Dollhouse

Chapter 6

Being different always comes at a cost, as everyone in the shop knew.

It just didn't occur to us that the townspeople were picking up on just how different we all were at an alarming rate.
Or maybe having a blood thirsty vampire and a flesh hungry (albeit rather civilized) werewolf living under the same roof was not the best of ideas.

The night when we all lost everything was the first time I had been in any real danger, the sight of that mob still frightens me even now...
I remember it was two months after we'd first came to Clearwood, Blaire had just finished closing up shop that evening and I was upstairs, reading with Jonathan.
Jonathan took quite an interest in teaching me things, I think mainly because I was so I eager to learn.
I took an instant liking to reading, especially fiction. Though I'm not sure why, the texture of the paper just felt reassuring under my fingers, and the thought of travelling to lands unknown and the feeling of adventure the books brought was almost... familiar.

When I heard the knock, it was more like an angry thump, echoing throughout the entire house.
My first reaction was to rush out into the hallway and down the stairs, but I was intercepted by Zenith.
"Stay in your room. If there's any sign of trouble I want you to jump out the back window and run straight into the forest, alright?" he whispered, turning me back to my door.
"Alright, just don't be the one to cause the trouble," I replied, obediently walking back into my room.
"I make no promises."
And then my door was shut.

Obviously I didn't see what happened downstairs, but I know, they told me.
And I heard, dear god there was such a noise.
Before Blaire opened the door, the mob was already throwing stones at the building and yelling incomprehensible things.
I didn't dare to peek out the front window in case they lodged a bolder in my direction, so I sat silently with Johnathan at the back of the room.

When Blaire opened the door, she told me that the scene played out something like this:
There was a large, stocky man that was leading the group. Blaire said that he looked as if he wanted to swallow her whole- to paraphrase, her own language was far more descriptive and colourful.
The second she saw the mob, she reached for the door- but the man stood in her way.
"Not so fast missy," he spat, breath like fire.
"Unhand me sir, I am yet to finish closing up."

"You turn away now we'll burn this whole place down!" the man yelled into her face.
"What do you want?"
"This be' a cursed place! We know there be monsters roamin round ere' and we know you've been shelterin' them Sheparton!" Another man roared from the back of the crowd.
Dozens of people hissed in response, pushing Blaire back into the shop as they advanced towards her.
"That's quite enough!"

Zenith's voice was gruff and monstrous, scaring the villagers back a good three feet.
He stepped into the doorway, eyes burning with judgement as he stood, arrogant and intimidating, probably belittling them all in his head.
"E's one of em', E's one of the monsters!" Someone said, after a long moment of deafening quiet.
"I am not! Even if I was I wouldn't waste my time feeding off you putrid lot!" Zenith snapped.
"Only a monster would say that!" Another voice screamed back.
"Unless the real monster wanted to hide their cover by accusing an innocent," He replied, far too content with the situation.
The group went quiet again, presumably taking a few more steps away.

Blaire moved forward once more, making her best attempt at staring them down.
"Whatever makes you think that I am harboring... these creatures that are plaguing our town?"
The villagers all stood silent for a very long time.
Well, long enough to start making me anxious anyway.

As Jonathan and I sat waiting for a reaction, the room around us darkened to an almost pitch black and the temperature dropped sharply.
The cold bit viciously at my exposed skin, I might as well have been in the middle of a snowstorm it was making me shake so much.
Which was odd for a number of reasons.
The most obvious of which was the fact that I couldn't feel temperature.
At least, not until that night.