Cara stood just outside her open apartment door, taking in the place one last time. She did not know if she would be returning anytime soon. Anxiety pooled within her, weighing her down. It was not that she was attached to the place, no, there was no love lost between them. It was more the idea of what was to come that made her anxious.
Ivor was outside, heading to his parked car a block away. That is where he had been before the beast had attacked, keeping an 'eye' on her apparently, when he had 'heard' the commotion from within. Cara still did not know how he had seen her from that distance, and even more importantly, how he had heard her scream, when it otherwise seemed no one else in her apartment did. When she had questioned him, he had tensed slightly and told her that he would answer the rest of her questions when they got out of her apartment.
"Pack your bags," Ivor had said.
"Take only that which is important to you, and nothing more. We have got to be quick, out of here before they catch up."
'Before they catch up.'
Cara still did not know who 'they' were, but something told her she would find out pretty soon if she didn't hurry out.
She turned now, right hand behind her on the doorknob, ready to shut and lock it, unknowing when she would be returning.
Or if, her inner voice stated. It made her anxiety worsen, hearing that voice. Cara was terrible with change of any kind. She did not like the effects it brought upon her; the quickened heart rate, the sweaty palms, the pounding in her head. It was all too hecticly painful. She preferred consistency, a familiar rhythm, a boat lulled by soft waves. This was more like a boat crashing to pieces by empowered waves.
No, she would not think like that. If she wanted answers, if she wanted to find her sister and mother, she would have to let go of the past momentarily, convincing herself that she would come back. She promised herself that when she left, locking her apartment door behind her and walking out the front door, she would not look back.
So that's what she did: locked her apartment door, tightened her hold on the only backpack she was bringing with her, stuffed haphazardly with random clothes, and made her way to the elevator that would bring her down to Ivor, to an unknown future. Cara rested her head against the back wall of the elevator, not noticing the growling of her empty stomach clenching in on itself in hunger. She had been too adrenaline-driven before to notice it, but she was starving, and with the blood loss from her now-bandaged wounds, it would do her no good to remain hungry. She would need to ask Ivor to grab some food before they went anywhere else.
The elevator doors opened with a ding and Cara stepped out, now standing before the front desk. She walked up to the figure seated behind the desk, and recognized him immediately when he raised his head to smile at her politely.
"Will."
"Cara, what can I help you with today?"
Cara tried to form a smile on her face, but when it shook with anxiety, she dropped it, instead leaning her hand up and towards him.
"I'm gonna be going on a trip for a few days, I'm not sure how many exactly," she placed her apartment key onto the flat wooden surface of the desk, "but I locked my door and was wondering if I could leave the key with you? I don't want to lose it on my trip, you know?"
"Yeah of course. Is there anyone you would like for me to allow up there while you're gone?"
The "no" died on Cara's lips.
What if Bree returned? What if she was okay and came back to look for her? Cara's subconscious whispered.
What if...
"Yes. If Bree comes around, let her up, will you?"
"Got it." Will smiled politely. "Enjoy your trip."
Cara tried her hardest to smile back, but when it felt more like a grimace, she dropped it, stepping back from the desk.
She headed out the automatic doors, feeling the hesitation in her entire being as she raised her right foot to cross the threshold of the last barrier holding her back from insanity.
Cara did not keep her promise, Reader. She did look back. It was just a glance, but it was enough: She had broken her promise, and she would pay.
A Note From the Narrator
Here's the thing about promises: Humans love to make them, but to keep? That's another matter entirely. I have been privy to so many broken promises I dare not tell you the number. But what I can tell you is that every broken promise comes with a price, one that humans have no power paying. This is the story of another such broken promise, one that we have barely yet started.
***
Ivor and Cara were seated at a table in Gina's Pizzeria, a small pizza shop in town that hardly ever got visitors. If the look of the stale pizza was anything to go by, Cara knew why that was the case. She looked across the table at Ivor, who had nothing in front of him. Apparently, he had eaten while she was sleeping, and was no longer hungry. The look he bent upon her now though was a very rushed one, urging her to eat fast so they could get back on the road.
She took a bite of her pizza, barely holding back a gag at the slimy texture, quickly swallowing without chewing. She rushed to chase it down with her overly-sweet coke, almost inhaling it, feeling a burn in her nostrils. She no longer felt hungry, just disgusted, laying the slice of slimy cardboard pizza back down onto her paper plate, cringing at the sandy sound.
"You need to eat quickly Cara. We have to go."
Ivor was stubborn.
Cara was just as stubborn.
She saw no immediate danger even remotely near her. They were the only ones in the pizza shop. Even the owner was standing outside smoking a cigar. Cara could see shapes in the smoke, and she busied herself with them as she took another tentative bite of her slice, trying her hardest to ignore the texture of it. She focused on the outside: The weather was wonderful, not too sunny and not too cloudy.
The perfect weather.
It was the perfect weather for a walk, Cara thought as she looked at the people walking about outside. Across the road, a construction worker stood drinking water to cool himself down. A mother walked hand-in-hand with her son, the toddler stumbling about with a smile on his face.
