Eclipse of Vengeance

06.House of Horrors

Bedford, Indiana

I put the car into park next to Tara's brown and tan Bronco. My headlights staring down an isolated two story house with neglected green siding that was chipped and looked as if someone had fired a shotgun at it- which is a very likely possibility. It almost appeared that no one resided here, if it weren't for the soft yellow light leaking from the windows.

A heavy sigh left my dry mouth as I kept my eyes on the house-worried it would somehow swallow me whole if I looked away.

How in the hell was I going to explain to Tara that the ectoplasmic essence was missing when I captured the ravager? I had searched the building five times, but yielded no essence. There wasn't a single doubt in my mind who had taken it.

I sat motionless, my muscles refusing to budge as a crippling sense of dread kept them rigid. My heart erratically hammered against my chest, as I squeezed my eyes shut. My foot rapidly tapped against the floorboard, shaking the entire car, trying to formulate a believable lie to tell Tara. Regretting at this moment the sarcasm I gave her back in Kansas. I'd rather run head first into a battle with a scourge weaponless, than face Tara's wrath. I took a deep breath, striving to build courage. With my stomach twisting in nauseating knots I opened the door, deciding that sitting here will only make it worse, that I just need to get it over with.

As I walked up the three concrete steps all I could hear was my thrashing heartbeat. I stiffened my posture, squaring myself with the sun damaged oak door, contemplating turning back, escaping. Although I knew it would do no good, that she always finds me, and with each escape brought a worse punishment.

I pounded my fist against the door six times, after a long internal debate over knocking three times. She always told me if I didn't do it six times, she'd assume I was a shifter and put a knife through my heart, but I couldn't, I have a damned promise to uphold.

The door flew open, and I was met with the barrel of a twelve gauge shotgun. Promptly I raised my clammy hands, scanning over Tara's disheveled appearance. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, with greasy hair escaping the hair tie, her icy blue eyes were glassy and red eyes studying me in disdain. Awesome, she's been drinking.

"You look like shit," she grunted, lowering the shotgun. I knew she was referring to the bruises across my face and neck along with the gash across my forehead that I had haphazardly stitched back together with fishing line in West Virginia.

"Thanks," I breathed, letting my hands drop.

She gestured with her head for me to come in, stumbling backwards towards her filthy, torn up faux leather couch. I felt a shiver run up my spine as I took a step inside my own house of horrors.

"Well hand it over," she slightly slurred her words, tossing the shotgun onto the couch.

I'm going to die, hell-death would be mercy, a mercy I believe she'd never grant me, she'll have something much worse in mind. "That's the thing..." I shakily spoke, watching her face form a gnarl. "There wasn't any. I looked everywhere-" I was cut off by a harsh closed fist across the bruise that rested on my cheekbone, ballooning a throbbing pain. I swallowed back the fire I felt brewing under my skin. The fire that scorched my veins, that screamed at me to retaliate, to bring her to her knees.

"Don't take me for a fool girl," she gritted, getting inches from my face, so close I could smell the alcohol twisting from her vile breath. "You lost it didn't you?" Her loathing eyes were searing through mine. Bile threatened to spill, burning my throat.

"I swear to you," I began, trying to control my breath, she had to believe me. "I'm just as confused as you are. As to why it was guarding a building that didn't have any ectoplasmic essence." I stood firm, letting my lie sink in.

Tara's cold eyes darted between mine, searching for deception, for me to falter. "Do you need to go back to time-out?" She mocked, her thin cracked lips pulling into an amused snarl.

My heart began to accelerate, my eyes flicking to the white basement door in the hallway behind her, a plea almost falling from my tongue before I shut it down. I had to stand strong. "No," I returned, a fake confidence coating my voice. "I think both of our energies would be better spent dealing with this," I said, sliding a folded up piece of paper out of my pocket, holding it towards Tara.

She unfolded it with an agitated expression. Her eyes enlarged gliding over the words."Where did you get this?" She hissed.

"Found it, stuck in my windshield back in Kansas. Must have been other hunters in the area," I answered, not breaking eye contact, I wanted to fully observe her reaction.

"Stygian Syndicate?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That's just a myth, a horror story told amongst hunters." She shook her head, letting the paper that read "Want to do some real good, help us dismantle the Stygian Syndicate" fall to the linoleum. "Did any hunters approach you?" She eyed me.

"Nope, just the note," I replied, not technically lying, another hunter didn't. Although I did fib on the note, seeing as I wrote it myself using my best forging skills to remain undetected by Tara. I knew if I outright asked her, that wouldn't go well, she'd pry into whoever I talked to, and with Silas being a vampire she'd kill him. She didn't have a 'code' as Silas had phrased it, if it was supernatural it was dead.

"How do you know it's not real?" I questioned, knowing I was taking a risk.

Her eyes wickedly squinted, a thunder brewing behind them."So you don't trust me?" She scowled at me, narrowing her hazy eyes on me.

"You know where my loyalties lie," I retorted, knowing she was also lying. If it were just a made up story she would have hit me for bringing her such nonsense. "I just wanted to know how you were so sure."

"Because I am smarter than you, I know bullshit when I smell it," she sneered, sauntering into the kitchen passing by the plastic black whip that hung from the tan wall, a frigid shudder spread throughout my body, stirring a vicious wave of nausea as my eyes locked onto it.

I snapped out of it, following behind her into the open kitchen that also functioned as her dining room. My feet halted on a cracked dull green tile, observing Tara scouring through a disorganized stack of papers on her small, square kitchen table.

She compiled a stack in her own hands before thrusting them into my chest with a huff. "Corvus Arboreus in Norman, Oklahoma," she informed, before taking a step closer. "If I find out you lied about any of it, your past punishments will look like child's play," she hissed, holding an unsteady finger aimed at me.

"You won't," I replied with a reassuring nod.

"Then get on it," she gruffly spoke, wrapping her hand around the cheap bottle of vodka on her table. "Don't forget what will happen if you decide to disobey again," she added, twisting the cap on her bottle. I could never forget.