THE MONSTER INSIDE ME: The Immortal Chronicles: Book One

by Tristin Clark

  “You two are just too cute. Sorry if I interrupted your little moment together. I saw you both through the window and got all excited and wanted to come say hi, but I’ll let you two say your goodbyes and leave you be.” She turns to Austin. “So glad I got to see you Austin!” she cheerfully says. She turns to me with a wide smirk, raises her brows and winks. “He is cute, Em.”

  Austin bites his bottom lip, to hold back his smile, while I blush with embarrassment.

  “Okay mom... I’ll be in a second.” She tosses her hands up and mouths, “okay,” then heads inside.

  I turn to blue eyes.

  “So, that was my mom.”

  “I know. Where is your father?” he asks.

  “At work. He doesn’t get home until after five.”

  “She hugged me. Why?” he bluntly asks, as if it was the most absurd thing to happen to him. It made him feel uncomfortable. That I could feel.

  “Awe, you poor thing. Being hugged by a human must have been so awful,” I tease. “She’s just super friendly. Sometimes humans can be a little over affectionate.”

  “But she’s not my mate. I don’t understand the affection. She is mated to your father, is she not?”

  “Mated? You mean married? Does your kind not show affection to one another?” I ask.

  “Affection is reserved for mates and family. It is not a trait used towards others. I forget. Humans have a different meaning for mating,” he says.

  “Well, that’s kind of odd and sad. Mating to us just means fucking or procreating.”

  “Used in that way, it means the same to us too.”

  “Okay... I’m confused. How is it different then?” I ask.

  “To be mated, means to be joined by soul. I was wrong. Your mother could not be mated to your father. No human can be mated—" I interrupt him.

  “Not even I? You called me your mate once, before you killed that—” I sigh heavily, at the memory. “You know when I’m talking about.”

  “You are the exception,” he tells me.

  “I am? How? Because of what you are? If I’m your mate, then does that mean that— are we… to be mated?” I nervously ask.

  “Not yet, but soon. Soon, your soul will be mine,” he says with confidence. I swallow hard.

  “Is that why you keep filling me with your—” I don’t get to finish.

  “Filling you with his what?” shouts a voice beside us. I turn, to see Van standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  I gaze back at Austin.

  “Vans here,” I say.

  “I see that,” he grits.

  Van makes her way up the stairs, while Austin lifts my hand and lays a kiss on top of it.

  “I’ll see you soon, Emilia,” he says, just before he turns, glaring at Van as he passes her.

  She glares back at him and then rolls her eyes. I watch him walk away, eyeing me one last time before he disappears behind the tall, green bushes around the corner.

  My friend now stands beside me and follows my gaze.

  “Alright. He’s gone. Eyes on me now,” she orders. I turn to her.

  “Sorry,” I apologize.

  “Right. Well, why don’t we go inside. I need to talk to you about something,” she says.

  “Okay,” I say. We head indoors. Mom pops her head in the foyer, from the living room.

  “Hi Van!” she greets. Van waves.

  “Hey Mrs. Daniel!” she greets.

  “What are you girls up to?” my nosy mother asks.

  “Not much. Just hanging out. Gonna talk about boys. You know. Discuss the normal teenage drama of high school,” Van says.

  “Ahh. Well, have fun with that. Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen sweetie. I’ll be down here if you girls need anything.”

  “Thanks Mrs. Daniel.”

  “Thanks mom,” I say.

  Van and I march up to my room. I enter my bedroom behind her, shut my door and toss my bag by the foot of my bed. Van plops down, on the edge, resting back on her arms. I go and take a seat at my desk, facing towards her.

  “So, what’s up?” I ask. She shakes her head and folds her top lip over her bottom. She pauses in silence, eyeing me, before she speaks.

  “That guy who was recently found beheaded, did you know him?” she asks, and my eyes bulge.

  “What? Why would you ask me that?”

  My heart is pounding. I feel this sense of guilt, but I don’t understand why. I didn’t have anything to do with him. I didn’t have anything to do with his murder, yet why do I feel as though I did?

