95 : Family's Support

VERENA

Another guttural, inhuman laugh rips from Ezra’s throat. “You can’t do anything,” the voice echoes, cold and distorted. Then, as quickly as it appears, the silver light in his eyes fades. His body crumples, eyes rolling back, and he collapses unconscious onto the bed.

My vision blurs as I look at him and then my arm. His bite marks my skin. But the pain isn’t more than seeing my child suffer.

I don’t care if he kills me. I just want him to be saved.

The clock ticks, each tick a blow against the tense silence gripping the lounge we sit in. Half an hour has crawled by since Ezra…he got possessed. Celine is in Ezra’s room, checking his vitals.

The rest of us sit scattered around the lounge, worry etched on our faces. Dad stares blankly at the wall, his jaw clenching. Elijah seems to be focusing on a point on the floor, his brows furrowing. The twins stare out the window. None of us dare to speak, the weight of the recent incident hanging heavy in the air.

Curses bring bad luck and