The forest was a blur. How long had she been running? Minutes? Hours? She just needed to get away, she just needed to go… where? Val came to a stop and collapsed at the trunk of a towering birch, burying her head in her arms. The entire forest silenced at her wails. Her vision blurred from tears, and the darkness of night warped everything into menacing, obscure shapes.
Not realizing she’d fallen asleep, Val awoke to see that the blackness had thinned; rays of red, yellow, and ochre were beginning to break through. It felt like she’d been out for a few hours, but for all she knew, it could have been days. She turned to go back, but stopped, remembering what she had done. Was Ligel even alive?
“Stupid!” She punched herself in the head.
“I’m a monster!” She continued striking herself as if she could banish whatever was inside. Whatever had struck Ligel.
“I’m a…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Her knees gave out and the pain of starvation swept over again. Survival overpowered guilt as the animal instincts slowly wound back into gear.
In the corner of her eye, a rabbit sat ten yards away. Her heart jumped as she narrowed onto the creature. It sat peacefully in the grass, wiggling its nose as it scratched behind long ears.
A breeze blew past and she could smell it. The scent was captivating. All she needed was to crush it and swallow the creature whole. She moved her arms to better position herself, but paused. She remembered the deer and tears ran down her face.
No. Not again.
Defeated, she threw her back against the tree and slouched. The rabbit perked its head, then bolted.
Anger and pain and hopelessness spiraled inward; once they laid root, she knew she’d be lost. Images of Ligel and Crystal pooled to the surface. Jason, his strong arms gripped around her. Her parents, her friends. She had so much to get back. She had everything to get back. If only she could find a way out. Out of this forest, out of…whatever it was that had cursed her.
Using every ounce of willpower left in her body, Val forced herself up. She didn’t move until she had calmed down; not until she could focus enough to determine what direction the smell of the flora began to fade. If she was lucky, that was where the asphalt of civilization would start.
By sunrise, she had made it out of the woods. An unknown highway stretched for what seemed like forever. She walked along the edge of the road for hours, not seeming to get any closer to a city. A few cars had passed, but each one sped by. She couldn’t blame them. She was emaciated, pale, and her hair was a matted mess of tangles and dirt. The dark circles under her bloodshot eyes alone made her look like she was on drugs.
That would actually be safer, she thought to herself. Drug addicts don’t need to worry about accidentally eating whoever picked them up.
Lost in a haze of heat and hunger, she pressed forward. Another car was coming up behind, but instead of driving past, tires could be heard rumbling onto the shoulder. She turned around and saw a beige SUV pull over a few yards behind. An older man, perhaps mid-sixties, stepped out of the passenger door and waved to her.
“Young lady! Do you need a ride?”
Afraid of what she might do, Val shook her head, preparing to go into a brief sprint and leave him miles behind. Her attempt at escape led only to a mouthful of dirt and gravel. She was exhausted; running on fumes. She was unable to even speak a warning to her savior, much less evade him.
“Franklin, hurry and get her to the car!” a woman’s voice yelled from the vehicle. Val weakly raised her head and saw an older woman get out of the driver’s seat and walk toward them. She kneeled beside Val and smiled.
“It’s going to be okay, hon. Just rest, we’re going to get you to help.”
“No, please… It’s too dangerous... No hospitals…”
Everything after that was a blur. Someone had picked her up and secured her in the backseat of the car. Val stayed conscious the entire ride but remained in that trance-like state like anesthesia was about to take over. She could barely feel her body, and her mind was drifting somewhere else. The road bumped and twisted for about thirty minutes until the car came to a stop again. The smell of freshly cut grass, fast food—and more overwhelmingly—people, all flooded her nostrils at once. The surge of scents and the memories attached was too much. By some miracle, right when she was going to pass out, there were hands helping her out of the car and leading her into a large, Victorian style house.
“Please…get away from me…” Val pleaded through hoarse mumbles. “Dangerous…”
“Nonsense,” the older woman snapped. “I don’t care what kind of trouble you have found yourself in, or who may be after you. It just wouldn’t be moral to leave you on the streets in your condition. Here, have a seat at the table,” she gently commanded as they entered the dining room.
It was a lovely home, the furnishings reflective of the classy exterior. The dining room housed a beautiful, solid oak table with a polished glass face. An elaborate chandelier hung overhead, lighting the room with a near sun-like glow. Paintings of the couple decorated the walls, along with whom Val assumed to be family members.
“I am so happy dinner was already prepared before we had to head out earlier,” the woman continued. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days, dear. Here, start with this soup. Franklin and I will fix you a plate.”
Knowing it wouldn’t fill her, but unable to turn down her stomach’s protests, Val raised the spoon to her mouth. The taste of fresh crab meat and shrimp exploded on her tongue. She bit down on her lip to stop from moaning as the creamy, ambrosial sensation coursed through her mouth. It had been over a year since she’d eaten seafood, and even then, it had never been of this caliber.
As Val savored the soup, she remembered what Crystal had said about her metabolism. If she burned food calories, then perhaps she could eat slow enough to get out of the house without incident. Val continued to formulate a plan, one sip at a time, but her train of thought was soon interrupted by the other woman introducing herself.
