When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (mobi reader android TXT) 📗

pulled herself from the tree. “I don’t know. I’ve been a ghoul for like a year now. Maybe my hunger grows with me, and I just need more?”

Laughing, Ligel shook his head and climbed back into the tree behind her. “Race you back home!”

They returned to the cabin at nightfall. The sun had abandoned them, and the moon couldn’t be inclined to replace day’s light with her own. Not a bad time to be a ghoul, where the eye cuts through even the darkest of shadows.

Ligel victoriously flung the door open as he entered the house. An invisible crowd cheered from his lips as the door unceremoniously slammed back in Val’s face.

“And the mighty Ligel wins the race by a landslide, his opponent standing no chance to his speed and fury.”

Val rolled her eyes, too exhausted to argue. She was tired, she was sore, and she was starving: three things she hadn’t felt this badly in months.

“Hey, where have you two been?”

The pair stepped into the kitchen to see Crystal had already set the table. A steaming plate was present at each spot beside a domineering glass of apple cider. “I thought you guys would be back thirty minutes ago.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Ligel answered, “we went farther than planned, so it took us a while to get back.”

Crystal playfully slapped him on the back of the head and sent him to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Looking up, she saw Val’s thin frame still standing in the doorway, hungrily eyeing the food.

“What’s with you, girlie? You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just been needing more to fill me up, I guess. I’m sorry, I know you just took on an extra shift. I swear, as soon as you think I’m ready, I’ll get a job and start—”

“Shut your mouth. The day we found you, you became family. Don’t you ever think you’re intruding or being a burden. So what if I have to take an extra shift? You're family. And not just because of these.” She paused, pulling Val’s arm up to eye level and squeezing into the veins until claws protruded. “But because I love you. Now, go change out of that dirty crap and sit down and eat.”

After they had eaten, everyone went their separate ways. All through the night, Val tossed and turned. She tried to keep her focus on sleep; she tried to ignore that, after three full plates at dinner, she was still just as hungry. As she stared at the ceiling, counting the lines that sprawled through the wood, she prayed sleep would take her. The "to whom" or "to what" she prayed to wasn’t important. The mouthed supplications just helped to keep her sane. It was the only thing that numbed her against the beast gnawing its way from the inside out.

Chapter 6

Val awoke the next morning screaming in agony. Something was drilling a hole through her stomach. She was picturing quarts of blood staining earth. Entrails coiled around her fingers, and she was widening the deer’s already split chest cavity. Lifeless eyes. A stilled heart.

Someone banged on the door.

“Val!”

It was Ligel.

“I’m fine,” she growled through clenched teeth. She shut her eyes and tried to count down from one hundred.

“Are you okay? I’m coming in—”

“I’m on my period, okay? Fuck off!”

Silence lingered in the air, then footsteps quickly retreated down the hall. Val started to regret the outburst, but another shot of pain blurred out the world. She took a deep breath and resumed her counting. By the time she reached the thirties, the hunger had dulled, and her breathing was steady. Without falling to the floor, she leaned over the side of the bed to examine the small bookshelf. Reading had become an invaluable distraction, at first from homesickness, and now from hunger.

After briefly scanning Crystal’s collection, Val settled on an old favorite—a book of fairy tales. As her fingers grazed the frail cover, a chill went down her spine. A sickly aura radiated from the volume and it slipped from her hand. The coppery smell of blood and the thickness of death rushed through the room as it hit the floor.

The onset of sickness was acute. The febrile headache passed over and Val was able to peer over the edge of the bed.

The book looked normal enough; a fairy and a small child spoke in a wooded clearing, a unicorn standing majestically in the background. But as she reached down for the book again, that same coldness licked at her skin. Val had every urge to throw the book through the open window, needed to free herself from its grip. Instead, she gritted her teeth and pried the cover open.

There was no copyright, table of contents, or any of the familiar text that one should find within the first pages. Instead, there were three sentences penned in ink:

The Angels lie, and you are their fifth transgression.

They are coming, but we will save you from the saviors.

Close your mind and open your soul.

 

She stared at the words for what seemed like forever, then quickly turned the page.

The Angels lie, and you are their fifth transgression…

 

Val frantically flipped through page after page, the same ominous message meeting her in its chillingly beautiful script. She started to shake as the room grew colder. She coughed out a sound for help, but the words lay choked in her throat. A dark object appeared in the corner of her eye, and she shot around to see a black feather slowly drift onto her bed. Another, out of no traceable origin, appeared—followed by dark shadows creeping from the open book. She slammed it shut and threw it across the room, but darkness continued to seep from bindings. In a