  “Just curious,” she casually says.

  She’s very calm about this. If she really thought that I had anything to do with these mysterious murders, then she’d be reacting differently, right? Does she suspect something? Van is smart. Maybe she knows more than I. No. That’s not possible. There’s nothing to know.

  “I just don’t understand why you’d ask me if I knew the guy,” I tell her. She raises to sit straight, leaning towards me.

  “Why are you getting so defensive? It was just asking a question. You knew the other two. You wished them dead and then bam, guess what? They dead,” she says.

  “Are you accusing me of magically killing this guy?”

  “No...” she doesn’t seem too sure.

  “Because it sure sounds like it. Plus, I’m sure a lot of people wished Abigail and Aaron dead. They were bullies. Mean, entitled, nasty people. Who wouldn’t wish them dead? And as for the recent guy. He was a dick! Always speeding down our neighborhood street with little kids around. I’m sure many parents wished him dead too.” She looks away for a second and sighs.

  “You have a point.” Her gaze returns to me. “It’s just weird, is all.”

  “What’s weird?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. I guess it’s just a coincidence. Don’t listen to me though. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just trying to piece it all together. Give myself some perspective. Ya know?”

  A part of me wants to tell her about my last encounter with the latest headless victim, but I shut down that thought. She’s already too suspicious. Don’t want to add any more fuel to her flame. I stand and make my way over to sit beside her.

  “Van. No one knows what’s going on. You’re not the only confused person here. We’re all confused. All worried. Scared. Freaked out. It’s crazy what’s happening. Terrifying. On the subject though... my mom did mention something that kind of got me wondering.”

  “What? What did she say?” I bite my lip. I regret opening my mouth. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I felt a sense of betrayal just thinking about telling her what my mother said. Why would I feel betrayal? I have no idea why, but I do.

  “What did she say?” Van asks again, after my silence. I take a deep breath. Just tell her, Emilia.

  “I think I should just show you instead,” I say, before pulling my cell phone out.

  Van leans in, while I google the old archives of our local newspaper online.

  “What are you looking for?” she asks.

  “Just wait. I’ll find it,” I say. Mom had said that the same kind of murders had occurred every twenty years or so, so that’s where I started. Twenty years ago.

  “THE BEHEADER STRIKES AGAIN!” Van reads over my shoulder in horror. “What the fuck?” We both lock eyes. We’re silent, and yes, a bit freaked. Mom was right, but I never doubted her.

  “My mom said her parents lived through it too. Apparently, this happens every twenty years.” Her eyes bulge and gasps.

  “Are you serious? Wait, Wait. Hold on. So, you’re saying this beheader killer is some old dude, who’s been running around town for the past sixty years, just chopping people’s heads off?”

  “That’s exactly what I asked. My mom thinks this person could be a copycat. I honestly can’t imagine some old person, capable of attacking and taking someone’s head off. It takes strength to chop a head off. Not that I’d know. I just know from what I’ve read of course. What I mean is, old people
are weak, right? How could they perform such a crazy act?”

  “Unless it really is a copycat, which means, someone’s carrying on the legacy, but why? And why these people? Is the killer just targeting assholes or is it a coincidence?” she asks.

  “Maybe the killer is some kind of sick, vigilante, ridding the streets of scum,” I say.

  “Umm. I don’t think we should be thanking them for their heroism just yet. Regardless of the killers reasoning and selection, it’s still sick.”

  “Yeah. I know.” We both sit in silence, staring blankly at the news article on my phone.

  “This is crazy,” Van whispers, after a moment.

  “Super crazy,” I say.

  CHAPTER 14 - THIS IS NOT ME

  Van shifts in her seat and turns to me.

  “On a different note. Em. I got to ask you...” I turn towards her. She’s gazing at me with a wondering, serious gaze.

  “Ask me what?”

  “Are you okay? I mean like, are you okay, okay?” She’s hesitant and careful in the way she speaks, trying to be as gentle as she can be. “Because I saw you earlier. You seemed so upset. I’ve never seen you that upset before. You had me worried girl. Then the next time I saw you, you were fine and all cute and cuddly with what’s his name.”

