by Jill Nolan
Dead, dead, dead.
As dead as all the bodies littered on the yard.
My thoughts turn back to events that supposedly didn’t happen. I don’t want to see Mason kill my friends again. I shake my head to clear the unwanted memories. I remind myself that Mason didn’t actually kill them. I believe that now, I do, but I still need reminding.
And then there is the fact that Mason almost killed me. I touch the mostly healed marks on my neck, feeling the raised, jagged lines and spots that I know are still very red. They aren’t small puncture wounds, but at least he didn’t rip my throat out either. Still, it’s not pretty and serves as a cruel reminder of what he did to me.
I know that Mason didn’t mean to hurt me, that Sam somehow fucked with his head, but that doesn't change what I experienced. And the fact that I haven't "remembered" the real version of events the night my friends died just adds to the confusion of how I feel.
The fact is that I don’t know what the hell happened. I believe that Sam killed my friends, implanted the memory of Mason doing it, then implanted something in Mason’s head to attack me, but I don’t know any of that. The memory of Mason killing my friends feels so real that sometimes I can’t fathom how it could be fake. And if it’s not fake, that means Mason chose to attack me. I don’t believe that that’s what happened, but until I discover the truth for myself, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to truly trust Mason.
Damn it. Am I really going to do this now? Willingly subject myself to the worst night of my life over and over until maybe, maybe, I find the truth? I’ve tried doing it before of course, but I’ve never gotten very far; it was too painful to force myself to relive every detail.
But I have to find the truth.
I take a deep breath and grit my teeth. I go through the whole night in my head, trying to find something that doesn’t make sense, trying to find the plot hole. And then I do it again, and again, and again. I force myself to go through every detail, pushing through my anguish and ignoring the tears flowing down my face.
I realize that I don’t know where the gash on my upper arm came from. I didn’t fall, and I don’t remember cutting it on anything. There have been many instances that I’ve gotten cuts or bruises and not remembered their origins, but this is different. This was a deep cut, and I should have remembered how I got it. Unless my adrenaline was so high that I wasn’t feeling anything? I sure felt that backhand, though.
I think about how getting that cut must have felt.
I see a flash of Sam in front of me, his nail sliding across my skin.
What was that? Did that come from one of my nightmares? Something tells me no; that was real.
I pull on that thread of memory, unraveling it. Sam stands before me, claw painfully tearing the flesh of my upper arm. And then I’m in my cabin, the party starting, which leads to my memories of Mason killing everyone.
I go back to Sam standing in front of me. I take a deep breath, knowing I’ll only find more pain but needing to know. I try to yank that thread of memories, so I can see what happened before, but it doesn’t budge so easily. I keep at it, head in my hands, seeing that grotesque version of Sam up close, feeling his nail slice through my arm over and over, trying to figure out what happened before.
What happened before.
What happened before.
Pieces of memories flood my head, full of screaming and pain and blood.
And then I remember everything.
And I wish I hadn’t.
◆◆◆
It starts the same. I'm talking to Allison when the bags game ends, except Nic doesn’t come over to me. He goes to talk to the girl he brought, while Luca makes his way to the tree line to pee. It amuses me that men would rather go outside then in the privacy of a bathroom. If I could pee standing up, maybe I’d think the same way.
We hear Luca yelp. We look towards him, his back still to us.
“You okay?” Nic shouts.
Luca turns and starts walking back towards us sporting a deep, bloody gash on his arm. How in the hell did he manage to cut himself? He looks pissed about it, too.
He walks straight up to the girl Nic brought and hits her. She screams and falls to the ground, holding her face, while everyone else stands in shock for a second. Before we can react, Luca is on top of her, punching her. Everyone starts yelling at Luca, while Nic, Tom, and Chugs work to pull him off, but by now he’s got blood covering his fists, and she isn’t moving.
I feel sick as I look at her bloodied face. I see the rising and falling of her chest, at least indicating she's not dead. Luca is trying to fight his way out of the guys’ grasp. Allison moves towards the girl to help her. I snap out of my shock. “I’ll grab the first aid kit,” I say, my voice unsteady.
I start toward the house as a bad smell permeates the air, a smell of death and decay. Then there’s another scream that sounds like Ben. The first thing I see when I turn around is Ben with his back to us. He falls to the ground, landing on his back, and I vaguely note that his stomach is covered in blood with skin and guts exposed. My attention, though, is pulled to the one standing over him. I recognize him as Sam, but he looks inhuman and grotesque. He stands hunched slightly but too tall. His flesh doesn’t seem to fully cover his body; bone and sinew are visible in multiple areas. At the end of his gangly arms, his claws drip with blood. His lips curl in a sadistic smile, revealing long, sharp teeth.
A few people scream in horror, and someone yells “Run!” I run toward the house, hearing more screams behind me, screams of pain. I don’t look back, though; I’m too scared to lose ground or to trip. I just try not to think about what is happening to my friends behind me, who else is dying. My eyes never leave the door, but somehow Sam gets there before I can, cutting off my path. I skid to a stop and turn around, deciding to run to the forest on the right. My last hope is to get to the neighbor across the street before Sam can get to me, which feels hopeless, considering he shouldn't have reached the door before I did. Allison is running right beside me with Tom just in front of us. Maybe we can make it. I push myself harder, expecting to feel those claws at my back at any second.
