Cassandra L. Hinds

When I was younger, immersing myself in water was what calmed me, but as I grow up it might be what will destroy me.

I’m ambling alone under a starry night and the aroma of damp grass fills my nostrils, making me grin. The downpour was exquisite and I would’ve been out in rain too but my ma wouldn’t hear of it. At the sound of her snore, I was out of the cabin and in the nearby forest.

Reaching the lake my smile could not be contained. I sprint toward my liquid sanctuary and almost slip on the rocks and wet grass. All my responsibilities and all the problems from my life flee at the sight of ripples and waves.

A snap of a twig makes me stop at the shoreline. My mother’s words come to mind: Let no one see your gift. If people see what you can do, they will have no problem breaking every humane law there is to figure out why.

I stiffen. Was that movement in the trees I saw? Maybe it was an animal. Could it be?

My body tingles as the water responds to my racing heart and hesitation. The waves grow higher and more violent. The water spins around in circles going faster and faster.

After a minute of silence, I take a deep breath. Nothing to fear.

Slowly a smile grows back on my lips and I free fall backwards underwater.

Time gets lost as I spin around in the water creating currents to push me along. My hair is everywhere as I zoom from one direction to the next.

Laughter erupts from my lungs when I end upside-down and have myself spat up to the surface.

Soon my strength depletes and tiredness overtakes me like a tidal wave.

The temptation to sleep here grips me but my ma would be worried sick if I’m gone when she awakes. So with a groan, I use the last bit of my energy to have the currents pull me back to the shoreline.

As I lay there gazing at the sky someone grabs me by the arm and yanks me to my feet. The man before me smiles deviously, “You’re coming with me.”

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The threat - no promise - of making it happen or else curls around me tight like a python as I sit on my knee in the dark corner of my subject's room. He is sleeping soundly in bed for now. That is until I can figure out my next course of action.

I have to be strategic; there's no way I'm messing up again.

I have one job: make sure my subject dies.

With a cackle I slam his bed into his dresser; knocking over a one-foot heavy glass vase placed beautifully at the edge. I grin ear to ear as it plummets toward his head. As the vase was centimeters away from making an impact one of his angels appeared, yanking him out the way.

I curse, glaring at the guardian angel. Light and love radiate off her, and I for one find that repulsive.

She towers over my subject - who’s now stirred and fully awake - like a mother hen.

“What happened?” he asks, getting off the ground.

His eyes widen on the fallen vase on his pillow and his bed against the dresser. He’s totally oblivious to me and my adversary.

Backing away from his bed as if it were a bomb, my subject looks around his room for a cause, anything to explain what just happened. His breathing becomes fast and shallow and his body shakes. Oh, I wish I could read his mind.

Calmly his angel comes up behind him and puts her hands on his shoulder. She doesn't have him see her; just to feel her touch and hear her voice. “Shh… It’s ok. Everything’s alright.”

“Not on my watch,” I say.

With a snap, I cack everything I can that’s made out of glass. Then I flicker the light off and on, adding to his paranoia. And for a sweet icing on top, I scratch big bold letters on the wall saying, You’re going to die.

Not being able to take it anymore my subject bolts for the door.

His angel snarls down at my triumph. With narrow fiery eyes, she says, “You will not succeed,” and then disappears.

I smirk, “We’ll see about that.”

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Under the tranny controlling my world I do not live, I exist. And even that becomes a chore.

I freeze as shivers slither up my spine and tighten around me like serpents. Some of the tyrants are nearby.

I run to hide behind the nearest building. Cackling rips through my ears, and my screams turned into gasps from the sudden lack of air. My heart gallops as I fall to my knees and my whole body shakes. The words I want to die pound into my mind over and over.

“Get a hold of yourself.” I spat. “I am not afraid and I never will be.”

I force myself to look around. Where were they if they were so close?

Twenty at least are gathered around a house across the street, laughing their heads off. I jump when one rips the door off its hinges and three people are forced outside. Their wails are inhumane and my eyes widen when I realize who they are. My aunt, uncle, and baby cousin!

I look away when three of those demons push them face-forward on the charcoal payment.

Everything in me wants to go over there and kill all twenty of them. Yet their presence from here renders my legs useless and man-made weapons don’t work against them anyway.

The only thing I could do is watch the relatives I spent every holiday with and the cousin I babysat with my brother when my aunt and uncle went to scavenge for food, get tormented.

Four demons each go into each of them, making them convulse violently, and turn their bodies in unnatural ways. They scratch, bite, and even pound their heads against the ground. Their sadistic lust holds no bounds, even when it comes to hurting a four-year-old.

The eight outside my family burn their house down, grinning ear to ear.

When I think the horror is done; my relatives start to tear their clothes, and the eight demons begin to burn them alive.

Tears blur my vision and I’m glad for it.

What feels like an eternity, the evil presence lifts and I'm free to breathe and get up again. When I open my eyes, the demons are gone.

I clench my fists. One day I will find their weakness. I will not rest nor will I stop until all demons are destroyed, even if it kills me.

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