The poor kid was clutching his stomach, beads of
sweat running down his face. Mom left Dad to tend
to her other charge. She was in her glory. Mom loved
a crisis and she was surrounded.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” She leaned over him with
motherly concern plastered all over her face.
He looked up at her. Tears were streaming down his
face. It made him appear even younger. “It hurts too
much; I can’t control it.” Ian’s eyes were pleading, like
Mom had the ability to make it all go away.
She was about to embrace him when the bottom fell
out of my world. Sad green eyes and imploring lips
contorted into a mask of horror. Fangs lowered from
his upper jaw as his eyes bulged and reddened.
Childlike desperation gave way to feral determination.
His face thinned until he was little more than skull
and skin. Mom started to back away, terror keeping
her eyes glued to the monster in front of her. He
lunged at her like a wild animal. Claws extended from
his slim fingers in mid-flight. He used them to cling to
her as they both fell to the floor.
A look of pure ecstasy passed over his face as he
clung to my mother’s side. She struggled to throw
him off, but it only made him dig in more. He worked
his way up her body, tearing and ripping as he went
until he reached her neck. Fangs and claws worked in
unison to make the wound. His mouth clamped to
her neck like a starving baby at the breast. The
sickening sucking noises echoed around the small
room. I wanted to run or at least turn away, but it felt
like I was watching everything from someone else’s
eyes, someone who wanted to witness every last gory
detail.
A cry caught in my throat as I saw my Mom reach for
my father. Dad’s chair went flying as he ran to her.
Everything was in slow motion, but I knew he
couldn’t move fast enough to stop that creature from
ripping and sucking her life away. Dad stopped and
turned to me. His hand came up and pointed at the
door. He was trying to scream something, but the
only thing that came out was blood.
I didn’t understand what had happened until Ian’s
face came up over my father’s shoulder like some
macabre spectre, blood and bits of flesh sticking to
his face. Dad was still standing. His brain didn’t
realize half of his neck was gone and it was time to
fall down. Somewhere in my mind, I was screaming,
“Run you idiot run.” At some point, I did stand, my
back against the wall, unable to go any further as I
watched the creature in front of me finish his
gruesome task.
My mother lay on the floor. Her neck was twisted at
an impossible angle and her side was shredded by the
claws that kept her from getting away. She was clearly
dead, but I still watched her chest, willing it to move,
pleading in my head for any sign of life.
Dad finally fell to the floor, leaving Ian standing
before me, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on mine.
I was next. He would come for me and I would let
him because I was too stupid to move. Then
everything changed again. I watched as he went from
monster back to boy. His young innocent face looked
more horrific covered in gore. I wanted the monster
back. I didn’t want this sad boy to be responsible for
what had happened.
The adrenaline drained from my body and my legs
turned to rubber. I slumped to the floor. Ian
stumbled towards me. I closed my eyes, not wanting
to see my own death. His body fell on mine and his
small hands gently stroked my cheeks. My eyes
opened to see him looking at me, blood tears spilling
down his face. When his arms slipped around my
neck, I waited for his teeth to sink in. He was crying
uncontrollably and hard to understand. In between
jagged breathes he chanted sorry over and over again.
What w