Closing the door behind her, Mercy called out to her mother. Grateful for her taking a sick day, not that she was ever sick. Mercy had never seen her mother so much as cough. And when she thought about it, neither had she. She would chalk it up to genetics, but then was reminded for the second time today, her mother was not her biological mother.
Mercy strolled into the living room, hearing her mother beckon her in. She sounded urgent, must really want her chocolate bar. She thought to tease her a bit.
"I have your chocolate mom, but you can't have it until you help my friend here." That got a reaction out of her mother.
"Friend? You made a friend?" Did her tone have to be so disbelieving? Mercy could make friends. She would just have to drive at least fifty kilometers away to do so.
"Well, not exactly. She will probably be your friend more than mine." Mercy chuckled setting the bags down ont he kitchen counter. Her kitchen was her favorite part of the house. Only one window, meaning they had to get creative with light. The lights that hung were ones that Mercy picked out over the years to replace the ones that had given out. Each unique and antique. She also loved the giant island in the center. A great place to do her studying during the rainy season. No one but her really came into the kitchen. At around age fifteen, she became the cook in the family. And thank gods, she had a gift for cooking. Her parents did not have a culinary bone in their body.
It was nice to know they had a flaw. That she was like a missing piece. Then the thought that her real mother or father might have excelled in the kitchen bit at her subconscious. No, no more today. No more self pity.
"Well, what can I do for this guest you failed to let me know would join us?" Her mother seemed to be in a foul mood. Perhaps Mercy should give her the chocolate before presenting her with the cat.
"I just met her, no, him. I am not entirely sure which gender it is. She has accompanied me since I promised you would take care of them…" Mercy decided the pronoun them would best describe the animal for the time being.
"Mercy, you are making no sense." Those words weren't the harshest Mercy has heard from her mother. But the tone in which she used certainly was not a polite one. What on earth was with her mother today?
"Sorry mother. I meant I found a stray cat. She is injured. At first I thought it might have been a rock I accidentally kicked into the bushes she was taking refuge in. Then I got a closer look and realized it must have been cut. Poor thing. You will take a look at her, won't you, mother?"
Mercy's mother gave a curt nod and made a gesture towards the dining table. Mercy looked at the ground. She had just set down the stray. Where had it gone? She spotted a tail on the other side of the island. Quickly coming behind the cat and snatching it up, she went to her mother.
At first Mercy thought she might have hurt the animal. It yowled and fought against her. But she had made sure to be careful. Perhaps it had internal damage? Oh no. She should have rushed here instead of daydreaming.
"What are you doing to that or animal…" Her mother's voice trailed off, and she froze on the spot. Mercy would have looked up to see what was wrong, but the cat started to fight even harder. Scratching at Mercy's arm. Mercy let her go with a gasp and held her forearm in the palm of her other hand. What was its deal? It had been fine the whole walk here and even when coming in.
"Oh dammit. I don't understand what its problem is. It was a generally docile cat until now." Mercy chuckled and looked up at her mother. Only her mother was not there.
In her mother's place was a beast. A monster with ferocious fangs and yellow irises. Skin as grey as a corpse. Hair covering its shoulders and joints. A mane around its head. Sharp talon like claws protruding from its elongated fingers and toes. It stood like a dog would. A seven foot tall dog. Mercy wanted to scream. She was meant to scream. How could someone look at this and not scream? And yet she stood frozen in shock at the snarling mouth of this creature. Where was her mother? Had it done something to her? Was that why the cat was going absolutely insane? But Mercy would have heard her mother scream. She had heard nothing but her voice break off. Silence. A silence Mercy was now understanding. It had gotten her mother because she also froze.
No. They love me. They do. They have to. She needs them to.
She ran. She had no time to think or process where she would run to. She bolted down the hall. Craning her head down the room entrances trying to see a ball of fur hiding in a corner or latching onto some furniture. She heard utter destruction behind her. She quickened the pace. Reaching the front door and ducking. Some instinct told her to duck. A chair flew over her head and went through the window, inches from where she stood. If she didn't duck, she would have lost her head. She turned back, and the beast was coming her way, clawing at the walls and sneering at her. Taunting her. Playing with its food.
Hell no.
She opened the door and sped down the front lawn. Then down the street, not bothering to look for cars. Her focus behind her. The grey animal now running on all fours down her front lawn and onto the street. She heard a car horn in front of her and her body had her vaulting to the right. Just missing the vehicle.
Her knees hit the concrete and slid a couple of feet. She hissed at the burning pain. Standing on wobbling knees and running once more. The car had not seen the animal; it had jumped over the car.
"Holy shit." She grit out. She turned a corner and careened into an alley hidden behind a bush. Not many knew of it. She used it when running from some boys last year. It only delayed the inevitable the day after they had caught her. Ready for her. She had not been prepared. Even if she had stayed up the whole night before. Scared out of her mind that they might break into her room.
She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the stone wall. Stone bricks dug into her back. She welcomed the discomfort. She needed it to dull the frenzy building up in her mind. She heard the creature tear past her. Literally, taking a few branches with it. She had never held her breath so long in her life. She had done it until she felt her heart might burst and her vision had black spots. And even when she allowed herself to breathe again, it was through the sleeve of her sweater.
What the actual fuck was that? Mercy is never one to cuss out loud. She did it often in her head, though. And right now, curses and inappropriate phrases were running through her head. She slumped down to the ground after a few minutes of silence. It didn't find her. She is safe. She made it. She did it. She is alive. She survived.
She kept trying to calm her breathing with these assurances. She is fine.
A meow to her left had the breath in her lungs dissipate. She slowly turned to find that blasted cat. How the hell is the cat here? How is it okay? How did it find her?
"Looks like you are lucky." Mercy felt faint. She felt cold. She felt frightened and alone. The cat walked past her and down the alley. It was getting dark, and the corner of the alley was almost pitch black.
She needed to get out of here. The exit was also the entrance. She could not see through the leaves. She didn't know if it was waiting out there. What if it was? It had been so quiet in her kitchen. Her nerves were getting the best of her.
"Miss Lockhart." A woman's voice comes from behind Mercy. The adrenaline that had been coursing through Mercy's veins was now entirely spent. If she needs to run, she will need to stand first. The throbbing in her knees hasn't died down. She tries her best not to show she is hurt. No weaknesses. "Please do not be alarmed, I do not mean to cause you any harm. I want to help you." Those words were so familiar to the ones she spoke earlier to the stray cat. The cat that was now nowhere to be seen. A suspicion ran in the back of Mercy's head. A woman finally emerged from the shadows. She wore a cloak with purple accents and silver trim. Jewelry in every place one might find some. They were extravagant pieces, as far as Mercy could tell. She was never one to care for jewelry, they were not allowed to wear it in school.
Glasses sit on the woman's nose and her brow raises, a question of whether Mercy believes her or not. Not would be the correct answer. She wore a hat, with a point at the top. Her whole outfit looked to be a custom made Halloween costume. And Halloween having already passed. It could only suggest one thing about this woman.
She was insane.