"Keegan,” a horrible, raspy voice calls.
I risk a glance behind me. The creature that is Sam has Nic by his neck; his feet are barely touching the ground.
“Keegan,” Sam calls again, drawing out my name.
Fuck. What does he want? I stop and turn around, wondering if I’m making a huge mistake. But the creature is far enough away that I feel relatively safe. As I glance around the yard, I see bloodied bodies scattered everywhere. I pull my eyes back to the monster, trying to figure out what is happening, why it's happening.
“I think your boyfriend will thank me for getting rid of this one, don’t you think?”
Before I can say anything, the creature pulls Nic towards him and bites into his neck, all the while holding my gaze. Nic screams in agony, thrashing helplessly against the creature.
"No!" I scream. But, of course, it’s too late. I cover my mouth with shaking hands, backing away.
Sam pulls away from Nic's neck violently, taking a chunk of flesh with him. I watch in horror as he chews it, swallows it, enjoys it. Nausea threatens to overwhelm me.
Evil. He's pure evil.
Nic holds his hand to his throat, trying to stem the blood flow, but I know there's no hope of that. I turn and run, not wanting to see more, and so afraid for my own life.
I'm panting, pushing myself, trying to survive.
I sense something to my right, but when I look, I don’t see anything. I slow when I spot Tom lying dead on the ground. How?
I'm about to trying running in a different direction when I hear a scream in front of me. Sam has his hands on Allison's shoulders, holding her in place. She's crying, and her face is contorted in pain.
“Please, please let her go.” He doesn’t respond, just smiles creepily. “What do you want?” I scream.
In one fluid movement, he wrenches her he
ad to the side, and there’s a horrible cracking sound.
I scream.
He drops her limp body to the ground, his eyes on me the whole time. Before I can turn to run, he’s in front of me. His big, clawed hand grabs my throat. I kick him while trying to pry his hand from my neck.
“I want my brother back,” he says. “What does he see in you? All I see is weakness.” He studies me, his eyes tracking the tears running down my face.
He touches a claw to my upper arm. I can feel the pressure of it, and I try to look at what he’s doing, but I can’t move my head enough. I scream when I feel a sharp pain. He’s dragging one giant claw down my arm, opening it up. It seems to last a whole minute, and when it’s over, I look back into those soulless eyes. I see his amusement at my pain, and I can’t comprehend how someone could be so cruel.
He lets me go. The events of the last hour leech from my mind, and a new scenario plays itself out, as if I’m actually living it, one where Mason kills everyone. Something hard hits me on the cheek and everything goes dark.
◆◆◆
I haven’t cried in a while, but I’m crying now. It’s as if I’ve just lived it, as if it just happened.
Before I know it, I’m wailing. The new memory, the pain, the loss, everything. Every bad feeling is filling my mind, and all I can do is scream.
I once again feel like I’m being ripped apart. I’m back on my lawn surrounded by the death I thought Mason caused. I’m helpless and desolate, just a pathetic, broken girl.
I think of Mason, how I wish he were here now. He’s the only one that could understand, and the only one whose arms I feel like diving into. I could text him. I could ask for his help this time.
I hear my bedroom door fly open. “Keegan?” I hear the concern in my mom’s voice, but I don’t move from my curled position and I can’t stop my vicious crying. She sits on the bed and half pulls me into her arms. She pets my hair, telling me it’s okay, that it’ll be okay, while my dad stands in the doorway with a pained and helpless expression.
What feels like a long time later, I cry myself out.
“What happened, honey?”
“Bad dream.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
I shake my head no.
“Did you remember something?”
I shake my head again.
“Alright, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”
I wish that were true.
◆◆◆
When my parents go back to bed, I try to sleep, but I can't. While I feel drained and exhausted, I don't feel tired.
Something pings off my window. I get up and look out into the night, alarmed at first. I spot Mason and open the window. A human Mason is sitting on my roof a few paces away, clad in only his black shorts...which means he came here as a vampire.
"Can I come in?" he whispers.
I nod and move out of the way. He makes almost no noise as he climbs in. This is the first time someone's ever snuck in my room through the window. I'm thinking he's lucky my window faces the backyard, which is fairly large and spotted with tall trees, making it almost impossible for a neighbor to see him on the roof or coming through my window.
For a minute, we just stare at each other. He looks concerned, pained even. "Are you okay? The way you were crying..."
"Why were you out there? Do you watch me a lot?"
"Sometimes I check up on you..." He looks worried that I'll be mad, but I'm not. I'm just glad he's here. He steps forward, and gently caresses my cheek. "Are you okay?"
I thought I was all cried out, but a tear runs down my cheek. "I remembered." A few more tears fall down as he pulls me into his arms, but I don't actually cry. "Will you stay with me tonight?"
"Of course."
I lock the bedroom door before getting into bed. I lay on his chest, while the arm he has wrapped around me draws patterns on my shoulder.
