Broken, Malfunctioned & Forgotten

C H A P T E R F I F T E E N : >>>CAYDENCE<<<

"She's not here." Are the first words that Krait says, but then I see a note on the coffee table, written in Shade's handwriting. 'Caydence, I am sorry, but I leave here in order to find Ian and I am not going alone. Krait is coming with me.' I stop reading. If Krait is with Shade, then who's with me? I am standing alone in the loungeroom before I head over to the kitchen to see Krait washing the dishes, he then notices me and asks, "shouldn't you be resting?" Krait doesn't often questions, he usually tells me what I need to do if I am in a health crisis, so this is the first red flag. 

He looks over to me worried as I don't answer, "You're not Krait. Krait is over with Shade." I say coldly avoiding his eyes. A frown spreads across his face as he says, "Wait... Who's with Shade?" He asks concerned and I realise that maybe Shade is with the wrong Krait. "I am going to ask you questions, so that I know that you are the real Krait." My eyebrows furrow in distaste of him. "Well, if it's helpful then sure." Another red flag, Krait is usually very forward and doesn't ever say the word "if".

"What's my full name?" I ask him and his eyes flicker a little as he tries to recall. It takes him several seconds to answer, when he has heard my full name over a thousand times last year, "Caydence Foyer Micky." He answers at last, but he got it wrong, my name is actually Caydence Jane Micky Ghoulie. He always says my full name when he's being polite and whoever the guy standing in front of me is, I know, he's not Krait. 

"My birthday?" I ask him and he tries to recall, but then he asks, "Was I right?" And I shake my head, "Answer my question." I demand and so he does, "13th of January, 2001. And you're 18 at the moment." He says and I shake my head again. I am 18, but my birthday is 20th of June 2001. I wonder what he is. A knife is sitting right beside him and he grabs it then points it right at me. I don't scream, I don't do anything, I just stand there and say, "I am going to get a haircut." He drops the knife and it makes a slicing sound through the air into his foot.

I run out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where I lock the door. I then creep down the stairs and swing open the front door and close it again so he thinks I am off to get a haircut. However, since I said it, I need it to be believable. I quickly grab my wallet from the couch and run off towards the local hairdresser. I feel stupid for even saying that when he was literally two seconds away from taking the life out of my body and stabbing it to the ground. "Might as well get my hair dyed and cut anyway." I mutter under my breath, breathing hard from all the running, I don't know if I'm going back after.