Storykiller (2 page)

“I’m Micah Chen.”

Tessa smiled at Micah as the girl blew at her black bangs, lifting them briefly away from her eyes. “Tessa Battle.” Tessa repeated.

Micah smiled back, shy, and thumbed over at the boy, who was examining Tessa as if she was a bug under a magnifying glass, “This is Brandon Ellis.”

Tessa nodded at Brandon.

“Uh-huh, but people call me Brand,” he said, barely acknowledging the conversation, his eyes narrowed and his mouth screwed up contemplatively. “Your hair is different.”

Tessa looked up at the unnaturally bright cherry-red strands falling across her eyes. “Yes, Brand, you’re right. I did not have a borderline mohawk when I was in the fourth grade.” Tessa and Micah shared another smile.

“No, no. Not that,” he said, ignoring them. “The color. That’s not your natural color.”

Micah elbowed him. “Brand. That’s not anyone’s
natural
color.”

Tessa stifled a laugh. “Correct. It belongs only to Manic Panic. Technically I’m a blonde. I think. I can’t really remember. It’s been a long time since I saw my real hair.”

Micah chuckled and Brand nodded knowingly, “I thought so. I think we were in Miss Castle’s fourth grade class together.”

Tessa reached back into the vault of her memory, most of which she’d tried to block out since it reminded her of her mother. It all felt so long ago. She
had
been in Miss Castle’s class. Did she remember a tiny version of this kid running around in superhero t-shirts? She didn’t.

“Yeah, maybe, you do seem kind of familiar,” Tessa said. Brand beamed and Micah cast a knowing look at Tessa, as if acknowledging that Tessa had done Brand a kindness and appreciated it.

“I knew it!” Brand said. Tessa turned and began walking again. It was actually impressive that he recognized her. Tessa hadn’t thought anyone would or would bother trying. Brand and Micah fell into step behind her and Tessa wondered if their houses were even in this direction. There weren’t many houses this way.

“Brand is great with faces,” Micah said. “In fact, he’s got a great memory in general, especially for people, names, history, stories—less so for math.” Brand elbowed her.

“Hey, I do just fine in math.”

“Is a C fine?” Micah asked.

“A C is totally average. That’s like the
definition
of a C,”

“So fine means average?”

“I don’t know but you’re, like, embarrassing me here, Mike,” Brand complained under his breath.

“Okay, okay,” Micah said, giving up.

“Hey, it’s October, why haven’t we seen you before today?” Brand asked.

“I just got back to the States yesterday,” Tessa said.

Micah hissed at Brand. “Stop being so nosy!”

Tessa chuckled as they jostled about, arguing behind her. They seemed so genuinely nice. That was rare in Tessa’s experience and it intrigued her. Just as she was softening up and going to ask a question of her own, she caught a glimpse of the silver convertible in her peripheral vision and stopped suddenly. Micah and Brand both crashed headlong into her back and fell down again.

Tessa crouched down to help them up, again, one eye locked on the woman in the convertible. “Sorry, sorry, my fault this time.”

Brand rubbed his head, “Jeez. What are you, like, made of adamantium?”

Micah reached for her glasses, which had gone shooting across the sidewalk. Tessa handed them to her. They all stood up again and Brand adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “Adamantium is what Wolverine—“ Tessa cut him off.

“I know what adamantium is,” she said and then nodded to her house. “This is me.”

Brand and Micah looked up at her, almost like puppies. Adorable, funny puppies.

“Oh. Yeah.” Micah scratched her head and pointed back the way they had come, almost as if confused. “We’re actually that way.”

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Tessa said, trying not to make it sound too abrupt, and keeping one skeptical eye on the woman in the car across the street. Brand and Micah headed back the way they had come and Tessa, from her front lawn, watched to make sure that the albino supermodel didn’t do anything to them. She would hate it if the first nice people she’d met in just about ever got
something’d
by the sharp-looking supermodel. But the woman watched them go and then promptly returned her attention to Tessa, never more than swiveling her head. Tessa sighed and gave up, turning to her front door.

