Malia

by P. S. Power

  Her parents looked like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar, as well.

  Taking it all in, she just shook her head.

  “Well, that’s going to leave a stain. Why don’t one of you explain this to me, while the others see about cleaning this up and getting rid of the body?”

  She half expected them to try and blame her for it. To claim they’d just found Debbie there, dead already. Instead, Carlos simply smirked a bit.

  “Practical. Yes. Come with me and we’ll talk. Reid, if you’d get in touch with Richard? I think we should finally tell your daughter about what’s really going on here.”

  Jessica liked the sound of that.

  Not that she figured it was going to happen. There had been far too many lies by far.

  Still, listening was better than scrubbing up blood, so she followed the man into the kitchen. He had red on his hands. That was going to have to be cleaned up too.

  Chapter eleven: This isn’t real.

  Carlos, a man that Jessica supposed had been around on rare occasions, through the last ten years or so of her life, in a strange and very sideways fashion, turned to her as soon as they were in the kitchen. The smile on his face wasn’t exactly normal. Feral came to mind, on seeing it. He glanced down at his hands and sighed.

  “You know, Deborah was a useful tool. For a while. The problem with her was a simple one. She wasn’t a team player. We can’t afford to focus on what’s best for the individual, Jessica. We need to think about the good of the whole group. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Things clicked into place then, for the fourth or fifth time in the last days. The man didn’t wait for her answer, before going under his suit jacket, a thing which already had blood on it, to pull the knife that he’d used to murder Debbie out. He made a mistake though, when he did it.

  The blade was a long one. Silver and shiny along its sharpened edges. Nearly a foot long and from the damage done to the neck of the woman who was still in the other room, sharp enough to be threatening. The man’s mistake was brandishing the thing first, trying to intimidate her into complying with whatever it was that he wanted from her.

  Nothing had been spoken of yet, of course. Still, she got it. Carlos, her parents, probably even Nick, were all in on the plan of the moment. She blinked then, her brow furrowing. Attacking the man in front of her was a poor plan, after all. Still, she had time to ask questions. No reason not to work things out, either.

  “Wait.” She didn’t yell the word, managing to sound almost playful, as if there wasn’t proof that this man was willing to kill in the other room already. She smiled, then, trying to stay calm, even as the man looked baffled.

  Probably about her lack of fear. Then, she’d faced a serial killer, a giant compared to her, once or twice a week for a decade and a half. She wasn’t going to win a fight with even a slightly pudgy man who looked like a gay accountant, but she also couldn’t be bothered to be worried about him. He simply wasn’t frightening her. Not even with a knife in his hand. Mark Close had held a knife as well.

  Sure, she didn’t have her best imaginary pal to help her out in the moment, but that was just life.

  She went on, since Carlos wasn’t really ready to move on her at all. She did take a few steps back, then as she moved closer to the counter, smoothly took one of the knives out of the rack of such things kept there. The man went wide eyed then.

  “You didn’t think that I’d protect myself? Or that I don’t get the idea behind all of this? I’ve had days to work it out. Oh, I doubt I have everything, Carlos. Everything I’ve been told in the last week has been a lie, after all. Well, except one thing. Do you know what that is?” She was buying time, since she wasn’t ready to fight a man with a knife, even if she was holding ten inches of death in her own hand at the same time. The wooden handle warmed to her touch.

  It was a strange thing to notice, in the moment.

  The man, his black hair a bit messed up from having killed Debbie, no doubt along with aid in that from her own parents, gave her another feral grin. It was an inhuman thing. Kind of like the one that she’d just seen on Nick, not too long ago. It meant the man was either possessed, or was possibly insane. That or she was hallucinating the whole thing. She was actually going with the first one, at the moment. The man being possessed was a thing she might be able to deal with.

  Having heard the commotion, her parents came to the door of the kitchen, both of them looking… Annoyed. With her, it seemed.

  Her father practically growled at her.

