The Runaways

New Life

Copyright  © 2012 Danielle Moynihan

All Rights Reserved

Chapter 5

*******Caden's POV*******

"Your new home."

Asher's words rang in my ears, and I sat there, in the back of the van, crouched in the most uncomfortable position ever, oblivious to the world until a voice snarled, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Get outta the flippin' car, would ya?"

I hopped out of the back of the van and looked around for Althaia.

Ash linked her arm through mine, and I just as quickly unlinked them, but still kept in pace with her. We were in a long driveway with perfectly manicured lawns next to it. Up the path was a building, so grand, the word 'mansion' would've understated it. Even 'castle' barely fit, and yet, that's what it was. It was made of ashy-grey stone, made in a 'modern-meets-classic' style, towering turrets and towers (pun intended), ten-feet-high double French doors as the front door, windows littering the building....

We walked up to the front door, not even in the doors, already met with a crowd. "Don't show fear," Ash muttered to me, so quietly, I could barely hear her.

Suddenly, something cold, sharp and deadly was shoved against my back. A blade, forcing me forward. Quick as a flash, I turned around and grabbed the knife by the blunt edge, then used it as leverage to flip the knife holder from behind me to in front. Looking around frantically, I saw Althaia standing by Asher and Ash off to the side, brushing off her school skirt. She looked up, and the second she saw me, her eyes widened, and began to run toward me, but Asher hooked an arm in front of her waist, holding her back effortlessly. Ash whispered something in her ear, and Althaia froze and mouthed two words to me: "The knife."

Said knife was still in my hand, but the guy I flipped got up and snarled at me. I grinned maliciously back, barely showing the tiny crescent moon-shaped scar that only appeared when I smiled- a reminder of the last few moments I spent with my parents, not that I could ever tell anyone what had really happened that night.

 The man snarled again, but this time I smiled fully, allowing him, and only him, a good look at the scar. And it wasn't a white, never-to-bleed-again kind of scar. No. My scar was bloody, messy, gruesome, sticky, purpley-maroon in color, and it reeked of your worst fears. I'd only shown it to one other person- Mark, my boyfriend. Or, should I say, ex-boyfriend. Right after I'd smiled at him for the first time after my parent's death, he had passed out, screaming about the night and creatures. Mark had been rushed to the hospital by his parents when he still hadn't woken up. Right after he woke up, he had begun to -gradually- recover, but when I came to visit him, he had had a heart attack. And this time he didn't recover. His autopsy revealed that his death had been instantaneous and painless, of which was my only saving grace. I had feared this would happen, and I had been warned of the consequences. The scar that showed only when I smiled. That's what had to spark the curse. Laughing, grinning, that stuff's harmless. But, if I should smile at someone now....

"Smile, and your victim will have horror to no end- that is, of course, you end the suffering and decide- quick or slow end. That will be your curse, and your curse alone, to have, now and forever."

I blinked, and saw the man begin to charge. Tough, but not tough enough. He leapt on top of me, so I quickly turned my head to the side and smiled like I used to on a daily basis. Maybe that's what had inspired the curse. I heard a choke, and the man's weight vanished. I stopped smiling, and got up. When I finally forced myself to look at him, I nearly screamed. He was on the hard cement, sharp cuts just appearing, blood everywhere, convulsing and whimpering pathetically. His sea green eyes, that just moments ago were bright with anger, turned to insanity. As I looked at his eyes, they actually appeared to be fracturing with madness. I swallowed hard, then sat down next to him.