"Will you tell me what happened?" he asks.
I can't relive it again by telling him. Not yet. "I can't tonight. Can I tell you another time?"
"Sure." He kisses my head.
Having him here to hold and comfort me helps, I still can't keep the bad thoughts from taking over my head. “Will you talk to me? Tell me stories or something?”
He tells me stories and legends that his grandfather told him. At some point, sleep takes over, and my thoughts cease to be.
Chapter 44
It's been three days since I got my true memories back, and Mason has snuck in and slept over each night. My parents are out tonight, so we have the house to ourselves for a while. As we sit next to each other on the downstairs couch, I finally tell him what happened as he holds me.
When I finish, I ask, "What did he put in your head, that made you attack me?" I pull away from him a little so I can see his face, but he keeps one arm around me still.
"You were an evil witch who had killed my family, seduced me, then planned on killing the family I have now. He made me think you had been deceiving me the whole time we were together."
"I was an evil witch?"
"Yes. Your true face was hideous."
"You tried to kill me because I was ugly, didn't you?"
He laughs softly. "No, of course not.”
"Right," I say, smiling. The smile fades quickly. "Do you still think of me that way?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do you sometimes still think that I might have killed your family or do you sometimes see that hideous face instead of mine?"
"No, of course not. I know that wasn't real."
"It doesn't matter that it wasn't real. You saw it as if it were a memory. It's not like having a bad dream that fades as you wake."
"I don't think of you that way. Okay?"
"Well, what if I think of you that way? I mean, I can still see you killing them, I can still see you twisting her neck, I hear the crack, I feel the loss of her by your hands. And then at your cabin, I know he screwed with your head, but you almost killed me. In my nightmares, sometimes you finish the job. The way you attacked me, the way you looked at me with such hatred, I’ll never forget it. When I look at you, sometimes I see those things. I know that’s not fair. And clearly you're not having the same issues...but I guess I am."
"You just got your memories back, and you're still dealing with it all. It was easier for me, because you never hurt me, and I didn't just lose my best friend. It's not just something you're going to get over right away. It'll take some time. I'll still be here. I'll wait for you, however long it takes."
"What if I never get over it? What if those memories of you haunt me forever?"
"Then let me give you new memories. Do you trust me now?"
"Yes." I put my head down, ashamed that I lost faith in him before, that I couldn't just believe he was innocent.
"That's all that matters. We’ll get through this."
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you before. I'm sorry I—"
"Hey," he says gently, his fingers lightly pulling my chin up until our eyes meet. "I'm not looking for an apology."
"But that hurt you, that I didn't really believe you were innocent."
"Yes, but I understood. I believed a false memory for ten years, even though it now feels like the truth of it was right there the whole time, if I cared to look."
"What do you mean?"
"The way the bodies were cut up, I should have at least suspected my brother. And the fact that the Winnebago denied it, and that the chief chose not to start a war. I wonder if he knew who was responsible, and if I left before he got a chance to tell me. And then there's the fact that I asked for the power to get revenge. I should have known it couldn't have been the Winnebago since I'd woken up when those warriors were long gone. If I hadn't lost consciousness after I made the deal, I would have killed the wrong people. My brother asking to live for three hundred years meant that that's how long I had to wait for revenge," he says sadly. “But it also meant that I found you.”
My heart swel
ls, and I squeeze his hand. "I'm sorry you lost him like that," I say, since I don’t have any words in response to his last statement.
"I lost him a long time ago. I'm lucky that Cody was there, to protect you from me and to kill him. Even with everything that my brother did, it would have been hard to kill him. He wasn't always like that. He was good once."
"I know. How are you dealing with remembering what he did all those years ago?"
"I'm surviving, just like you. It helps being with you." He caresses my cheek, looking deep into me. In his eyes, I see how much he cares for me, and even if sometimes I wish I didn’t, I feel the same way about him.
"You've helped me a lot, too." He's forced me out of the house, kept me company, made me laugh, held me while I cried. He's helping me heal, little by little. In fact, I don't even understand how I've helped him. I've done nothing but blame him for something that wasn't his fault.
He leans in, and I know he's going to kiss me. I panic and put my head down. I feel his forehead touch mine. He doesn't try to find my lips, but being close like this still feels very intimate. We may have kissed twice before, but this would be different. I can feel the charge again at having him close, at his touch, at the way he looks at me. We've just put everything out in the open, and I feel closer to him now than I ever have before. And that scares me.
I told him before that I couldn’t handle any more death. The truth is that of course I can. Whether I’m with him or not, death is a part of life. Being with him means it will be a greater part of my life, but the death that Mason delivers would be to strangers that more or less had it coming (hopefully more). As much as I should care about that, I don't. I know now that Mason would never hurt someone I care about, so it's not like I have to worry about that.
I guess my fear is that something like this could happen again. What if he has or will have other supernatural enemies who will use anyone they can against him? By being with him, am I putting the people I love in danger?
I move my head away from his so I can look in his eyes. "Are there other people out there, other non-human people that would come after you?" I ask.
