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‘Mom?’ I called out as I yanked my door open.
The sound of objects crashing in the kitchen made me flinch, and I leaped into gear, rushing down the hall to the open kitchen and dining area. My feet thumped wildly as I ran, but my breath caught as I froze in the doorway, struggling to register what I was seeing.
Mom was on her knees before a strange man in the kitchen, who held her head with one hand, like he was trying to crush her skull.
Plates and other items were strewn across the floor, and a photo-frame with us in it lay smashed just before me.
I just stared at the man, frozen in place as terror overwhelmed me, every fiber of my being screaming at me to run. I wanted to look to my mother, but I couldn’t drag my eyes from the man as my heart thundered against my ribcage.
He was staring at me, his eyes filled with the deepest darkness I’d ever seen. No irises, no pupil, no whites, just black.
And he was grinning maniacally.
“Ah, there she is,” he chuckled, the sound echoing around the room.
Just his voice made me start to tremble as my mouth dried up.
And then a faint, sickly green began to seep into his eyes, creating an eerie iris with no pupil.
“You’ve hid her from us for so long, but he can’t hide her from us, not even with your help,” the man hissed, looking like he was going to come after me before he looked down at my mother, breaking the strange hold he’d had on me.
My eyes fell to my mother, and hers were wide as she stared at me. The fear in them wasn’t for her though, I could sense that as I held her gaze, wishing I could stop this, that I could run to her and fling myself into her arms. A chill swept over me as she mouthed something to me.
‘Close your eyes.’
I fell to my knees as my mother’s scream pierced the air, a sound that made me cover my ears and slam my eyes shut out of sheer terror.
The wail increased to an insanely high pitch, and my ears rang as I curled into a ball, squeezing my eyes shut as hard as I could.
I vaguely heard the sound of glass shattering, and the backs of my eyelids lit up, like someone had unleashed a million powerful torches in our living room.
I dared not look out of fear I’d go blind, and I didn’t move a muscle.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or how long ago my mother’s scream had ended.
My ears still rang as I finally opened my eyes and sat up.
The windows were blown out—the sliding door in the living room, even the oven door— all shattered. All the photos had exploded, the glass littering the floor.
But none of that mattered.
Because my eyes were frozen on one thing.
My mother’s body.
I gritted my teeth as I shook my head in an attempt to banish away the memory.
“What became of the man?” Dezikiel asked, not shocked in the slightest by my retelling.
“He was gone,” I mumbled, blinking at the blurriness in my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry, the past was the past, although it still hurt like hell at times.
And yet, I also knew that what I’d seen that day was not something made from my mind.
That man, he’d been there. I knew that now.
“And your hellhounds appeared?” Dezikiel continued.
“Yes. They came before the police did. Someone else must have called the police, because I was still sitting with my mother, crying. The hellhounds appeared, they just stood in the room with me. I felt… safer, with them there,” I admitted softly as I wiped my eyes.
