Page 3 of Kiss of Fire

“But itwasn’tNurse Philips.” Raya looked desperately at Mary, willing at least one person to believe her. “Something else was controlling her. I swear to you, her eyes weren’t hers. They were so cold, so… so inhuman.”

Mary sighed.

“Come on now love, let's get you into that shower. Nice hot water will do you good. And afterwards you can watch some telly with the others.”

Raya pushed through the door into the shower block and stripped off her regulation scrubs. She knew Mary would be watching her because of her recent escape attempt, but she was long past any embarrassment. There was no privacy in a secure unit.

Raya stepped under the showerhead and turned it on. The first flow of water was shockingly cold. She let it play over her face, feeling the icy needles wash her clean. Then the water slowly turned hot, so hot it made her skin turn red.

“Don’t forget to shampoo,” called out Mary.

Raya grabbed the plain bottle off the ledge. She didn't know what brand it was, just some generic stuff with a vaguely antiseptic smell.

When she was younger, her adopted mother had used one that smelled of apples. For a moment she remembered Caroline’s smile. She pushed the thought out of her head. Her adopted mother was dead. No use thinking about her.

She rinsed the suds out of her hair, feeling the long weight of it hanging down her back. It would become wavy when it dried. Wavy and jet black. Except for the single strand of copper that grew in a streak on one side. Everyone thought she dyed it that way, but she didn’t.

It was like the rest of her. An anomaly.

She scrubbed the soap over her arms and legs. The olive tint to her skin suggested something exotic in her background. That, and her dark eyes. Maybe Asian or Mediterranean. But who knew? She had no memory of her real parents.

The only thing she knew for sure was that they hadn’t wanted her. They’d given her away as a baby. She didn’t even know if they were still alive.

She preferred to believe they weren’t. Because otherwise, how could they just leave her here? All alone?

She stood motionless, allowing the stream of hot water to calm her. She pretended she was normal. Just an ordinary young woman preparing for the day.

“All right now, sweetheart, let's get you dried and dressed now.”

Raya reluctantly reached out and shut off the shower. She squeezed her hair, feeling the excess water splashing around her feet. She turned to ask Mary to pass her a towel and stopped dead.

Mary was still smiling at her but it wasn't her normal open smile. It was a leer, the corners of her lips pulled back grotesquely, further than was humanly possible. Her eyes were cold and unblinking, her features sly.

Raya felt the breath catch in her throat. Not Mary. Please, not Mary. She gave herself a shake, hoping it was a hallucination, some side effect of her meds. But the vision didn't change.

“Who... who are you?” she stammered, trying to cover her nakedness ineffectually with her hands. The Mary-creature gave a giggle.

“Why, you’ll know soon enough, so you will,” it simpered, mimicking Mary's Irish accent mockingly. Its grin widened. Little cracks appeared at the corners of its lips. Its voice dropped to a low guttural growl, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Stay away!” Raya pressed herself back against the shower wall, the tiles cold beneath her skin.

The Mary-figure took a lurching step forward, as if the thing inside was controlling her legs.

“You can’t escape. Not now we know where you are. We’re coming.”

Raya stumbled, her feet slipping in the wet shower, her hair hanging over her face.

“Get away from me,” she screamed.

She tried to stay upright, her hands scrabbling for a weapon, something to throw, anything.

But her legs slid out from under her and she fell backwards, her screams suddenly cut off as she smashed her head against the shower wall.

Three

She woke up in the infirmary, groaning as consciousness came back with a vengeance. Her head was thudding horribly and when she reached back gingerly, she felt a lump the size of a golf ball beneath her hair.

Her other arm wouldn't move. She saw it was secured to the bed with a leather strap, a drip attached at the elbow. Her legs were also fastened. At least she was dressed again. Silver lining, and all that.

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