The crack splits the air followed by more loud thuds. I curl up further under my bed, squeezing my eyes shut as I listen to the faint cries from my mother in the other room.
"You worthless good for nothing bitch!" My father's bellow comes from the other side of the door, followed by the shattering of glass that makes me flinch and inch further under the bed. "You never do anything!" He screams, smacking my mother who cries out.
"I'm sorry!" My mother cries, her voice cracking with sobs, "He needed help!" There is a loud thud followed by quieter ones and my door bursts open, smashing a hole in the wall. My father stomps into the room tearing through my stuff.
"Where is he, where the hell is he!"
"Harold, please!" My mother begs, latching on to his arm and trying to pull him away, but he pushes her to the ground and walks over to the bed. Before I know what is happening, I am pulled out from under the bed and thrown to the floor with my father looming over me. Pain blooms along my wrist and I hold it tightly whimpering under my father's stare. He grabs the neck of my shirt and pulls me up only to smack me again. I collapse to the floor only to be yelled at, "Get up!" My father bellows kicking me. In pain, I stand, timidly glancing over at my mother's limp form in the doorway, receiving another stinging blow to the cheek.
"Don't look at her." He demands, forcing me to look at him, "I'm talking to you." I stand trembling, but manage a weak nod.
"Good." My father says, sitting on the end of my bed, and taking a swig from a metal container he pulls from his pocket. Eyeing the doorway, I gather my courage and make a run for it, but my father grabs me, striking me in the stomach with the bottle in his hand and throwing me to the ground. Pain surfaces and I wither on the floor as blood coats my shirt, pulling in painful breath after breath.
"I hope you die." My father spits, dropping the bottle top at my side before walking out. The surroundings become blurry as my breathing becomes ragged, but far off in the distance I hear someone repeating my name. At first I think it is my mother and I pay little attention, letting my eyelids close, but the voice grows louder and someone begins to shake my shoulder.
"Mack! Mack! Wake up!"
I sit up with a start and my eyes fly to my stomach but no blood stains my shirt. Liz's face catches my attention and relief floods through me. Her eyebrows crease as she looks at me. "You alright?" She asks gently, brushing a staring of hair from my face. As she removes her hand I catch it and pull it back to my face, inching closer to her until our lips meet; her rose petal soft lips against mine. The movement seems to frighten her and she pulls away to my dismay, shaking her head.
"Don't do that, please." She whispers, looking away. Before I can say anything, Dylan's voice interrupts in the doorway. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything.."
"No, no. You're fine Dyl. What's up?" Liz responds quickly, hopping up from her seat next to me.
"I was just thinking, we were beat pretty hard last time we face the devils, what happens next time they find us?"
"Next time we'll be ready." Liz asserts, pulling out her knife and tossing it to Dylan. He catches it between his fingers, flipping it in his hand to hold it by the handle.
"Gosh, I haven't seen this in years.." He murmurs, looking over the knife before slipping it in his belt loop and looking at me. "What 'bout him?"
"What about me?" I inquire, standing up and facing him.
"Well, no offense, but I don't know you. Liz I know. I know her strengths and weaknesses in battle, and she knows mine, but you.. Can you even fight?" Dylan says, crossing his arms.
"Why don't we find out." I growl, glaring him down.
"How about we not." Liz pushes between us, her tone frightful.
"Come on Lizzy, can't we have a nice friendly tussle?" Dylan says angrily, pushing me backwards. "Or maybe we should make this more interesting. Winner gets Liz." My glare falters and Dylan smiles. "Yea, I see the way you look at her like a lovesick puppy, but you wanna know something? I loved her first."
Liz's cheeks redden and she looks away. I grind my teeth, glaring at Dylan. "You're on."
A few minutes later we find ourselves by the lake, Dylan standing across from me spinning his knife.
"Whoever goes down first."
I run at him, and he plants his feet on the ground. Instead of running into him though, I sidestep, jumping around him to punch him in the back but he spins around, stopping my fist and twisting my wrist till it pops. I growl, kicking his feet out from under him that knocks him to the ground but he quickly flips backward away from my next attack and back onto his feet. He then barrels at me, sliding below my swing and knocking me to the ground, holding me down with his knife at my throat. I gnash my teeth together, wiggling myself free enough to throw him off, but he's already back on his feet by time I stand. We circle each other for a bit before Dylan runs at me. I swing at him, but he quickly sidesteps, catching me off guard and drags his knife along my side, cutting through the skin that sends sharp pains up my side. I spin around, receiving a punch to the face that throws me off balance and I take a few steps backwards barely managing to block Dylan's next throw. I plant my feet on the ground, ready to jump on him when Liz's voice fills my head.
Stop!
Dylan must have heard it too because he stops, looking away from me towards Liz's outline as she runs up to us.
"Guys, something's coming." Liz tells us when she arrives, trembling.
"What? What is it?" Dylan asks, placing his hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"I don't know, but there's voices, a lot of voices."
"Can you make any of them out?" I butt in, receiving a glare from Dylan.
"No, there's to many of them, but they're getting closer. We need to move." As she answers, Dylan glances up at the sky, "Uh, yeah. Probably sooner than later." He says, pointing towards the sky. Not far in the distance a cloud of black blankets the sky, slowly blotting out the sun and growing larger still. Our surroundings begin to grow darker, and Liz starts tapping my shoulder.
"We need to move." She says, fear in her voice.
"Yeah, I agree." I state, walking backwards a few steps before turning around and breaking into a run. Liz and Dylan's footsteps follow behind as we race through the trees, zig, zagging around trunks and leaping over bushes. My legs begin to burn but I push forward, eventually jumping through the leaves and landing on pavement. A gas station appears in the distance and we race towards it, pounding on the door, but the sign reads: "Closed." Liz stops, turning around to face the way we came and the cloud bearing down on us. The heavy beat of wings fills the air, blocking out my thoughts and I begin pounding on the door harder, shouting curse words.
Mack. Liz's voice enters my head. I stop pounding on the door, resting my forehead on it's cold, hard surface.
We have to fight, don't we? I think back to her.
She's silent for a minute, then I feel her hand grip mine. Yeah, we have to fight.
YOU ARE READING
Blue Wings {COMPLETE} {UNDER EDITING}
Ciencia FicciónLiz is my name. No middle; no last, just Liz. I gave myself that name after I escaped, and found myself alone once more. Escaped from were, you might ask. The place where I was created. For seven years, I lived in a nightmare. I was a prisoner in a...
