Chapter 18

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3rd Person POV

Katt watched him walk away with a look of longing. The faint breeze moving his hair and clothing with a strange yet fitting regal grace.

He walked smoothly, confidence pooling in each step yet an air of unfamiliarity surrounded him. Brad just didn't seem to fit into the small town scene.

Wiping her face once more, Katt opened a drawer in the old wooden desk and fished out a small pill bottle. Taking two pills, she gulped them down with disgust.

The pills just clouded her mind and distracted her from her research but she didn't want to risk another breakdown, she couldn't keep them away anymore.

Sighing, she tidied the desk, sifting through the scattered papers. A pop of color among the dusty yellow pages caught her eye.

Gently, she picked it up and examined it closely. There were a couple drawings on the page and several handwritten annotations. Her eyes struggled to make out the strange runes and symbols.

The strange language was unclear but the illustrations were enough for her to guess what the page was about.

A drawing of two humanoids, a male and a female, both with tails where their legs should've been, fins along their arms and backs.

'Mermaids?..' she thought to herself, studying the drawings even closer.

The male had a sleek grey tail and a shimmering emerald green blended into his skin. He was well built, lean but muscular. The female's figure was thin and sharp, barely skin and bones, with long pointed spines  like those of a lion fish. Her eyes were blacked out, and yet they seemed to burn into you.

The two of them were arranged in a short of yin and yang symbol. The male was the light and the female was the dark.

As Katt stared onto the page, the face of the male become more and more familiar.

Katt stood flabbergasted, almost sputtering out words to no one in particular.

"What the fuck...Emerson?"

A loud crack of thunder shook the shed. Jostling Katt and sending the papers flying. But that wasn't what she was afraid of.

With the papers cleared, it was easy to see the jagged, clawed writing, scratched deeply into the once smooth surface of the desk.

SHE IS ALIVE

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