Cassandra: And they all fall down

by Julie Hodgson

  On one of the occasions when Cassandra and Bindi were alone in her private room, heaving with flowers and cards, with the constant beep of Bindi’s heart the only sign of life, Cassandra took her hand and made her a promise.

  “I’ll get him, the one that got away,” she told her. “I’ll get him, and I’ll make him suffer even worse. And then we can go back to the way things were. I’ll take care of everything, Bindi. I promise.”

  She told her everything now. She had no reason not to, and it was a relief to finally talk about it all – how her body had been changing and her senses heightened, how she had become a creature with the power to avenge suffering and tear these men to shreds. She held nothing back.

  News of the night at the party was everywhere, and Cassandra was relieved not to have to face it at school. Ellen and John told her to take as much time as she needed and the school was in agreement. She had been offered therapy and promised to take it up, but asked for a little time to herself before she did that. Now, with all the time in the world to kill, her only focus was the beast within her and how she could find the last of the attackers and make him pay for what he had done to her friend and the other girls in Garden City. But she wasn’t the only one now interested in what was going on inside of her. The Guardian of the City was giving daily updates of what they were calling ‘wolf watch,' although experts had confirmed that the damage couldn’t have been inflicted by a wolf. They reported various flawed theories about what could have caused such savage violence and then focused on the practicalities. Traps were being set around the town limits and wooded areas to catch the beast; the curfew was still in place, but with the addition imperative only to leave the house after dark if it were absolutely crucial. Between the attacks and the beast, the whole town was in a frenzy. In fact, residents were far more terrified of the thought of a monster on the loose than of a teen rapist. Bindi’s assault and subsequent condition was far less newsworthy than the beast with the ability to tear humans apart, even if the humans were scum. And the world completely turned on its head when the identities of the low-life rapists she had erased were finally revealed.

  Police can now confirm the identities of the two victims killed in the wolf attack: sixteen-year-old Abe Johnson, a student at Garden City High, and Jason Notts, an eighteen-year-old college freshman.

  Cassandra couldn’t speak as she read the paper. Firstly, she knew Abe Johnson. He was in a few of her classes. They had never spoken more than a few words to each other, but she knew him all the same. He was normal. He was just one of the guys. He played football and dated the girls she knew. He had a beautiful smile, and she knew the other guys liked to take the piss out of him because he often wore the same Cowboys T-shirt. Such a small and insignificant detail of a life. How can we ever really know anybody? He was normal and nice and one of the guys, but it was all a lie. He was a rapist, a monster, a piece of shit on the shoe of humanity. She wondered which one of the two masked men she had slaughtered was him, but it didn’t matter at all, and she felt absolutely no remorse for what she had done. She would do it again and again and again to keep her friends and family safe. And she really would do it again when she found the guy that got away. The identity of the rapists didn’t concern her as much as the use of the word victims. Victims? How were these guys now victims? Their crimes were now secondary to their demise and not even mentioned in this piece, which again went on to reassure the people of Garden City that traps had been set, precautions had been taken, and the town would be free from this beast before they knew it. Hadn’t they noticed that it was the bad guys who ended up as food for the woodland scavengers?

  Cassandra went to the police station to make her statement but was unable to tell them anything she hadn’t told Captain Barnsley. Other than that, she spent most of the week alone in her room. She had arranged to meet Braydon on a Tuesday evening, but he called and canceled. The same happened on Thursday, but it was the last thing concerning her. She had spent the week focusing her mind and trying to summon the beast inside of her, which stubbornly refused to emerge. She found, however, that with gentle meditation, she could access her heightened senses. They didn’t have the all-consuming force when she took this route to experiencing them, and it gave her more power than she had ever had before. She would sit on the floor with her legs crossed and the torn backs of her hands resting on her knees, just as Bindi had taught her when they had explored meditation together, and she would allow her mind to drift to a place where there was absolutely nothing. It was barren and empty, but also comforting and still. Once there, she would set her senses free, and they would deliver their messages to her with greater speed and accuracy than that of an ordinary human. She found that she could hear conversations in her neighbor’s houses and cars driving in the neighboring streets. And these sounds existed side-by-side rather than on top of each other or as an attack on her, so she was easily able to tolerate them. She could smell what her mother was preparing for dinner downstairs. In fact, she could smell her mother’s perfume if this was what she focused on. Her parents checked on her regularly while she was in her room and because her senses were so sharp, she knew when they were coming and made sure she was always found with a book in her hand or sitting in front of a movie. Then she was back to her lotus position, and by the end of the week, she had almost completely mastered control of her senses, which she was now determined to use to track the loose attacker. She took her mind back to that night and relived everything she had experienced about this guy; she had no idea what he looked like, but the disgusting smell of him would always stay with her – a sickening concoction of arousal and anticipation. This memory was a rag of clothing for the sniffer dogs inside of her. The moment it reappeared on her radar she would know it … and it finally happened exactly a week to the night of the party.

