Metamorphosis (Breaking Free, book 2)

Chapter 1-Milo

The rusty smell of blood wafted heavily around the room, looming in corners and clinging to the walls. Books, torn at the spine, and ancient paper littered with words I couldn't read lay strewn about the small attic among the peeling boxes, knocked down and spewing random artifacts reeking of magic. Wind flowed in through the open window, and the blood ripened, making me wrinkle my nose in distaste.

A bird sang a lilting, mysterious tune nearby and I wondered where the blood was coming from. It floated from all directions, like a mist that clung to your skin and made your hair frizz. The air quickly stagnated and turned sour, the smell of aging blood and something akin to sulfur flooding the room.

The floorboards creaked and groaned, whining under the weight of something sinister and I flinched, glaring at the floor. Something clicked inside me and I recognized the scenery, the smells, the birds singing, and the creaking of the floorboards. Deja vu flooded me and I squinted my eyes closed, regret and apprehension seeping into my bloodstream like a poison.

"It's just a dream." I murmured, my voice tense and my shoulders rising. Blood rushed in my ears and I could feel my sense of reality slipping away and coming back.

"Milo," She cooed, stretching my name out languidly, her voice a hissing, taunting whisper. All strength left my legs, and they began to tremble, Crashing to the floor, I held my head in my hands, refusing to open my eyes or move. I was paralyzed to the spot, my mind a haze of terror.

Tears welled up in my eyes and a sob fought it's way up my throat, getting caught just before it was released, blocking any air. My chest tightened and I clutched it desperately, my eyes wide.

"It's just a dream," I choked out, my voice shaking. Cold, boney fingers stroked my cheek in a freezing, silver caress and I gasped and jumped back, my entire body quaking.

"Open your eyes, Milo," She said, her voice lilting and calm, filling my entire body with unease. I shook my head frantically. "Open your eyes and face me." Her voice was resolute and firm this time and a single tear broke free and slid down my face, hot against the cold trail she had left behind.

"No." I croaked. The air crackled with electricity, and I froze. The world sharpened to a crystal pin, every cobweb, and dust bunny painfully visible. It was quiet for a second, the air thick with tension and power just waiting, on the cusp of exploding free and destroying everything around it all at once in one great blast of fury.

"Open your eyes, Milo!" She shrieked, spit flying from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and frenzied and her face pale, her veins black and pulsing just beneath her skin. " Face what you did! What we did, together." I looked up and a guttural sob wrecked my throat. Red. All I could see was red. The floors, the walls, the ceiling, the boxes, artifacts, books. All of it was soaked red, in blood.

Acid crept up my throat and I heaved up air. Bodies lay strewn all over the floor, some twitching, others moaning in pain. Some lay completely and totally still. Unnaturally still. I was alone, in a room full of dead men who I had killed. The woman appeared, her face devoid of the black veins, the only semblance of evil being the wicked grin carved onto her face

"Milo, open your eyes." She mouthed a voice much deeper and more panicked seeping through.

"Milo!" Someone began to shake me and I screamed in terror, thrashing wildly.

"Milo, wake up! Milo!" My eyes flew open, my breathing heavy and ragged. Owen's wide, brown eyes stared back at me, filled with concern. I desperately tried to catch my breath, but I couldn't seem to bring any air in, my chest aching and my vision going in and out of focus. I felt the world slipping out from under me and I clutched Owen's arm like a life-line.