Chapter 4

Clarissa

Clarissa’s mother normally kept their home spotless and excellently cared for. But it wasn’t right now. Smashed furniture, broken wood, and trash blocked the front door.

A couple of flickering candles lit the main stairway. But the house was bizarrely dark. Most of the usually lit candles were knocked over.

Clarissa carefully stepped over the debris as she entered the house behind Stefan. She gasped as her heart sped up in her chest. Her wide eyes took in the wanton destruction.

Stefan was stealthily headed up the stairs. She followed him tentatively, unsure if she wanted to see what was there. What had happened here?

Mom and Dad had been here during this? A sinking feeling pressed its way into her gut. Were her parents alright?

She darted past Stefan as he slinked up the stairs. She barely felt the pain in her ankle. It was not important. 

The second floor was just as torn apart. There was a splash of something dark and wet on the wall next to her room. Is that blood?

She rushed towards her room without thought, following a trail of the dark wetness. As she reached for the menacing door handle, her heart was pounding deafeningly in her chest.

Stefan grabbed her arm again. She almost screamed in surprise. How had she forgotten that he was with her? 

He gave her an endearing look of concern and whispered, “let me go first.”

Her brain took a moment to process the request. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “We do not have time for this! My parents!”

He pushed past her before she had a chance to forge ahead, stepping lithely into the room. He was ready to crush any threat. With a jagged mithril dagger in each hand, he swept through the room crouched.

With unsteady legs, Clarissa rushed in behind him. When she saw the room, she collapsed to her knees. Runes written in blood covered the walls. The world spun around her.

Reaching out with a sob, Clarissa grabbed her father’s lifeless body. His clothes were torn. Her father’s eyes were open and unmoving, while his body lay motionless in front of her. 

He didn’t respond, even when she cried out to him, “Papa!” She lifted his head to her lap as she kneeled in front of his body. “Please, papa, wake up.” Her body shook with her sobs.

Stefan’s POV

He saw Clarissa run to her father and wished she did not have to go through this. She would forever be haunted by the sight of her beloved father’s corpse. But Stefan would not deny her the right to be there. 

He stepped up behind her and quietly checked for a pulse. The absence of one confirmed what he already knew. There was no life force left within the man.

Stefan’s words were soft as he told her, “I will check the rest of your house.”

She did not acknowledge him. It was as if she hadn’t seen him take the pulse, either. Her awareness was centered directly on her father’s fallen body. She rocked with his head in her lap, crying. Blood covered her hands and tainted her face.

He checked the upstairs rooms first. Busted windows left glass haphazardly everywhere. His boots crunched unforgivingly under his feet. 

Stefan slinked from room to room. He could see the signs of the struggle—the amount and thoroughness of destruction. Only certain groups of people would be this extensive.

Every room was torn apart. It meant they were looking. What were they looking for? Clarissa would shed light on the mystery when he got back to her. 

In the kitchen downstairs, there were several place settings around the table. It looked as if they had guests. Somehow during dinner’s discussion, it had turned violent. He picked up what he deduced was a guest's cup and sniffed it.

The smell immediately brought images of forests and caves. Battles with mystical creatures flickered through his mind. Now, he knew what it was that he smelled outside. The extreme mess throughout the house made sense suddenly.

A floorboard upstairs creaked. He jumped around and ran up the stairs. No, this creature would not take his betrothed.

Clarissa’s POV

Clarissa slumped next to her father’s cold body, crying and rocking slowly. Her thoughts sped away from her. She was churning and brewing like a storm.

Alone and lost, she remembered her father’s kindness. He was a sweet old man who never hurt anyone. So, who would hurt him?

Whoever it was must pay! She growled angrily. A tingle traveled up her spine, and she shuddered. There was a low crunch behind her. 

She whirled around. Loss and contempt filled her soul. She was completely raw, exposed, depressed... but oh so angry!

 As she turned, she pulled all her emotions to the center of her chest. It was going to die! She didn’t need to think to know that whatever made that sound was responsible. She would make them feel what her father felt, as they laid him down for an eternal rest.

As she looked upon the encroaching shadow, she pushed her emotions out towards the monster that killed her father. The beam emitted from her emotions lit up the creature with terrifying definition. 

It was a giant jaguar with scars across his face, easily twice her size and adorned with black matted fur. An angry snarl accentuated those razor sharp teeth. 

It lept forward with terrible speed as a beam erupted from her. It began to eat through his fur, his skin. He yowled in pain for only a second before he disintegrated.  A second creature bit deeply into her shoulder with very sharp teeth. 

She didn’t have time to think, as she put her hand on the creature’s forehead and pushed all the remaining emotions through her hand and into it. Instead of being pushed away, the giant leopard grew still then started convulsing. Steam came out his ears. When she lifted her hand, it was to reveal black caverns where it’s eyes used to be.

She stumbled to her knees. There was a creak in the floorboards behind her. Her strength was fading but she would not fall to these murderers. But as she turned, she saw Stefan handling the old lion that had come up behind her.

As her body landed on the ground, it knocked the breath out of her. She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Blackness consumed her awareness.