The Cocoon Pt. 2

Harri

The sky is darkening. 

And I’m alone. 

That monster ate Harlow and Francis, I’m sure. I heard my brother cry my name, but I didn’t go back for him. I stop running, sliding behind a tree with tears streaming down my face. Even though Harlow was rude and obnoxious, he was my twin. We came into this world together, and now he’s gone. Half of my soul ripped away. Like nothing.

Guilt jabs at my heart, and I clutch my chest, the sobs relentless. A branch snaps. I scan the trees, searching through the wiry branches for movement. I take a deep breath. That’s right. To avenge Harlow, I must make it out of this forest alive. I can cry later.  

A guttural screech tears through the brush, and my blood freezes. I propel off the tree. Luckily, I’ve been training as a distance runner on the track team in my middle school. I can outrun the monster. The trees grow sparse, and it doesn’t take long to realize I’m far away from home and way out of my element. 

I step out of the forest into a field. Another tree line sits a mile across on the other side. A full moon hovers in the sky, all the stars watching my dire situation. I pull at my hair in frustration. Think, Harri. Come on. There must be a road nearby somewhere. I’ve run at least eight miles by now. My calves ache, and my feet throb. If I’m lost out here for too much longer, I’ll die of hunger and thirst.

Wings flap. 

Then something lands gently behind me. Something large. 

My heart’s a ping-pong ball being walloped back and forth by two professionals. If I move, I’m dead. I’ll be in that thing’s stomach with Harlow. I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s kind of poetic, actually. 

A voice enters my mind. My temples flare, and I grab my head. 

You can be with your brother, girl, the voice says. I don’t like chasing my prey. 

“Screw… you!”

I take off. I won’t go down without a fi— a tendril curls around my ankle, spikes stabbing into my flesh, and I topple to the ground. I dig into the dirt and reach for the blades of grass, but nothing helps. The monster’s acidic saliva bites through my skin, and I groan.

Fight, Harri! Twelve is too young to die! I grab a stick, whirling and swinging it into the monster’s oblong head.

The wood shatters, and the monster stands on its hind legs. It’s scrawny, with grotesque, veiny, white skin that doesn’t match its dark, bat-like wings. It shows me its obsidian claws and barbed tail that splits into three.

I could make your trip painful, the monster says. Then its face diverges, splitting apart until it looks like a blooming flower. But luckily for you, I’m a Transporter and not a Hunter.

The monster comes at me. I’m too scared to scream. I expect its jagged teeth to tear me apart, but there’s no pain. 

There’s nothing but darkness….