  “Austin. His name is Austin and I’m fine Van. Really. I am,” I assure her with a little smile.

  “Well, you didn’t seem fine. To be honest, you seemed traumatized. Now I’m going to ask you something and I don’t want you getting mad at me. Say you’ll promise you won’t get mad.” Well fuck... what does she plan on asking.

  “I promise. I won’t get mad,” I tell her.

  “Okay... umm. Is there anything going on with you and Austin. I mean like, is he treating you right? Did y’all get into an argument? Or did he— he didn’t like, hurt you or anything, did he?” I gasp and jump to stand, gazing at her, in shock at her accusation.

  “What? No! No. Never. He never hurt me. He would never hurt me,” I strongly state.

  “Okay. Chill girl chill. It was only a question. I had to make sure. I had to know. He just seems like the kind of guy that would—" Oh, Hell no. She is not accusing him of— of— No. Not Austin.

  “That would what? Say it. Spit it out. Tell me what you really think of him.” I command. Van seems taken aback by my aggression. She stands and moves around me, giving us some space.

  “Whoa. What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting so defensive over him? You literally just met him like a few days ago.”

  Why am I acting so defensive? She’s right. I had only met him just a few days ago, but it doesn’t matter if I had only met him just an hour ago. Austin is my life. He has come to mean so much to me, in such a short amount of time.

  I am loyal to him. I care for him and I’m not about to let someone disgrace him behind his back, even if that someone is my best friend. Best friend or not, no one disgraces my— my— mate? Yeah, mate. No one disgraces my mate. I am fuming.

  I want to tell Van that Austin isn’t capable of hurting me. I want to tell her that he only wants to protect me, keep me safe, but I stop myself. She doesn’t deserve an explanation. She doesn’t deserve anything from us.

  “You’re pointing your finger at the wrong guy,” I say, while gazing down at my feet.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks. “Tell her Emilia. Just tell her,” the little faint voice in me urges. I can’t. She won’t believe me. She’ll get mad. She won’t believe me.

  “Nothing. I just meant that I’m sure there’s other boys out there, who are capable of worse. I’m fine Van. You don’t need to worry about me with Austin. We’re fine,” I assure.

  “Okay... but if something does happ—"

  “I said we’re fine!” I snap, eyeing her in fury. Van’s temper only out matches mine, as she takes a step towards me, with blazing eyes and pursed brows.

  “What the Hell has gotten into you? I swear. Ever since that tall boy showed up, you’ve been acting so weird! You and I have been best friends since kindergarten! Kindergarten! Never, once had we let anyone come between us! Not once! Yet you’re allowing this boy, to come into your life and change you, and I’m telling you, it’s not good Em. It’s not good. You seriously need to take a step back and see this for what it really is... before it’s too late.”

  I have no words. A fire within me swirls in a twister of emotions, consuming every part of me on the inside. It’s clouding my judgement, forcing me incapable of words, leaving me only with one, “leave,” it whispers.

  “I think you should leave,” I quietly threaten. I am silently fuming out of my nostrils, gazing up at her, under burning eyes.

  “You know what? Gladly!” She turns to walk away, but then swings back around.

  “Cole mentioned earlier, that he was worried for you. He said he could spot a douchebag when he sees one. He too thinks Austin is a bad influence—" I don’t allow her to finish that sentence.

  “Fuck Cole!” I yell in a fiery rage.

  The fire within burns uncontrollably. I feel it scorching within, almost as if it is feeding off my emotions, and acting on its own. I’ve lost myself. I am losing myself. Something inside me is taking over. It’s eating me. Consuming me. This is not me. This is not me.

  “Fuck Cole? Fuck Cole! Cole is your God damn friend Em! He is worried about you! I am worried about you! He is the reason I came over to see how you were doing. How could you say that about him? You know what? I’m done girl. You need to seriously think about how you are acting and get your life together, but I’m telling you, if you continue to treat us like shit and choose him over us, there will be no more us.”

