The Healer: First Touch

by Amy Clapp

  I shuddered thinking about Oma being here. My resolve to save her intensified as I thought of the unfairness of such a wonderful, caring woman being held in a place like this. But where could she be? The warehouse was three stories tall and an unknown tens of thousands square feet. I strained my ears in the deafening silence but all I heard was the scratching and scurrying of rodents in the walls around me.

  I walked down a narrow hallway and checked the rooms that opened off it. I found nothing but discarded papers, dirt, cobwebs, and abandoned office furniture. I continued my search as quietly as I could, careful not to alert the evil no doubt waiting for me.

  The deeper I traveled into the gloomy building, the darker and creepier it became. I came to a metal cabinet that had fallen across a doorway, blocking half of it. I made my way over it, and then I dusted the dirt from my hands onto my jeans while I glanced around. The doorway led into a large open area where the ceiling reached all the way to the roof of the third story. The light was better in here. There were more windows and most of those had been broken out. Paper and cardboard boxes littered the cement floor. At the far end of the room still stood two long conveyor belts, the rubber of the belts themselves long since rotted away leaving just the metal tracks on the long steel conveyors. A few metal stools were strewn around the conveyor tables, discarded along with the rest of the building.

  A loud noise behind me startled me, and my senses heightened as my heart quickly pumped adrenaline into my bloodstream. I whirled around, half expecting the Fury in one of its many forms to be approaching. But I didn't see anything. Only more floating dust and dirt from whatever had fallen on the other side of the half-blocked doorway. I turned back to the open room I was standing in, my eyes darting everywhere, trying to see everything, but really not seeing anything.

  My heart still throbbed painfully fast in my chest. I had to find Oma quickly before Varick sensed my fear and came to find and protect me.

  "Oma?" I called out quietly. I stood absolutely still, looking around me for any sign of the Fury. I listened for Oma, but all I heard was the beating of my own heart, loud and fast. I walked into the middle of the large room, turning in circles so I could see all around me.

  "Oma," I called, loud enough for the name to reverberate off the cement walls. I waited again. Still nothing.

  Where was Oma? Could this have been an elaborate trick by the Fury to get me here? I was beginning to get a little irritated...and very brave.

  "Where is she?" I yelled into the air. "I'm here. Alone. No Protectors. Where is my grandmother?"

  "Oma?" I shouted again. And then a very quiet scratching noise came from somewhere at the far end of the room. I walked to where the sound seemed to be coming from, nervously looking around as I went, searching for any movement or glowing yellow eyes.

  I neared the far end of the room and noticed three doors, all shut. "Oma?" I yelled again. "Are you in there?" I heard more scratching, even more urgent sounding. "Oma! Are you there?" I ran to the first door and tried to yank it open. But the door wouldn't budge.

  "Oma? Are you in there?" I knocked frantically at the door, silently hoping she wasn't behind this locked door. I heard more scratching and even what sounded like muffled groaning. But it wasn't coming from behind the locked door.

  I quickly went to the middle door, still glancing around me at the wide open warehouse. "Oma?" I yelled, knocking on the second door. The loud banging echoed through the cavernous structure. I heard more scratching and more groans, even louder than before. She was behind this door. I knew it.

  "Oma. I'm here." I yanked on the heavy door. It moved a little so at least I knew it wasn't locked. "Hang on Oma!" I pulled on the door again. The muffled noises coming from behind the door increased. "Come on!" I yelled as I pulled. "Open!" Sweat began to bead up on my upper lip and across my forehead. My hands ached from gripping the metal doorknob. But the door barely moved.

  My body heaved up and down with each breath. I rubbed my hands together to dry the sweat and relieve some of the aching. I heard more groaning and scratching from behind the closed door.

  "Oma!" I yelled. I grabbed the door again with renewed determination and threw my body back to move the door. The door squeaked in protest, but it was moving. With a final groan, I used my last bit of strength to yank on the door. There was a deafening crack and the door opened, dust billowing around me as it did. I coughed and waved the dust out of my face so I could see into the room.