There’s something in the house.

The thought crashed through Tessa’s head so loud as she put her hand on the front doorknob that it almost knocked her over. And as startling a thought as that was, she was more freaked out by why she thought some
THING
instead of some
ONE
.

That was weird, right?

Tessa paused, her hand on the door, fear rippling through her. She felt her fear so solidly that she suspected it of radiating off her, like some kind of stinky cartoon character. She didn’t
have
to go inside. She could just not go in. But where would she go? Her mind raced for a moment, possibilities and options rifling through her head and then she felt a prick of anger.

This was her home, even if she hadn’t lived here for the last eight years.

She wasn’t going to be scared away from her own home. Besides, she didn’t know anyone in town. Like, not a soul, except for Brand and Micah, but she didn’t think two kids her own age and half her size counted as anyone that could help her. Besides she didn’t want to get them into trouble, if there was indeed trouble behind her front door.

Tessa heard thumping inside and stepped back, startled. She stepped back to the door and pressed her ear against it. It sounded like something was in the kitchen. Tessa stepped back again. It was the middle of the day, horror-movie-type things didn’t happen in the middle of the day, right? She imagined for a moment that maybe it was her dad. She’d arrived last night, after a very long flight from London, to an empty house, a white envelope full of crisp twenties, and a short note telling her he’d be back next Tuesday and to stay out of trouble. He hadn’t even mentioned her birthday in the note. Maybe he’d remembered it and come home early?

Yeah, right. He’d missed the last eight, no reason to be here for this one, even if she was back home.

Besides, her dad was a some
one
, not a some
thing.

Tessa edged open the door and the increased noise made the hairs on the back of her neck prick up wildly. The crashing sounds in her kitchen vaguely resembled massive footsteps. But like the way a mountain might sound if it had feet and began walking around on your hardwood floors. “Balls,” Tessa breathed before sliding into the foyer, her eyes on the kitchen while she reached into the hall closet for her father’s old baseball bat, right where it had always been as though it hadn’t moved once in the years Tessa had been gone. She rested the bat on her shoulder, grateful for her father’s perfect
predictability.

She caught just a glimpse of the mountain lumbering from one side of the kitchen to the other and her jaw dropped open. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill suburban burglar, this thing was covered head to toe in brownish green scraggly hair. This thing had a shoulder span wider than a doorway and must have been nearly seven feet tall. Its shoulders were stooped so that gnarled hands attached to arms as wide as tree trunks nearly dragged across the floor. Tessa raised an eyebrow. It appeared to be opening cabinets and drawers as if searching for something. Tessa shook her head hoping to make the sight go away, but the monster remained. A jagged tremor of fear ran through her, settling deeply and nauseously in her stomach, and she bit her tongue to quell it. She turned for the front door. This was way over her teenage pay grade, no matter how long she’d been on her own.

With her hand on the door to escape, the noise behind her suddenly stopped. The thing said something under its breath that sounded like “
whore killer,”
but that couldn’t be right, could it? Tessa turned to look toward the kitchen, and the thing stood there, giant and terrifying, but also kinda funny-looking, filling up the massive opening to the kitchen, one hand holding an empty kitchen drawer, its contents strewn all over the floor. Its nose was like a misshapen light bulb, its mouth long and thin with sharp teeth poking out, and the eyes were black and small like shiny beads. When it spoke again, Tessa expected a growl or a roar, but instead she got broken but polite English, slightly accented. It sounded…Norwegian?

“Scion.
You are it?” the thing said more than asked.

“Huh?” Tessa asked, dumbfounded.

“You are it. Scion,” it said, dropping the drawer it was holding. Tessa stared at the drawer.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, and then bit her lip, unsure why she cared.

“You is what I am looking for,” it said simply.

“You thought I’d be in a drawer?”

“I do not know your size. Mortals come in all sizes, I think,” it said, explaining itself, and then added, “Like goats.”

“Yes, well, I suppose, but few fit in drawers, or would want to,” Tessa said, blinking stupidly, feeling as if she’d stepped into a
Twilight Zone
episode.

