by Nicole Thorn
I turned and suddenly felt like all the blood rush up to my face. “Um. Well, that’s a big dog kennel,” I said.
She was looking out the window, at the thing that I didn’t want her to see. The kennel was made of wire fencing and was big enough that a dog could run around and get some exercise. The bottom was also completely covered in red rocks, with sharp edges. The kind people used to decorate gardens.
“Where’s the dog?” she asked.
“There isn’t one.”
“Then why is this here?” It seemed like a silly question, all things considered. Why would she be wondering about a kennel in the backyard? Why did it matter if the dog was around or not? At the same time, it seemed so right of her to be asking, because of course she would know that something was up, if not by instinct, then the way I couldn’t keep myself from acting like an idiot.
“We should go, my father will come back at any moment and I don’t want you to be stuck talking with him,” I said, gesturing for her to leave the room.
Naturally, she didn’t budge. “Why is the kennel there?” she asked. “If he doesn’t have a dog, then why have the kennel. Did his dog die recently?”
My arm dropped and I knew I had to answer her. Lying was appealing, but she’d catch on instantly. After everything that happened last night and this morning, I felt like I owed her. She didn’t have to try and make things right with me. She didn’t even have to try being my friend, but she still was.
So, I shrugged and looked at my feet. “That was the punishment.”
“What?” She asked, her voice so quiet that I barely heard it.
“When we wouldn’t spy on the neighbors, that was the punishment. He’d tell us to pick who got to sleep in the kennel and then he’d leave us out there all night, after it was late enough that the neighbors wouldn’t notice.”
“Gods…” Kezia said.
“It’s fine,” I said. “The girls would talk to me through the window until they fell asleep,” I said.
“What about when it was their turn?”
“They didn’t get turns. I wouldn’t let them,” I said, simply. “Sometimes, they insisted. Like on my birthday or Christmas, but they only slept out there a few times. Really, it’s fine,” I said. “Can we go now?”
She was still staring at me when I walked away from her. She caught up when I was almost to the door. Instead of walking out with me, she marched into the living room. I followed behind her, wondering what she was doing. If I left the house, would she leave with me?
She snatched up the check that was under the egg knickknack. “What are you doing?” I asked, taking it from her before she could rip it. I’m not sure why I thought she would, but I did.
“He doesn’t deserve that,” Kezia said. “Why do you guys give him money that he hasn’t earned?” She shook her head. “I’m not letting him keep it, so either hand it over, or take it yourself. It might be better if you take it yourself.”
I sighed. “Kezia, I told you that everything was fine. We told him we’d give him this money and it would be wrong to take it back. So, if I put it down, are you going to rip it to shreds?” When she just stared back at me, I had my answer. My shoulders slumped. “All right, I’m gonna go put it in his bedroom. You stay here.”
She huffed and flopped onto the couch, looking irritated, but not with me. It was my father. I put the check on his nightstand, under a coaster and left his room. Kezia was looking through a photo album that he kept on the coffee table when I got back. I tensed again, having forgotten about that thing.
She looked up at me. “What is this?” she asked. “You guys look so miserable in all these pictures. And there’s none of your father, or your mother.”
I didn’t say anything, which was as good as admitting there was something wrong around Kezia. When she looked back up, her eyes were practically burning with impotent rage. “Jasper? Please tell me.”
“He’d take our pictures when we did something bad, so that we’d never do it again,” I said. “So that he could remind us how it felt to screw up.” The words felt like sand in my mouth.
Kezia only looked heartbroken. “Jasper,” she whispered. “That’s fucked up. You have to see that that’s wrong. Right?”
I did. I saw everything about my life and knew what shouldn’t have happened and what should have been done different. I knew. Damn it. I knew that the way my father raised me was wrong, even if I didn’t know it when we were little. I knew that the cage was wrong, that the album was wrong. I knew that I was wrong and my sisters were wrong. I knew it, but it was too much. How was I supposed to put the pieces of myself back together, when I didn’t even know they were broken for so long?
