Making Connections

I remember that night, that horrible night, of my mother’s demise. It comes back to me, as it had on the Bus. Was the demon near us then? Is that why I dreamed it then? My heart pounds knowing what I have to see, knowing I have to go through it all. It is the only way for me to be sure.

 

I am running through white halls. My footsteps echo. I can hear my heart pounding. I am terrified. Breathless I reach a door. I knock. Eternity seems to pass before it opens.

“Sedation” I blurt out. The man stares at me. “She has to be sedated.”

“W  h  y  ?” His question takes eons to say.

“Mother says so.”

“H  e  r    p  a  r  e  n  t  s    h  a  v  e    f  o  r  b  a  d  e    i  t  .” I feel as though he is talking through molasses.

“She and the babe will die if she’s not sedated!”

“W  e    c  a  n    n  o  t    g  o    a  g  a  i  n  t    t  h  e    w  i  s  h  e  s    o  f    h  e  r    p  a  r  e  n  t  s.”

“But,” screams break through my reply. I turn and begin to run back. He follows me, but in doing so he has slowed me down. I feel like a video game character whose partner isn’t going in the right direction. I keep running, but I can only go so fast and so far ahead of him. The hall echoes with our footsteps, besides that all is silent.

I can see the door now. Blood oozes from the top, sliding down the small window. My own pace slows. I am behind him now, trying to keep him from reaching the door. My face is wet with tears. I know what’s there. I don’t want to see it again.

“No,” I whisper.

His hand is on the door knob. I am there beside him now, despite my effort not to be. He turns the handle slowly. The door opens.

 

This is when I normally wake screaming. Not now. I can’t let it stop now. I forcefully keep my eyes shut, keep it playing in my head.

 

The attendant screams and faints. I have a clear view of the room. A nasty creature snarls at me and vanishes.

My mom’s body lies bloody and broken on the floor. It is covered in deep scratches that ooze puss. My eyes are filled with tears. I can only collapse at the door. Slowly I look from her to the bed.

The woman who was giving birth lies there. She has been contorted in ways humans weren’t meant to be. Her stomach is ripped open as if the thing had tried to give her a C-section. My stomach turns.

Then I see them, two words in blood at the woman’s feet. They are quickly being erased as the pad absorbs them. But I see them and I read them.

Van Helsing

 

I sit bolt upright. “Ash!” I jump out of bed and peer out the window.

“Are you okay love?” My grandma’s voice floats up the stairs.

“I’m fine Grandma B.” I’m fine, but that’s got to be Ash out there fighting that thing; that thing that took three innocent live, including my mother’s. Was it coming for me? Is another person defending me when I should be able to defend myself? My fists clench in rage. There has to be a way I can help. I grab the silver letter opener from my desk. Then I do something I’ve never done in my almost 20 years of my life. I sneak out of the house.

The End

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