Chapter 17: Run

"What even is that thing?" I finally asked.

After thirty minutes of sprinting and no incidental run-ins with any dangerous villains, I finally convinced Paxton to slow his pace down to a walk. His longer legs allowed for him to remain several paces ahead of me and much like a blind man meandering about the forest alone, he insisted on touching every piece of flora that came near his grasp. The space between us allowed for a comfortable silence to settle as if we had simply forgotten each other's presence. That was probably for the best seeing how neither one of us intended on braiding friendships bracelets or planning lunch dates anytime soon.

The silence, however, was eating away at my mind. Every insignificant sound made me jump and with no clear indication that we would be escaping the woods soon, I found my sanity slowly unraveling. The forest reminded me of impressionist paintings. The ones my mother purchased on a whim, one mid-summer day at the local farmer's market. She hung them in the parlor room, to show friends from her prayer circle, who frequented our house, how culturally superior she was to them. I thought the whole ordeal was a bit ridiculous, seeing how the paintings looked to be crafted by a toddler's fingers. The trees were replaced by tall, whispy lines, painted in black, looming in front of a gray background. As I looked around the forest, I found that I couldn't distinguish the garish-looking painting from my own reality.

Paxton snapped the branch in his hand upon hearing my voice. "It's a demon."

His voice was flat as if I were speaking to a recording.

"How do you know that? Have you ever heard of Bambua Sap?" I asked.

"It's called Daruma San and what else could it be?" He seemed unwilling to continue on with the conversation but I couldn't just leave it at that. There was a monster haunting us down and we had no idea what we were up against.

"Maybe it's a witch?"

"On Earth?" He looked back and cocked a brow. "There's no chance, all the witches are in the Otherworld and the portal only opens on the New Year. There's no way in or out before that."

"Do you really think there aren't any Others left on Earth. I mean, not even one?"

A Neo-Witch Hunt Era transpired during the early 2050s as every developed nation and every developing nation, with the necessary resources, persecuted any individual suspected of possessing Other qualities. In the United States, the FBI managed a 24-hour hotline as paranoid individuals called to report their rowdy neighbors, atheist cousins, and estranged ex-partners. There were no exceptions, even the famed and wealthy were caught up in hostile accusations as incriminating stories appeared in the tabloids. Billionaire bad boy and America's most sought out bachelor, Thomas Duke lll, found himself entangled in a press war as business associates began to untangle his web of lies. After the FBI launched an investigation into his past they quickly discovered that the billionaire was lying about his age and about his business dealings. As a 126 year-old vampire, the FBI believed Duke stole the business rather than inheriting it from a "distant uncle".

Kathleen Scott, a social media influencer, was also arrested at the height of witch hunt after friends found strange markings throughout her house and an altar in her basement. The socialite was selling meditative teas on various online platforms- the "teas" were later discovered to be potions. It seemed like no one was safe from suspicion but there had to be at least one or two who managed to evade capture. I mean, they managed to escape the first Witch Hunt during the seventeenth century and while tracking technology had certainly improved since, these creatures possessed something beyond human capabilities- magic.

"The only witches left on this Earth are the ones in uniforms that match yours and my own." said Paxton.

I threw my arms up in surrender. "Ok, then how do you know it's a demon?"

Paxton slowed his pace considerably, allowing for me to catch up with him. Now that I was standing by his side I didn't miss the eye roll. "Daruma San is the name of a japanese demon." He spoke as if that was common knowledge.

"Is that a thing in Seattle? Do you guys chit chat about demons in your free time?" The mere thought was mind boggling to me, seeing how little we spoke of such matters outside of church in Darwin.

"No," Paxton responded sharply, "how much do you know about Ana's life before Garrenbuck?"

His questioned disarmed me. "Um-well, Ana never really liked to talk about stuff and I didn't see a reason to pry."

Paxton grabbed a low hanging branch and held it above my head as we carefully trudged on. "Sounds like her."

The tips of Paxton's ears turned pink as he recounted the memory. He looked no more willing to talk about his past than Ana did but he continued regardless. "Ana and I grew up in Federal Way, it's a coastal city on the outskirts of Seattle. We lived in this small two-bedroom apartment with her parents and our Abuela. It wasn't easy, we ate a lot of popcorn for dinner and abuela slept on the futon."

It was an unsettling image. A young Paxton and Ana sitting at a sloping formica kitchen island, straining their necks to watch a gimmicky cartoon show about two talking animals, while their Abuela lazed across the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness. I imagined them crunching on kernels as they reached the end of their popcorn respective bags, unwilling to admit to each other that they were hungry for more. They looked practically unrecognizable, their shaggy curls covering the unique set of features which allowed for me to pick them out in the middle of the crowd. They were children too, far more innocent than the teenagers who suffered at the hands of the government.

"Abuela immigrated to the United States as a kid, before they closed the border," he continued "She used to tell us stories about the pre-war era. Like this one story about a friend from Mexico, whose mother used to practice witchcraft. They were children at the time and completely enchanted by the thought of magic so they researched spells and things like that on the internet. Until one day, they came across the bathtub game."

Goosebumps formed on my arm at the thought of little kids unknowingly playing with such a monster. "What happened?"

"They summoned the demon, just as we did, but abuela's friend did not survive." Paxton cringed at memory as if he too had been present that gruesome night.

I reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped in his tracks, his head whipping over to see what was wrong with me. Paralyzed by my discovery, I looked up at him and asked, "Are we going to die?"

Removing his hand from the tree, Paxton grabbed a hold of mine. This one, simple action managed to anchor me back to Earth before I could be whisked away by my fears. "We're going to make it out of here, all of us. I promise."