And that was wrong. It’s like I could see how I should be, but I couldn’t reach it. I couldn’t touch it. Everything about me was wrong and Kezia could see it. We’re so good at hiding, but we’re so bad at faking normal, because we don’t know what it was.
My sisters and I were wrong.
“Jasper?”
“I know,” I finally said, my voice rasping out of my mouth. “I know it’s wrong. I know that I’m slowly self-destructing, but I don’t know how to stop. Like I’m falling, but there’s nothing to grab onto.” I shrugged. “I wanna stop, if that helps. I want to get better, now more than ever, but I… just don’t… know how. I don’t know what better is and there’s no one to tell me.”
Kezia stared at me for so long. I couldn’t fathom what she had to be thinking of me, but it couldn’t have been anything good. My childhood wasn’t great, but hers was so much worse and yet I was telling her I was broken? Talk about dumbass, idiotic and selfish things to do.
Slowly, she closed the cover of the album and smoothed her fingers over it. “We should go,” she said, her voice calm now. “Before your father gets here, because I don’t think he wants to see me. No, I know he doesn’t want to see me.” Standing up, she wrapped her arms around the photo album.
“What are you doing with that?” I asked, my voice shockingly steady, considering I felt nothing but raw on the inside.
“I’m taking it with me,” she said. “I don’t want him to have it, so I’m taking it with me.”
We stepped outside the house. I was gearing up for arguing against taking the album when there was a screech. It sounded like a car hitting its brakes, but it came from above. Then pain latched onto my shoulders and I was flying. My back hit the pavement, making another flare of agony slice through my shoulders and into my neck and head. Vaguely, I heard Kezia screaming my name, but it disappeared quickly because I was too unbalanced to stay in my own body. The vision wrapped around me in a cloud of foreign anger.
Vile. Yes. That is the word that one would use for monsters such as them. He didn’t want to be over dramatic, but that’s what came to mind when he thought of them. Vile, ugly, monsters and then the rage came and swept away those things. The rage was the purest, of course.
They had dared to hurt Kizzy. They had been doing it for so long and she… she hadn’t told him. He would have given up everything, including his life or sanity, just to go back in time and have her tell him. She didn’t want to ruin his good home, the one that loved him and wanted to keep him.
She should have ruined it.
This was so much worse. Yeah, sure, they treated him well and they told him he was great and that they loved him. But they didn’t matter. Yeah, he liked them. But they were humans, who he’d eventually have to leave anyway, or they’d realize he wasn’t aging. He’d never have to leave Kizzy and he wished she’d have told him. She felt guilty for ruining his happy life, but she should have felt guilty for not telling him.
The gaping wide hole in his center, the one that screamed he had failed her, was the worst. He’d had suspicions that something was wrong. Kizzy had been acting off for a long time now, but she never said anything, so he never did anything. And now he wanted to hurt. He wanted everything to hurt.
He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. The rage with
in him wasn’t sated, even with the blood dripping off his knuckles and staining his shirt. Some of it was his own, from when he busted his skin open punishing the vile monsters. Most of it was theirs though and his skin was already healed.
They were still alive. He didn’t want them to be alive. He didn’t want them being anything. If the gods cared for their half human children, they would have wiped these humans off the face of the planet. Clearly, though, they didn’t care. Oh, sure, his mother loved him. His mother loved everyone. And Demeter supposedly adored Kizzy.
He couldn’t help but think. She let the world die for half the year with frigid temperatures and dying crops because of what happened with Persephone. Yet, these two humans were allowed to destroy her other daughter? Could that be love?
Maybe he was just too angry to see clearly, because he certainly was angry.
Furious. Enraged. Wrathful. He wanted more of their blood, but his arm hurt and was sore. That happens when you just keep hitting until the thing stops moving. So yeah, he could barely lift it. It would be fine tomorrow, but his anger wasn’t satiated today. That was more important than anything.
