Daddy Diablo

Blessed Nightmare

Sunlight beams into the room, casting a holy glow on all that it touches. It lights across the girl's small bookshelf, overflowing with well-loved picture books. Some chapter books huddle amongst the thin stories, not nearly as loved, but she wasn't ready for those yet.

The effervescent light stretches out across the soft carpet, snaking its way up the girl's lilac comforter with the pink and orange hibiscus flowers that she loves so much. It crawls across her pillow and alights upon her tousled blonde hair, warming the side of her face.

All too soon, the light worms its way into her exposed eye, avoiding shadows and obstacles.

The girl pries her eyes open, the sunlight immediately blinding her. Groaning, she pushes herself up onto her elbows, attempting to blink the sleep away.

She glances around the room and bolts upright.

This isn't the orphanage.

The girl lifts her arm to rub the dream from her eyes but stops when she touches something soft.

Startled, she draws her hand back and glances down.

Tucked under the blankets beside her is a small purple stuffed T-Rex with no teeth. Remnants of white fabric remain in his mouth where his teeth should have been, but years of love have rendered him a toothless predator.

The girl exhales, the memory of her beloved Rexas flooding her mind. She smiles and hugs him to her chest, inhaling the worn fabric that makes up his skin. He smells like home.

A wisp of a memory drifts through her brain.

The boys, the blood, the terror. And then, him.

That's right. It wasn't a dream.

The sound of metal scraping metal drifts upstairs and into her room.

She is home, and he is her father.

The thought unsettles her. In the back of her mind, she knows that he's not her birth father. Knows that he's just something pretending to be human. But whenever she tries to dwell on it, her thoughts turn to water and drip out of her hands.

The girl shakes her head and swings her feet out of bed, carrying Rexas.

She supposes that she should be happy to be wanted, even if it were only because of a contact that she didn't understand.

Shifting from foot to foot, she hesitates.

A part of her doesn't want to go downstairs and confirm that this blessed nightmare is real.

The girl squeezes Rexas and inhales the comforting scent of home.

The other part of her wants to explore every inch of the house, to touch the walls, and step on every squeaky floorboard. To feel how real it is.

She steps forward and peeks her head out of the room.

The landing is exactly as she remembers-stairs leading down to the left, her               bedroom to the right.

She blinks. Glances to the right.

Whose room was that? She feels like she knows, but she can't quite grasp the words.

The girl moves towards the bedroom.

Suddenly, a horrid stench fills the air, wisping from behind her and wrapping its vile tendrils around her face.

She claps her hands over her nose, fighting back the urge to vomit. For a moment, it seems as though the smell was coming from the bedroom.

But then a fresh wave of disgust floats over her, permeating from downstairs.

Her eyes water from the intensity of the scent. It was like that of meat left on the counter overnight but a thousand times worse.

The sound of a pot being adjusted on the stove follows the scent upstairs.

He must be down there concocting something horrifying.

The thought stills her, causing her blood to ice over. Her heart pounds, threatening to escape from her chest and run away.

The girl clutches Rexas tighter and takes a deep breath, taking care to only breathe through her mouth. She can still smell the repulsive stench, but it's not as intense this way.

Shaking, she descends the stairs clutching onto the railing with one hand and her purple companion with the other.