That night Kijora appeared in the girl's bedroom, the girl whom caught her interests is Cherie. A person young and empty, Kijora sees the contingency in that young lady. Kijora has found a new shape, a new mask to replace the old cocoon she'd been living in and with for the past centuries. Now, she has decided and she has chosen her. Kijora strolled by Cherie's bed, her fingers touched the footboard of the bed, they slide across as Kijora moved. She sees Cherie's past with every step she took in that room. She absorbed the abundance of pain, inhaled the frustation, impaled less the joy of the girl's past in her mind. There's no love in that girl. No one to claim her when she's taken into Kijora's world. And it makes things easier for Kijora.
Cherie stood in the middle of the bathroom where she stares blankly at the top. The hole. The shadow. It just doesn't exist. Maybe Ms. Russo was right. But I'm not high on drugs or anything. I might be hallucinating, that's all. Cherie assured herself. She looked away and went to shower. Warm water runs down her hair, flows againsts her skin, relieves the tireness away.
Kijora awaits in the corner of the room for she is ready to invade her new body.
The cubicle door opens and Cherie steps out, hair wet and smelled sweet of chamomile soap, she loved the fresh feeling of afterbath. She had the towel tugged on her head and had slipped into an oversized jersey.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The knockings at the door alerts her. Cherie leads herself to see who would it be outside.
"Hi." An unfamiliar face appeared at her door, his voice was rather husky.
" I was just wondering if you happen to have a toolbox? My pipe is leaking." He continued.
Cherie was numb for a moment. The guy who stood at her door was not comely. He was young, maybe a year or two older than herself . The scalp-lock on his head withdrawn the neat features of his gentle face. Standing at an average height, broad shoulders, dark soft eyes and a bend from the bridge of his nose reflects a native generation in his bloodline. Curiosity and skepticalism crept her mind when her eyes met his. He kept looking over her shoulders into the apartment with a bemused expression.
" Yeah." Cherie snapped herself from gazing awkwardly at the guy.
" Great." The guy chirped.
" But there's not much tool in it." She told him.
" It's fine. I'll just do with what there is."
"Okay, give me a sec." She closed the door for safety reasons.
" Here." She returned and handed him the toolbox.
"Thanks. I'll return this soon as I'm done." He sounded monotonous under that husky tone.
"Okay." Cherie complied.
The stranger started to step away. Cherie felt relief and closed the door.
"Wait!" The husky voice halts her from shutting the entrance. He stood at her doorway again.
"My name is Haska."
" I'm staying in 7A. You could look me up if you need help." He spoke as Cherie peeped from the gap.
"Okay. Sure." She replied, Cherie saw a smile on the guy's face as he turned and disappear from her sight.
Cherie sat in her blue velvet recliner, her hands cupped a mug of warm cocoa. She wasn't ready to tuck in early eventhough her eyes had tire and begging her to sleep. She just can't help it but that uncomely face kept playing in her mind. Cherie felt butterflies in her stomach. She didn't like the feels of it, maybe that's what keeping her from resting the night. But at the same time she had an intuition as not to trust him though he is a neighbor. She glanced at the digital clock across the room, it's getting very late now. Cherie finishes her drink, left the mug on the side table and waste no more seconds as she heads to her bed.
Kijora watched as Cherie settled herself in her bed. Dark as the room is, she is about to bring rejuvenation into her own world. From the black of the atmosphere, she unfolds herself. Kijora floats above the girl, her presence billows in the air. A wicked grin formed across that ancient face; behind those thin and dry lips, rows of serrated teeths came into sight. It can't wait to maul the soul out from the girl's body. She waits no longer and pounced on Cherie. The girl jerked in shock but couldn't scream for help. What she saw had buried her voice deep in her abdoment. Cherie struggled with her hands and knees, kicking the hideous being in defense. Kijora maimed her poisoned teeth at the girl's throat, almost tasted the soft and warm skin whereby her clawed fingers pushed the girl's shoulder againts the pillows but Cherie still fights for her dear life. Kijora balled her claws into a fist and blow the lights out of the girl.
Cherie laid like a ragdoll. Breathing but lifeless.
Kijora kneeled above Cherie, she slipped her arms across the girl's body and heaved Cherie near to her mouth. Before she lay her teeth into the girl's throat, a blast of energy in green luminous light pulled her off the bed. Kijora sprang backwards, seperated away from her prey.
