Ditching Greek | editing

24| Bloody Hands

The patchy figure that stood its ground, rising from being on four feet to only using its back legs to tower in front of me. Lampposts up above cast faint streaks of light against its coat of fur, thick and light gray. To me, it looked more feline than anything else, but the horns on its head looked out of place.

A scream trapped itself in my throat while I inched away from this foreign creature. Its cat-like snout poked forward, lips pulled back to showcase rows of long yellowed razor-like teeth and deadly nails sprouting out of its paws.

My hands uselessly flew up, shielding my body from it. As if that would stop it. With that small bit of movement, it crouched forward, snarling in my direction. To my surprise, it didn't strike right away.

What's it waiting for? I wondered.

"Don't move, Nabela," someone said from high above me. I turned to see Hazel at the top of the stairs that led to our apartment. All of the blood was drained from her face, leaving it paler than ever.

The beast shifted its head toward the voice as well, growling louder and falling back onto fours. It scratched the cement and blew out hot air from its nostril as if it was a cartoon. What kind of world had this creature stepped out of? Everything felt so unreal.

"No." I shot another look at the beast and spoke without looking at Hazel."You go back inside and call for help."

"It's not here for you," she said calmly. From the corner of my eye, I could see her walking down the stairs, disregarding what I had just instructed her to do. "It wants me."

"What do you me--" I began to say. But I spoke too slowly. Or the creature pounced too quickly, because I knew it Hazel was pinned to the ground with that thing breathing onto her face. Fear didn't flash in her eye. If anything, I could've sworn a smug look was growing on her pink lips.

Her hands flew to the beasts chests, throwing it over my head and across the lot. I stumbled back, in complete awe at the strength she harbored in her petit frame. Nowhere in my wildest dreams would I've known Hazel could do something like that without breaking a sweat.

"Move back," Hazel demanded, growling under her demand. I shuffled away from the two of them, finding shelter behind one of the cars a row over from where they both were.

The creature recovered from her blow, not showing a scratch or even a limp. Hazel stood her ground. I watched attentively as she groaned in pain and fell to her knees, hitting the cold asphalt. Her head fell between her slumped shoulders. My confusion to the whole thing only intensified when I saw her spine grow our of her shirt, white reptile scales coating what used to be flesh.

In a matter of seconds, I watched my friend turned into a towering lizard-type monster, with bright yellow eyes and dagger sharp fangs snapping at its opponent.

The beast from before leaped forward, swiping a hard blow against Hazel's face, causing her to wince back.

"No, no, no, no, no," I repeated to myself in the darkness around me. "You can do this Hazel. Kick ...it's ass."

Who was this person anyway? They had morphed out of human form before I could get a look at who they were. What if it was one of the people Monica had warned me about or---

My thoughts came to a complete halt when I saw the beast sink it's teeth into Hazel's throat, biting her hard. Blood seeped from the corners of its mouth. Hazel's body twitched, until finally becoming limp in the monster's mouth.

"H...Hazel," my voice wobbled, tears blurring my vision on a scene I didn't want to believe as true. I gripped my shaky hands against the side of the car, hoping that would stop me from collapsing to the floor. My knees turned to Jell-O, scanning over the dead body of my best friend.

I had seen her die. She had sacrificed her life, for me.

For selfish me.

None of this would've happened if I had stayed inside like she insisted. She would still be alive if it wasn't for my stupid, reckless, senseless behavior. Now there was blood on my hands, blood I'd surely never be able to wash off.

I hid behind the car, keeping my next set of sounds quiet as the beast dropped Hazel's lifeless body as if it was a rag doll. I needed to know who this person was; I needed to know Hazel;s killer and my new enemy.

The beast crouched before the body and shrunk down to size. Fur flouted off, revealing chestnut brown skin. At last, they were in complete human form. Vulnerable. In this state, I could surely kill them.

Still, I kept myself silent through all of this. The now naked figure remained in a fetal position till someone moving in the night ran up to her, blanket in hand.

Gideon.

It was undoubtedly him. The killer rose to her feet and wrapped the blankets he provided her around her body. She turned to face him; and with help from the streetlights above, I finally saw her face.

Monica. It was Monica the whole time. It was Monica who has killed Hazel.
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