CHAPTER 2
"What the fuck, Mom? How could you give my clothes away without asking me? That was my favourite shirt!" I blurted out, the anger vibrating in my chest.
"You have so many clothes, Vivian. What's so wrong if I picked out a few for those who have nothing?" Mom dismissed me with a wave of her hand, never stopping the rhythmic roar of the vacuum cleaner against the living room rug.
Sometimes, she was so incredibly annoying. It was like she didn't hear a word I said.
"I left a list on the kitchen counter," Mom said, still not looking at me. "There's money in my purse. Why don't you go and buy some groceries?"
"You irk me!" I stormed toward the kitchen. "Why don't you send Janette? Aargh!"
But before I could keep screaming—before the insults could even leave my throat—a cold breeze swept through the house. A sharp, stabbing pain exploded in my chest.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move an inch. For a split second, the world turned into heavy, suffocating lead.
"Mom!" I wheezed, my knees hitting the floor. I clutched at my heart, my breathing ragged and shallow.
The vacuum cleaner had died. The house was deathly silent. I looked up to see Mom rushing to the window. She peeled back the curtains, her face pale, her eyes wide with a terror I had never seen before. Without a word to me, she dashed for the front door and sprinted out of the house.
I forced myself to stand, gasping as I regained my composure. What the fuck was wrong with this woman? I stumbled outside to join her, my heart still thumping against my ribs. The moment I stepped onto the porch, the world was frozen in time. Everything had just stopped moving. Suddenly, a building nearby exploded, the sound was so violent that it felt like it happened right inside my ears.
The sight outside was horrifying. Smoke choked the sky, swirling into thick, grey ribbons that blocked the sun. From a distance, we watched a man-like figure suspended in the air, his silhouette burning with a violent, purple energy.
"Quick!" Mom shouted, her composure snapping back into place with a chilling sharpness. "Get inside and find your sister. Now!" Her voice was thick with a fear I'd never heard—a fear that sounded like a warning.
"Hurry up!" she screamed as a blast of power tore through the atmosphere like a crack of thunder.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I scrambled back inside, Mom right on my heels. She flew past me and disappeared into her bedroom. I rushed up the staircase.
"Janette!" I barked, breathless.
Panic clawed at my throat as I burst into my sister's room. It was empty. The air felt cold, undisturbed. This stupid girl... where the hell was she? I raced to the bathroom—nothing. I searched the house, screaming her name until my voice cracked, but the only answer was the distant sound of crumbling stone.
"Mom! Janette isn't here! She must have stepped out—"
I burst into my mother's room and the words died in my throat. The space had been turned upside down, drawers ripped out and mattresses tossed as if a gang of burglars had ransacked the place.
Strewn across the floor were sets of strange wooden keys. I had never seen them before. They looked ancient, carved with symbols that seemed to hum in the dim light.
"Where is it! Where is it!" my mother muttered frantically. She was sweating profusely, her hands trembling as she scattered more of her belongings across the floor in a desperate search.
She wasn't looking for Janette. She was looking for something else.
Mom!" I cried out, but she didn't respond. She looked utterly terrified, her movements frantic and jerky.
Suddenly, a small velvet pouch slipped from an old, brown leather bag she was shaking out. She lunged for it, crouching on the floor and dumping the contents with trembling fingers. From the pouch fell a long, jagged key.
I stepped closer, my throat tight. It didn't look like metal. It looked as if it had been forged from human bone, aged and yellowed. Traces of dried, reddish-black blood were encrusted in the ancient grooves of the skeleton-work. At the sight of it, a strange, misplaced flicker of joy crossed my mother's face.
"Mom, what the hell is that?"
She took a ragged breath. Sweat trickled down her forehead and soaked her brown T-shirt, leaving dark patches under her arms as if she'd been drenched with a bucket of water. She didn't look at me. She just grabbed my wrist, her grip like a vice.
"We need to go!" she hissed, dragging me toward the door.
"What about Jane?" I demanded, digging in my heels.
Mother didn't answer. She simply shoved me out of the room, slammed her door shut, and let go of my wrist. Then, she plunged the bone key into the lock.
To my absolute shock, the bone key fitted perfectly into the lock. As Mom twisted it, I could have sworn I heard her whispering in a strange, guttural language I had never heard before.
When she finally pushed the door open, I forgot how to breathe.
Beyond the threshold of the bedroom, a thick, primal jungle loomed before my eyes. I couldn't believe what I was seeing—how was this possible? My mother's bedroom door was no longer opening into a hallway; it was a gateway to another world.
"Fuck!" I whispered. This felt like one of those fantasy movies. "Mom?"
"I know, baby!" she said, her voice strained as she swung a brown leather satchel over her shoulder—I didn't even see where she'd grabbed it from. "I will explain everything to you later, but I need you to come with me now."
"To where?" I asked, my head spinning.
"A safe place. Honey, we don't have time!" she said anxiously.
Suddenly, a sound like cracking thunder exploded through the sky outside. Before I could take another breath, dark, unearthly figures burst into our house. They didn't use the door; they tore through the walls and furniture in a terrific blast that sent me and my mother flying in opposite directions.
My head cracked against the cold floor, sending a blinding shock of pain through my skull. I groaned, tasting copper in my mouth. Dust and debris rained down around me, and the pain in my head was so intense it felt like my vision was catching fire.
The explosion didn't just break the windows; it shredded the reality of our living room. My eyes shifted in and out of focus, a loud, high-pitched ringing echoing in my ears though I knew there was no bell. I could hear my mother's voice nearby. She was clasping my face in her hands, her lips moving quickly, fear etched deep into her features. She might have been screaming, but I couldn't make out her words through the dizzying fog pulling me toward unconsciousness.
My eyes fluttered closed, and the warmth of her hands vanished. When I forced them open again, I caught a blurry, impossible sight. My mother was standing over me, holding a long, golden spear that rippled with liquid light.
With a roar, she struck at the unearthly creatures that had invaded our home. One by one, her spear turned the shadowy beasts into fiery ash and sprays of black blood. My eyelids felt like lead, heavier than I could fight. I wanted to stay awake, but every time I tried to move, a sharp pain tore through my body—my head felt as if it were being struck by a hammer over and over again.
Then, I felt warm hands lift me from the floor.
"Don't worry, darling, it's going to be fine," Mother said soothingly. I didn't know who this woman was—how she could be this strong. She was carrying me as if I weighed nothing more than a leaf.
My eyes shut again, and finally, I felt myself drifting away into a deep darkness and a strange, heavy quiet.