Mackenzie's P.O.V
Somewhere in North Carolina – Five years earlier.
I SAT IN THE FAMILY ROOM OF MY CHILDHOOD HOME, hunched over a book. Music played softly in the background, my tea next to me completely forgotten. I checked the time. She should have been home by now.
Bexli always did this to me. Every time we made plans, she somehow managed to find a way to be extremely late or ditch me altogether. This time, she was in for it – no more Mr Nice Guy. Or girl. Whatever.
I pushed my gold-rimmed, totally cliché hipster glasses – the same glasses that Bexli berated me for every time she saw them – further up the bridge of my nose and caressed the soft material of my cream cashmere blanket.
It was cold out – colder than usual. Winter was always unusually cold in this part of the State, but today it was unnaturally so. Was it snowing? I wouldn't know. Mom and Dad were away for the weekend for some "alone time" (cue vomit) and I had stopped listening after that, so I couldn't even remember where they were – or if they even told us. Without Mom in the house, the curtains were still drawn, leaving me bathing in the soft light of the lamp next to me.
I checked the time again; it was almost four pm. Bex was supposed to have been here two freaking hours ago. I rolled my eyes, huffing in frustration as I grabbed the remote off the coffee table next to the sofa and turned on the television. I picked up my phone for the third time, ready to call Bexli and give her an earful, when screams of horror filled my ears. Our dad was a news junkie, so our TV was always automatically switched to CNN and what I saw on the screen caused my heart to beat erratically. I sat up straight, my eyes wide.
There was chaos everywhere.
People ran around aimlessly, screaming in agony. Their skin looked like it had been bathed in acid. I watched on in terror, my skin crawling. The reporter stood with her microphone in her shaking hands, terror in her eyes, trying her best to report on what was happening, but it fell on deaf ears. Out of nowhere, a small man limped into view, thick blood matted in his hair and gaping holes burned into his skin. Before the reporter knew what had happened, he had lunged at her. The camera blacked out and switched back to the main news anchors, but pandemonium had ensued in the news studio. What is happening?
Bexli needed to get home now. I dialled her number, urging her to pick up. If someone held a gun to my head and told me that if the person I called didn't answer, I would live... I'd call Bexli. She never answered her phone, much to mine and my parents chagrin. I would need a miracle.
Surprisingly, she answered on the fourth ring. Well, there have been a lot of firsts today. Crazy, demon things running around attacking other humans... Bexli picking up her phone... What next?
"I know, I know. I promise it won't happen again. I'll buy your favorite -- " Bexli began, but I cut her off in a panic.
"I don't care about that! Wait, my favourite chocolate? No! Forget that. Have you even looked outside and seen what's going on?" I screamed into the receiver.
"You need to calm down. What are you so worked up about?" she replied, annoyed.
"Bexli, you need to get home now!" I began to feel frantic, my shaky hands running through my hair.
She must have picked up on the urgency in my voice because her tone suddenly became serious. "Kenz, everything is okay. What is going..." she drifted off.
"Bexli? What's wrong? Are you okay?" I began to peel the thin layer of skin off of my lips, nervous energy coursing through my veins.
Bexli ignored my question before she began to speak in a low tone. She must have seen one of those human/creature... things.
