Shadowhunters: The Flip Side. (Clizzy)

Chapter 7: Clary's POV

All I had to do was raise my pupils. The whole house was dilapidated, falling apart at the seams as if it had been deserted for years. The only tell tale sign telling any stranger or typical New York tourist that this was a recent act was the scalding hot, bright orange fire that adorned the walls and the roof top. The brick walls were smouldering and falling to the pavement as I looked over my once loving, once artistic, once safe family home, praying for a miracle that I knew would never happen.
     As if on que, the roaring red fire brigade came hurtling into view, and before I knew it I could enter my home again. I ran in through the shop screaming, crying, yelling for my mother to answer me, praying she was still alive. I hoped that this was just a freak accident, that she had found her way to safety, but she knew this was coming. I knew this was coming. She had warned me.
     I half stumbled, half climbed the spiral staircase leading to our apartment and studio, and the first thing I saw was the blood. Then I saw my mother's paintings, splattered with a crimson red liquid, thick as curdled milk, and torn to shreds. The other paintings wore bright orange embers, not on fire but could very easily be so, the smell of burnt canvas wafting through the air. I took a minute to process my hallway, not even beginning to ponder how the rest of our little home looked.
     I took a sharp left, cutting straight through the open living room doors to the lounge, where I found not my mother but the closest person I had to a second mother, Dot, standing in the middle of the room as if she was expecting me. She asked me these questions about a cup that I'd never heard of before, but not a drinking cup. A mystical, magical chalice called the Mortal Cup. Mom had never mentioned anything like this to me before. I would know, I would've made fun of it! Suddenly, Dot wasn't Dot at all. She had tentacles growing out of her mouth and she turned into a hideous, crawling monster. It took after me, while I backed myself intk a corner. Not a good idea if you're being chased by a mongrel let alone whatever...this is. I felt a sharp sting in my leg and began to feel myself slipping to the floor, drowsiness taking over me as a heavy weight on my eyelids caused them to flutter shut. The last thing I remember hearing is the slash of a knife against skin and the words ' " I got you," ' falling from a familiar, soft spoken, gentle person's lips that I couldn't quite put my finger on...