He spoke with such sincerity I almost felt compelled to believe him but then I heard the snap of a tree branch and the echoes of haunted whispers in the wind. Paxton's grip grew tense as the alien sounds grew louder, he threw his body in front of me anticipating an attack. He, like Ana, clearly suffered from a savior's complex but I was not in need of his protection. We had been in various training groups together and therefore he should have known that I was quite capable of holding my own.

"We can run." I pushed past him and slipped into a defensive stance.

Paxton held a finger to his mouth, wordlessly. I guess that meant running was not an option. The shadows taunted my eyes, creating an image of two ghastly silhouettes who seemed to be barreling forward with no intention of stopping. The pale moonlight did little to unveil the identities of those running towards us but I had a hunch they weren't demons. There was something desperate in the way they moved, their arms flailing wildly, barely stumbling past the loose branches and shrubbery in their path.

"Phe! Paxton!" Paxton and I stood up, shocked to hear the familiar voice of our friend.

Joan and Esther halted to a stop before nearly running us over. They collapsed to the floor, their bodies shaking and covered in sweat and dirt. Up close, it was impossible not to recognize my two friends. Joan's mahogany skin glimmered with sweat, her nose wide and flaring as she desperately tried to rescue her lungs. Like a baby horse trying to stand for the first time, Joan made a feeble attempt to rise to her feet only to fall back onto the ground. If possible, Esther looked to be in worse shape. She lied on the forest floor with clumps of mud and twigs smeared across her uniform, her skin paler than my own and ravaged by scars.

"Where's Ana?" Paxton looked around the forest waiting for his cousin to suddenly appear.

"We...l-lost...her." Joan said.

Joan kept her eyes closed as she attempted to speak and therefore she did not have to witness the look of murder which erupted on the planes of Paxton's face. Afraid for my friends safety, I knelt between Esther and Joan. I threw my arms out as if to protect them from his fury. Paxton did not try to attack them, rather crippling a tree as he kicked its trunk and ripped off a sturdy branch. Upon hearing the ruckus of his temper tantrum my battered friends scrambled to their feet.

"There was nothing we could do!" Cried Esther. "We were ambushed by that...thing."

She clung to Joan's hand as memories of the frightful event brought tears to her eyes. "It was awful. He appeared out of nowhere, just two red eyes watching us from the shadows. Then, when we tried to run he materialized in front of us- h-his face. Oh my god, his face."

Esther turned suddenly and heaved the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Joan stood behind her, rubbing small circles on her back.

"Ana told us to run. She said she had a plan to distract that thing. It's a miracle that we escaped," Joan finished, filling us in.

"Why didn't you go back for her?" Paxton snarled, his face inches from Joan's.

"And risk getting killed?" Joan bared her teeth.

"She would have done that for you," Paxton said.

Joan released hold of Esther, cracked her knuckles and prepared to swing at him. There were many ways to describe Joan Calloway but a bad friend was not oneof them. She was loyal, fiercely loyal, like a soldier. If things were simple, she would have sacrificed her life to save Ana Cortez. But things were not simple, confronted with Ana's plea to save her own life and the danger of risking Esther's safety, Joan had no choice but to flee.

I didn't intervene when Joan gave Paxton a black eye nor did I step in when he offered her a bloody nose. Sure, it was a waste of my time but it was also none of my business. How could Paxton forgive Joan for forsaking the life of the only family he had left? And though I empathized with him, the outcome would have been much worse if they had stayed. Then, we'd be losing three lives rather one.

I didn't dare voice my opinion. Rather, I stood off to the side and rocked a crippled Esther in my arms. My friend was not fragile by any means, she had survived the horrors of Garrenbuck thus far and she escaped a murderous demon. So, when Esther began to whimper, her eyes welling with unshed tears I grew concerned.

"Esther what's wrong?" She began to shake in my arms.

Joan and Paxton abandoned their fight as they heard the unease in my voice. Joan rushed over to her friend's side and attempted to pull her free from my hold but she refused to move. Paralyzed by fear, Esther was only able ominously point towards the darkened forest. Wizened trees curled into one another as they created a sinister archway. An ember hovered above the darkened path. It looked odd, I thought, but it did not occur to me that the glowing stone was an eye until after I watched the creature blink.

Then, I realized my mistake. It was not an ember drifting in the wind but rather the eye of the demon. Daruma San.

"Paxton take Esther and run," I whispered.

Despite whether I wanted to believe in his methods or not, Paxton was the only person confident in navigating the forest. I could barely decipher left from right and Esther remained a puddle of emotions in my arms, unable to speak, let alone fight for her life. Leaving her to stand against the Daruma San would be to doom her to certain death. She deserved a chance and Paxton was the only one who could ensure her safety. Without waiting for the reaction of either of my friends, I pushed Esther into Paxton's arms and grabbed hold of Joan's hand.

"No," Paxton protested. "Ana told me to keep you safe. That was the last thing she said to me."

"And I'm telling you to run." I fought back.

Paxton stood with two hands locked on his hips, his face contorted with visible fury. I paid him little attention, unwilling to let his stubbornness be the reason he and Esther were murdered on the forest floor. Ana Cortez protected me from the terrors of Garrenbuck, she did so at her own peril and now with much of her fate left unknown, the burden had been assumed by her cousin. I couldn't go on like that, relying on the strength of my friends.

As a snarl sounded from the shadows, I yelled. "Run!"

**Major Clarification: we do not know for certain the fate of Ana Cortez. Nothing has been confirmed as to whether she escaped the demon or not and that's why Phe is not freaking out. Ok now that, that is out of the way please tell me what you guys thought of these Paxton/Phe moments and the little bit of insight given into Ana and Paxton's life. Also, I am on vacation right now so I am sorry if these updates are a little slow and not as high quality as the others.

Thank you so much for all the support! Here is some more amazing artwork by @chemicalvamp