Heartless ones

Prologue

     No one ever knew, and before anything could be done, it was too late. They had integrated themselves into our way of life, our communities, even our homes. They looked like us, talked like us, and gave us no reason to doubt them or think otherwise.
     I remember mother racing into my room, clutching my baby brother in one hand and a bat in the other. My eyes widened at the sight of her. She usually didn't have a single hair out of place. She was perfect in her presentation and tried to appease father's idea of a perfect wife for an aspiring scientist, in a very successful business he would always add. He and I never had a close bond. Now, she looked as if she just came out of a war. Her blouse was dirtied with dark smears my little five-year-old mind couldn't comprehend, she attempted to hide a subtle limp on her right leg, and the mixed expression of fear and pain that marred her face, that was what terrified me the most. She didn't break down around me. Ever. I have never seen her cry or seem gloomy. Shuffling downstairs brought me out of my trance exactly at the same time my mom grabbed my arm and rushed us out of the room. The stairs squeaked under the weight of our feet. Soft voices drifted from the television.
I heard faint mumbling before I realized my mom was speaking to me.
     " Elaine, go find your coat and come right back. Do you understand? Do you understand! " she searched my unblinking face frantically.
    I barely managed a nod, my eyes focused on a couple of sacks that sat on the counter. Where would we be going at this time of night? I decided to listen and made my way to the coat closet. It was only then that I saw him. There, in the middle of the drab rug lay Dad, a deep gash decorated his abdomen and he sported a nasty bruise covering his eye. I searched, glancing furtively around the room. The room was empty though, it didn't add up until I realized it was my mother's doing. She had struck him. I stared, dazed, until his shallow breathing deepened and he started to move. More accurately, his skin started to stitch itself back together and the air surrounding him seemed to shimmer.  Gawking, I slowly backed away. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Where the handsome prince would come back to life after dying; but Dad certainly was no prince, and this was anything but a fairytale dream come true. This was a nightmare that would forever haunt my mind.
     I shrieked and scrambled out the room. Heavy thuds followed in my wake. Many men clad in black military style suits rushed the front door, each one moving uniformly. Mom lay unconscious on the cold floor. Breathing became a hard task instead of a natural response and time slowed down. Tears threatened to fall as I watched the scene before me unfold. I trembled in the corner while Daddy ordered the strange men around. Mom got scooped onto a stretcher and led out of the house. Her body hung limp. A small glimpse of her pale, discolored hand: all I needed to know that she was dead. Tears were not possible anymore as I sat there in shock. They roughly placed her in the back of a van. I sensed, rather than saw, his eyes trained on me, holding the promise of torture in their depths. Dad... no, Rick. He let her get killed. He was responsible for everything, and now I was at his mercy. Each step he took sped my heartbeat and my breathing turned erratic. Slowly, so slowly, he produced a needle containing a murky blue liquid. Its contents floated around unnaturally and fear seized me. I shot up only to collapse from exhaustion. The only thing I could do to remain sane was to face Rick and the facts.
     " You killed her.. you killed mom." 

    Remaining unresponsive, he stepped closer. Feeling cornered, I wanted badly to be able to shrink inside myself and disappear, yet a rage never experienced before shook my body to its core. He was a monster. My own father tore this family apart. He had done nothing but abuse my mother and treat me like dirt. He only brought pain. Anger clouded my thoughts and I shook uncontrollably. Mistaking it as fear, Rick advanced, reaching out with the needle. His clammy hands grasping for my arm. I bit down hard on his hand, earning a slap across my face. He seized my throat this time. I thrashed wildly, and lashed out at him with anything in my reach. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything close enough to use on him.