  “Young lady, you will not threaten a guest in this house like that. Put that knife down this minute!”

  She snorted at him. It hurt a bit, not that she was going to let that show.

  “Sorry, dad. Things aren’t going the way you and your group have planned. Not today. Not in this life, either. I’m not going to be possessed, and if you decide to scrap that plan, killing me instead, like you did to Debbie out there, then… Well…” She glanced at the knife in her hand then and smiled. “You know, I’ve lived through a thousand knife fights. To the death. What practice in this do you three have?”

  She was, of course, bluffing.

  A thing that became apparent when Carlos flicked his left hand at her. It was a small movement, but she was flung, bodily, back into the cupboards behind her. The door of one of them cracked under her shoulder. Then she bounced off the counter as she fell on it, the knife still in her hand somehow.

  The man grinned at her again. Through the pain, it was clear that he was creepy as all get out. He stepped in then, his voice low and booming.

  “Do you think that will help you? I was the one who placed those memories in you, little girl. You aren’t special. You’re broken. We, all of us, stole reality from you and nothing you do right now will prevent us from taking you. You are alone. We, our coven, are strong. Might makes right. That is the one rule of the world that you never learned. We didn’t let you. Now, kneel before me.”

  She was about to stab the man, moving to do it in fact, when he flicked his hand at hers again, making the blade go flying. It simply pulled from her fingers, instead of her arm being half torn off. She lost it though, which was a pain. Worse, her parents leapt in then, each grabbing one of her arms. Reid, her father, she was fairly certain of that regardless of the lies everyone had been telling her in the last days, kicked her in the back of the left knee, driving her down, painfully. She didn’t cry out.

  After all, she might not be physically strong, but she wasn’t weak, either.

  There was a surprise for her then, since she was really expecting Carlos to put the blade to her throat or face. Instead he put it away, in a sheath that was under his arm, running alongside his chest. Then he moved in, his eyes glowing. She blinked at it, since the yellow color was familiar to her. She’d seen it before, after all. Except that he wasn’t Deamon. Nick was. At least in reality that was how things were working.

  Meaning that this was a game of some sort. A hallucination. It explained a few things, like her parents behavior being a little off. Even if he were betraying her, her father would have been nicer about things. Her mother would have fussed, at least a bit. This was a trick then, to make her believe she was in peril, even if she actually wasn’t.

  “Ah. Got it. So you’re the butt-fucker. I think I always knew that about you, Carlos. You’re also the naked werewolf? Or at least the thing that you’re hosting is. Too bad.” She meant it, even though she didn’t have a good threat to follow up with. It wasn’t that Carlos was the bad guy, of course. Or, he might well have been. It was just that Nick had Deamon in him and had warned her that something like this might be coming. Not that it was helping her all that much in the moment.

  She really didn’t have a good way to fight back just then. A thing that all of them seemed to know.

  The man laughed, then moved closer, his hands going to his pants.

  “Oh, yes. We did get to have fun the other night. We should do th
at again. Right now, in fact. I’d use your mouth, but you have all those teeth and I don’t think the being we want to place in you will enjoy not having those.” He gestured then, taking his trousers down, then all the way off. He didn’t have anything under them. “Plus, I hear that being anally raped is your worst fear. That makes it even more fun for us. We will break you, little doll. Oh, yes, we will.”

  What he did have, even without underpants, was an erection already. That proved they weren’t in reality, since she was pretty certain she wasn’t the other man’s type at all. Yes, her mother had mentioned that he’d be willing to rape her, but that didn’t mean he was going to get hard that easily over the idea.

  She struggled, which didn’t do much. Both of her parents were holding her and did turn her over like they’d been told, making her lay flat on the floor, then leaned on her arms, making it too hard for her to get up. She, rather brilliantly, was in a skirt, meaning that Carlos didn’t even have to work very hard to get at her panties. Those were ripped off, which got her to wince.