"Cara!"
Cara jumped when Ivor brought his fist down on the table with a bang. She looked about herself, at any nearing danger.
"What! What?!"
Her hand was over her heart, trying to slow her heartbeat.
"Hurry up." It was a growl.
What was actually wrong with him?
"Are you insane Ivor?!"
She ignored the sound of his name flowing from her mouth for the first time, no matter how badly her mind wanted to stick to it like glue.
"I am eating! I don't know if you've looked around you, but there is no - no Inferno lacerta here to attack us. You're the one being annoying for no reason."
The mother and boy that had been walking around outside entered the shop, sending the little bell overhead tinkling. Cara fought to keep her voice down as the mother sent them a curious look.
"We have been here barely seven minutes, and this food is disgusting, so I'm going as fast as I possibly can."
The woman was peeking glances at them over her shoulder now, hungry for societal drama.
That is another thing I have learned about humans. You all live for the downfall of others, are hungry for it. You justify your failures and hardships by watching the downfall of others, even those close to you.
I do not understand.
I beg you to help me understand.
Does it not hurt you? Make you feel guilty?
Are you humans that heartless?
"If you had just taken me somewhere the food was edible, then maybe I would eat faster."
The child turned and smiled a toothy grin at her, amused by the commotion coming from their table. There was something...off about his smile. Something grown, unlike a child's smile. Cara's subconscious sent her a warning, but she was too angry to pay any mind to it, too immersed in her argument with Ivor.
"God, you are so infuriating. It's as if you know nothing about genuine human interactions -"
He cut her off.
"You don't know what I know, so don't speak to me as if you do."
His tone was bone-chilling, dripping with hatred.
The mother turned now to face them, her son turning as well, a leash around his neck.
His neck, His neck, His neck, her inner voice chanted.
"You have not seen what I have seen, so don't you dare raise your voice at me as if you have any inkling whatsoever of..."
His voice became background static as Cara's attention was diverted. There was something happening to the boy's face. It was...tearing apart?
Cara's eyes widened just as he lunged at them. Her yell for Ivor came as she grabbed his hand from on top of the table and, with all the strength she could muster up within her, yanked him to the side, out of his seat. Not expecting it, and confusion mixed in with his previous anger, he allowed himself to be pulled forward, almost losing his footing. It was just the right time for Cara to move him, for their table came crashing down just a moment later. The loud clattering that emitted was not as shocking as the sight before them: Where the table once stood was now a creature twice as large as the child had been. His skin was tinged a sickly green, blood red veins mapping across it. Cara could see them pumping, pulsing, living. The veins were most prominent on his face, looking like leaking blood. They led up into the eyes, where it seemed they expanded to cover their entirety. Tears of blood dripped down his face, an irony of a child's crying.
Cara felt nauseated as the blood dripped further down onto his lip that opened at the contact, his tongue darting out to lick it away. Next to her, Ivor cursed, reaching behind him to grab at his bow and arrow.
Except it wasn't there.
Cara felt a broken dread as she remembered she had insisted that he leave it in his car. With an unspoken promise, she swore that she would never complain about it being embarrassing in public again. She would much rather he draw attention to them because of it than not being able to get them out of trouble without it. Ivor realized at the same time as she did that they were toast.
Extremely burnt toast.
Without a moment's notice, he lunged.
Straight at the demon child.
Cara's hand automatically pressed flat against her mouth in shock as she watched their bodies collide, immediately falling to the floor in unbidden violence.
As she watched, Ivor struggled to gain the upper hand, sliding his elbows on the ground behind him to get out from underneath the creature.
With a tremor in her hand against her mouth, Cara realized that he stood absolutely no chance without his bow and arrow, which meant that she stood even less of a chance in general.
She needed to get him his bow and arrow.
But first, she needed to get the creature off of him.
Forcing herself to look away from the gruesome fight unfolding before her, she frantically looked around, looking for anything - anything at all that she could use as a makeshift weapon.
Ivor's scream of pain cut off her thinking and she whipped her head back around to look at him. The creature's bloody hands were enclosed around Ivor's throat, pressing down hard. His face was a ripe red, clearly showing signs of growing weakness.
Cara steeled herself.
And just as the demon child's face shot forward, mouth open, revealing metallic teeth in the shape of knives, ready to take a bite out of Ivor's pained face, Cara's hand enclosed around her long-forgotten chair, swinging it up and over in an arc. It came down on the creature's back with a loud crack, immediately breaking into sharp splinters.
Cara's wish to protect Ivor from being eaten alive by the wild creature definitely came true.
But what she did not predict in her haste was that it would whip its head around to face her, its bloody eyes focusing on her trembling form, mouth falling into an absolutely menacing grin.
Cara did what she knew best.
She ran.
A Note From the Narrator
Humans love to run. They think that they can escape all their problems by running from them.
They think that they can run away from me.
Kudos to you, honestly. It's a brave thing to do. Absolutely idiotic, but brave all the same.