Blood Descendant

~~FIVE~~

He is closing in, his breath hot on my neck.

I glance back, but there's nothing.

No shadows, no silhouettes, just an inky blackness that seems to swallow everything.

Fear and panic surge up from my stomach, making my heart race.

Blindly, I ran. My hands outstretched, grasping for something, anything. But there was nothing.

I can't see anything.

I keep running because I know that if I stop, he'll catch me. And something terrible will happen. I don't know what, but I know I can't let it happen.

So I keep going, my chest burning, my legs aching. I'm not even sure where I'm going, but I keep running anyway.

Then, my foot catches on something, and I'm falling.

I try to scream, but my voice is trapped in my throat, silenced by the dryness that fills my mouth and the lump that forms.

And then, I hear his voice, low and menacing.

"I told you, little girl, you can't run forever."

As his words echo in my mind, I see amber eyes staring at me from the darkness. They're piercing, and they seem to bore into my soul. My heart rate slows, and I feel a strange sense of calm wash over me.

_________

Ditta's eyes snapped open, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. She was drenched in sweat, her heart racing like a wild animal. She tried to calm herself down, but her mind was a jumble of dark images and eerie whispers.

Her head was pounding and her heart rate refused to slow down.

As she struggled to catch her breath, she felt a presence beside her. She turned to see Mitchell's concerned face, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Hey, are you okay?" Mitchell asked softly, her voice a gentle contrast to the chaos in Ditta's mind.

Ditta tried to brush it off, to pretend like she hadn't just been trapped in another nightmare. She forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant despite her racing heart.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, her voice a little too bright.

"Ditta, you passed out"

"I know. Must've been low sugar or something." Ditta fidgeted trying to look casual.

"You passed out barely five hours after waking up from your last loss of consciousness" Mitchell's pushed her hand in front of Ditta's face "FIVE!" Her voice increased as she emphasized. "That is not low sugar or 'something'." She said mockingly.

Ditta remained mum as she looked at everywhere but her bestfriend.

"Ditta." She called in a whisper "I am your bestfriend." She held Ditta's hands, which were atop the plush emerald blanket which covered Ditta's legs.

"We have been friends since we were in diapers. We've shared every secret, every laugh, and every tear since our moms pushed us around in matching strollers."She swallowed. "Heck, our moms were friends long before that" She clutched Ditta's hands tighter.

"You are making me worried. You are making everyone worried." She released a breath. "tell me what is going on. You know you can trust me not to judge you or anything like that."

Ditta hesitated, torn between revealing her true fears and maintaining the facade as she stared into her bestfriend's eyes. For now, she opted for the latter.

Ditta's temples pulsed with a familiar ache, as if her head was a drumbeat away from shattering. "Mitchell, please...just drop it, okay?"

She didn't want these eyes to look at her like she was crazy.

Mitchell stared at her for a few seconds more and nodded. Her shoulders sagged and she let go of Ditta's hands.

"Mom called your mom." She changed the topic and stood up. "She should be on a plane back by now."

Relief washed over Ditta, her shoulders slumping in a mixture of gratitude and shame. She couldn't meet Mitchell's gaze, her eyes drifting downward like autumn leaves at the beginning of fall.

She knew she couldn't keep pretending forever, but for now, it was easier to hide behind a mask of normalcy.

"She shouldn't have to called her." Ditta used her left hand to rub the spot above her brows. She felt the spot throbbing as the image of her mother who was also worried about her appeared in her head.

She barely managed to convince her mom that it was okay for her to go on the work trip and now this happened.

"Ditta, you passed out." Mitchell said drawing Ditta out of her thoughts. "Twice." She pushed two fingers in front of Ditta's face.
"The first time, you were unconscious for more than twenty four hours." she said, pronouncing her words slowly, while taking slow deep breaths.

"And then you passed out a second time - less than than five hours after regaining consciousness - mind you." With each word, Mitchell's voice trembled, her heart racing like it wanted to leave the confines of her chest.

Mitchell's eyes welled up with tears. "I watched you collapse, Ditta. I watched you sleep for two days. And all you can say is that we shouldn't have called your mom?"

"I watched my 'sister' -" she said with a mocking tone. "Collapse in front of me and then remain unconscious for two days" A tear slid down her face as she whispered. "It's okay if she keeps mum about what's going on." She shrugged. "Heck, it's okay if she doesn't care that I and my mom were worried sick about her during this time."

She slowly sat on the bed and clutched Ditta's shoulders, while Ditta looked away, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Ditta" Mitchell continued. "The doctor said you were fine. They couldn't find anything wrong with you, but you were burning up and refused to wake up." Her voice cracked.

"And all you can say is that we shouldn't have called your mother?" She asked in a whisper.

"I... I-" Ditta stammered. She did not know what to say.

She and Mitchell were practically sisters and even closer than real sisters and before all this crazy stuff, she had never lied to her.

But recently, she seemed to have been lying to everyone.

Ditta looked at the look in her bestfriend's eyes and her shoulders sagged.

Ditta's eyelids drooped, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she exhaled a weary sigh. She was tired and just wanted to let go.

She looked from her hands to Mitchell and back. She squared her shoulders and sighed.

She had made a decision.