The pain woke me. At first I couldn't place its origin, but the closer I came to opening my eyes, the clearer it was. My leg hurt really badly, and my neck, too. I tried to remember what had caused it, but the only image coming back to me was something from a movie: the full grin of some pale man with elongated canines and blood running down his chin.
My eyelids fluttered the same time the pain intensified, and I looked around, propping myself up on my elbows.
The movie must still be going on. Either that, or I was in a dream.
In front of me lay my family members, each in a pool of their own crimson blood. When I swallowed, the action burned my neck and I reached up to touch it, my fingers coming back slick and red. I was bleeding, too. So why wasn't I like the others?
I tried to lift onto my knees, the side of my left leg burning and bloody. Crawling forward as slowly as I could without my leg buckling under me, I leaned over my brother, the twin I'd had by my side my whole life. His eyes were open but blank and dead, the right side of his throat the source of most of his blood. His shirt was torn at the collar, thin rips like it had been shredded by something small and sharp. Was this some sort of sick joke? I tried not to think about the fact that his eyes were too blank for him to be only kidding.
"Jeremy, knock it off," I mumbled, the movement of my throat searing. "Wake up. This isn't funny. I'm hurt."
He didn't move. I lifted a weak hand to shake him, grabbing his shoulder as roughly as I could manage while gritting my teeth. "Jeremy. This isn't funny." Through the rips in his shirt, I could feel his skin. It was cold.
"No." I pushed past him and crawled toward my parents, side by side even in their fake death. I grabbed my mom's hand, tugging her towards me. "Mom, I'm bleeding and my leg and neck hurt. Help me." Like my brother, her half-closed lids didn't move. She was completely still, and her hand didn't respond in the slightest to my touch. "Mom?"
I didn't even look at my dad, scared to see the same things I'd seen in my other family members. Using the last of the little strength I had to crawl to the table, I pulled myself to my feet with the ledge, my shaking fingers fumbling around in my pocket. Before I could get to my cellphone, which felt strangely like it had been flattened still hidden in my jeans, the door burst open. I knew if I screamed it would burn my throat even more, but it was instinctual. The first man to come through the door was covering my mouth before I got even a squeak out. Behind him was another guy, easily the tallest I'd ever seen, who scanned the room back and forth. I saw him step over my brother and felt sick to my stomach.
"Sammy!" he called over his shoulder, and the huge guy ducked out through a doorway, something that looked like an axe in his hand. After he was gone, the other looked back at me, his hand loosening over my mouth.
"Don't scream. I'm here to help you." His hand dropped away completely, tipping my head to the side so he could look at my neck. "That'll need stitches. Sam's better at those than I am. You're gunna be fine." He seemed to be mumbling comforting things at me to calm me down, but it was only making me more antsy, and the fact that the bloodstained room was swirling around me didn't make things any better. "Do you mind? It's the easiest, since your leg looks pretty bad." Without waiting for me to ask what he meant, he swept me up in his arms wedding-style, carrying me out of the room and into the dark front yard in a couple long strides. He wasn't as tall as the giraffe that had had the axe, but he was nowhere near my height, either.
"My family," I whimpered, starting to struggle in his arms. His grip was strong but he loosened so he didn't hurt me, and I managed to squirm around, facing my house over his shoulder. "Put me down. I need to see my family. They need help."
"They're gone." He sounded apologetic, but his words sent a spike of fear and panic through my stomach. Gone? Had they gotten up and left while the stranger had taken me outside? Was he actually trying to help me, or kidnap me? "We gotta get you out before they come back."
"Take me back to my family," I ordered, but it was slurred. The pain in my neck was making my eyelids droop. "I need them. Don't help me, help them."
"They're gone," he repeated.
"No they're not!" I glared at him and started squirming again, managing to get out of his hold long enough to fall onto my knees in the grass. I jolted up, a sudden surge of adrenaline letting me begin racing back across the yard. "Jeremy! Mom! Dad!"
"Dammit," I heard him groan, and he was behind me in a second, his arms around my waist. Apparently I hadn't been running as fast as I'd thought. The night spun around me, and my knees buckled, sending me towards the ground. The man caught me before I was on the grass, and I registered the spots of white against the dark sky in my head--stars?--before they disappeared, and everything was black.
