I was struck by my own betrayal. I had been about to leave anyway. I’d beendriven away byKrystan’slunacy,and didn't even givea thought to the nicest, albeitquirkiest,woman I’d ever met.Mrs.Ritshad cared about me maybe more than anyone.
Sliding onto the couch next toKrystan, I slid my arm around her. Normally that would be taking my life into my ownhands,but it was as much for me as it was for her. When her dark eyes turned up toward me, a quiverinher pointed chin, I knew she was bereft of any bark or biteright now.
She was slight but I held onto her for dear life.
“You must be Travis,” the policeman said reaching out a hand to shake mine. “I’m officer Langley.”
“Thanks for calling me,” I said, my voice wavering as I gave him a firm shake. Turning toKrystan, I asked, “WhereareSophie and Noah?”
Officer Langley answered for her. “A neighbor was kind enough to watch them while wesort things outhere. They were up intheirbeds and didn’t hearor seea thing.”
At least that was a small miracle. “What happened?” I asked.
Krystanfolded into my arm further, as if steeling herself. She stared offatthe rose covered rug.
“I’m sorry to tell you,butit looksas thoughMrs.Ritstook her own life.”
I blinked. “What?”
“She took a kitchen knife and well...your friend found her grandmother long after anything could have been done. To be honest, evenifhad someone been nearby, it was unlikely anything could have been done for her.”
“No, I’m sorry, did you say suicide?” I asked, feeling like loose change was rattling around my brain, and none of it was adding up.
“Yes sir,” the officer said, then allowed me the space to process that information.
“It wasn’t suicide,”Krystanfinally said, aredsplash of colornow burningeachpale cheek.
The officer flipped his notepadclosewith a smack of finality but leaned back, not in a hurry to go. “I’m sure this is very hard to understand, and of course, we can never be sure of anything until we get the ME’s report, but it very muchlooks like —”
“I don’t care what it looks like,”Krystansaid straightening, setting the mug down on the wood coffee table with a clack. Hot chocolate slipped over one side as theliquidsloshed. “With kids in the house? She wouldn’t do that. She would never— you don’t understand. Under no circumstance would she do this.”
I removed my arm as she struggled to free herself from the blanket.
Langley sat up straighter, threading his fingers togethermakinga fist. “Since these creatures started showing up a fewmonths ago, it’s been hard on people. Not everyone canhandle this new, confusingand oftenscary world we are living in now.”I couldhavetold him his first mistake was talking to her like she was a child.
“Bullshit. This is something supernatural. You guys need to hunt down whatever did this to my gran,”Krystandemanded, some of the fire back in her eyes.
Langley looked to me for help reasoning withKrystan. I stared at him, close-lipped.
“There isn’t any evidence to suggest—”
“Fuck the evidence, it’s a fact. My gran wasmurderedby something supernatural. What are you going to do about finding the realkiller?” Her tone was bitter and challenging.
His face hardened. “At this time, wecan’t do—”
“Then get the hell out of my house,”Krystansnarled like a junk yard dog. “If youcan’tthen Iwill.Soget out of my house and I’ll do your job foryou.”
Krystan’sbark was back and even a seasoned officer knew when to back away from adogfight.Langley stood up pocketing his notepad and pen. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms.Rits. The ME’s office or I will be in touch with the results.”
The door slammed behind him andKrystanwas up pacing. She was shaking her hands. “It’s the same thing as what got those people yesterday, Travis. I know it. My gran would never kill herself.I know it looks thatway. I—I saw her...but itmustbe something from the Stygian. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” The more she spoke the more focused she became.
“Sure,” I answered, stillstunnedafterseeingthe body bag and a little dizzy watchingKrystanwear a hole in the floor.It creaked violently under her feet.
She stopped and turned to me, her face a myriad of emotions from denial,vengeance, to despair. She was on the verge of cracking. Was she going to cry? Had she already?
“Did you smell that weird burning like we did in the house yesterday?” I asked, barely aware of my own question.
Shaking her head, she said,“No. But that was probably because it was long gone before I came home and found her.” I didn’t think she could have gotten anypaler,butthe barest color left in her face bled away. She swallowed hard. “I need — I need...” she faltered as she looked up at me from the floor. She didn’t know what sheneeded,and it was killing her.