  “Damn it. Those were one of my nice pair, too. Oh, um, by the way, you all might want to run.” She had nothing, of course. It wasn’t even a good bluff.

  The man behind her did something, which was probably spitting on his hand, then stood up and looked around the kitchen. There was a butter dish, which was brought over, no one speaking at all. Then the slightly cool substance was spread on her ass. A finger pushed up inside of her. She faked a laugh.

  “No, really. You don’t have time for this. You need to run.”

  Reid snorted at her.

  “Really? What do you think you’re going to do, Honey? That memory of Malia, it was put there by us. It never really happened. You weren’t a ninja toddler or anything of the sort. It was just meant to teach you to be accepting of Malia, as a friend. That way, when the time came, you’d let her inside. We promised you to her, long ago. It… Well, it’s the price of doing business. We have to provide hosts, in exchange for power.”

  She nodded, then lied, since it was saving her from having her behind raped, for the moment. Given the activity behind her, that wasn’t going to last for long. Still, she spoke, not having anything else left.

  “You had Debbie link herself to Malia. Then, after your little show the other day, when the entity told me about her, you had to change your plans. You betrayed her, in order to free Malia up, so she can be placed inside of me, under your control. Only, you made a mistake.”

  Being ready to thrust into her, no doubt painfully, the being inside of Carlos stopped. She didn’t know if anyone was looking at her strangely, of course. Her face, her left cheek, was pressed firmly into the ceramic tile floor.

  Her mother sounded baffled at least.

  “I’m not sure I follow, Sweetheart. What did we miss?”

  She smiled, which she had to doubt anyone was going to be able to see.

  “Ah, well, you see… When Malia was under Debbie’s control, before she faked that attack on me, we spoke about something. About being friends. We had a deal in place that way. She and I were always friends, first. When Debbie had control of her, or whoever was really pulling the strings, she had to act against that, but now she’s free.” Unless someone else had really made a deal with her, or Jess was simply wrong, of course. If the beings didn’t hold to contracts and deals, then the one she was making up wasn’t going to even scare her parents and Carlos into backing up a bit.

  It seemed to be heading in that way, since the man behind her thrust then, causing her behind to burn. She grunted, as he started to use her there. She kept talking.

  “Bad plan. Don’t you get it? The highest adulation that can be paid is friendship. We, Mal and I were always friends. Best friends. Even when she was forced to betray me.” She stopped then. “Malia! Come out and play!”

  The pain intensified, and she heard her parents laugh. Carlos, or the evil thing inside of him didn’t though. He grunted, a thing which lasted for about thirty seconds. Then he howled and moved back, in a single instant.

  After ten seconds or so, her parents let her go, which let her scramble to her feet. Her behind hurt and she was going to have to get counseling for what had happened, but she knew that taking action was the important part of things in the moment. When she turned, standing there in the kitchen with them, blue dress and black ribbon looking pristine, there was a little girl. One with brown hair so deep it might as well have been black.

  Her eyes glowed though, pure red.

  “We’re friends? For real friends? Not with a deal or you asking for anything?”

  She shrugged, feeling ready to cry. Only fear and anger were keeping that from happening. She could do that later. If she lived.

  “Always. True, I’d thought you were imaginary and didn’t get that you couldn’t help me before, when Debbie had you. Was it Debbie?”

  She wasn’t truly certain of that, but the little girl nodded, her pale face sharp and wise seeming at the same time. Megan tried to run, as Carlos stood up, across the room. Both of them went flying as Mal looked in their directions.

  Then, as if nothing had happened at all, sounding pleasant, in fact, Malia nodded.

  “Yes. Your half-sister. That part is real. Your parents aren’t very good human beings, really. We should kill them. In reality. I mean, if we’re working together? Your true friendship, in exchange for… What is it you want?”

  Jessica nearly blurted out that she really wanted a lot. For a normal life. For her parents not to have been monsters. To undo the last five minutes of her life. Asking for anything like that was a trick though.

  Really, anything she did was, probably.

