Dakota's Suite

It's Always Your Own

My heart had beat rapidly as I had immediately turned in the foyer. Everything around me had blurred due to how fast I had sprinted into the kitchen. Nothing else really mattered to me other than the fact that it was Hannah who screamed.

The window above the sink had been shattered into pieces, and Hannah had leaned over the sink.

A flash of red had blocked my retinas as I captured the view of a pale, nearly grey calloused hand that dared leer over the kitchen sink. It's bony fingers had found themselves within my sister's long black tresses as one of her hands frantically clawed at the wrist. Her body had leaned over the sink itself due to the hand's grip, her head had been forced down, her free hand grasped at the fingers at an attempt to pry them off. Her body tried to shuffle away

I wasted no time rushing over to her. My hand clasped itself on the wrist of Hannah's attacker as I had glanced to see who it belonged to. I glared through the broken window to see the face of a man that replicated Maragaret's off-white eyes. It came to my attention that the man wasn't alone as other silhouettes had appeared behind the curtains of the untouched windows. Surely enough, they were going to break eventually as well.

"Oh my god!" Daphne exclaimed in horror.

The man came closer to the corner of the window, combating the wood frame that remained of it as his reddened teeth clamped against each other as he growled. Along with Margaret and her son, dark crimson had stained his chin, jugular, and chest. His black hair had clung to his pale, russet-brown skin. I was once again met with a hollow pair of white eyes.

My heart slammed itself against my ribcage. He wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to stop until he either scalped my sister or broke further through the window to rip into her.

The weight of the gun I had taken from Daphne had given me a twisted thought.

I sprinted toward Hannah. My free hand latched itself on top of the bastard's hand. A grimace played on my lips while I shoved the barrel of the gun in his open, snarling mouth. With the press of a trigger, a loud bang had tore into my eardrums, and I could feel the heat of the gun in my hand burn from the quick yet fatal movement. The man's head snapped back in response, a flurry of blood had emerged from his mouth and through the back of his head, his body fell limp as it had slumped against the frame of the window.

Hannah had broken free from the man's grip so fast that her sandals slipped along the linoleum. She caught her balance along the island behind her. Daphne finally took action from behind me and had dashed forward to pull my sister away from the window to prevent her from being grabbed again. I gazed at the other people that had gathered outside, not even entirely aware of what I had just done.

I could hear Daphne and Hannah's footsteps as they ran out of the kitchen. I follow suit.

The moment we gathered again in the foyer, I ran my hand through my choppy hair that felt matted from my sweat. It took me a second to register that we were all panting. However, there wasn't enough time to process everything happening. Those things outside don't even seem to have the rationality of a normal person. All we know right now is that they're dangerous, and Allen alone should be proof enough. We still needed to get out of here and fast.

"We don't have enough time to plan our next stop." I panted out. "Right now, we just need to get away from this house!"

Hannah swiftly nodded, her eyes constricted from the assault she had to endure, perhaps along with me killing someone without much of a thought. She hugged the sides of her arms. "M-my stuff is on the couch, I'll go grab it." She stammered before she endured her sentence with a sprint towards the living area.

Hannah gazed up the stairs. "What about Bryant?"

Shit.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a sharp exhale. "Focus on getting Hannah and the keys. Your car is not going to fit all of us inside of it, especially with the things we need to bring with us. Let's use my truck."

"I'll grab him myself, I'll stay in the garage long enough to open the door, and then we're out of here." I explained. "Don't do anything stupid."

I inched over to Hannah. "You will be driving, Mom hasn't really been processing this well, and I can't trust our lives in her hands right now." I quickly instructed, Hannah had opened her mouth to protest, but I immediately turned around and started to sprint up the stairs.

Gun still in hand, I made a swift left down the hallway. "Bryant! Get your ass in gear! You should have your shit together now!" I yelled loud enough so that he could hear me.

Bryant emerged from the end of the hallway from where his bedroom was, a lit cigarette flapping out of his mouth as he casually stepped out. He wore his classic patched up bomber jacket, one he had put together when he was having a frat party. He was absolutely way too calm, given the situation.

"Bryant, we're taking my truck. Come on." I urged him, my tone of voice firm but clear.

He opened a corner of his mouth, and a translucent cloud of smoke had emerged. His passive movements were only pissing me off even more, while I'm aware he had lost his father only an hour ago, I didn't have time to keep trying to get him to cooperate.

Before I could knock some sense into him (again), a loud crash had echoed downstairs, and the sound of splintering wood had followed suit. I dashed toward the railing to see more people toppled over one another above the front door that had now been pressed to the floor.

There would be no time to safely get past the group of people, especially with the little space we would have by the time we get downstairs and into the foyer. We needed another way.

I immediately sprinted towards the other side of the hallway to grab the piece of string attached to the attic right before my bedroom door. With one sharp yank, I made way to allow the ladder to slide down before my feet.

If we were going to make it alive, we definitely needed to think outside of the box.