Runaway, Part Two: Human Left Behind

       Her head pounded, her body ached, and the demon’s tail wrapped around her, a constant reminder of who–and what–she was. What had she done to deserve this fate? How could she have possibly become a monster? Nina gripped her arms tightly around herself, curling into her bed–a bed she could never, ever sleep in again. She flinched as the claws broke her skin, leaving narrow scratches behind. Her breath hitched; it felt as if her misgivings and anxieties had exploded outward, manifesting in this curse.

       All she knew was that she had to get away. Her mind ran through scenarios again and again as she sat, shaking, the world constricting around her. Her father would burst into her room and see a changeling in her place. He would spot her sneaking away, hoping to appeal to her mother. He would confront her in the lawn as she tried to explain herself.

       He would raise his crossbow and shoot. And that would be the end of Nina.

       Above all else, Nina did not want to die. She forced herself to still, laboring through long, tight breaths, until enough of her body’s protests had abated that she could stand. She hobbled across her room, to the hunting pack her father had just helped her prepare. It had been packed to hunt demons, but it would work just as well for living as one. She knew it was still missing provisions–medicine, for one, and food as well–but it would have to do. Her arms stung as she slung it across her back, and Nina paused in the bathroom to quickly wipe away the blood that had accumulated where the claws had struck. She avoided looking in the mirror. She couldn’t bear to.

       Dawn had broken hours ago; the sun sat high in the sky. It was a bad time to run away–a blanket of snow had freshly fallen, perfect for tracking–but Nina knew she was faster than her father. She only wished she knew where he was; he had left the house at dawn, and if he was still in the woods behind their house… well, she wouldn’t make it very far. Nina hurried through their home and crept to the shed behind it. There, she grabbed her bow, careful not to break the string or scratch the wood with the claws, and a quiver of arrows. As she exited the shed, Nina saw that the tail had left a trail as it dragged along the ground, cutting through her footprints here and there. She growled in distaste, grabbing the ugly thing but hissing as a sharp burst of pain lanced up her spine. 

       Her tail dropped back into the snow. She could feel the cold seeping through it.

       Her throat constricted and she quickly turned away, staring at the sharp, bare branches of the trees that circled her house. She calculated the path she would take into their depths, but she remained rooted in place, unable to muster the courage to move. Once she left, Nina knew she would never be back again. And standing there in the cold felt preferable to forging an uncertain future.

       Nina’s ears twitched as she heard the front door open. The noise–startlingly loud with her enhanced hearing–finally stirred her into action, and she took a step towards the woods that would be her home.

       And another.

       She heard her father’s voice, faintly, calling for her in the house.

       And another.

       Her bedroom door opened, then slammed shut.

       Nina took another step, faster now, sure that it was only a matter of time before–

       “Nina.”

       The voice was firm and accusatory. Nina froze, feet away from the first of the trees, and turned. There her father stood, halfway in the house, the back door rocking back and forth lazily on its hinges. A fire burned in his eyes, which bore into Nina.

       She couldn’t speak. No words came out as she tried to squeak past the lump in her throat. The snow crunched under her feet as she inched backward. He was staring at her tail. Her ears. Her claws. Everything that was not part of the daughter he raised.

       Without another word, her father aimed his crossbow, the loaded bolt gleaming white against the midmorning sun.

       Everything got fuzzy after that. Acting of its own accord, Nina’s body whipped around and sprinted through the woods, planned route be damned. She heard a solid thunk as the bolt buried itself in a tree, inches away from where she had been… and then nothing, not until the sun colored the sky a ruddy orange and Nina sat quaking in a tree, ten feet up, miles away from what used to be home.

       As she returned to her senses, she gave a shaky breath. So. She had escaped.

       Now what?