“I’m Elaine, and that’s my husband, Franklin.” Val looked up and could see her more clearly. She was a small, plump woman with curly silver hair. It was almost comical to see her beside her husband, who was all skin and bones and at least six feet tall.
“Thank you,” Val mumbled between mouthfuls.
“No problem at all,” Franklin replied, taking his seat at the table. “Like Elaine said, it just wouldn’t have been right to leave you out there.”
“But I look like a mess,” Val said, dropping her gaze to her filthy clothes. “Most people would have been afraid…”
“See that picture over there?” Elaine asked, pointing to an old photograph of a man in his late twenties. “That’s our oldest, Edward. He wasn’t a bad kid, not at all. He just made some bad choices and needed a helping hand to get back up. He got mixed up with some gang, and the drugs turned him into someone else.”
Val gulped. “What happened to him?”
“Well,” Elaine continued, “it took him a while, but he’s finally back on his feet. You wouldn’t even recognize him now: a stable job, married, even has a little one on the way.”
“That’s incredible,” Val said. She pulled her gaze from the picture and looked back to Elaine. “What—what brought him back?”
“Anyone else would tell you it was the counseling, but if you ask me, it was love. We saw where he was but remembered who he used to be. That person was still in there and he deserved a second chance. When we saw you, we couldn’t help but think about Edward. When he came back to us, he was scared and alone. But he made it through in the end. Whatever you’ve got yourself mixed into, it doesn’t make you any less of a person than me or Franklin; it just means you got a different battle that ya gotta fight through.”
“And not to contradict Elaine in the slightest, but we have our conceal and carry permits,” Franklin chimed in with a laugh. “If you were to try anything, we’d be okay.”
There was something about his bluntness
and humor that put Val at ease. As she paced herself through the meal, she found herself smiling and engaging in small talk with the couple, which eventually evolved into a full conversation of families, friends, and work history.
In reality, a conversation may have been a bit too strong of a word. Franklin and Elaine did the majority of the talking, often to each other, reminiscing on some person or place. Val knew that she needed to leave but couldn’t bring herself to step away. She had been running for so long, and for the first time in over a year, she was talking to actual humans. Despite her stomach’s rage, Val forced her smile to persist, genuinely enjoying the couple’s company.
The meal began to subside, and Val saw the mountain of empty plates in front of her. Even after pacing herself, she was still starving. As much as she tried to ignore it, the scent of her hosts was beginning to burrow its way into her nostrils. The lavender scent from their laundry still enveloped them, mixing with their natural aromas until it began to call, begging her to make a move. The sweat that moistened their skin gave it a glistening sheen under the light of the chandelier. She tried to ignore the way their muscles flexed at their slightest movements, but she couldn’t. The beast inside was crying out. The main course still awaited.
“I won’t!” Val screamed. She shook her head violently and smashed her fists into the table.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Elaine cried, running to the girl’s side. As soon as her hand rested on Val’s shoulder, it was over. The human contact was too much. The older woman’s rapid breathing and heartbeat shoved Val over the edge.
“I’m sorry,” Val whispered. She turned her head to face the older woman. A deranged smile slowly cracked across her face, and her mouth began to open— only to snap down on Elaine’s arm.
Chapter 7
It had been nearly a week and Val still couldn’t get all the blood from beneath her fingernails. She still couldn’t shake the memories from that night. She’d been so consumed by hunger that she didn’t hear the dull thud of Elaine’s hand hitting the floor. She didn’t hear the gunshot from Franklin’s nine-millimeter as he lunged across the table to save his wife; she didn’t feel the bullets as they tore through her body. She didn’t even hear their screams.
She wished that she could have given them the farewell that they deserved, but you can’t properly lay someone to rest if there isn’t a body left to bury. All she had been able to do was clean up the blood.
She’d collected the shells from Franklin’s gun, washed and put away the dishes, and put the room back together as best as she could. She had left a window open to air out bleach, but that was the only thing out of place. If anyone ever went into the house to investigate the couple’s disappearance, it would lead to a missing person’s case and not a murder—or at least, that’s what she hoped.
“Is this real?” she asked herself, looking out the smudged window from her seat on a city bus. She had found three hundred dollars in Elaine’s purse when she was cleaning up and had decided to get as far away from the house as possible. Exiting the bus several hours later, Val found herself lost in the swarm of people. New York really was the city that never slept.
Being in the midst of such a large crowd made her finally realize why Crystal had adamantly forbade visiting the city. The people pushing against her as they hurried past left their scent floating before her, like dark spirits trailing to all-you-can-eat buffets.
Beginning to feel lightheaded from the sensory assault, Val veered from the crowd and rested her back against one of the connecting alleyway’s brick walls. She watched as the masses marched to and fro, passing cars and street lights illuminating their paths.
There used to be a time in which she’d gaze upon someone and see a story. She would imagine where the person had grown up and how he or she was raised. Did he have a dog as a child? Did she have a boyfriend? Did that couple have children, already grown and starting families of their own? But that part of her was gone now. Its inquisitive voice had been drowned by the terminal disease. The inoperable, systemic disease. Now, all she saw was food.
