Random Fits of Fancy

Welcome to the Family (FD)

This is the first short I have written for my rework of Facing Darkness. It feels really good to write again and feel somewhat accomplished I guess? 'Somewhat' until I remember that I haven't done any of my writing goals...alas, enjoy for what it is worth! 

Book: Facing Darkness (book 1 of unnamed series of indeterminate length)

Universe: Part of the A Witch's Debt Series, but focused on Fey. 

Pages: 18

Intended section of the book: a quarter of the way through.

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Her hand stilled in the air. Overhead the crap lighting at the roadside motel hummed almost too loudly. The grime in the air intensified, the wind whipping ever so slightly faster, kicking her black curls around. She did not move even when a fire alarm started somewhere nearby. Something had her spine in a tight grip and every single survival instinct she had screamed to not move a muscle. Fear. Nostrils flaring, the whiff of piss seared her enhanced senses...enhanced because of what was nearby.

Why? Why now?

Why ever?

Even as magic danced across her skin, tickling her sensitive nerves like a feather in a breeze, she stared at the tarnished doorknob to her room. Her home of just two weeks and most of a lifetime. She never thought that this dingy motel would be the place she would ever come running back to.

Three inches separated her slightly trembling hand from the doorknob. Three inches of decisions. To move? To run...or enter? Without moving her head, silver eyes darted left and right as if she could see one of Them. All she saw was a curtain of black strands that smelled of dollar store shampoo. The bland vanilla scent did little to ease the knots in her stomach.

Part of her really wanted to laugh. Fear was not something Sylver felt very often, especially here, in her stomping grounds on Earth. Her world had been turned upside down six months ago and while it had been an eye-opening experience, she had walked away. Their world didn't feel right, even if they said she belonged.

There is no half. You either are or you aren't. You being here is proof enough that you are.

Breathing felt laborious, little clouds of warm air puffing from her parted lips, lingering in the rapidly cooling air. Chicago was not supposed to be cold in the summer.

Was he here? Or another crony sent to lie and spy on her? She had told him many times to leave her alone, that no matter what he said she would never accept him. It didn't matter how many times he showed up and claimed he was her father, she could sense his lies. The cruel little lies coming from his blank, expressionless face as he uttered those words as if they meant nothing, because they didn't. Lies had a strange feeling, like someone was trailing a razor thin blade against your arm, slicing your standing hairs but not your skin. It felt dangerous. Toxic.

In Sylver's eyes, no one should ever lie about being someone's parent. It normally would be enough to send her into a rage, wrestling with her other for control.

It told her all she needed to know when the fear gripping her entire body left no room for that familiar rage.

One of them was here, on the other side of that door. Waiting for her in what was supposed to be her refuge from them. A steady thud thud thud pounded blood to her eardrums as she struggled with what to do. She could run again. This would be the third time since she had gotten back a month and a half ago. The third time they found her. The third time she got away...or they let her get away. Truthfully, she wasn't sure which answer was the right one, and she didn't really want to know.