The Demon Inheritance

THIRTY

There was a dark hallway, a red light glinting against the window. The curtains looked black in the inky depths of night time; the place looked damned, like one of the circles of Hell. I was alone, wandering. There was a draft, although the windows are closed and there was no door. I look for a light switch with my air, but found none. There were no light switches.

I wandered into a room, where the flowing curtain waved me forward. There was a song being sung. It was unmistakingly a Metallica song; I couldn't miss those lyrics anywhere. My brow pinched, and I stepped deeper into the room. "Is there anyone in here?"

The singer stopped. I glanced around the room, although my eyes were greeted by the pits of blackness replacing every object around me. A sudden chill rushed up my arms, sending them up in goosebumps. I attempted to warm them with my hands, glancing about for a source of light.

"I can kill you, if I wanted to," I called in threat, afraid under the dominance in my tone. There was a shuffle of someone rising up out of bed, their feet hitting the floor. "Who are you?"

"Emma? Emma, are you awake?" It was Mary's voice, drowned in concern. "You're up, Sis. Did you have those night terrors again? Are you recovered?"

"I'm never recovered," I answered without thinking, sticking my hands in a Oliver's hoodie's pockets. I didn't even know I had this clothes on. "When did you get to my home?"

I could hardly see in this Hell, so I was surprised when her arms suddenly clasped around me. I patted her knotted black curls with a hand. Half ignoring the embrace, I glanced around. There was suddenly light. The place was ruined, speckles of light shining through cracked spaces in the wooden wall. It suddenly looked midday outside. The curtain stops flowing, lying still over the spider web-pattern cracks on the window. The bed was rough with yellow splotches over it, and the blankets are all just towels. Cobwebs littered the walls, as does the dust. For a moment, I wondered why my home looked so ruined. Then, I realized I have only seen this place a couple of times in my life.

"Emma," said my best friend, "This is our home. We came here after the accident. Don't you remember?"

"What?" I felt sick. I couldn't remember anything about this new place. All I could remember, is that I dreamed this once. "What happened?"

"Our families are dead..." Her hug became even tighter, more desperate. And Mary's breath became frail and delicate. I hugged her back, careful not to break her, as if she were paper-thin glass. "We went into the forest. We live here now... Are you sure you don't remember?"

I glanced around the broken room. I could remember the fight, and all the blood. "Yeah... I remember... I wish that I didn't..." On the wall, I spotted my sword. "W-what now, Mary?"

Mary gave a shaky breath. "Now... we wait. We survive."

The two of us sat on the floor. I buried my hands into my hand. I didn't want to do anything else to do with Croma, or life in general. But there was a reason I hadn't killed myself with the sword. What was it? When there was nothing left of the life I once knew, why keep on?

Mary leaned against me. Suddenly, I didn't feel so afraid or desperate anymore. I knew. I had the same reason for fighting that I always had.

I had to protect Mary.

That would never change.