Page 7 of The Slayer Seduction

It’s my father who answers the door, and I realize that I’m larger than him. The man who’d inflicted me so much pain now had to look up to speak to me. This big evil man I saw in my memories wasn’t so big anymore. Maybe coming here was the closure I finally needed.

Maybe I could finally leave this place behind and try to move forward with my life. I haven’t been able to hold a relationship or a friendship in years and I knew in order for that to happen, I needed to work past this trauma.

“She’s in the bedroom,” he says simply, walking away from me without a second glance, grabbing a beer from the kitchen table and heading to the living room.

I wanted to rage, to remind him of all the hurt he caused, but I also didn’t want to give him anymore power over me. This was the last time I’d ever be here. I wouldn’t visit him on his deathbed. This was truly my final goodbye.

The floorboards protest with a creak with every one of my steps. It’s an eerie feeling as I make it to their bedroom door. It was odd that not even a decade away could make me forget the layout of the house. I used some force to make the door budge, but when I opened it, my mother was lying on her side, facing the wall.

There was no television in here, just an old lamp, the shade browning with age on her nightstand.

“Mom,” I called, waiting for her to acknowledge me. “Fucking hell,” I whispered under my breath. If I came all this way and I was the one to find her dead in bed, I was going to be pissed. My plan was to not leave here more fucked up when I walked in. “Mom?”

“Come here, Adam,” she says in a rasp.

My breathing goes back to a normal pattern. Thank fuck she’s not dead. I walk around the room, stepping on dirty clothes and old magazines, making my way to a vacant chair beside her. The room still has the same stale smell I remember, but I push the old memories aside as I take a seat in the chair.

She pulls down the covers to her chin. She’s older, her skin more weathered, her eyes losing whatever brightness they once had, but she doesn’t look like she’s knocking on death’s door.

My confusion must be obvious as she looks at me with sadness?

“I’m sorry,” she says, as her hand cups my cheek and a sharp pinch hits my neck.

I blink at her wildly, my vision tunneling as I try to put the pieces together of what just happened. The woman who was supposed to be on her deathbed looks as spry as ever.

Every muscle in my body feels heavy, my neck lulling to the side as she approaches me.

“It’s my sacrifice too,” is the last thing I hear before I completely black out.

My throat aches, it’s hard to swallow and all I want is a glass of water. What was that nightmare? I blink open my eyes. They feel grainy like sand is under my lids, but as I do, flames and human figures come into frame.

There’s chanting and when I go to move, I can’t. They tied my wrists down. My heart rate is thumping into my chest as I go to tug the restraints, but it doesn’t do me any good. I’m tied to some old picnic table my father must have grabbed from a dumpster.

The chanting increases and a heavy wind picks up, giving me a chill. I realize then that my shirt is off, blackish-red paint is on my chest in some sort of pattern.

“Let me go. This isn’t fucking funny,” I growl out.

Why did I come back here?

None of them pay attention to me and I realize it’s all my family members circling me, chanting like some sort of cult.

Though I know it’s futile, I keep tugging on the ropes. They don’t even spare me a glance as I beg and writhe, the hardwood of the table digging into my back.

I can’t understand what they’re saying, and my body convulses. Despite myself, tears fall out of my eyes as I feel something inside me change.

A low grumble of pleasure is bouncing off the walls of my brain and suddenly everything fades away completely.

I think I’m dead.

Chapter 4

The Slayer

Finally.

I don’t know the last time I was in the mortal world. The void had felt endless, and I thought my purpose was gone, along with my prize.

I take a deep breath in this new form, relishing in the scent of dirt, fire, and blood. The mortal’s arms and legs are restrained, but I effortlessly tug the limbs, freeing this new body.