Weeping Angel: Malvada (Book 1 of the Weeping Angel Series)

Chapter LIII

The next day, I made sure to send myself the video to show Henry on Friday before heading off to school. I texted dad to pick me up after school because I wanted to see Clarice again, despite what happened yesterday. I was confident the same thing or anything similar wouldn't happen, but the voice at the back of my head said otherwise, and the thought made my heart skip a beat.

When we got to the hospital and reached Clarice's room, I noticed mom was nowhere around, which is unusual for her since she wouldn't leave Clarice's side even if the world was ending. When I asked dad about mom, he replied with a sigh, "I don't know. They told me she went home pretty early last night."

"Mom didn't come home, though."

"Exactly. She didn't come to the hospital today, either."

I draw my eyebrows together at dad, trying to call mom a few times, but my calls go straight to voicemail. Dad tells me she hasn't responded to his texts until a little over an hour ago, saying how mom had to do something important, but she'll be back as soon as possible.

I assure dad it's probably nothing as we enter Clarice's room, seeing her lying peacefully on her bed, looking the same way as yesterday. I swallow the lump in my throat, and we walk over to her. We take a seat on either side of the hospital bed.

"Kiddo, it's okay," Dad tells me when he notices my hesitance to hold my sister's hand. "It was probably a one-time thing."

I nod, ignoring the churning and twisting of my stomach as my trembling hands intertwine with Clarice's, giving them a light squeeze.

"Emma, do you remember the time Claire went away for a sleepover at her friend's house in fifth grade?" Dad smiles at me as he strokes Clarice's face gently with his free hand.

I chuckle fondly, remembering my teary face that night. "I couldn't stop crying because I thought she was leaving me for good." Stacy was the real bitch for not letting Clarice bring me along that night. I always took my sister to my friend's sleepovers, and they happily welcomed her.

A tear slips from dad's eye, but he quickly brushes it away with his hand as he stares at Clarice with a broken expression. "I just wish Malvada would leave her alone."

I look at dad sympathetically, feeling my heart shatter. I didn't know what to say, but I didn't want to give him false hopes or empty promises. I would give anything to have Clarice back.

Just then, Clarice's body starts shaking unexpectedly, and dad and I jump a foot apart from her, observing the scene with horror and confusion. I grabbed Clarice's arm, which was strangely cold, and a chill rose up my spine as I flinched, taking a step back.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Her body continues to shake harder, and suddenly something rough and black starts appearing on her forehead and arms, stretching and creating vine-like patterns before Clarice grins wickedly. My eyes are wide with fear, the adrenaline surging so fast in me, I almost puke, tasting the saliva thickening in my throat. Dad and I look at each other with the same mortified expression, unsure of what to do.

Clarice abruptly sits up in the bed and stretches her arm, her scrawny, tendril-like fingers wrapping around my neck, squeezing it with all her strength, and I gag. Despite the burning pain in my lungs, I thrash and swat my arms at her, trying to dislodge her, but she only presses and closes her fingers around my throat.

Memories of my choking dream, the library incident, and yesterday's incident wash my mind like a tsunami, and I realize the message she's trying to tell me.

Dad tries to pull Clarice away, but she roughly pushes him aside, her face furious.

"Your mother should've listened to me!" She screams in Malvada's voice, and I quiver, my mind growing hazy.

This is it. I'm going to die.

"Leave my daughter alone!" Mom shouts, her voice trembling as she rushes over to help me, and Clarice finally loosens her grip around my neck. Mom and dad lead me a few feet away from Clarice as we stare at her in terror.

Clarice tilts her head to the side and smiles, showing off her stained teeth. "With all the hate, love still wins, right? You saved the daughter you resent, Anna. What about this daughter?"

"My sister is like this because of you!" I yell, but my voice cracks mid-sentence.

"I'm protecting both of my daughters! I'm doing this for my family!" Mom wails, trying her hardest to remain strong.

Clarice throws her head back and laughs deviously, and dad warns her to leave our family alone and to not hurt Clarice or me.

"That's too bad, Ashton." Clarice fake pouts before frowning. "Your wife and daughters disobeyed me. You die, if not I. One of us has to pay the price."

No!

I spin on my heel and try to pry the door open, but it's somehow locked.

Clarice's thunderous laughter is booming through the room. When I turn around, something sinks in my stomach.

Her body shakes and twitches violently, and the sounds of bones cracking told me this was the last straw. Mom, dad and I rush over to Clarice, practically yelling at her to snap out of this, but nothing seems to work, and the fear tortures my guts in tense cramps.

Her lips start quivering, and she mumbles something beyond our understanding before her eyes roll back in her sockets, and her body lifts from the bed. I'm frozen in my spot, feeling the oxygen flooding in and out of my chest as Clarice's head and legs low, and her voice gets louder with each word.

No doctor or nurse showed up at the door, as if they couldn't hear what's going on inside this room.

Clarice's body swerves to the left as it hits the wall, and her body falls down like a bag of onions.

"Claire!"

The three of us run to help Clarice, but we freeze in our tracks, my heart thudding at the sight unfolding before my eyes.

Clarice's body was melting away, turning into a gooey puddle of black, bubbly liquid. The hair on the nape of my neck stood up, and I started to feel nauseous. A deep, menacing voice speaks, "I warned you." The gooey, black puddle morphs back into Clarice's body, which was completely pale; her lips were blue, and black vein-like lines were all over her body and face.

I feel tears tingling the corner of my eyes, the impact of her words knocking the air out of my lungs. Her words begin chanting in my head like a mantra as the guilt settles in my chest.

You die, if not I. One of us has to pay the price.

I warned you.

It felt like gasoline in my guts because my insides were slowly dying in the toxicity, the fire burning me out as the realization slams into me.

Clarice is dead.