Chapter Two

Blood had begun to pool onto the floor by the sofa, it could be seen gushing from my mother's... no. That was no longer who was laying on the sofa, that wasn't my mother, it couldn't be.

I couldn't tear my eyes from her throat, watching the blood flow from her, rush from her as this image burned itself into my memory.

The fear that was now pushing it's cruel way through my heart, my mind kicked in again.

It's not over, what are you doing. Move!

Like a spark of fire, with an agonising ache, my body pushed itself, my eyes torn away from the image as I look up at, no, what was going on?

Seeing my father standing there, his words barely sinking in as he took a step closer, the sound of his voice was foreign, frightening but I knew, I knew somehow, this wasn't my father.

My sight remained on him, our eyes lock and his own looked wrong, a crimson swirl of what looked like smoke lingered, diminishing the usually bright blue orbs.

The room was beyond warm, heat seemed to be radiating from him, it made no sense for there to be condensation escaping his lips with every breath, it too, was a dark red.

"What... What did you do?" I asked, my voice breaking as my heart churns. I knew what he had done, saw it even, I knew he killed my mother but why? What reason could he ever have for such a thing.

"What are you thinking?"

Run. Run Nyx! RUN!

"What am I thinking?" He repeats, I can see the tension in his fist as he clenches both hands angrily. The intensity of his veins as his arms begin to bulge, he was filled with rage, an emotion I had never seen in my father and it scared me. "You dare question your father, Nicky?"

There it was again, that name. A dead name to me and he knew this, it hurt to have him say this name but the pain was numbed, the ache of a past life was nothing compared to the sheer shock and fear that was tormenting my every thought right now.

"No, no. You're not my dad." The words stutter from me as I take a step back, "You're not him. You can't be" I argue, the hot, heavy beads of anguish now running down my cheeks, my hand searching for something, anything beside me before I feel the cold metal of the door handle.

His head cocks to one side as he sees my hand. The large figure that was my dad suddenly bounds forwards, a roar of pure fury rings out through the room as I slam the door shut in fear. A scream urging itself through my throat, suppressed only by the tight grit of my teeth as my jaw clamps down, I put every ounce of strength I can muster up into holding the door shut but it wasn't enough!

my body is almost pulled forwards as it plunges out of my grip, my fingers sting from the force as the wooden barrier is now wrenched open and there, in front of me is the man I once sought for protection.

"NO!" My words fill the void of the house, battling against his continued uproar of what feels like pure hatred. "STAY AWAY!" I demand, pushing back as his hands reach out for me, I can't move quick enough, can't escape the hold he has on me as I feel his grip tighten around my arms, locking them in place before feeling the crushing blow of his large head against my face.

A deafening crunch fill my ears, my eyes close in agony as hot white pain erupts from my now broken nose, I can taste the blood as it fills my mouth. "No" I urge, a gurgle of protest as the blood rushing from my nose continues down into my mouth, his hands hold tighter, I can feel the inhuman strength lift me from the ground and throw me backwards.

The impact of the wall against my spine sends a shock down my body, my head whips back before making contact, sending even more pain down in waves before I fall, slumping onto crumpled legs. "please. No, please" I plead now, for my life? For my father? For this nightmare to stop and to wake up in my bed once again? I don't know what for but I plead as my eyes try to focus, I look up at him with fear, tears begin to mix with blood as I splutter and spit out what has already coated my tongue and throat, it burns, the strong taste I wished to remove was far from gone as he steps closer again.

"Dad... It's, it's me" I try, my heart pushing up into my throat as I speak to the stranger overshadowing me.

"It's time to go back to sleep Nicky"

Sleep. I want to sleep so much

My stomach begins to twist, the want to retch, to empty my stomach building as I push myself back against the wall, his voice was harsh and filled with darkness, He wasn't my dad and she... She wasn't my mother.

I look past him, seeing her feet still on the sofa, she was just out of sight and yet, the image could never leave my memory. All I wanted was to feel her embrace once more before looking back up to my dad's disgusting face.

Even as I struggle to focus on his features, I know it's him, as the room spins around my now broken, weak body, it was my dad. He wasn't himself, but I could feel him still there, inside, somewhere.

"Please don't do this"

"You'll be with your mother soon."

Mum? Please, I want my mum. I want my dad. Please, let me see them again.

With those last words of his lingering in my thoughts, he lowered himself down over me, his hands pushed mine aside as I pathetically attempt to fight him off, the strength I could build up was barely enough to lift myself from the floor, how could I ever fight off this hulking giant?

Why is this happening? Why aren't you fighting harder Nyx?

"no.. no" I sob, feeling the warmth of his fingers as they slide around my throat, my hands reach up, trying to pull his off of me but he was too strong, too determined.

I could feel them tightening, my throat closing off from the oxygen I so desperately needed as my lungs battled for the sweet taste of air, met with the bitterness of nothing.

My fingers reached up, found his face as I tried to push him off, my nails trailing the cuts that had formed onto his cheeks and I knew then, this was the last attempt my mum had made too.

The tension behind my eyes grew, pushing outwards as though they were ready to pop from their sockets.

I thought, in a moment like this, my life would flash before my eyes but instead, all I could think about was a silly stress ball I once owned that when squeezed, a gooey substance would try to break from it's rubbery shell.

A foolish last thought, it was nothing like the books I had read or the films I'd watch with my, my real dad.

I'd always expected to see my childhood, the friends I cherished and the memories I always loved, not this. Not the aggressive twitch of my father's anger as his teeth grind and his lips snarl in my face, watching how his spit and saliva had begun to froth at the corners of his mouth, the darkness of his now crimson orbs.

My sight was beginning to fade and my hands found their way onto his wrist, weakly holding the warmth of his body against my palms, I knew my fate was decided in this moment and yet my feet, they continued to kick out desperately, slowing in their struggle.

As my eyes close, consciousness leaves me with the teasing sound of a thunderous crash close by. Whatever it was, I couldn't see but I knew it made no difference, everything was growing numb, I just felt so tired, so lost.

Well, you could have tried harder.

Everything turns to black as all I know is swallowed by nothingness.