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"Swift! What are you doing here!?", I whisper-yelled.
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Swift
She suddenly transformed into a girl, and sat on the bed. "For your information, Catherine, I am not Swift. I am Ziana Xandra, a vampire shapeshifter", she replied. "Oh...", was the only thing I could say.
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We were on our way to the hospital to visit our grandfather. There we suddenly saw our grandmother, standing in the middle of the streets. We got down and rushed towards her. But it was too late. She took a deep breath, as the speeding truck rode over her. And that was the last time I ever saw her. She was completely squashed. Her eyes had popped out, teeth shattered by the force. She looked miserable. We cried our hearts out, especially me. She was the only person who taught me how to use a gun. She also took me to shooting arenas in the early mornings. We played, danced, and had loads of fun. We finally burried her, weeping. But suddenly, something struck my mind. Why did she commit suicide? When I asked my father, he advised me not to worry about it. The next morning we heard from the hospital that our grandfather had passed away. "I think grandma committed a suicide because of grandpa's nearing of death....", Trix said. "I think so.... You can be a wonderful detective, darling....", our mother said. "No! It's not because of that..... There was something else. I saw the last reaction on her face. It was a face filled with pain, and she looked so frail and fragile.... She was tortured!....", I said sternly. " 'Torture' is a very harsh word, Catherine! Never ever use it again!", our mother scolded me. "Don't create rumors or 'stories', silly!", Trix taunted. "So! Great! Mother and father always supports Trix! Got it!", I countered back. "It's not like that dear.... It's just that....", our mother blabbering something, as I made my way back to the bedroom, disappointed in the ones I loved the most. I entered the bedroom to see Ziana again. "They are your fake parents.... Of course they wouldn't be impartial....", she muttered. "What do you mean!?", I asked, surprised and perplexed at the same time. "Oh... Nothing....", she replied calmly.
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The next morning, I asked Iris if she would accompany me to the old house of our grandparents. She willingly agreed. I got swift along with me. No one knew that she wasn't a cat-beast. It was only me and my grandma. I, myself got to know the day before. I requested Aunt Portia to drive us there. When she wanted to know why, I lied fluently that I had left a photo frame in that house the last time I had come to pay a visit during Christmas. She gave us a curt nod as she ran outside, holding the car keys in her right hand. We quickly followed her, as we sat in the back seat of the car. And then zoom! We drove off!
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We rushed into the damaged gate way. "Why is this house so damaged?", quizzed Aunt Portia. Curiosity got the better of us, as we barged through the door without hesitation. "Cathy", Iris said before everything was so muffled and almost inaudible. Suddenly, everything paused, as if time had stopped. I couldn't hear anything apart from seeing the ragged doll. She was taller than me and she didn't look like a tiny abandoned doll anymore. I was prepared to face the worst, until her face turned anxious; it portrayed urgency. "Your grandma didn't sucide....Instead she was murdered by the 'Witch of Alaska'....", she informed me. I pursed my lips and scowled at her. "It's no lie.... It is the truth. She couldn't bear the torture Willow had given her, and so she committed suicide. Your grandfather was poisoned by her!", she said. "Who's Willow?", I asked. "Willow is the Witch of Alaska", she replied before everything went back to normal again. "Hey, are you alright? You were mumbling something....", Iris inquired, worry evident in her voice. I just replied by showing a thumbs up.
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Everything wasn't actually fine. Who is Willow? And why is she known as the 'Witch of Alaska'? - --------
