by Martha Woods
She wasn't going to be able to kill him. She couldn't fight him. There was nothing else that could possibly work.
“How you want to die? Do you expect me to drain your blood? Snap your neck or maybe I could puncture your stomach. That's a fun one. It's one of the most painful ways to go because the stomach acid eats right through you, and it takes forever. So what do you think?”
Sara wasn't being given any choice in the matter, not one thing she said would stop him.
“Sara I love you!”
That was the hardest part. She had a reason to care about her life. After her mother had died, Sarah gave up entirely. She wanted to die, and she felt that way for a long time. Now that she wanted to live, blood was pouring out of the hole where her finger had been. The seething pain was taking over her mind, and all she could think of was how badly she wanted to be with him. She wasn't supposed to die. That's not what her mother would've wanted.
Sara closed her eyes, breathed in deep and feel into the blue pool hidden deep within her gut. It was power but was it enough. He needed the scythe. It was the only power she had now, and the pain from her finger was starting to cause it to boil. Soon it rose up to the surface and her focus traveled with it, up her spine.
It was so cold it would burn anything that touched it. A smile crept up its lips. She still had that fire.
“I guess we'll do the stomach.”
Sara laughed quietly, watching the fire lap at her feet. It spread so fast that Stuart barely noticed. He was too busy gauging the placement of her stomach. He pulled back his hand with one finger ready to pierce through her skin.
He stepped back, his jaw wide open as that fire engulfed her body. Then, with a single thought her wrath erupted in a ball of flames that stuck to his skin. “Ah!”
The skin on his face disintegrated and turned to ash, revealing the stark white muscle below. It never got farther than that, though. Instead, the skin kept trying to heal itself while the fire ate at it, placing Stuart in a state of perpetual torture that wouldn't stop. Instead, the fire at his whole body, tearing through his chest and eating it while it tried to repair himself, eating his stomach while Sara laughed.
“Stop! Please! Stop!”
“You killed my mother.” She said coldly. Then she turned around. “Caleb? How do I find you?”
“Just keep walking back.” Sara struggled to get away, hindered by the pain where her finger used to be and the deafening sound of Stuart's screams.
“I'm coming.” The light cast a blue glow on the floor around her and eventually stood out enough for her to make out the shape of a golden chain. She followed it as best she could until she reached Caleb who had a chain around his foot.
“Thank God.” He struggled to get up from where he'd collapsed on the floor. He was pale and sweating. “Get rid of the fire.”
She used it to eat through his chains then let it flow into the ground.
“Let's go home, Caleb.”
“Come on.” He picked her up and stopped at his brother's glowing form. “I'm sorry, Stuart, but you did this to yourself.” Stuart was too busy screaming to even notice that Caleb said anything. Caleb ducked down and picked up her finger laying on the concrete.
“Can it be reattached?”
“Yes.” He started running back to the house.
Chapter 21
Margaret was sitting at the edge of the barrier with her grimoire with puffy red eyes when Caleb stopped, holding Sara close in his arms.
“Oh, my god. Is she OK?”
“I'm alright.” Caleb let her down gently. She was trying to ignore the pain in her finger, but the air tore at it while they ran.
“What's that?” Margaret pointed to Sara's finger.
Caleb took his wrist and cut it open. Then he spread drops blood on the inside of the finger. “Give me your hand.”
Sara gave it to him. He pressed the finger back in place and with a maddening itch it reattached immediately. Sara breathed a sigh of relief. The pain was fading every second.
“Grandma, let him in.” Sara said.
“What happened?” She asked skeptically.
“He's burning up in blue fire, but he's still alive. Let him in please.”
Margaret looked to Caleb then back at Sara. “Fine.” She closed her eyes and whispered something. Then she made the motion of opening a gate and something whipped past at light speed and tackled her to the ground. Caleb jolted forward, stopped in front of her and reached down so he could throw Stuart away from her.
Stuart fell to the ground sending a circle of dust flying around him like a mushroom cloud.
“Here,” Caleb helped her up. Then he ran to Sara, and she crashed onto the porch when he threw her down so he could rush to Margaret's side.
“Malleus.” The air got cold.
“I'm sorry Stuart.” Tears were flying down his face.
“Malleus.” Everything seemed to freeze.
Stuart stood up and ran as fast as he could towards Margaret. “AAH!”
Caleb jumped forward and threw him close directly into the scythe's path in front of Margaret. “Why did you do this? You could've lived forever Stuart.”
“Malleus.” Sara pulled back from the shadow, and that took up half the porch.
“Don't.” Stuart was trembling and crying. “Caleb...” He faced with brother, apparently desperate to find a way to live.
“No, Stuart. You did this to yourself.”
“Malleus.” The shadow transformed itself into the shape of a scythe. Sara had never felt so cold in her entire life. She could get into its path. She panicked and jumped off the porch just in time for it to reach Stuart. Caleb collapsed at his side.
Sara moved fast, knelt down and held him while he beat on his brother's body screaming at the top of his lungs. “Why?” He sobbed. “Why did you have to do this, Stuart?”
“It's OK, Caleb.” She pulled him in, and he sobbed into her chest. They finally got him inside after about an hour and let him sit at the table crying.
Sara turned to her Grandmother. “He loves me. I need you to accept that.”
Margaret hugged Sara and said, “I do.”
