The Khigir Hunters

31. Burgundy Eyes

The Book of Omens Sam had given me was officially confiscated and returned to the library. Damn Leon. I threw my fists down into my mattress in frustration. It was foolish of me, truly. I was so caught up with Sam that I disregarded my brother's weird behavior and the bizarre events happening to me. I looked at my nightstand, my brand new lamp staring back at me silently. There was still no explanation for it shattering that day.

Still no explanation for my brother's conversation. 'He could be dead.' Dimitri had accused. 'Are you sure he wasn't hexed?' Leon had whispered. Just what the hell was going on?

"And why do we have so much damn salt?" I murmured, rubbing my temples. So much wasn't adding up. It seemed everyone was hiding something. Leon claiming Sam was a potential mass criminal wasn't even that surprising considering all that had been occurring. I sighed and walked over to my vanity. I looked at the girl in the mirror as I took my seat.

My hazel eyes were tired, my blonde hair tousled. After everything, I suppose it was too much to ask for a normal family. No, it would never be normal without mom. I frowned. Suddenly, I could see her, picture her standing behind me, plain as day. Just like the last time I saw her. She put a warm hand on my shoulder and smiled sadly. My throat bobbed.

"Mom?" I choked out. She nodded, those burgundy eyes beaming. I set my head on the desk and cried.

-----------------------------

"Yulia?" A soft voice shook me awake. I groaned, blinking back the sand in my eyes. A male face came into view, already dressed for his morning run. Malik looked up at me with mild interest.

"Gee, you're two steps from your bed and you decided to fall asleep here?" I picked my head up from the hard wooden surface. Huh, I guess I did fall asleep here. I shrugged, a yawn escaping my lips. Malik poked my side teasingly. "Come on, get ready. You want a coffee?"

"Sure." Another yawn. Malik left my room and shut the door in the process. I groaned, desperately not wanting to run at this ungodly hour... But here I was, with an unnatural family. I stretched out my arms to soothe my sore muscles. I cannot believe I slept here all night. Fighting another yawn, I looked at my reflection before rising. The woman in the mirror made me pause. Really pause.

Pale skin, nearly translucent. Jagged, torn flesh raised from wounds I couldn't imagine. Sunken, hollow eyes, no longer beaming that familiar burgundy. A barely distinguishable neck, shredded to the bone.  Hair, thin and patched, hanging on by mere threads. This is what greeted me this morning, this... Was my mom, standing behind me yet again. Her skeleton-like arm slowly found its way to my shoulder. Hardly any trace of flesh remained around her fingers. Her bones were cold against my flesh, something completely different than last night, when her hand was warm, lively.

I met her eyes as I did last night. She smiled. I screamed... screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

I shut my eyes with as much force as I could. Willing, no, begging the image to purge from my mind. My throat cracked as I continued to scream bloody murder. That's what this was: bloody murder. No, it was all a bad dream, it had to be... It had to. I barely heard the mirror crack and shatter, barely registered the shards falling around me. I clamped my hands over my ears.

"No! No! NO!" I wailed, still able to see her behind my eyelids. It was so cold, I was so cold. It was as if I was suddenly standing outside. I roared for it to stop, just stop. How could she go from a beautiful woman without a blemish on her to a mangled corpse? She wasn't murdered, she couldn't be.

"Please, no!" My voice tore though the tense air. My tears felt like fire against my face. They were unrelenting, just like the terrors that pursued me. All of the sudden, I wasn't as cold anymore.