  She’s serious.

  “Get your shit together. Get some sleep. Your bags are darker than that heart of yours,” she ends.

  “Van...” I begin to say.

  “I’ll see myself out,” she says, before opening my bedroom door and leaving, slamming it behind her. The loud slam, echoes within my chest and I flinch.

  I remain where I am, frozen in place, gazing at the closed door.

  “I’m sorry Van,” I whisper into the nothing.

  What just happened? What is happening to me?

  I take a deep breath and walk towards the window. Van is just stepping into her car. She starts it and glances up. We lock eyes for a short moment, and then she reverses and takes off. I watch her until she is gone.

  I turn around and walk towards my bed. I remove my shoes, socks, and pants and crawl under the sheets. I’m lying on my stomach, face pressed into my pillow and then there’s a knock on my door.

  “It’s me,” I hear my mom say. She enters and I soon feel her crawl up on the bed beside me. “I heard some yelling. Is everything okay? Did you and Van get into an argument?” I raise my face, eyes locked on my pillow.

  “Mom. I really don’t want to talk about it. Please just leave me alone,” I tell her.

  “I was only coming in here to check on you. Do you really want to be alone?” she asks.

  “Yes!” I shout.

  “Okay then! Fine. I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry you and Van got into an argument. I hope you girls make up and put it all behind you. It sucks losing a best friend. That I know all too well,” she says, before getting up and walking away.

  More guilt floods me at my moms, reminder. She had lost her best friend Casey. The one who stole her crush in high school. Cole is Vans crush, yet he wants me. I’m Casey in this scenario. If Van ever found out that I stole her crush... I would lose her. Forever.

  This week just keeps getting better and better…

  I hear my bedroom door shut. I am now all alone. Alone, exhausted, stressed and full of so much guilt. Van was only trying to be a good friend and look out for me. I treated her so poorly. I treated her like shit. I am such a shitty friend. A horrible one. God if she only knew... if she only knew the truth of what happened last weekend. She would hate me forever.

  I open my heavy eyes. It’s d
ark. Night has taken over day. I glance at the clock on my nightstand, 2:23am. I must have crashed out long ago. I don’t remember falling asleep. I really must have been exhausted.

  I attempt to sit up but pause. A heavy arm weighs me down, as it hangs over the side of my waist. I turn my head, following the warm appendage as I caress its smooth skin. I already know who it belongs to. I smile in the darkness. Austin.

  I turn to face him, while still under his arm. My hands reach towards him, cupping his cheeks.

  “You’re awake,” he softy states. His hands slide over mine, caressing them with his thumbs.

  “Mmh hmm. We’re you asleep?” I ask.

  “Yes. I felt you wake,” he says.

  “Oh. I’m sorry I woke you,” I say.

  “Don’t. I’m glad you’re awake. I was worried about you. I felt your stress. I came to you, but you were asleep, so I held you. I gave you peace.” My smile grows and I am filled with so much warmth.

  “What do you mean, you felt my stress?”

  “I felt it from afar. It was strong. We’re more connected than you know. You feel me, as I feel you. Together and when we are apart,” he says, while his hand travels from my shoulder, down my arm. The tingles force me to close my eyes and bite back a moan.

  “That’s crazy and cool, I guess,” I comment under tightly shut eyes.

  His hand closes around my wrist, pulling my arm over his waist. He wants me to hold him and that is exactly what I do.

  “It’s helpful. Allows me to know if you are safe or not, when I’m not around. In time, the bond will become even clearer. Only then, will I know all,” he tells me.

  His hand slides behind my thigh and brings it up, to rest over his own. It then travels to my hip, before finding my ass. He tenderly squeezes and caresses my cheek and I am throbbing after every single pulsating squeeze.

  His other arm slides under my neck. His hand goes around and grips my shoulder. He pull’s himself close and then sneaks his knee up and between my thighs.

  “That’s cool. Does it work for me, when it comes to you?” I ask.

  “I believe so. Do you ever feel random emotions that you are unsure of, when I’m not around?”