  Cassandra had been asleep, but she slept lightly now. She didn’t need as much sleep as she had previously, and her body had been on alert since the attack. He was there. She knew it before she even opened her eyes. She had been waiting all week for that smell, and now it was there. It was faint, but it was there. Repulsively dragging her back to the clearing in the woods. She sat up and closed her eyes. This wasn’t like before when she had been bludgeoned by her senses and compelled to run towards the desperate cry of the abused. She was in control now. Her senses were definitely heightened, but it was on her terms, and there was no crying to be heard. She quickly forced her legs into her jeans, threw on her jumper and slipped her feet into her sneakers, and then, with no pause for thought, she crept down the stairs and out of the front door. It was long past midnight and her parents were sleeping soundly. This she knew because she had felt the rhythm of their slumber and the purring of their snores as she had slept. Once outside, she broke into a run, led by her nose. She sprinted faster and with less effort than she had even used in the race, pounding the sidewalk and kicking up the midnight dust. She knew exactly where she was headed before she even set off. Her senses told her; she could almost see him in his white mask and dark clothes, stalking for prey in Jenson’s Park. He would receive the shock of his life when it was Cassandra he found instead.

  She eventually reached the park and was plunged into darkness as she jumped the fence and moved further away from the street lamps, but this was of no concern. She didn’t need light to sniff him out, and the gentle glow of the moon would guide her justice. She slowed to a walk and slunk in amongst the trees, moving slowly to where she knew he would be. And then she saw him, but she hung back because she hadn’t been expecting what she saw. He wasn’t alone. There were two of them, masked and poised to attack. How could it be? Maybe there were four of them that night, and two had escaped. Thankfully, there was no girl. Not yet. She had got there in time.

  “What about the beast?” she heard one of them say.

  “Screw the beast. The papers are making it up to scare us.”

  “So, what happened to Abe and Jay then?”

  “Who knows? Who care
s. Are you some kind of pussy or something?”

  “No, but–”

  “Well, come on then.”

  It was as they began to move away that Cassandra began to feel a powerful, familiar sensation ascending her body, and she jumped out of her hiding. She powered her fists out in front of her and just as before. The barbed tendrils burst through the flesh and slashed at their prey, taking out their eyes through their masks, dragging their organs out of their bodies, tearing at the flesh and butchering them until, once again, they were mutilated beyond recognition. She exercised more restraint this time, stepping back and allowing the might of her tendrils to do the work, fully in control. Whatever she willed them to do, they did, and she would be lying if she didn’t admit that she loved every second of it. It quenched something so deep inside of her so much more thoroughly than eating two Big Mac meals or a fridgeful of food. It wasn’t about eating at all. It was blood and justice.

  After almost an hour, she beckoned her weapons towards her and watched as they swished back into the backs of her hands like the flex of a vacuum cleaner. Her hands were covered in blood now, hers and the dead perverts’, but this wasn’t like the week before in the clearing when she had got carried away and completely lost herself to vengeance. She could easily leave the scene this time and disappear into the night without a soul ever knowing she was there.

  She was up early the next day and out the door before Ellen could persuade her to have breakfast. She ran all the way to the hospital, burst in through the double doors, and only slowed when she reached Bindi’s room. She peered in through the glass before she entered and could already see that nothing had changed. She was still lying in the same position, with the same tubes and stitches and bandaged. Cassandra swallowed hard and gently pushed the door open then took a seat beside her. She looked around her to make sure no one was listening, then quietly said, “I did it. I killed him and another guy. I don’t know who they were, but they were about to do the same to another girl, and I stopped them, Bindi. They’ll never hurt another living soul.” She paused for Bindi to respond, even though she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She half-expected her to wake up at the news as if she had been locked in a spell that Cassandra had broken, but the heart monitor machine beeped on and her best friend’s eyes remained completely closed. Cassandra waited hopefully, but she could feel her shoulders sinking and the energy draining from her. “Do you think I’m a freak?” she then asked sadly and reached out to take Bindi’s hand. “I know you wouldn’t approve of the violence, but even you can see they deserved to die.” Still nothing from Bindi. “I am a freak, I guess. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know how I got like this. I didn’t choose to be like this. I don’t want it, Bindi, but thankfully it’s all over now.” She felt tears on her cheek. She had felt so excited when she came in to tell Bindi the news, but her heart was sinking by the moment. But then she sat up straight and wiped her tears away. “So, it all starts here,” she told her friend with renewed strength. “All you need to do is wake up, and we’ve got our whole lives in front of us. Just wake up now, Bindi. Come on! Wake up!” She had tried to be brave, to rouse her friend and show her she could be strong, but her head dropped down to the bed, and she collapsed into tears again. Her sobs were relentless, and she hadn’t even seen them coming, but the despair completely overtook her. She thought she might stay there forever, with such a powerful sadness running through her body; she almost wanted to stay there, just being with the intensity of her emotions for as long as she needed it, but after a few minutes she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw her mom standing behind her.

