Is This the End?

Chapter Eight

Vanessa

I focus on Nate and just hope this is all a horrible nightmare. I mean, it's possible. Maybe I'm still sleeping, and in a moment he'll wake me, and the sun will be shining. But I always believed the truth would set a person free. Sadly it all makes sense. The weird bleeding. His night vision and the hearing. I could have sworn strength was a werewolf thing, but that must have been my wishful thinking coming out.

Not unlike that of a raging fire. It's like a living fire is staring back at me. Then I notice the veins darkening more and more as the seconds pass. The veins aren't enlarged or anything of the sort; they just lie there like normal veins. I look for the monster that I'm supposed to be observing, and yet Nate is all I see.

"You know," he pauses to lick his lips, "don't cha."

"Well, I'd hope so, or I might be a little dimwitted." He doesn't laugh but instead leans down until our noses are nearly touching. I'm suddenly aware that four creatures are standing behind us, waiting for him to devour me. Yet I'm not afraid of this man who has gone out of his way to make me as comfortable as one can be in our situation and survive. Even when the easy option would be to leave me, and I refuse to doubt him now.

He looks at me, and his mouth gapes open and closes as if he can't find the words. He moves even closer and rests his forehead against mine and lets out a heave of relief, and if not for his hands resting by my head, I have no doubt he'd rest his whole weight against me. As though he doesn't weigh a ton of bricks. This man is completely out of his mind. Eventually, he moves his head to my shoulder, and I peak at the other Bobbies and see them twitching and fidgeting.

"Hey, Witchy, did you know?" His voice is right by my ear but any softer, and I would have missed his words. "Bobbies are easily killed with fire." I tightly fist my hand and think of all the trouble they've made for us. Attacking Nate. Laughing as though the whole thing was a joke to them. That cut I had seen was deep, and if I didn't know any better, I would say it was bone-deep.

I look at them and feel a heat spreading from my chest to my fingertips. Without lifting a finger, the girl who once held me back is enlightened in flames. She screams high pitched and tries in vain to pat herself down.

She starts to roll on the ground as chunks of flesh begin to melt off and sags to the ground. After some time, she quiets, and there are no more movements. Their spokesperson looks up, and his face is scrunched up and the same eyes that Nate sports look back at me. But these are cold as glaciers. I see death staring me in the face.

His mouth drops, and sharp fangs are seen as his mouth extends far past humanly possible. He runs at us-me-but Nate swiftly meets him, and they go rolling. They each get several hits, and cracks feel the air. For a moment, I fear for Nate when the Bobby sinks his fangs on his shoulder and refuses to let go. Nate brings his elbow up and keeps jabbing him in the face until he releases his hold.

"Hey Witchy," Nate stands and puts his foot to the other's throat and leans down. "The next best method to killing a Bobby is chopping their head off. Honesty is my preferred method. Nothin' else gets the job done right." With a quick jerk of his muscles, Nate slams his foot onto his throat over and over again. I crave to look away from the violence and the blood slowly pouring out onto the wood.

Something in me keeps my eyes held onto his figure. There's a large deep imprint of Nate's shoe hacked into the man's throat. He could have done this to me, easily ten times over, but he didn't. Perhaps Bobbies get lonely too. I should be worried about the fact that this man eats the flesh of the living, but for now, I'll put that into a pile of things to panic over once we're no longer in danger.