The Boy Who Would Be King

Chapter 12

Max

Oh god, Carla.

Our boy has passed out on me.

If only you were here. You would know what to do.

I hear rustling outside. For a moment I think it is the paramedics. They've finally come to help our boy, thank god.

But I hear something else. I hear whoops and hollers down below, and howls and yelps.

Then I look down at our boy. He's out like a light, still holding my hand like he did when he was ten and afraid of the dark.

His skin is still boiling against mine, and I think- I think I finally know what this is about.

But we knew this day might come, didn't we?

They're coming for me.

There's a growl coming closer and closer to the window. I gulp, fear rising up in my stomach.

I pull out my silver knife from my back pocket, the one I've kept since...

I hope they won't hurt Ellis. He's in enough pain already. Watching him suffer like this has made me suffer, too.

A thud sounds by the door, followed by a snarl.

I'm clutching my knife in my hand, and I leap up as fast as my old joints will let me, letting go of Elli's hand.

The thing just stands there, barely fitting through the doorway, the boards creaking beneath its feet. The whole structure just might collapse- it's too much weight.

It snarls at me, flashing a grimace full of sharp, white teeth my way. I clutch my knife tighter in my hand.

If this is how I go, so be it. I won't let my grandson or my daughter die in vain again.

I flash the silver its way.

"I won't let you take my life away from me again, monster!" I shout. I hope Ellis can't hear me. I glance over at him. He's twitching now, sweat forms in beads along his forehead.

The monster follows my glance, looking at the boy and then back to me, a big toothy grin pointed towards me.

It growls, taking a step forward. I feel myself move, and before I know it I'm backed into the corner of the wooden house.

Another thud echoes, and I see dust and wood chips fall from the ceiling, settling against the wooden floor.

"Please-" I'm begging now. I'm begging to monsters.

I still hold the knife, although I grip it loosely now. If I drop it, they might spare me, but then I will have nothing to fight them off. They didn't come here to make peace. No, they came for something.

They're so close to me now that I can feel their hot breath against my cheek and it burns.

The first monster snarls at me again, and I feel my face go white.

This is it.

I look at Ellis in the other corner. The second monster, stumbles over to him, nudging his limp body with his nose.

"No!" I shout, tears rushing to my eyes again.

Ellis is going to die just like my daughter did. And this time I will have to watch it happen before my very own eyes.

I can't take it.

I grip the knife so tightly in my hand that my knuckles turn white.

The beast in front of me stares me down, flashing its teeth again.

"You sons of bitches took my daughter; I won't let you take my grandson, too!"

I leap at the beast in front of me, jabbing my silver knife into its chest and seeing it yelp.

I can hear the sizzle of the silver blade against the monster's skin, and it makes a sick smile come to my face.

After all these years, this is what revenge feel s like.

But the monster isn't dead. An old man with a silver knife couldn't kill a beast like this, and I knew that when I stabbed it.

It snaps its teeth at me as I twist the knife further into its chest. It lets out a stiff howl, and comes at me, those white teeth meeting against my chest.

I close my eyes. The last sight I want to see before I die is not the white teeth of a monster, but my grandson.

I catch a glimpse of his face before I feel the teeth sink into my own flesh and smell the scent of my own blood as it mixes with the air.

I think about Ellis. How he always had his mother's smile, and his father's olive green eyes. How his first word was the name of our dog. How he liked to run around the yard naked when his grandma told him it was bath time.

And my last thought before I drift away is that I'm sorry.