  “Just your honest friendship. Also, try not to kill me? I don’t know if that can work at all.”

  Malia shrugged.

  “It won’t be easy for you, or fun, but we can do that. Still, I agree. I’ll try not to take your life. This will probably hurt. Even if it isn’t real yet. We need, really, you need, to break out of here, first. That will take a lot more than just killing some people, but we have a bit of time. On the outside, away from this place, I’m still under control. We need to be careful if we’re going to break that.”

  Jessica knew that Mal was her friend. At least it had been in the memories. The flashbacks. Even if they weren’t real, she’d still lived them, over and over.

  Malia smiled then and stepped over to her. Then, instead of moving to hug Jessica, like she thought would happen, she moved to Meg.

  “You are mine now.” Then, in an instant, the little girl was gone.

  Only her mother stood there, the expression on her face was different, familiar though.

  “Don’t worry. We can stop these two. Deamon doesn’t understand yet, so he’ll play along. Even after that.” There was movement then. Things so fast, so brutal that Jess didn’t even have time to scream. Carlos went down first, his head coming off, the knife that he’d had under his arm in Megan’s hand somehow. Then, nearly flickering out of existence, she moved on Reid. He died the same way, managing only to call out first.

  “No! I call on…” Whoever he wanted to get help from didn’t come in time. At least his head wasn’t on his neck any longer.

  Even if he’d betrayed her in the end, or more likely, from the beginning, Jessica felt ill over seeing that. It was bad enough with Carlos, who had at least been possessed. She was happy enough for him to be dead though. With her dad, it was more difficult. Even if he wasn’t her biological father. That still didn’t seem like it would be the real truth.

  Not that it mattered now.

  When her mother, or, really Malia stopped moving, things in her body made popping sounds. Crackling like paper mixed with firecrackers.

  The woman smiled.

  “I don’t have long now. I pushed this vessel too far. She won’t live through this. We need to get you out of here. Unless…” She shrugged then. “Others are coming. If you leave them alive, they might let this go. Or they may come for you, seein
g you as a threat. We can lay in wait and destroy them all. At least if we’re careful about it. You’ll have to do part of the work. It won’t look right, otherwise.” She shook her head, then a little girl stepped out of the body that had once been her mother. She fell to the ground and didn’t move at all. The knife still in her hand.

  Malia faked taking a deep breath.

  “I can enter you here, but not in a way that will let me do more than ride with you. That was how I hid for a long time. Silently watching. Waiting for this to happen. It always went this way. I’m glad that you’re my friend. I’m sorry about the things that these others made me say and do. I tried to warn you. That you should trust no one.”

  “Except you?”

  She giggled then.

  “Of course not. Not yet. I’m your friend, but you can’t be certain of that at all. Now, we have about ten minutes to get ready for the others to come. It won’t be all of them at once. Even in this group, not all of them are truly evil. That Roxy isn’t for instance. She just works with these people in an attempt to save her own life. We need to take Richard first. He’s the dangerous one. Let’s go and stand by the door?”

  That required Jess to pick up the knife. She didn’t think it would be simple or easy. Malia did something then, as they stood there. That was to open the door. Jessica tucked herself right next to it and stood, waiting. Not knowing if she’d be able to act at all. Oddly enough, when Rick, standing tall and red headed, came through the door, he helpfully had a handgun drawn. He was in uniform, which made things harder, since the police, even the Sheriff’s Department, were supposed to be the good guys.

  Not wanting to die, she whipped the sharp knife out, almost without control. Malia reached up and nudged her hand, fast, but carefully. Guiding her to make a perfect cut across the man’s throat. Then she had to stab him for a while, doing the work herself. Even unable to breathe, several shots went off from the handgun. They were deafening. For some reason, nothing touched her.

  She thought that was luck, instead of any skill on her part or even magic. The grunting and slavering man was dying and firing wildly as he did it. That was all. A thing like a slit open neck would probably have ruined most people’s aim.