  The room was small and square. There were no windows, just another door on the opposite wall. A single light bulb hung on the low ceiling in the middle of the room. There was only one thing in the room. A metal chair lay on its side on the cracked tile floor. But tied to the overturned chair was Oma.

  "Oma!" I ran to kneel beside her.

  "Oh god, Oma. What has it done to you?" I felt tears of frustration and anger dampen my eyes. Oma's arms were tied tightly to the chair and her feet were tied together with heavy rope. "I've got get you out of here." I pulled at the rope binding her arms to the metal chair.

  Oma moaned again. I looked at her face and saw a dirty rag stuffed in her mouth. "Let me get this off you first," I said, gently turning Oma's head to the side so I could see where the rag was tied behind her. It was tied in a tight knot at the back of her head.

  Grimacing, I said, "I'm sorry Oma. This might hurt a little. The rag is knotted so tightly." I yanked on the knot, attempting to wedge my fingers inside it to pull it apart. It didn't work. I decided to pull the rag over Oma's head instead of wasting time fighting with the tight knot. I yanked on the rag, pulling it up and over her head. Oma groaned again when some of her hair pulled with the rag.

  "Sorry, Oma," I winced, pulling harder. The rag finally slid off Oma's head with a final rough pull. I started to lift the chair to an upright position with Oma still tied to it.

  She gasped heavily, taking in as much oxygen as she could. "Jacey! Get out of here! Now!"

  "I'm getting you out of here first."

  "No. Go now. It is here. The Fury. You need to leave now!" Her eyes were wide and frantic, mimicking the frantic sound of her voice.

  "Not without you Oma," I said as I tried to untie the knot binding her arms to the chair. The rope was so tight it was cutting into the thin skin on her wrist and forearm.

  "Where's Varick?" Oma practically screamed, her eyes anxiously searching around us.

  "He's not here. I'm alone." The rope tore at my fingers as I tried to untie the knot.

  "No, no, no, no," Oma moaned, shaking her head violently. "No, Jacey. You need to run. You're going to be killed. Where is Varick?"

  My fingers burned from the rope as I fought with the knot. I wish I would have thought to bring a knife. "He's not here. I'm getting you out of here." My voice was level, but hard with determination.

  "Honey, look at me. Now." Oma's voice was calm but demanding, the frantic sound gone. "Please. You need to save yourself. They are using me to get to you. Please, Jacey. Just go."

  I stared at Oma, my eyes blurring with tears. I was completely amazed that this woman could be so brave and so level headed in such peril. My heart was pounding crazily in my chest.

  "No," I answered obstinately. "I won't leave you. I would rather die than leave you." My voice broke with my last sentence. The left side of Oma's face was showing the beginning signs of bruising, likely from when her chair tipped over and her face hit the tile floor. On either side of her mouth, raw sores showed where the rag had dug into her skin. I could see where the rope had cut into the skin of her wrists. The sight of Oma's injuries threw me into a rage.

  "No!" I yelled. "You are leaving with me! Now!" I stood up grabbing hold of the rope binding one of Oma's arms.

  Howling loudly, I tore at the rope. The muscles in my arms strained as I tried to break through the strong cords. And then with a couple of snaps, the rope broke at the knot. Without stopping, I pulled on the other rope that held her other hand.

  "Hurry, Jacey. Oh, plea
se hurry, then." Although Oma's voice was still soft, the frantic anxiety was back. I worked on the other knot, until it too snapped and broke at the knot. Oma rubbed her sore wrists as I worked on the binding at her ankles. My fingers burned from the heavy rope tearing at my skin, but it too finally snapped.

  "Can you stand?" I asked urgently.

  "I think so, but I may need your help."

  I helped her up. She swayed slightly and I wrapped my arm around her thin waist, lifting her slightly to support her.

  "Oh, Jacey. I'm dizzy. I guess I didn't realize how weak I'd be." Oma's voice wavered with her frailty. She grabbed my other hand for more support as we walked. Her hand was freezing cold, and I was sure the rest of her body was too.

  "Come on, Oma. I'm taking you home. Jamie is waiting outside with his Jeep."

