazed by the beast’s wails. They’re just as common as the birds chirping in the morning at this point.
Not wasting time, I spring up and take my fighting stance, shocked at how well the beast blends into its surroundings. Like a chameleon, it’s almost indistinguishable from the neighboring trees. The only difference is the pair of glowing eyes narrowed in slits aimed at me.
My body is vibrating. My limbs feel heavy, and suddenly, the lightweight sword feels like I’m holding a barbell. All too quick, it lunges for me, and I tuck and roll, popping back up onto my feet.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, it feels like we’ve come to some sort of weird understanding. But then, it tilts its head up and lets out a howl.
Well. That can’t be good.
One by one, pairs of eyes blink open behind the set I’m currently staring at.
Fuck. Me.
And it starts again. The original creature comes at me. Swinging the sword across, I make contact, slicing right through and severing its head. The inky blood sprays out, and the taste causes me to start heaving immediately.
There’s no time for a reprieve because the other two come at me full force. I dodge the attacks and swing when I can, but nothing sticks. We’re dancing in circles, and I have a feeling my luck is about to run out.
What the hell are these things? It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before, nothing in any of the books I’ve read or folklore that’s been passed down. It’s unsettling. Not knowing any weaknesses despite just cutting heads off.
My body feels like a bucket of gasoline was poured on it, followed by an igniting match. Everything hurts. My mind, body, and soul are completely spent. It feels as though someone sewed hundred-pound bags into my arms. I drop the sword, unable to hold the weight any longer, leaving myself defenseless. The blood loss, dehydration, the fucking pain. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
I’m gonna die.
Can I die?
“Please wake the fuck up!” I scream to my subconscious.
They start circling me like vultures, preying on the weakest link. That’s what I am. Weak.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Tears stream down my face as I stare at their mouths lined with razor-sharp teeth, dripping drool. An odd sensation begins in my hands. They’re tingling, like buzzing bees beneath the surface.
The creatures stop abruptly.
And I hold my breath.
One second, they’re standing there, and in the next, they both run at me, one on my left and one on my right.
My arms fling out to my sides, and I brace for impact. I force my eyes to stay open and look up so the stars are the last thing I see. Until my body starts to feel lighter. Freer. Breathing erratic, I peer down, stunned I’m still alive.
Flowing out from my hands is a bright, blinding light. It pours out of me, like there’s been a dam inside me, and it finally broke, and everything that was being held back is rushing to the surface.
This is fucking wild.
Finally, it stops. I have nothing left to give. Collapsing onto the cold, wet ground, I can see just mere feet away, the disintegrated flesh of both creatures.
Despite everything, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips.
I did not die.
That is my last thought as my eyes drift closed, and I let the darkness claim me.
When I wake, a thunderstorm rages outside. Raindrops pelt against my window, and the roaring wind whistles through the slight opening. Sitting up, I let the events really sink in. That was different. I defeated the demons that have haunted my nightmares for so long. And I can’t think of a single time since this has all started that I haven’t woken up screaming.
That might be the biggest victory of all.
Flinging the blankets off me, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and hiss at the immediate sting radiating from my back.
What the hell?
My face pinches as I stand, wincing with each hobbling step. Standing in front of my vanity mirror, I ease off my shirt. Scorching flames blister the length of my back as the hem of my shirt skates across.
Peering over my shoulder, air gets lodged in my throat, and ice seals my veins. Four lines run down each side of my back. Agony ripples through me as I stretch my hand out and run my fingertips over the raised skin. Claw marks scar my flesh, and a sob escapes. That couldn’t have been real, right? They’re just nightmares. The running, the fighting, the monsters, the—
Quickly releasing my top, I stare at my palms in disbelief.
The power.