Page 4 of A Surrender Of Hope

“The spell on her magic will hold no matter what, Erin,” Lucas reassures her. “Even if they find us, she’ll be safe in this world. Despite having the sight, she is no more than the rest of the humans. He’ll never find her.” Lucas wraps Erin in his arms, turning to head back inside just as a bone-chilling howl echoes through the evening air, making the hair on my arms stand on end. They freeze just as the baby starts to whimper. Her bright green eyes well with tears as another howl sounds, then another.

“Lucas,” the woman rasps, blood draining from her face as he shoves the baby in her arms.

“Run,” he yells. “You know where to go.” Erin releases a small sob before holding the baby to her chest, and she takes off with more speed than I thought she would possess. I follow her as Lucas runs into the cabin, the urge to keep her in my sight is something I can’t ignore.

“It’s okay, love,” she soothes as she runs, darting between the trees as she weaves further into the forest. I pant as I run after her, kicking off the silly blue slippers so I can attempt to catch up. Movement to the right makes me pull up short, just as Erin does the same. She presses the baby closer to her chest, kissing the crying child on a chubby cheek as she suddenly darts to the left and keeps running.

“Shit!” I run after her, then gasp when three Beastia charge in front of me. They pay me no mind, their attention solely on Erin as she runs with her baby. “Run faster!” I scream at her, even though I know she can’t hear me. I fall behind, and then when I hear a scream, I almost fall to the ground, and the world starts to spin. “No, no, no!” I cry out, desperate to find Erin and her baby. I need to know they’re okay! But as the ground shifts under my feet, I know it's a lost cause, and I slam my eyes shut as the world darkens, only to lighten again.

“I’m going to be sick,” I moan, my body screaming in pain as I try to once again gather my wits about me and see where the hell I’m at this time. There’s only a flash of light, but I’m able to see an older woman holding a baby in a small room.

“Poor thing was found in the woods. It looks like the mother hid her, and whatever wild animal got the mother, the father never found the babe. Lucky little thing,” an older woman with cotton white hair coos at the tiny blonde-haired baby in her arms.

“Those forests are dangerous. Why anyone tries to live up there is a mystery to me. Too many bears and wolves. Now,this one will end up in an orphanage,” another woman says, bringing over a small bottle and handing it to the woman.

And then the flash is gone, and the older woman and baby are replaced with a young girl with long white-blond hair and green eyes. Tears trail down her face as she hides under her bed.

“Come out, dear,” an older man says, beckoning her out with an annoyed sigh. “She’s not right in the head, Meredith. I told you we shouldn’t have taken her. Talking about silly monsters in the shadows,” he grumbles as he sits up and shakes his head. I look from the girl to the darkened window of the tiny house and gasp when I see the glowing red eyes staring back at me.

Beastia. Dozens of them.

The light in the room shifts, and suddenly, the older man is gone as the young girl climbs out from under her bed and creeps to the window, her steps slow but sure. The moment she’s in view, the Beastia snarl and snap at her, the sound making my blood run cold as they throw themselves against the glass of the window and make it crack. The girl simply stares at them; the fear she previously wore on her face is gone as she slowly raises a hand up, palm toward the window. A soft glow of red magic gradually grows at the center of her hand, from a small, almost non-existent ember to a bright, fiery light. I cringe and step back, bringing my hand up to shelter my eyes from the intense light now filling the room around me. Suddenly the Beastia outside stop, their glowing red eyes intensifying as the girl keeps her hand outstretched.

“What the hell?” I try to get a closer look, then gasp when I realize the girl's eyes are glowing red.

“Go,” she rasps, the command barely a whisper, yet the Beastia turn and sprint from the house without a second glance.

Holy shit! That girl just controlled them with a single word.

Light flashes again, and I groan as I’m tossed from this dream and into the next. My head is pounding, and I reach up when I feel warm liquid running over my lips. My fingers come away stained bright red with blood, and I swallow hard.

Something is wrong. My already sore body is hurting more and more with each dream shift.

