Chapter 3

Zailah

This was the first Halloween where I couldn't be bothered because my heart wasn't in it. All I wanted was a hot chocolate, a good book and my hot water bottle to hand. I had work tomorrow and couldn't enjoy a good drinking session with my besties. I smiled into the mirror. This was the laziest ‘costume’ for Halloween.

I used my black eyeliner to make me look like the Joker. The lines going down my eyes and across my mouth, accompanied by the deep dark red lips, were visually striking, but it would be nothing compared to what my friends would be wearing. I’d lost my sense of fun somewhere along the line. With a heavy sigh, I put my black leather jacket over the matching sleeveless top.

There wasn't much to do in Ketterby. It was a small town, but Halloween was always big here due to the historic witch trials that took place in the 1600s. It always pissed me off at how they targeted women. I wouldn't have survived that period since I was black and a woman.

I groaned when I got another message but smiled when I saw there was a picture attached to it. When I opened it up, I giggled at the extreme costumes. Charlotte was a zombie bride, and Emma had eye makeup similar to mine, except she had painted her face white since she was a clown. The lines running down her eyes were red to match the bright red wig she wore, but it made half of her head look bald. She looked super creepy. I glanced at Charlotte again to see she had some creepy contact lenses, but she had opted for sexy because she wore a white corset.

Emma: Hurry up!

Me: You guys look fantastic. Sorry, I’m about to leave now. X

I mentally prepared for being cussed out when they saw what little effort I’d put into my ‘costume’. Nothing felt the same since my Mum died. It was almost 10 months, but I couldn't shift the constant feeling of sadness within my soul. It was with me from the moment I woke up every single day. They were lucky that I was coming out.

With another heavy sigh, I pulled my boots on. The walk would either clear my head or fuck it up, and considering my current mood, I’d bet on the latter. I shut the door behind me but glanced at the moonlit garden. My Mum had planted all the bushes, flowers and pots. Even in death, my mum looked out for me. I remember sobbing when I found her life policy document.

I made a good living working as a conveyancing solicitor, and I was well versed with paperwork, but I’d struggled to cope with paperwork that was required when someone died. Between planning the funeral, dealing with the unexpected loss and worrying about the house, I’d been in a tailspin.

The only option I’d seen was to apply for a mortgage in my name to keep our home. Ultimately, there was no need because my mother had always planned ahead. After seeing my mum work two jobs for most of her life, I pushed myself as hard as possible in school.

It was a dark and dreary night. I didn't want to go to the pub. Not when I was happy to vegetate at home, but the thought of my friend's bitching made me grimace. Long after the funeral, they had turned on me when I became a sorry mess. I closed the wooden gate until the metal latch clicked and paused to zip my jacket up. The evening air had a chill to it, and I could feel the chill in the air. I stuffed my fingers into my jacket pocket and cursed myself for being too cheap to book a taxi.

I walked faster to warm up and tried to prepare myself for the noisy, crowded pub.

◆◆◆

Halfway to the Crow’s Nest, I came across a group of guys huddled beside the nature reserve entrance. It wasn't uncommon for youngsters to hang out there. They made me feel old at 29.

“Hey, look, it’s a black Joker, or is it…what’s the chick’s name?”

“Ahh, the sexy, crazy chick was Harley Quinn.”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

My lips tightened, and I began to walk faster. I was almost at the posh housing estate. I should have got an Uber.

Two guys stood in my way, and I realised they weren't teenagers. They were in their early twenties. This was worse because they were adults hanging outside to drink.

“What’s your rush? Have a drink with us,”

the taller one said.

“No, thanks. I’m meeting some friends,”

I said as I tried to sidestep past him.

“You meeting your boyfriend?”

the other one asked as I noticed the other guys moving closer.

I was getting cornered, so I ducked between them and ran for it.

“Grab her. I’m not done with her,”

the tall one shouted.

In that instant, real fear kicked in as I heard scuffling behind me before the sounds of their feet hitting the pavement to give chase to me filtered through to my brain. It made me speed up as the urgency to get to safety became imperative. I cried out as I pushed myself to run as fast as possible.

I felt someone grab my hair, and my head was yanked back. The pain in my scalp forced me to stop and try to fight the man. He had a hoody up, and all I saw was a flash of his eyes before I clawed at them. He screamed and released my hair to grab his face, giving me the opportunity to escape.

“Fucking get the bitch,” he raged.

