get you to the hospital and everything will be okay. I promise.”
The sharpest edges of her panic ebbed. How could she not believe him? He’d never made a promise he couldn’t keep, and if he thought everything would be okay, everything would be okay.
Her dad carried her to the SUV in the garage and laid her across the backseat as her mother’s sobs echoed. Her dad didn’t bother with a buckle, just shut the door and sealed Annabelle inside. She expected his door to open next, then her mom’s. She expected her parents to climb inside and drive her to the hospital, as promised, but… nothing.
Annabelle waited… and waited… seconds ticking by with excruciating slowness, the raggedness of her inhalations becoming laced with the taint of rotten eggs, fetid and sharp enough to nip at her nostrils. She cringed, confused and frightened by the change in the air.
“Daddy?” she said. Her ears twitched as she listened intently for his reply, but all she heard was…
Muffled voices through the glass.
The shrill grind of metal being scratched.
Eerie laughter…
… a grunt of agony.
“Go inside, Saki,” her father shouted in a terrified tone Annabelle had never before heard him use. “Now!”
Saki, her now-shrieking mother.
Grimacing through the pain, Annabelle managed to struggle into a sitting position. Miraculously, the unbearable blaze in her eyes at last faded. As she wiped away the blood, tiny rays of light pierced her line of vision. One second passed, two, then the light spread, colors appearing, blue here, yellow there, until she was taking in the full scope of the garage.
“I’m not blind!” she cried, but her relief was short-lived.
She spotted her father, shielding her mother against the far wall, his gaze darting this way and that but never landing on anything specific. Grisly cuts marred his cheeks, blood drip… dripping from each.
Shock and horror blended, becoming an unstoppable avalanche tumbling through every inch of her. What had happened to him? There was no one else in the small enclosure and—
A man materialized in front of her parents.
No, not a man, but a… a… What was that?
Annabelle scrambled backward, hitting the other side of the car. The newcomer wasn’t a man but a creature plucked from the depths of her worst nightmare. Another scream formed, this one lodging in her desiccated throat. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, could only stare in revulsion.
The… thing was freakishly tall, the top of its head brushing against a ceiling she couldn’t reach with a step-ladder. It possessed a barbarian’s oversize bones and fangs she’d only ever read about in vampire novels, with skin the darkest shade of crimson and as smooth as glass. Claw-tipped fingers dripped with blood. Gnarled wings of pitted black stretched from its back, and small horns protruded along the length of its spine. A long, thin tail curled from the base, ending in a blood-soaked metal spike that clanged against the concrete floor as it swished back and forth, back and forth.
Whatever it was, she suspected it had caused her father’s injuries—and it would only cause more.
Fear overcame every other emotion inside her, yet still she lurched forward, banged her fist against the window and forced her voice to work. “Leave my parents alone!”
The beast looked back at her with shockingly lovely eyes that reminded her of newly cut rubies. It flashed those razored fangs in a parody of a grin—before slashing its claws across her father’s throat.
In an instant, flesh tore and blood sprayed a thin line over the car window. Her father fell… hit the ground… his hands wrapped around his weeping throat, his mouth open as he gasped for air he couldn’t, wouldn’t, find.
A sob left her, formed from incredulity but sharpened by rage.
Her mother shrieked, scanning the garage with wide eyes as her father had done, as if she had no idea where the threat had come from. Her hands tented over her mouth and tears tracked down her cheeks, smearing the blood already splattered there.
“D-don’t hurt us,” she stuttered. “Please, don’t.”
A forked tongue flicked out, as though tasting her fear. “I like the way you beg, female.”
“Stop!” Annabelle shouted. Have to help her, have to help her. She wrenched open the car door and flew out, only to slip in a pool of her father’s—no. No, no, no. Gagging, she fought to stay upright. “You have to stop!”
“Run, Annabelle. Run!”
More eerie laughter—before those claws struck, silencing her mother. Her mother, who collapsed.
Shocked, Annabelle stopped fighting. She toppled to the floor, uncaring as oxygen burst from her lungs. Her mother… on top of her father… twitching… stilling.
“This can’t be happening,” she babbled. “This isn’t happening.”
“Oh, yes,” the creature said in a deep, rasping voice. She caught the undertone of amusement, as if her parents’ murder was nothing but a game.
Murder.
Mur. Der.
No. Not murder. She could not accept that word. They had been assaulted, but they would pull through. They had to pull through. Her heart slammed against her ribs, bile searing a path up her chest and past her larynx. “Th-the cops are on the way,” she lied. Wasn’t that what all the experts on all the reality shows about survival said you should do to save yourself? Claim help was on the way? “Go. Leave. You don’t want to get in any more t-trouble, do y-you?”
“Hmm, I love the sound of more trouble.” The monster turned, facing her fully, its grin expanding. “I’ll prove it.” It began to swipe… swipe… swipe at the bodies… clothes and skin ripping, bones cracking, pulp and tissue flying.
Can’t process.
Can’t… But oh, she really could. She knew. If her parents had had any chance of survival, that chance had now withered to ash.
Get up! You let that thing mutilate the people you love. Are you going to allow it to mutilate you, too? And what about your brother, upstairs, alone, probably asleep and unprepared for a slaughter?
No. NO! With a roar that sprang from a soul soon to be shredded by grief, Annabelle launched herself into that massive, boxy chest and punched at that ugly face. The monster fell back, but swiftly recovered, rolling her over and pinning her down. Wings outstretched, curtaining the rest of the world so that only the two of them existed.
Still she punched and punched and punched. For some reason, the creature never tried to claw her. In fact, it batted her hands away and tried to… kiss her? Laughing, laughing, never stopping with the laughing, it pressed its lips against hers, blew fetid breath into her mouth and shivered with sublime pleasure.
“Stop,” she cried, and it thrust its tongue so horribly