Loud snoring drew her attention to a man slumped on the ground next to the dumpster further down the alley. She took a few hesitant steps toward him and saw that he was fast asleep next to a can of spare change and loose bills.
He never asked to be like this, she thought to herself. She knelt beside him. Whether he made a mistake that had led him here, or just had bad luck, there he was in front of her. Thousands of people walked past that alley every day, and who knew how many people walked through it. They knew. If people would ignore something as simple as homelessness, what hope was there for her?
Elaine… Franklin…
That had been the first time she truly felt full. Even when Crystal’s food assuaged the longing, it was nowhere near as satisfying.
Val reached out her hand and gently caressed the man’s cheek. He awoke with a start and scrambled back against the wall. Seizing his neck, Val yanked him up and pinned him against the dumpster. She crinkled her nose and tried not to inhale the stench. Her eyes wandered across his ripped and dirt-stained clothes until they fell back on eyes darting every direction in search of escape.
She ran her hand down his face again, fingers grazing the rough edges of his beard.
Maybe some people are just born to be broken. Born to be the victims of life…
“Shhh…” she whispered, placing a finger against his quivering lips. “We’re going to help each other out right now, okay? Neither one of us will hurt anymore.”
Born to be a monster.
The TV screen shifted to the depiction of yet another reporter in a cheap suit standing in an empty street.
“Good evening, New York. The manhunt in the string of brutal murders reaches its third month today. Originally believed to be a wild animal, the ME’s report stated that the teeth marks are human. As sickening as it sounds, it would appear our serial killer is a cannibal. Here’s a comment from NYPD’s Captain Madison O’Riley earlier this afternoon:”
“Whoever’s behind this is not a slow, meticulous killer, but someone wild and impulsive. He has worked his way from the outskirts of Brooklyn into Queens. It started off with junkies and petty criminals, but he’s becoming more indiscriminate. For the safety of all citizens, the city wide curfew is still in effect.”
“You said ‘more indiscriminate.’ Do you think this has anything to do with the bartender killed last week on 5th?”
“No comment.”
“Alright. Well, Captain, do you have any words for the people of New York?”
“This killer is not someone to be taken lightly. Keep your doors locked and be cautious around any unusual behavior. We will not stop until we have brought this psychopath to justice and he has been punished to the fullest extent of the law.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Now—”
The TV flickered to a different station.
“You sure?”
“I’ve been watching for months, angel dearest. It’s her. Besides, they were talking about her on the news at the coffee shop I was just—"
“You stopped to get coffee?!”
The creature winced then sighed audibly into the receiver. “I know you’re not used to talking on phones, but that almost took my eardrum out. And yes, yes, I did. I haven’t had a frappé in months.”
“Well… I guess it’s better than if the twins went, ya know? They’d still be arguing over whether or not to get crem.”
“You mean cream?”
“I don’t know, and honestly, don’t care. Forgive me for choosing not to consume overpriced liquid sugar. What did the reporter say?”
“It’s beautiful, really. Started off trying to only hunt the… undesirables, and now the streets are running with blood. I have to admit, it’s a bit of a turn on.”
“Lovely.”
“You should’ve come with me. When was the last time you stepped down here?”
“Florida.”
“Don’t say it
like that, you know I wanted to do that one. Besides, you weren’t even there for a full minute.”
“And even that was too long. Shouldn’t you be going?”
“Whatever. We’ll see you in twenty.”
Rain poured onto the empty streets of the city. The hellish frenzy of taxis, pedestrians, and bicycles was now a deafening calm. The roaring sounds of car horns and people yelling were now replaced by the steady crash of rain and the stomping of boots.
Having chased their suspect into the warded off division, the police had barricaded a two-block radius to ensure that nothing got in or out until they caught their man. A series of brutal killings with evidence of cannibalism had raged through New York City for almost a year, and it seemed that today, it would finally come to an end. The SWAT. teams flooded the streets, searching every building, car, and possible crevice where the culprit could be hiding.
Thunder crashed. In the dead air that followed, a shadowy figure darted from behind a truck before disappearing into an alleyway.
One of the platoon leaders, a sergeant named Don Costello, stopped in his tracks and ordered his division to follow. The men did as ordered, but no one could shake the feeling that they were being watched. Wherever they went, the sound of footsteps and splashing echoed from above.
“Sir, look up there,” one of the men yelled. A light shot to the rooftop above the alley’s entrance. A man clothed in black curiously glanced down at them. The rain plastered his t-shirt to his chest and dark dreadlocks veiled his face. His hands and half of his forearms were tightly wrapped in a dark material that formed a flexible gauntlet. In between the wrap and the edge of his sleeve was a series of twisting tattoos on olive brown skin.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you!” the stranger shouted down. His voice was tinged with a strange accent. “She’s in a bit of a bad mood. Plus, she’s hungry.”
Costello was too focused to hear the warning tone in the man’s voice and turned to face his men.
When We Were Still Human Page 7
