Invitation to the Grave Darkness Becomes Her

Prologue

Life can move so slowly when you're living in between two completely different worlds. One of the worlds was where I once belonged, and the other world I was thrust into without consent. Nevertheless, as I sit next to my husband's grave, I now see my loyalties torn, as well as my love. All that's left is the name of my first love carved in granite, and I grieve like a widow for the years with him that I've lost. But that woman, that soft woman who was a wife and mother, she no longer resides in this body. What is here now is terrifying, and she was nothing like the deadly woman that I now am.

I've come to see that when we try to be something other than what we really are, everyone around us suffers. To deny one's self is something that I find women do so often. Whether a mother, a wife, a businesswoman, or all three wrapped into one, we know that one role is no less important than the next. I think that is the hardest thing for me to accept in this new life that has chosen me. What my role is truly supposed to be in this world.

On the precipice of change, sometimes the world runs slow as molasses before one's eyes. Every decision you make, you watch its effect, always wondering if your move was correct, making you rethink what you know is right in your heart.

The world as we know it is going to change. Right, wrong, or indifferent, war is coming, and with the species in the heart of it. With all factions of the creatures breaking truces with each other, the debate on whether our existence is even necessary to their world has begun.

Many think it would be better to exterminate us like mere insects, stopping our so-called poison that we mixers supposedly inflict on the kind who made us. Some have even said we are the plague to their world, infiltrating our way through their communities and destroying them piece by piece. And maybe, in a way, they might be right...

This life we didn't ask for, and out of their arrogance or fear, the creatures of this world have made an enemy far more deadly than they even realize. For any warrior will tell you, when you hurt the weak, or threaten the survival of a people, there is a fierceness that precedes all thought and rationality when it comes to protecting those you love.

But here I am again, with the realization of what is about to happen so overwhelming that the mere thought of my next move is debilitating. And as I ponder my thoughts on how or why things I thought could never happen have now come to pass, everything around me moves slowly, letting me witness all of the destruction moment by moment. I wish it would rush me like a wave in the ocean, so I wouldn't have time to think about my next move...only the thought to complete it.

That's the trouble for a warrior with a conscience. It doesn't slip my mind: all the people who are suffering, or those who might suffer from my hand. But all I can think now is, can I stop the horror before it goes too far? Can I change the fate of a species that just wants peace, against monsters that crave war? I really don't know the answer to that question.But all I know is, I have to try.

Men have always made the wars; therefore they've always fought the wars. Dominating others with their size and strength, seizing control of everything they want with the might of their armies. And always with little regard to those who suffered around them.

Your time of domination, gentlemen, is just about at an end.

Molly

In the heat of July on a hot South Carolina night, my maturing was happening...again. Afraid of what I might do this time around, I ran out of the crappy little motel I was staying at and down the road, where there was a swampy field that nobody would ever go into. When I got to the middle of the field I took deep gasping breaths as my body began to shake with pain.

I'd been alone the past seven months, trying to find my family. I thought I could be on my own; I needed to be on my own to figure everything out. But now in the midst of what was happening, again, I wondered if I made the right choice. I bent over, grabbing my stomach as the pain enveloped me. Shakily I took my phone from my shorts pocket and texted George: "StayPuft marshmallow man."

A couple of minutes later she called me, out of breath. "Molly, what's wrong? I just got off the phone with you two hours ago," she asked, but I couldn't answer, all I could do was breathe. My mind was racing; something big was happening, and I was petrified.

"Molly, answer me. Damn it! Molly!" she yelled into my ear. Moisture started to well up in my eyes; my options for what I could do to escape my fate were none. I had nowhere to go, as I looked around me in the moon-drenched night. The realization that I was going to face this on my own almost crippled me...

"It's different tonight, George. I just drank, but I'm still so damn thirsty, it's unbearable," I whispered, tears running down my face. "I don't think I'm not going to be able to stop it... I can't win tonight," I told her as the pain shot through me like a bullet.

The bones snapped in my feet and arms, out of my control. The black fur grew from my shoulders, and small ice crystals ran up and down my neck and chest.The black pool gathered at my hands and feet, running up my veins in my arms and legs. Something new happened then: little ice crystals formed around the black veins, and the air around me became electrically charged. "I can't fight it, George!" I screamed.

I heard her breath hitch, and then her voice soothed me. "Okay, I need you to listen to me...all you need to do is just breathe. Take a deep breath and then count to ten. I know you can do this, Molly, just take a deep breath and count to ten..." she kept telling me over and over again as her words rang through my tortured mind.

"One, two, three..." And I took a breath, but my mind wasn't able to focus, so I tried again."One, two, three, four... Georgie..." I cried, trying to get my body to stop its violent shaking.

"Try again, Molly. You've won before, I know you will win tonight," she whispered.

So I did as she asked but the tremors raked through me so viciously I looked as though a seizure had struck me, and I knew this time the breathing wasn't going to work. When the shaking was at its worst, it suddenly stopped...and at that moment my body stilled.

My eyes then glanced down into the blackened, ankle-deep muddy water where my feet stood. Little fish started rising from the depths, dead. Then they started popping up and floating on the top of the water around me in droves. Holy shit, was I killing the fish?

A rumble came from above my head and clouds gathered above me as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Little electrical bolts ran around the midst of this newly formed cloud, looking like it was gathering speed as the current found its way around. I took deep breaths, trying to calm down, but it was no use, the fear and anxiety had my pulse racing a mile a minute as my eyes followed the glowing spark seeming to make its move... And then I knew what was about to happen. "Oh shit," I whispered.

Something snapped inside me, and my head flew back; my arms flung back as a guttural scream tore from my body and echoed through the swamp. A flash came from the now raging storm above me, and that little electrical spark shot from the cloud with a crack of lightning, striking me in the chest. The current jolted through me, and once it was done, I collapsed into the soupy muck in which I stood...

"Molly! Molly, are you there? Answer me, Molly?" Georgie screamed.

I could hear the panic in her voice, but the rational side of myself—well, she was beyond recovery. When the pain finally subsided, my fingers dug into the gloppy soup. The world around me had gone red, and as I took my first smell of the night air, new insights of possibility rolled to mind.

Pushing myself from the muck, I stretched in my new skin, feeling the sheer power course through my veins; my necked popped as I readied myself for the scents that surrounded me. The need to hunt was overpowering, but hearing Georgie's voice calling my name in a panic...that needed to stop.

My foot came down, dissolving the phone and everything around it into nothingness instantly, freeing the beast even more when the words of reason were gone. For the first time I felt free, I felt powerful, I felt...very thirsty. The beast had made her way out; she was letting me know she had found a way to win tonight, and she was pretty damn happy about it.