He turned slowly and looked down at the monster. The woman was awake and writhing slowly on the ground moaning and asking why. He had long since grown bored of explaining and when she claimed that Kizzy loved it, his rage grew higher. That’s why her jaw was broken and her arm was laying uselessly along her side, hanging on by mere skin. The man was coughing up blood.
He knelt down, putting his hand in his chin. “I’m thinking it’s time to change the game. What do you think, hmm?” They mewled pathetically. “You agree. Well, hot damn, isn’t that fantastic! Let’s see what I can do.”
He walked around the house that Kizzy had suffered in. The carpet squelched in places from their blood and other fluids. He hadn’t really believed it possible to scare someone piss-less before. Guess he was wrong.
Opening a closet, he found what he was looking for. A bat. He pulled it out and smoothed his hand over the surface. There were stains on it and he knew whose blood that was. More rage filled him, even though he would have sworn it impossible. He dropped the bat next to the man and shoved his rage into the bastard. He started to scream in terror, but then the scream changed. Anger overflowing him. Just for giggles, he gave the rage the face of his wife. “Pick it up,” he said.
The man grabbed the baseball bat.
“Don’t move,” he said.
The man didn’t move.
What to pick, what to pick. It shouldn’t be a fair fight, but he wasn’t sure who he wanted to die more. The woman for tormenting his sister for so long, or the man for nearly killing her? They both deserved the death that was coming for them, but who should die first? Who, who, who?
Ah, perfect. He pulled a knife from a block in the kitchen. Sure, one good stab and all the fun ended, but she’d have to get in a good stab. He liked the chances of an amazing show. He dropped it in front of the woman. “That’s yours.” The last of his rage went into her and he gave it the face of her husband.
Standing back, he crossed his arms and whispered. “Let the game begin.”
The couple stood up, holding their weapons and staring at each other with nothing but hatred. They attacked. Ooh, there went her shoulder. And the knife slid into his thigh. He nearly went down, but slammed the bat into her knee, toppling her. Ouch, that was a neat groin shot he did. Bet she wouldn’t like that area so much now.
Damn, behind the knee with the knife. He couldn’t keep himself standing through that. No one could. Down he went, but the bat was still in his hand. They went at each other with violence and hatred that shouldn’t have felt so pure, but was. It was in their souls. He died first, but she couldn’t stop herself from stabbing him. Over and over and over and over again. Blood flew, splattering over her face. His chest became this meaty soup that plopped when she sank the knife in.
When she finally stopped, she was breathing heavily and looking down at what she did. Again, for giggles, he pulling the rage out of her, letting it dissipate in the air. Fat tears ran down her face, leaving tracks in the blood. She lifted her head and stared at him. Just stared.
“You may,” he whispered.
Her hands were barely working now and she couldn’t see out of one eye, since her skull had been cracked around it. Yet, her aim was undying. She set the blade to her wrist and pressed down, cutting through skin and veins. She kept pushing it until there was so much blood and gristle that she couldn’t hold the knife anymore.
His rage hadn’t been sated, but he had done what he could.
I was shocked out of the vision of Zander, panting. Kezia was still screaming and I was in agony. I caught the barest glimpse of withering skin before the Fury launched away from me.
20: When it was Too Much
Kezia
Power, I needed more power. And time. Jasper was down for the count, but that was better. She wouldn’t kill him unless he got in the way. She was here for me.
I watched the winged monster as she hovered in the sky. Her focus was on me now. Fine. Better me than him.
She swooped down at me. I dodged, but not fast enough. Her talons caught my stomach and ripped me open. Blood stained my shirt in half a second and the pain served as a distraction. I shoved it away. It didn’t matter. She needed to die.
I fell, landing beside a mailbox. A wooden stake was what it was perched on. I smiled. That’ll do.
I sent my foot into it, cracking it in a moment. The mailbox crashed onto the sidewalk, metal bending as it busted open. Mail fell out, spreading all over the place. Oh well.