“I don’t know of such things. But now you are here.”

“Yes. Now I’m here.” Tessa repeated back while looking around her house at all the destruction the thing had caused. Books pulled from shelves, furniture tipped over, a plant toppled, soil spilling across the floor. Looking at the mess she realized how pissed her dad was going to be and she found herself suddenly very angry and unable to stop herself from popping off. “Thanks for destroying my damn house. What do you want?”

“Now you are here. Now we fight,” it said simply.

“Um. No?” Tessa said more as a question, simultaneously gripping the bat in her hand more tightly, preparing for anything.

It came at her much faster than she anticipated considering its size, and Tessa was so startled that she wasn’t able to do anything except squeal a little and dodge out of the way, escaping into the dining room. She stood gaping at where the thing had clearly gotten into the house—the massive picture window that looked out onto the back lawn was smashed to bits. “Dammit!” Tessa shouted but before she could say anything else, the thing tackled her from behind. They both tumbled through the already broken window and rolled onto the lawn outside.

Tessa got to her feet and looked around. Better at least to be out here where there was less fine china, she thought. She looked at her arms and legs, surprised that nothing was broken. In fact, she felt pretty good. Like, a lot better than you should feel after being hit by something that must weigh 500 pounds and going through the remains of a broken window. She turned to look at the thing on the grass only to find that it had already gotten up and was in mid-swing. It clipped her across the face with its giant fist,
and the force sent Tessa flying partway across the yard. She landed painfully on her back.

Okay, so, whatever was going on with her she could definitely still feel pain. But a blow that probably should have killed her hadn’t.

“Not so tufffff,” the thing grumbled as it lumbered toward her and then stood over her, preparing to punch her again while she was still down. Tessa drove her foot up into the thing’s groin area. She didn’t know if it actually had a groin, but she figured it couldn’t hurt matters. And indeed the thing fell to its knees and then rolled away from her with a sighing groan of pain. “Mean though,” it said, as if narrating its thoughts on her to itself as it slowly climbed back to its feet. Tessa popped herself into a standing position and they stood there looking at one another, about eight feet of bright green lawn between them.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t break into your house now, did I?” Tessa said, eyeing her bat, which lay on the ground too far away to easily reach. Tessa had been in her share of fights before, well, okay, way more than her fair share of fights, but this was ridiculous. And she didn’t even know what they were fighting about.

“Suppose,” the thing said, grumbling a bit and taking a long armed swing at her, apparently not caring one way or another about the bat on the ground. This time, however, Tessa saw the punch coming. While she didn’t have time to get out of the way, she squared her shoulders and anchored her feet in the dewy grass, raising her arms defensively, preparing to take the hit. It hurt like blazes when the punch landed but she didn’t go flying across the yard this time and slight surprise registered on the creature’s mossy face as Tessa took her turn at a punch. She connected with its general jaw area and the thing reeled back. It looked at her while massaging its face. “Strong,” it said, still narrating. Tessa looked at her fist, more shocked than the creature was. She couldn’t believe she’d actually connected, let alone hurt it.

“Thanks,” Tessa said, distracted, wondering how her hand wasn’t broken. The creature lunged at her and they went down together in a pile of arms and legs, rolling across the lawn, jockeying for position, until they crashed into some heavy cast-iron lawn furniture, Tessa on top, straddling the thing. Tessa drew back her fist and punched it three times in the face, trying to stun it, which worked, like, not at all, and instead just seemed to annoy it. Plus it oofed out a breath of foul air from somewhere deep inside that made Tessa wince in horror. The creature returned her punches, and Tessa felt her jaw nearly slip out of joint on the last one. She tried to say “ow” but it came out more like a growl. Tessa reached up to the top of the nearby patio table and pulled down a pair of massive hedge clippers. She spun the clippers in her hand like she was possessed by some kind of Kung Fu weapons master and drove them pointy side first at the creature’s head. It jerked to the left,
and the clipper blades buried themselves in the grass and dirt. The creature growled at her.