The Gift

Chapter 62

Wisty

A FLICKERING COLD BLUISH LIGHT from I don't know where suddenly illuminates the end of the hallway. It's like a scene in a horror movie shot in monochrome.

My parents-gaunt, sunken-cheeked, listless-appear to be shackled to a far wall. My mother's formerly thick and curly hair looks flat and matted with sweat. Her eyes are bulging as she stares, alarmed, into the darkness. She's not seeing us, is she? I don't think so.

And my father's eyes are… closed. His body is so thin, and he's limp. Is he -?

I can't even begin to imagine this. It's so wrong and impossible to comprehend.

"Dad!" I scream again. And that's when I see a hulking animal emerge from the darkness. My mother yells out a second time, "Go back! I beg of you! Get away from us!"

The creature starts pacing in front of our mother and father. Whit's grip on me tightens. The creature's flesh is falling off, its mouth drips blood, patches of its skull bone are sticking out all over the place through patchy, mangy fur.

Whose blood is that on its muzzle? Don't let it be my mother's and father's -

Suddenly the light in the shapeless space is brighter. I see that the wires hooked to my parents are glowing blue, eerily like the ones in the Reward Center where they sucked me dry.

"We have to take out that thing, Whit! Now! I'll do it if you won't."

Byron's voice urgently whispers from behind, "No, Wisty! It's a spirit-sucker-a Lost One. If it gets you, you're done! Even you can't defeat it."

"I don't care!" I scream, struggling harder against Whit's grip. "I'll burn you, Whit. I swear I will."

"Wisty, just wait a sec." Whit's eyes have been locked on the scene in shock, but now he lets me go. "Ow!" he yells. "You did it!"

I'm glowing. I'm getting hotter and hotter. I'm a firebrand. Maybe, just maybe, my M is rising? "I can do this. Mom and Dad, I'm coming to get you… don't worry!"

"No! Turn back!" Mom moans. "Get away! I'm warning you, Wisty! You, too, Whit!"

I start tearing down the corridor, and Whit is just a half step behind me. I knew he'd fight! The creature turns to face us and starts bounding toward me. I see bloody, clumped, rotting fur swinging under its jawbone. Then I blast through a virtual wall of its foul, stinking breath.

As I take a flying leap toward the creature, all I'm thinking of is a tigress tackling a rabid jackal in the wilderness, concentrating on the sensation of claws pushing through my fingers, sharp enough to rip this horrid beast apart.

Please, please, let my magic work -

And then I'm engulfed in fur, bone, and teeth.