The wood was dead, but I could bring it to life. I’d need to if I was gonna change the shape. I needed something pointy to run the bitch through with. I let the thing grow, because she was coming back for more.
I got to my feet and put as much distance as I could between us. She was in the air above, flapping her leathery wings and watching me. I didn’t look scared, because I wasn’t. I think it threw her a little.
“Red Rover, Red Rover, send the Fury right over.” I grinned, hoping it would piss her off.
I think it did. She dove for me again and I ran to her, dropping and rolling just under where she could catch me. I landed beside Jasper and I winced as my hand found my stomach. It would seem that my insides were trying to come out. Can’t have that.
Jasper didn’t look well. He didn’t say anything when I called out to him. I’d have to fix him later. For now, I had stuff to do.
In landing beside Jasper, I got to my stake. It came out nicely. The wood was thick and I needed two hands to hold it. But the end was as sharp as can be. If I touched the tip, I would prick myself. I grabbed the thing and was forced to abandon Jasper before the Fury could attack me where he was.
I had the thing in my hands and I stared at the monster with nothing but hate in my heart. I was going to die and gods only knew what was in store for Zander because he took revenge for me. Where the fuck were these things when I was eleven and being violated? Why were we getting punished? Wasn’t I punished enough?
The Fury charged at me and when I moved past her, she turned, grabbing me by the top of my shirt. Then I was in the air. Her claws dug into my shoulders as we moved up. Then she dropped me on a fence. I broke it. I broke it good. Thankfully my skin was too tough for it to have torn me up, but it left me with agony in my middle. My cuts were torn open even more. Oh wow… I could see all new parts of me…
The stake was out of my hands, but I outstretched my arms. My shoulders had ten holes in them that were steadily pouring blood. I wouldn’t lose enough to kill me. Not before the healing set in.
My hand gripped the stake and I got back to my feet. The Fury was still in the sky, having stopped to watch me fall. Oops, guess I didn’t land on my neck. Better luck next time.
It was odd, this anger in me for her. I felt like she betrayed me somehow. Letting Parker do what she did to me. Letting Mr. Rivers beat me almost to death each time
he found out. The Furies never came for them. But they were coming for me.
I was on my feet and I was staring at the thing as she lowered to the ground. Her wings kept her feet from touching the ground and I watched my blood drip from her claws and onto the sidewalk. My blood was everywhere. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Then we were watching each other. I stood, bleeding to death, broken. She hovered and radiated righteousness.
“Well.” I smiled as I panted. “What are you waiting for? I’ve been waiting for you since I was eleven. Kinda think you owe me some prompt service, don’t you?”
Then she charged and I charged. I had the stake firmly in my hands. Her talons were extended to me, waiting to get around my throat. We collided. The talons on her feet had gotten around my legs, ripping me open again as they squeezed. Her hands were on my shoulders. I heard a bone snap in me. I made a choking sound when the pain was too much.
Then I saw it. My stake was in the center of her chest. It went all the way through. I was face to face with her when she realized it. She screamed and I ripped the stake out of her with my working arm. She released me and stumbled back.
She launched into the air and her body exploded into burning ashes. Her scream was silenced when she ceased to be. As her ashes fell, I went with them.
I dropped to my knees and fell forward, hitting my head against the sidewalk.
“Kezia!” Jasper said in a strangled voice. It was like there was cotton in my ears. I was hardly aware of him as he got to me.
He flipped me onto my back and I tried to scream, but my lungs had no air in them. My head was on Jasper’s lap and I looked up at him.
“You look awful,” I wheezed, stopping to cough up a few ounces of blood. He really did look terrible. His shoulders were bloody, not to mention the blood dripping from one of his ears.
He looked so scared as his eyes found every injury on me. “Kezia…”
“Just a flesh wound, sweetheart. I’ll be…” My eyes closed and I forgot what I was saying. The healing was kicking in and that was a whole new kind of pain.