Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, but I had to take some time to enjoy my summer. Hopefully y'all understand. ;)
Also, I promise this is the last chapter without our good friend Talon. He and Tempest have some unfinished business and it'd be too cruel to leave the poor guy out of the ring any further.
This chapter takes place right after the events of 8B, so make sure you've read up or you'll be lost.
And like always, this story is copyrighted by LillithArchivist, and any resemblance to people or places is entirely coincidental.
Enjoy!
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"Wait!" I yelled at Thatcher. I started to turn in my seat to look at him, but his arm came around my waist like an iron bar sealing me to him.
"Move and you'll fall beneath his legs. Stay still and talk. I can hear you better than you think," Thatcher grumbled into my ear, his tinny voice alerting me that he was more Raspan than human at the moment.
I nodded to let him know I understood but quickly pointed in the direction of my parents' house, all alone on the hill.
"My parents!" I yelled, just as the sound of a roaring helicopter cut me out. Awe filled me as something out of a Hollywood action movie unfolded right above my head. Three helicopters and four small planes swung low above the pack, each machine marked by the City of Wonderland Police seal. My mouth flopped open as the helicopters banked sharply and angled themselves sideways. Men in heavily padded police uniforms carrying large guns hung out from the belly of the helicopters, their hands tightly gripping the barrels as they aimed them directly. At. Us.
If I hadn't been thinking of how cool they all looked, I would've been more scared. Thatcher swore loudly and sent out a command in the Raspan tongue. I swung my head to the left and gasped at the sight of rows upon rows of sleek black furry bodies that dove into the earth as easily as a dolphin crested a wave. Not dolphins, I immediately recanted.
Sharks.
They dove into the earth as easily as a shark breached for a kill.
I gave myself a mental shake at the same time that our Raspan mount jerked hard to the left, galloping up the hill towards Bella Lane. He dug in his back legs as he leapt over cars that had been abandoned along the road, using his bulk to push the larger trucks out of his way like a four-limbed bulldozer.
The Raspan skidded to a halt in my house's front yard, digging up large skid marks in the dirt as he drug his bulk to a stop. Not that that mattered, since the house looked like it had just been visited by a crane operating a wrecking ball. The right half of the second story of the house was taken out completely, revealing the large guest bathroom and the teetering support of the outer walls. On second glance, I saw the tub and toilet were still intact.
But my eyes focused instead on the large gouged out hole of where the front door used to be. Blood smeared across the scattered broken stone told me I would not like what was inside.
Without waiting for the Raspan to kneel, I jumped off and fell clumsily to the side, my left knee protesting with a sharp sting. Scrambling up, I ran half-up, half-cowed over into the house, tripping over the plaster and remains of the front door.
The entire foyer and entrance to the kitchen had been destroyed. The cabinets, tables, kitchen island, whatever we had used for decoration...all of it was a motley of mess under my boots. My eyes searched for more of the red, my ears tuned only to the sounds of my parents' voices. Thatcher was yelling at me to stay put, but I didn't listen.
The house was still and silent; save for the wind blowing through the large gaping holes that riddled the walls and the sound of glass crunching beneath my shoes. Then, as I reached the living room, I found them.
They must've been watching the news or a TV show of some sort, for they were angled awkwardly next to the overturned couch. The stuffing from the pillows was still falling through the air, the air conditioning swirling the soft puffs of fiber around until they fell in the large pools of blood that surrounded the mangled, shredded bodies of my parents.
Frozen in place, my eyes took the images in. I couldn't stop committing the scene to memory, like the mental "stop recording" button was broken.
Snapshots of gouged flesh and splinters of bone poking through the arms that had once held me as I cried or congratulated me when I came home with a straight-A report card filled my brain. Eyes that had once lit up in love or irritation were clouded over and dull. The smell of death and the coming snowfall permeated my senses. I couldn't look away from my parents. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.
It was in those few minutes that something within me went still. My body seemed to absorb the chill in the air all the way down into my soul. When the smell of cloying fruit filled my nose, distracting me from the horror in front of me, the sounds of the outside world finally penetrated into the cold fog of my brain.
The Raspan beast was behind me, the exhales of its putrid hot breath warming my back and neck. In that moment, my body and mind went on autopilot. When the beast emitted a low grumble from deep in its throat, I just...reacted. Ducking fast, I grabbed a large shard of glass from the shattered coffee table and held it firmly in my gloved hand. I turned quickly and made purchase with the Raspan's blank black left eye.
Then I ran. Halfway down the corridor towards the stairs, I found another Raspan, halfway torn between human and beast. One eye was a large, bulbous black. The other was deep olive green, the color of my father's eyes.
My
eyes.
The body didn't move as I sprinted past it, and it gave no sign of life as its companion smashed the frame beneath him in an attempt to catch me. Moving quickly now, I scaled the stairs three at a time, searching for something else -- anything else -- to attack the Raspan with.
Racing to my parent's bedroom on the second floor, I skidded into the master bathroom and snatched my dad's hand-me-down wooden box of barber razors from its place in the cabinet above the sink. Pulling out two of the old school straight razors, I felt like Sweeney Todd when he discovered his "friends."
Seconds later, teeth clamped around my shoulder and tugged, pulling me down hard to the floor with strength that took my breath away.
Flipping open the razor, I looked up into the one remaining black eye of the Raspan and its gaping maw of rows upon rows of shark-like teeth. I had one shot -- and I took it. Shoving hard off my feet from the tiled floor, I angled the razor high and forced the point down through the Raspan's last eye. With the other, I plunged upward through the top jaw and into the skull.
The Raspan realized in that moment the mistake of following me into the bathroom. Its large body wrestled with me and the blades, desperate to escape. When it realized it couldn't go out the same way it came, it lunged forward -- and dragged me along with it.
After a powerful tackle into the bathroom wall that sent us flying out into open air, we plummeted to the ground more than twenty feet below where the back porch came to greet us.
The Raspan fell first and emitted a large squeal seconds after we slammed into the wood planking. I fell awkwardly on top of him before stiffly sliding off, my limbs buzzing with adrenaline and pain from the impact.
