Bloodied Paws [BP Book 1]

Realization

[Addie]

Something about the rubble sparked something inside my brain.

I don't know what it is, or what it means, or what possibly caused my brain to click, but something about the burnt-down house of my best friend brought back something from that night. I'd thought maybe going to her house for a sleepover was just a very vivid dream, based on the fact that I'd woken up in my own bed. But I remembered so clearly the flames of that bright red candle as it was lit before my eyes before I just... blacked out.

It was too real to not be real.

There wasn't anything left of what was inside her house that remained in the rubble, so I just decided to go somewhere else. It wasn't too helpful, anyway. Just hurt to look at. I wanted to go somewhere to be alone, so I just wandered until I arrived at my house again. I should probably be outside, but I really just wanted to lock myself inside for a while. So I did.

I sat at the desk in my room, laying my head on it with a sigh. My hand tugged at the frayed twine that held the white and black crystal around my neck, and I pulled it into my vision to look at it. I turned the milky white crystal in my fingers, my eyes following the splashes of black, a smattering of tiny dots like dark stars splayed across a white, semi-translucent sky. It was beautiful, really - I'd observed it before, but now it had so much more meaning to it. It was the last thing my best friend since elementary school gave to me before she died. That's not quite something to take lightly.

"Why bother with this depressing train of thought?"

I was jolted out of my sad trance, my heart skipping a beat in surprise as my eyes darted around the room. I couldn't tell where the voice had come from, but I definitely hadn't been the one talking.

"Hello?" I called into my room.

"There's nothing you can do, really, about her. She's dead. The dead don't come back."

"Who's there?" I stood up, pushing my chair back to its place under my desk. There was no one I could see in the room, but the voice was definitely coming from somewhere in here.

"You know as well as I do that it wasn't a fire that killed Grace."

"What? Who are you?!" The voice crept into my head through my ears from every dark corner of my room, from between the spruce wood planks of the walls and from the darkness that lurked in unlit corners.

"Someone did it. You did it."

"W-what are you talking about?" I faltered a bit, now a bit scared of the mysterious shadow voice that was accusing me of murder. "I didn't do anything! Who are you?!"

"A name is but a label, and I have many labels. What's important is what I tell you now."

"I'm not listening to you until you tell me your name at least!" I called into the empty room, my heartbeat quickening. My palms were sweating. I tried wiping them on my pants, but more replaced it just as quick.

"My preference? Inferno. That is my name."

"O-okay, then... Inferno..." My voice shook a little. "W-what do you mean... I killed her?"

"I guess you wouldn't remember, huh?" Inferno seemed to chuckle. I felt cold inside, a disconcerting chill running down my spine. "You killed her there. Remember the candle? That's when it happened. You killed her, strangled her in cold blood. I'm sure your brain just cut it out to spare you the trauma."

"Y-you're lying," I accused the disembodied voice, still looking for where Inferno must be hiding. She was nowhere as far as I could tell.

"You innocent child. I'm not with you there. I am inside of you."