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Blackwood.
That was one word that kept repeating on and on and on, and it sounded sad, coming from my father’s lips. It sounded angry, coming from my mom, but I couldn’t understand what was happening.
But something was going on, and once I got home tonight, I had to ask her. My mother was hiding something, and it was about time for her to confess everything. I never understood why my father left. I never understood why he never called, texted, why he simply disappeared from my life.
But she knew.
And she wouldn’t tell me.
The hair at the nape of my neck stood up as the sound of the door opening echoed through the hallway. Before I could think about my actions, I started running. I had no idea where, because it seemed that the hallway only led further down into the basement, but I pushed myself, ignored the burning in my thighs, ignored the pounding of my heart threatening to burst out of my chest.
There were things I wasn’t proud of. Things that were done to me and things I did to satisfy the demons that occupied my mind now. But this one tonight, this one might be one of the worst things I ever did, allowing myself to get trapped inside this hallway, inside the house I didn’t really know, surrounded by people that didn’t give a fuck about me.
I could scream, I could shout, but even if they’d heard me, they wouldn’t do a single thing to help me. They wouldn’t even look my way if I told them that there were masked figures mingling with them. Maybe it was a sick joke, but the last time I thought someone was joking with me, I ended up with ten stitches, a stain on my soul, and a body I didn’t want to carry anymore.
My lungs burned as I willed my body to keep pushing, to keep running away from the danger behind me. There was something in the way the figure had looked at me, the way it tilted its head, the dark eyes swallowing all the light out of me, that told me I had to run.
Far fucking away.
But there were no exit doors, no way for me to get out of here unless I went back the same way I came through. There was no way that I would even try going back up. There had to be something. Something I could use to defend myself, something I could use to…
Something like that night,my mind reminded me. The night when I took things into my own hands. The night when the shiny little object, with the shiny blade felt like a heavenly weapon in my hands.
The night when I realized that to destroy a monster, you had to become one as well.
I didn’t mind carrying this stain with me for the rest of my life if it meant ridding the world of that motherfucking piece of shit who tore my body, who destroyed everything good I carried with me. Whoever this was who was after me, even with all this fear, with all this trepidation, I would find a way to defend myself.
I was a victim once, and I would never allow myself to become one again.
My boots weren’t made for running, the soles hard against the bottom of my feet, but I bit my teeth and kept on running, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and the door I came through. Sweat ran down my spine, soaking the T-shirt I wore, while the ringing in my ears only kept on increasing and increasing and—
“Holy fuck!” I bellowed as my forehead connected with a solid surface, and it took me a moment to realize it was a mirror. A motherfucking mirror.
But it wasn’t just one.
There were at least six versions of me, staring back, having the same movements, the same facial expression—my wide blue eyes were filled with fear, with terror. As all six versions of me lifted their right hand, trying to find a way out of this maze, this fucking horror I found myself in, I saw them.
Four of them, standing behind me, or maybe in front of me, but as I turned around, I only saw the same thing as I did facing forward. “No, no, no, no.” I kept shaking my head, trying to move away as they moved forward, but there was no use. They were circling me, predators in dark cloaks, hidden behind white masks, coming closer and closer and closer.
A rope wrapped itself around my throat, the claws of despair dragging down my insides, ripping me apart as the scream tore from my throat, my hands frantically searching for a way out, for something, anything to get away.
“Get away from me!” I yelled, pushing against the mirror right in front of me, but the only answer I got was a sinister chuckle from one of them and the harsh sound of the wind from the outside, slamming into the house. “Let me out of here!”
I hated mirrors, almost feared them to the point where I avoided looking at my reflection. I hated seeing the blank stare on the clear surface and the shattered dreams lingering around my body while I just existed.
“Shhhh,” came from behind me. As I turned around, a pair of arms wrapped around me, the masked figure that I saw first standing in front of me. “I need you to be quiet, Little Lamb,” he murmured, while his arms tightened around my body, immobilizing me momentarily.
The need to kick and scream hit me like a freight train, and instead of obeying what he said, I started thrashing in his hold. My head connected with his chin and my legs started stomping on his. If it wasn’t for a grunt here and there from him, I would’ve thought that he wasn’t human at all.
His hold loosened, giving me hope that I would get away from here unscathed, but I should’ve known that luck never followed people like me. Before I could react, before I could try to get away, he slammed me against the mirror, wrapping his hand around my throat, cutting off the oxygen intake into my body.
“L-let me g-go,” I stammered, trying to breathe through the painful grip he had on me.
“You were a bad girl, Danika.” The motherfucker chuckled, his masked face coming closer to mine. “But it will be fun breaking you.”
The pressure of his hand on my neck increased suddenly, and the black dots dancing on the periphery of my vision had me gasping for air, fighting him, clawing at his arms. Just as I managed to push away the hood off his head, revealing the pitch-black hair, I knew.
“Lazarus,” I choked out, before the darkness slammed into me, taking me into its cold embrace.