When the world around me stops spinning, I look up and find a beautiful blonde woman dressed in an old sundress, holding a small child in her arms. She appears slightly different from the small girl I had just seen. A smaller nose, and eyes a different shape…. It’s enough to know this is a different girl, yet the similarities are there. Maybe her daughter?

“I’m sorry,” I hear her whisper as she presses a kiss to the toddler’s cheek. A choked sob shakes her shoulders as she slowly places the tiny sleeping child in a basket on what looks like a small town hospital step. A car drives past, and the woman stiffens, looking over her shoulder, fear heavy in her green eyes. I gasp when I see scars streaking across her right cheek, two thick white lines that curve from the bottom of her eye over formerly soft heart-shaped lips that are now pulled down in a permanent frown. They run down the length of her long, slender neck and disappear under the collar of her shirt. I inhale sharply, the ghost of crippling pain echoing in my back. The marks on the beautiful woman are smaller versions of the ones I have, and I know the pain all too well. My eyes bounce between the crying woman to the sleeping child, and I shake my head, wondering how the hell she’s been able to keep the child alive when she so obviously doesn’t have any help if she’s standing here alone in the middle of the night.

“They’re following me, and this is the only way to keep you safe.” She kisses the wispy blonde curls on the toddler’s head, her fingers trailing over the toddler’s tiny nose and lipsas if she’s trying to memorize every detail. After a prolonged moment, the woman stands and backs away, her hands covering her mouth as tears stream over her scarred cheeks, her chest heaving with silent sobs as she keeps her eyes on the toddler. Then she turns and runs, darting across the road and hiding, watching the doors of the small hospital until they open, revealing a nurse who startles back when she sees the sleeping toddler on the step.

“Oh! Good heavens!” The nurse scoops up the small, sleeping child and rushes her into the hospital. I watch as the woman breaks into hysterical sobs as she stumbles back from her hiding place and runs into the dark night.

My cheeks are wet with tears as the dream darkens once more, and this time, I don't fight it. I fall into the darkness and wait for light, but when I open my eyes, I startle back, a sob catching in my throat as I stare at the woman wearing a white vest, arms bound to her chest as she sits in the corner of a dimly lit room.

“Mom?!” I rasp, unable to believe what I’m seeing. She’s sitting on a bed, her back pressed firmly to the corner, and she stares at the door of the room. An odd sort of calm is coming from her I can never remember seeing. There was always panic in my memories of her. She would hold me close and tell me she would keep me safe. I knew she loved me, but she was always scared, always crying and screaming about the monsters hiding in the shadows.

I step forward as something loud explodes just outside the room. I gasp and stumble back, the weird dream rippling, reminding me this isn’t reality. My mom is gone. She died years ago. But seeing her here, with her long blonde hair and bright green eyes that are slightly lighter than my own is a mind fuck. “Mom?” I repeat once more just as the door to her room crashes open, swirling black magic following in its place.

Mom doesn’t scream or cower, only glares at the man who slowly walks into the room. I watch as he ducks through the doorway, a long black cloak covering his shoulders, a hood drawn up over his head, hiding his features.

“It won’t work. Killing me will only keep the magic from you,” Mom whispers, her voice void of emotion as she looks up at the man now towering above her. There is an echo of a Beastia howl that courses down the hall, and I gasp, looking from my mom to the opened door, and then to the man who pulls a monstrously ugly sword from his hip. The silver blade gleams in the small amount of moonlight streaming through the tiny bar-covered window of the room. Realization dawns, and I shake my head, stepping forward, then gasp as pain shoots down my spine, making me cry out as my legs quiver under me.

No! No, Dad said she killed herself… that she lost her mind and ended it.

“I guess we will soon find out,” the deep voice grinds out, hands lighting with magic as the dream shifts.

“No, don’t!” I scream, trying to lunge for the man as he reaches out and grabs hold of my mother by the neck, but then everything darkens, and I’m ripped out of my mother’s room with a force greater than the first few times. My chest burns, fire lighting me up from the inside out, and I scream as I fall into oblivion.

THREE

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