She never belonged

Mama was the night

Daddy was the day

And her......

She was neither

Chapter 1: Home

The town of Bluebonnet Hills, Texas.

6:00 PM at Sunny Day, corner store

She walked to the mom-and-pop store. All she needed were flour and eggs today. Daddy had just come back with the cattle this morning. He seemed tired, paler, almost. Which was unusual because Daddy would always tan when out. Then again, being out, especially at night, was always dangerous. There was always a chance of running into one of them. Ticks, that’s what we call them though.

Ticks were horrible, looked like anything, and ugly as sin. Most of the time, they were at least. Not all of them were nasty; some looked beautiful. But she had yet to see a beautiful one. Most of the ones out were icky. Scary most of the time. And no one ever really escaped them. They especially liked people like Daddy. He was always too pretty. At least the Tías would say that. Those old ladies gossiping even said that they would snatch him right up if he didn’t stop herding one day. Daddy always paid them no mind.

“Marigold,” the cashier smiled at me. “Is this all you getting, baby?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiled at Mrs. James. “Daddy just got home; thought I’d make him his favorite cookies.”

“Well, ain't you just the sweetest.” she smiled.

She chuckled, paid for her things, and left. The walk to her home wasn’t long. Just following the dirt road to the small farmhouse up the hill. The barn door closed as the sun set. She walked into the house, went to the kitchen, as she heard the soft snores of her daddy. She starts dinner, humming as she moves around the kitchen. After all, she refused to eat the atrocious diet her daddy had to go on when he walked the cattle. If she doesn’t see another can of beans again, it’d be too soon. She cooked potato soup and dandelion salad. Smiling as she worked around her kitchen. Her apron being used to wipe her hands as she turned on the radio and waited for the food to cook. She listens and hums along with the singers, her foot tapping to the rhythm. That’s when she hears it.

Tap……..

Tap…….

Tap….

Then silence.

She looked at the clock subtly, avoiding the windows as the silence swallowed her ears. She knew better than to look at them. To pay attention to the window. She felt their eyes touch her. The stare of a mosquito. Its eyes watching her like it had walked the desert for days. The irritating buzz it makes as it watches her cooking, humming, bouncing in time with the music.

And she has to focus on that. On normalcy, because if it knows she noticed it, it will never go away. Then there goes the farm, their cattle, their chickens, their sheep, and their pigs. Most importantly, it will cost her her daddy. And he was all she had. He was the only thing she had. She’s not a warrior or specialized in killing them. The sheriff can’t even fight these monsters. So she had to keep cooking.

Tap……

tap... tap….

Tap……. screeeck

She winced, shock filling her as her body moved on its own, claws on the windowpane. Glass scratched deeply as blood smeared against it. Her shoulders tensed as she heard bones crunching, flesh tearing, and buzzing slowly stopping. Fear filled her, rooting her in place as she watched the window; nothing there but a hint of what used to be. She knew better. God, did she know better.

But she had to see, to know. So she opened the back door and pushed so slowly and quietly. Even with her cautious movements, the door creaked. She flinched as she looked through the small crack she had made. Seeing another body over the mosquito. Blood pooled around it. Then the other body turned around, a hooded figure, pale, almost white skin from chin to neck, with deep red eyes. She yelped and slammed the door closed, locking it tight. Stepping away from the door in tears as the door thuds from someone’s weight against it.

“Come out, come out,” his voice deep, almost gravely. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

A whimper escapes her mouth as the thud becomes louder and the door creaks and cracks. She steps back, nearly stumbling over the footstool in the living room. Her daddy was safe upstairs at least; that was her only thought when the door finally splintered and gave way.

She screamed, and the man slowly entered the house. His long, white hair shadowed his face. The only thing she saw was his red eyes. Teeth glinting and bared. He prowled towards her, every bit of him screamed predator. Then he lunges.