Page 33 of Welcome Home
Cora tending the garden, checking the mail, me waiting just at her side. She even noted it, subject seems to have had a personality shift, now attentive, obsessively following her. Underlined on the backIS SHE IN DANGER?Alarm courses through me at the next series of pictures, me. The week before I came back to her, standing outside the house watching my sweet Cora from the yard. A dark hazy one from the alley, my true eyes milky white, my face seamed and a terrified Rachel in my grasp.
She was wearing a camera…?
My heart thuds in my chest, the more I look the worse it gets. When I reach the forensic report on the knife, wallet and phone, I can’t stop the rumbling growl that forces its way up from my chest. All positive for blood, his blood. She knows. Worse still, she has evidence, almost enough to provesomething. I force my grip on her metal desk to ease. The threat to Cora making my anger border on annihilation. I could… an unhinged detective slaughtered her prescient, cracked under the pressure. I’ve been too focused on my little love, winning her affection. I let it distract me from everything else. The real goal, keeping her safe. I don’t bother hiding my tracks as I stand leaving the office, all the most incriminating pieces of evidence tucked in the waistband of my pants. Her laptop hard reset.
Every deep breath does little to fight the urge, the primal beating inside me that screams protect her. Kill everything that threatens her. To kill everything in the way, even her if need be. I fight it back. The skin dips for a moment, its hue weaning before I slap it back into place.
Focus.
Breathe.
A spree killing would only open more eyes on us, invite more attention. You’re nearly four hundred years old, Vosz. Three hundred and Ninety-Five years of manipulating humans, you know how this works. Be smart. Get home. Fuck your girl. Hold her. Figure it out. By the time the muggy night air hits me, my mind is clearer, if only slightly. The smell of rain and sea salt on the wind acts as an anchor. One my kind often needs. I was already on the right track; the detective is losing it. She’s out of touch with reality. Obsessed with my wife and I.
Monsters?
There is no such thing.
Cora
I don’t know how long it’s been when a sharp knock at the door makes me flinch, breaking me from my endless staring at the discarded almost wax-like skin on the basement floor. It’s lacking any form of life. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a poorly made Halloween prop. But I do know better. The knock comes again, frantic this time as I ascend the stairs, shutting the door behind me. Whatever gives the skins life, it comes from him.
Magic maybe?
Fuck, I’m past caring what or why. I just wish he was home.
Home…
I almost scoff as I glimpse the security camera coming from the mounted hub in the hall. Rachel looks rough, her blonde hair knotted, her eyes wild. I hate her. My mind feels funny, numb.
I stare at the feed dispassionately as she bangs and begs to be let in. “Cora! Cora, I have to talk to you please before he’s back!”
Why? You never wanted to talk to me before, not unless he was around.
I sigh, my hand pausing again on the doorknob before I reluctantly wrench it open. Rachel's blue eyes are wildly taking in the house, panicked as she rushes inside. The rough wood from the inner trim of the door scratches my palm as she jerks it from me, slamming it shut so quickly the screech he never fixed sounds like a scream. I glare at it, only just now remembering my robe is still hanging open. The fabric tug across my skin when her hands grip me from behind, the smell of body order filling the hall.
“It’s not Oliver Cora, there’s something,” she sobs, “Something inside him. I- I told my husband and he wouldn’t listen. It’s not the pills please, we aren’t safe.”
Wrong, youaren’t safe. I’ve never been safer.
“I haven’t left the yard! I watched all night waiting for him to leave.” Her rancid breath smells of alcohol, her long nails gripping and tugging at my robe incoherently.
“It’s okay Rachel, I know.” My voice is so calm-no strong,I almost don’t recognize it.
“Oh my god, you know! Thank god, we need to leave now we have to call the-“
I force a shudder into my voice, that ringing in my ears returning. “I caught him. He,” I swallow hard, feigning fear. “He’s in the basement.”
I really shouldn’t.
“No- no, I watched that cop lady leave earlier. I think… it’s the skin. I think he’s in-“
“She left to get help, Rachel; please come with me. I need your help until she gets back. I’m so scared.” Tears well in my eyes as her nails scratch my arm through the robe. Holy shit, she’s losing it.
Holy shit, she’s seen too much.
“What did you see when you were with him?” I ask, forgetting to feign upset for a moment. She’s too fucked up to notice.
“His face it peeled back, underneath it was… oh my god.” She squeals, her voice grinding on my eardrums.
