DECEMBER JANE

Kate: We All Fall Down

Masky wasn't at the trailer. Hoodie wasn't in the trailer. They told Toby to stay back.

I knew they were after December.

The rain pounded against my body. I ran against the sharp cold pellets as fast as I could. I didn't know where she would be. She wasn't at the old trailer I found her near, either. There was a table flooded with scrap parts and tools, but nothing much else other than a blanket on the sofa.

I ran onto the road and took a sharp right. My feet slipped on puddles on the road. She was at that church, she had to be.

But I rounded the corner and halted. The church was on fire. Half of its structure had collapsed. Bodies lay unmoving on the ground, while others ran about in a panic, shouting names. The flames roared against the rain. I could feel the heat from the edge of the parking lot.

I called December's name, but I heard no response. She wasn't near the church, nor any of its rubble, and I couldn't find her by any of the cars. I decided to check the tree line where I found her last, across from the lot. She was holding something, and though I couldn't see what, she was staring at it.

It was there I found her, standing with her side against the chaos.

"December," I urged. "You need to get out of here."

She stood with the bundle against her but said nothing. I stepped towards her. "Damn it, December, we need to go! Come on!"

Her head slowly turned towards me, eyes mute of any emotion. The bundle in her hands, I now saw, was a girl's body. I had seen her talking to December the other day. Looking back at December, I saw no remorse. I saw no pain in her face. My eyes fell on her neck, which was covered only by the wet fur on her coat. I reached forward and brushed it away.

The symbol was carved into her skin.

December wrinkled her nose, the first expression I had seen her make. "Show me to your residence," he said.

I shook my head. "You didn't," I mumbled. "He was hunting you."
"Not anymore." She flung the body over her shoulder. "Now go. I'll follow."

I couldn't bring myself to move. For a moment, I didn't believe her.

But eventually, I turned on my heel and slowly walked into the dark mud.

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We made it to the trailer after a rough one-hour walk. But something was different.

A tall boy was waiting near the door, standing. He was uncannily tall, skinny, and almost reminded me of Slender. His head turned to us and stared.

I stopped and put my arm out in front of December. She ran into it, but then stopped.

There were tendrils from his back.

My stomach twisted. Something was wrong.

Was he one of ours? Because I sure as hell did not recognize him.

"James," December mumbled. My head swung between the two of them. "You know him?" I asked. She nodded. After another moment of staring, she began to walk toward him. Before she reached him, she let the body she held fall back into the crooks of her arms.

The boy leaned over December when she stopped in front of him.

He held his arms out to it and moved about, writhing against his own emotion. He twitched and twisted. It was unnatural.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed the body from December and disappeared.

I looked around, assuming I'd see him running off. I did see his figure in the distance, but he was walking. He was that fast, holy shit.

December stood staring at the same spot, unmoving. She seemed to zone out a lot. That girl must have been something to her. I wondered what that boy-- no, thing-- had to do with them. I walked towards her and put my hand on her shoulder. "Hey, let's get you home," I said. She shrugged me off and walked around me toward the trailer entrance. Without knocking, she simply opened the door and walked in. I watched her, but snapped out of my daydream and went after her. What if they were in there? What if they were waiting?

When I got inside, December was standing in the living area, dusty and unlit. Masky stood against a wall in the corner, staring at her in horror. He looked awful; he was severely burnt and scuffed in several places, painted in blood, and holding his shoulder tightly. Half of his face and neck were tainted with black veins. He was shaking his head while looking at me.

"Get out of here," he panicked. "It's not safe."

"It's never safe, dipshit," December commented. She turned to a chair that sat in front of the old fireplace. No one ever sat there. It was old and dusty, shrouded in the clouded moonlight from the windows. She fell into it, then spread her shoulders like wings across the back. Her eyes turned up and glared at the world ahead of her. They were angry, resentful eyes.

The shadows behind her stirred. I looked at who I saw in horror, then looked back down. Slender hung over the room silently like a deadly omen, his hands resting on the top of the chair.

December shrugged. "C'est la vie."