  "Jamie? Why is Jamie here and not Varick? Did something happen?"

  "No. Varick is fine. The note threatened that if I brought a Protector, you would be harmed. So, I came inside alone." Oma slipped and I tightened my grip around her waist. "I got you."

  "Honey, you shouldn't have come. You are more important than this. You're giving the Fury exactly what they want."

  That's the idea. "Hurry Oma." Is all I said aloud.

  We stumbled through the big room, across the papers and dirt littering the cement floor. As we got came closer to the door that was partially blocked by the metal cabinet, I thought for the first time that we could both get out of this ordeal alive.

  My hope was premature. As we neared the door leading to freedom, a sinister chuckling started behind us. It began low and slow and built to howls of maniacal laughter. My blood ran icy cold as the evil laughter echoed in my ears. I froze.

  "Oh no," Oma whispered.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up sharply, my natural defenses prickling to alertness. But my heart dropped into my stomach as the grim reality of the Fury presented itself.

  We turned to face the creature behind us. My eyes widened as the evil being took shape. I felt Oma shaking, my arm still wrapped tightly around her waist.

  At first the Fury emerged as a smoky mist, descending from the high rafters of the warehouse. Only the small glowing orbs in the middle of the mist gave an indication that the mist was something more. As the Fury shifted its shape, morphing from the dark mist into something else, Oma buckled at the knees before I caught her.

  "Easy, Oma. It's alright." I was surprised at the calm of my own voice. My heart raced from the fear I actually felt. I

  The ominous mist settled close to the cement floor a few feet from us. Then it transformed into legs, torso, arms, and a head becoming an unnatural looking man. The creature's skin was a waxy white color, and its short white hair was perfectly plastered into place. It wore a black suit with a black dress shirt underneath and a black ascot at its neck. It smiled at me, its white lips curling over yellowed teeth. Its yellow eyes glowed with desire for my powers and my life.

  "Well, here you are," the Fury snarled through its yellow teeth. "I see you have found your caretaker. I knew you would come for her. Healers are so predictable." The Fury's arrogance made me brave.

  I took a couple steps backward to put some space between the Fury and us, but also to get Oma closer to the door, closer to safety.

  "Yes, I did. And I came alone, just as you commanded." I lifted my chin in defiance. I ever so slightly edged Oma behind me, my arm staying around her.

  The Fury closed its yellow eyes, its chest seeming to expand as it appeared to take a deep breath. The Fury hissed, opening its yellow eyes and grinning. The eyes were brighter, more yellow than before. "Your powers are so strong, young one. Stronger than I have felt in a long time." I shuddered as I saw saliva drip from the Fury's open mouth onto its waxy chin.

  It was time for my plan to take shape.

  "I want to negotiate with you," I boldly said, raising my chin higher. Even though my voice remained calm, my feelings were anything but calm. On the contrary, my whole body was wired with fear, anxiety and panic. I waited for the Fury's response.

  "Negotiate? What possibly could you have to negotiate with?" The Fury chuckled menacingly.

  "Myself. I will surrender myself and my powers for the lives of my loved ones, a promise that my grandmother and my Protector can live without me." I bit my lip, waiting for the Fury's response again. Would it take the deal?

  "What are you doing, Jacey?" Oma hissed in my ear. "You will do no such thing."

  I held my hand up to silence her, all my attention still on the Fury. I thought I had given the Fury an offer too good to refuse. But as the Fury's mouth curled into a cruel grin, the first pangs of doubt struck me.

  "You foolish girl," the Fury snarled, eyes glowing feverishly. "Your powers and your life will be mine whether or not you surrender."

  "What?"

  "I will not honor your requests. I will have your power and you and your Protector will die." The Fury chuckled darkly.

  Panic overcame my false bravery and my stomach churned with fear. I hadn't expected this. I fought to swallow back down the bile rising in my throat. If I was going to save Oma, I needed to act. Turning, I pushed her toward the door. "Go! Run! Now!"

  She stumbled to the door, reacting from the shove I gave her. "No," she yelled back, trying to maintain her balance.

