NO TIME TO DIE◦𝒔𝒂𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

chapter forty seven.

XLVII. SWEET CHILD O' MINE.

☽ ༓ ☾

"I'M FUCKING DEAD, aren't I?"

Given the unusual circumstances Birdie Fowler found herself in, that was very much a plausible conclusion.

She had every reason to believe that she was in fact dead.

She was stabbed directly in the chest, left to die in a dreary, old barn by a demon she had foolishly made the mistake of trusting. And now, her supposed father was sitting directly across from her in a dingy motel room that smelled of cheap cigarettes, stale crackers, and axe body spray.

She had to be dead.

Reese Fowler softly chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stared across at his daughter. It was only a few minutes after Birdie woke up, discovering she was not in the same place where she had taken her last breath. Reese had already told her she wasn't dead, but then that would mean he wasn't her father in front of her because he was supposed to already be dead.

The accident had been all over the news, the reporter giving a rather gory description of what all happened as a result of the wreck. She had seen body being wheeled into a coroner's van in a black bag, who only could've been her father as he was the only person involved in the accident. She had no desire to go and identify the body, so Bobby did it on her behalf. Reese Fowler was dead.

Birdie's narrowed her eyes on on him after he━━━whoever or whatever he really was━━━turned on the light so they could actually see inside the room, fully expecting him to reveal what he was and why he'd taken her as he sat down on the opposite bed again.

Birdie's heart was still beating faster than usual, but without knowing what kind of creature was impersonating her father, she wasn't going to make any sudden moves until she figured it out. So, for now she was going to be as cautious as possible. Her hands were by her sides with both of her feet on the ground like she was prepared to make a break for the door, though.

Reese let out a quiet sigh, tilting his head. It was quite obvious Birdie was ready for a fight or flight situation to occur. That was the last thing Reese wanted. "Birdie, it's me," he said for what was probably the twentieth time already.

"You didn't answer my question," Birdie snapped. "Am I dead or not?"

"No, you're not dead, kiddo," Reese denied, shaking his head at the mere suggestion.

Birdie slightly tilted her head, her expression remaining unchanged. "Then you're a monster pretending to be my dad. And, if you are, I promise I will fu━━━"

"I can prove it to you."

Birdie narrowed her eyes even more, instinctively tensing when Reese stood up. He innocently held his hands up, slowly walking towards the end of the bed. He picked up a bag and sat it down next to Birdie, putting his hand back up as he sat on the other bed again. Birdie turned her head, realizing it was her bag. Birdie didn't remember Felicity grabbing it when she left Bobby's house; then again, she realized she still didn't remember everything Felicity did when she took control of Birdie's body.