Someone lunged on my back and took me down. My palms scraped along the stony path. It was partially on the grass. I looked up and saw the estate was closer, but before I could try and get up again, the man behind me threw his body weight on top of me.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson, you cunt,”

he said before he punched the side of my head.

The pain in my ear and head exploded, causing me to feel sick and dizzy.

“Grab her and take her back to the park,”

someone said. “And don't let her get away.”

They grabbed my arms to drag me back towards the nature reserve. My brain was trying to catch up after the blow, but I knew I was dead if I didn't do anything. I kept my body slumped as they excitedly talked amongst one another. The front of my boots trailed along the floor as I counted them. There were four of them, but I had to try. I took a few long, deep breaths of air before I yanked my arms away from them and tried to run again.

This time, they caught me faster, and the tallest one kicked me in the ribs several times until I was rocking on the ground in pain. Someone sat on top of me.

“Get her jeans off,”

he said as he pulled on the zip for my jacket.

I lifted my hands until I saw the flash of a blade. Horrified, my eyes followed the knife. The handle had an intricate silver design, which made it look like an antique, but the length of the sharp blade was what my worry was. I could barely breathe.

“I want to cut her face to make her look like a real joker,”

the blade guy said.

I didn't need to see his expression to know he meant it

“Wait until I’m done with her,”

another one said.

The blade tip touched the corner of my lips, and he ran it along the lines where I put my make-up. My panic increased when I felt hands on the waistband of my jeans. A whimper escaped my lips, and the knifeman snickered.

“I hope she doesn't piss herself,”

he said, causing a few others to laugh.

Tears of fear and anger built up inside me, but I refused to beg. They were not the merciful type. If I were going out like this, I would do whatever I could to hurt them. I began kicking at the man pulling my jeans while I punched at the crotch that sat on me. He grabbed his dick and tilted to the side while groaning in pain.

Knifeman punched me in the face, and I felt hot blood run out of my nose and onto my mouth. He stabbed the knife into my shoulder, and I screamed as I felt the blade pierce my skin. There was a blur of movement, and the knifeman was—gone. I held my shoulder and sat up.

I saw something as large as a bear in the dim light, but it was on its hind legs. Then I saw the long tail. The animal held the knifeman upside down, using his teeth and claws until he tore his entire leg off at the joint. It was like a scene from a movie. the blood, the screaming, and the beast.

Knifeman’s body fell on the ground, and that's when I realised how tall the beast was. He turned to face us, and I saw the yellow glow of his eyes, the blood-stained teeth, the fur and the ears. It looked like a werewolf.

He leapt towards me, and I covered my body with my arms in an automatic instinct, but I didn't feel anything. I opened my eyes and turned towards the snarling and chomping noises behind me. The tall one was on the ground with his lifeless eyes wide open, and his cheek and neck were sliced open with distinct claw marks on his cheek. I slowly began to edge away and saw the knife beside me.

I picked it up and got to my feet. The wolf beast had the fourth man beneath his foot. His claws held him in place because I could see the blood stains spreading across the light-coloured sweatshirt. I began to take a step backwards. The pain in my body became secondary as my survival instinct pushed past my shock.

The sheer horror of the scene was one that I couldn’t take my eyes off as I tried to process the chaos. I winced as he dropped the guy’s body, but the arm was still in its mouth. None of this was normal. It had incredible strength to grip and yank off limbs as if plucking feathers.

He dropped the arm, and my eyes widened as he bent down and began to tear open the gut of the man below him. My stomach lurched, and I was finally able to move. I took off running back towards my house. Praying that I’d fallen asleep and this was only a vivid fucked up nightmare.

When the eery howl echoed behind me, it took my soul along with it. I glanced back and saw the panting beast give chase to me. I couldn't outrun the men, and there was no way I could outrun this beast. I stopped and held the knife up, but my hand shook sporadically as my muscles tensed, but the fear vibrated through me. I placed both hands on the knife to try and steady my nerves.

“Please, don't hurt m-me,”

I whispered.

The fur on its face and mouth was coated in blood. The eyes were like two glowing amber stones. There was only death in those eyes.

My death.

It began a low rumbling growl before its jaw began to open.

The last thing I saw was its long, sharp teeth, but I gripped the knife as I tried to plunge it into its back when it landed on me. I felt it rip the flesh away from my neck, and a tear ran from my eye. The icy cold wind made me aware of the tear, but the stupefaction of dying from my neck wound just hit me as everything turned black.