  "Go, Oma! Now!" I screamed as loud as I could. The panic of saving her consumed me. I yelled again. My hands balling up into fists at my sides.

  I could hear the Fury's maniacal laughter, escalating into deafening shrieking.

  "Go, Oma!" I screamed one last time, covering my ears with my hands to block out the Fury's terrifying shrieks.

  Oma tried to scramble over the metal cabinet blocking the doorway leading out of the large room we were trapped in. I watched in helpless horror as Oma's body was lifted easily up into the air by an unseen force and tossed to the side. She landed hard on the cement floor, her frail body bouncing before sliding to a stop a few steps from me.

  "Oma!" I tried to run to her, but I was suddenly frozen to the ground. Pain shot up my legs as I tried to move them. I shrieked with terror and pain as I stood, stilled by the Fury's invisible force.

  I turned, not of my own volition, to face the Fury. Oma moaned on the ground where she lay obviously injured from her fall. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to plea with the Fury holding me captive.

  "Please don't hurt her. Please just let her go. You can have me. Just don't hurt her anymore."

  The Fury's bony white hand was stretched out toward me; its fingers spread wide holding me frozen in place. My legs felt as though they were in a tight vise and the more the Fury shook its hand, the harder the vise squeezed, causing sharp, stabbing pains to travel up my legs. I tried to breathe through the pain, tried to remain calm. I bit my lip hard to prevent crying out again as the Fury's grip tightened.

  I was suddenly dropped, my legs crumpling beneath me as the Fury's hold on me released. The Fury howled ferociously and I looked up to see Oma's small fists pummeling the Fury's chest as she stood against it. The Fury turned on her and pushed Oma backward with a force so powerful that it shook the entire warehouse. Oma's body flew until the cement wall on the far side of the warehouse stopped her with a sickening thud. I watched Oma's head and torso smack the cement wall, the sound echoing through the open room off the other walls and cement floor.

  "Oma!" I screamed in horror as my grandmother lay motionless on the floor of the warehouse.

  I stood up slowly, turning to face my tormentor. "You have me," I sobbed, tears dampening my cheeks as they fell. "There is no Protector here. You can have me. Just leave her alone." My chest heaved up and down with my hysterical sobs.

  The Fury laughed, evil glaring eyes staring at me. "But we are having such fun, young Healer. Did you really think you and your frail caretaker could stop me from getting what I desire?" The Fury snarled through each word.

  "No," I said quietly, still crying. "I just wanted my grandmother
and my Protector unharmed." I wiped at my tears escaping down my cheeks. But more replaced the ones wiped away.

  "Very well, Healer," the Fury snarled, their lips curling exposing the yellowed teeth again. "I'll take your healing powers and your life now." It spoke as if it were doing me a favor.

  The Fury lifted a white hand, palm side up toward me. Then the creature turned its hand over and started to shake. The Fury shrieked loudly, so loudly it hurt my ears.

  I felt like I was choking, and I coughed uncontrollably. The Fury shrieked louder and the choking sensation worsened. Something was closing around my throat and squeezing.

  I coughed more, my face reddening with my effort. In a pointless attempt to breathe, I pulled at my own throat, desperately trying to free whatever was binding my neck. But there was nothing there to grab. The Fury was using its power to choke me without even touching me. I was suffocating just like in my dreams so many nights before, but this time it was real.

  I tried to breathe, but found little air as the Fury tightened the force gripping my throat. I vaguely heard the dark laughter of the Fury. "This is too easy. Your healing powers are almost mine."

  Gasping and gagging, I continued grasping at my neck. I started becoming dizzy, my vision darkening around my peripherals. My eyes rolled back and I felt myself falling as my legs buckled beneath me. All I could hear was the Fury's shrieking, loud and hideous in my ears.

  As my world darkened around me, I pictured the faces of my loved ones. Oma, Jamie, Emma. Last, I pictured Varick. I tried to say Varick's name out loud, but had no breath. Why did I think I could do this alone? I needed Varick and wished I would have asked his help to save Oma. I realized in the end, I wouldn't be saving anyone. Not me. Not Oma. Not Varick. We were all going to die.

  -Twenty-Seven-