Haunted and Holy

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Ambers eyes fluttered open, a yawn escaping her lips. She'd slept well, not having any dreams. Something nagged at her in the back of her head, something she was forgetting, but she couldn't figure out what.

Suddenly, memories flooded her mind, a gasp escaping her lips as she remembered her injury. She reflexively grabbed her side, expecting blood. But there was none. No blood, cuts, bruises or ripped clothing. Nothing at all.

Amber scanned the room she was in, her eyes landing on a familiar figure in an armchair.

Zac lay asleep in an armchair next to the sofa, his head rested on the palm of his hand, his expression peaceful. She was tempted to wake him up, but decided to let him sleep. It was the least she could do for him.

She stood, glancing outside. The sun was just now coming out, fog gathering on the ground. It seemed to be around seven in the morning guessing by where the sun was.

She wandered into the kitchen. It was not a very big room, with a table with seven chairs, a sink, a stove, and cabinets. There were jars of jam and other things on the counter.

Suddenly, she felt something wet nudge her hand and looked down, not before letting out a startled yelp.

It was a black German-shepherd that came up to her waist, it's left eyes a pale blue and it's right eye a stunning green. It had a long grey streak running from its left ear all the way to its hind leg, and was currently staring up at her expectantly.

Amber reached down and scratched the dog behind the ear. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" She heard behind her, whipping around to find an old man hobble in through one of the doors. He had grey stubble growing on his chin and dark green eyes, along with a dark brown wool shirt and black pants.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know if-"

The old man held a hand up, silencing her. "It's alright, child, no need to fret."

Amber sighed a sigh of relief, petting the dog on the head once more. "What's his name?"

"His name is Hiro," the man replied, pulling out a chair from underneath the table and sitting down.

Hiro barked happily at the sound of his name being called, licking Ambers hand for emphasis.

"How are you feeling?" The old man asked, sitting foreword in his chair.

"I know I should say I feel bad, but... I feel fine," she said slowly. "If anything, I feel rejuvenated. What'd you give me, anyway?"

She didn't know there was a cure for Hellhound scratches, which were believed to be fatal.

She'd slipped in and out of consciousness before they'd gotten to the house, so she wanted to know what had happened, and what they had used to heal the wound. She could slightly remember someone– a girl– saying 'Hellhound', and then everything went black.

The old man just sat back, a concentrated look on his face as her rubbed his beard. "So you truly don't remember anything?"

"Remember what?" Amber heard behind her, turning to see Zac wander in the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His blue gaze landed on Amber. "You're up early."

She stood. "Yeah, I got a good nights rest."

"Me and your friend where just talking about what she remembered from last night," the old man explained, motioning for both of them to take a seat. After they got situated, he asked Zac," do you mind explaining what happened exactly?"

Zac nodded, a serene expression on his face. He explained from the beginning, up to the part were Amber had blacked out. But then he said something that surprised her.

"And then her body started glowing– really bright. Almost like the sun. It was this purple light, and then when it ended, she was fine. It was as if nothing had happened," he said. Both him and the old man stared at her, as if waiting for her to explain.

But she didn't know how. She'd never heard of anything like what they were saying, and couldn't help but find herself staring at her side in curiosity.

She laid a hand on it, and she could feel something thrumming just underneath her skin, like blood rushing fast lay through your veins.

"What's goin' on?" Amber heard someone ask, their words slurred from sleep. She turned to see a girl walking down the stairs.

"Well look who decided to join the party," the old man chuckled. He motioned for her to take a seat before continuing.

"Zac, this is Tess my granddaughter," he said, then turning to Amber and smiled. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I've been a terrible host. What's your name, dear?"

"Amber, sir, my name is Amber."