  “Mom?”

  “It’s okay, Cass,” she said and pulled Cassandra towards her.

  Now Cassandra had no control whatsoever over the tears, and they flowed freely as her mom held her close. Very slowly and gently, Ellen loosened her grip and sat down beside her daughter, her arm remaining around her while the last of her sobs spluttered out of her.

  “How long have you been there?” Cassandra asked when she found her voice again.

  “Not long,” Ellen answered softly. “Look, Cass, I have something to say to you.” She pulled her arm away so Cassandra could sit up and see her face as she spoke. “I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she said with a supporting smile on her face, “but I need you to know I’m here for you. I know …” She stopped as if the words were difficult to say. “I know there’s something different about you. I’ve known from the moment I could feel you inside me.”

  “You’re scared of me,” Cassandra said sadly, and it was the first time she had genuinely acknowledged this, but her mother shook her head and pulled her in for another hug when she said this.

  “How can you think such a thing? You’re my daughter. I’m scared for you sometimes, and curious, but I’m never scared of you. How could I be scared of you? But I know, Cassandra, that there’s something different about you, and I know you haven’t told the police everything you know about that night. I also know there’s a reason for that. I just want you to know that when you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll listen and whatever’s going on we can sort it out together. I love you so much, my beautiful girl.” Now Ellen was in tears, and the mother and daughter embraced once again. At that moment, there was no such thing as a beast, no violence or attacks; there was only love, and Cassandra felt like the luckiest girl alive.

  “Why don’t you give Braydon a call?” Ellen asked, drying her eyes. “You must have missed him this week.”

  “I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up a couple of times this week, and he’s canceled. Maybe he doesn’t want to see me anymore, you know, after what’s happened.”

  “Has he been in touch?”

  “Sure. We’ve been messaging each other. Actually, he’s messaged me a lot, but I’ve been in a strange space.”

  “There you are, then. He’s probably thinking the same about you, that you’ve gone off him. Give him a call, arrange to go out and get some ice cream or apple pie or something. You can’t make Bindi wake up by putting your life on hold. She wouldn’t want that.”

  Cassandra looked across at her sleeping friend and knew her mom was right. Bindi had more life in her than anyone she knew, and she would want her to go on living, even if she was a violent, freaky frankenbaby monster.

  “I bought you these by the way,” Ellen added and pulled a store bag from her pocket.

  “What are they?”

  “They’re for your hands.”

  Cassandra looked inside and saw three pairs of black, discreet, fingerless gloves. She looked back to her mother, trying to look puzzled as if she didn’t know why her mom had bought them, but, again, she was terrible at being anything other than honest with her.

  “I figured you could use them.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two More Dead in Animal Attack

  The mutilated remains of sixteen-year-olds Samuel Nightingale-Remington-Blue and Marcus Bulstradt were discovered in Jenson Park last night. The youths were viciously torn apart by the beast of Garden City and police warn residents to stay indoors until this savage creature is destroyed.

  Victims? Cassandra wanted to contact the hack who had written the sensationalist article and set the record straight, but she knew she couldn’t. Victims? Again? How could a couple of rapists be described as victims? These were hard, cold beasts. She was not the creature; it was these two perverts who were on the wrong side of the law. Of course, there was no girl there this time, but what was she supposed to do? Wait for them to actually rape a girl before attacking? Wasn’t prevention better than cure?

  She had glossed over the article at first glance and the word ‘victims’ had jumped out at her. Now it was only the names she saw. Samuel Nightingale-Remington-Blue. It wasn’t a name that instantly resonated with her, but she knew she knew him. Nobody used that name. It was a running joke. It was just too long. No one even used his first name for some reason. This was Spike Blue, the Eng
lish kid from her lit class, the guy who flashed his ass on the roof of iCandy and threw a window through McDonald’s window at the mall. Spike Blue was a rapist? He always seemed a little bit crazy, but she couldn’t imagine him behaving that way. She had known Spike since he arrived in Garden City a few years before from England. They had never been friends, but she had laughed at his antics and always saw him as the class clown rather than a danger. However, the evidence was there to see. She had killed him because he was going to go out and rape a girl. She would do it over and over again if it meant keeping the women of Garden City safe. Some small part of her wanted to feel remorse for what she had done, but she just couldn’t.

  She tossed the paper in the bin, but she couldn’t get it out of her head. She paced around the room, rubbing the backs of her gloved hand, feeling her temperature rising, but she knew there was nothing she could do about any of it, and she also knew now that it was definitely over, and this was what she had to tell herself now to calm herself down. Today’s newspaper will be tomorrow’s trash, and with no further reason to use her insane abilities, they would have nothing else to write about anyway. The reports would eventually peter out and residents would have to accept that their beast had moved on. End of story.