A Night for a Fright

Sixteen-year-old Cassita walked along the outskirts of her town under a rising full moon, head swimming. Five days earlier, she had an extremely strange interaction with a teen in her class. He bit her suddenly, then she rammed her palm into his nose. His nose was broken and she had a wound that refused to close.

She scratched at the bandages that wrapped her arms, staring at the sand. The itchy sensation had started this morning. She felt hot and cold at times with a raging headache, and every part of her itched, especially the wound. It was like something was crawling underneath her skin. Was the kid infested or something?

She grimaced while continuing to walk. She liked the fresh air on normal nights, but now it wouldn’t clear her head. Her thoughts roared, jumbled and confused as the moon continued to rise. She stumbled forward through the sand and away from her village. Her muscles ached, felt like lead. Her fingernails felt like they were shifting. There was a pressure right behind her eyes. Was she dying? 

A change in texture below alerted Cassita that she had walked too far and too long. She didn’t even notice leaving the safety of the homes until she felt the large rubbery fauna. There was a scent in the air. Petrichor. Aloe. Freshly dug dirt. Why was she smelling all this? She stared into the swaying greenery. What was beyond the leaves in the dark? She needed to leave.

Turning her back to the woods, fear crept up her spine. The air was still and quiet. Unnaturally so. She should’ve been able to hear crickets or the scuttling of nocturnal creatures, but there was nothing. The world felt like it was holding its breath.

She vaguely knew the way home but she was disoriented. Her vision blurred in and out as she felt the moonlight on her skin. She felt like she was on fire. Her jaw ached. She looked around, trying to focus on anything that would lead her home.

Her breath hitched.

It felt like she was being watched.

From the jungle?

She turned her head to look as she groaned. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. Her mind was playing tricks. Blood pulsed in her ears. The itchy feeling grew. Pin prickles stabbed upward all along her body. She wanted to scream! Had to get home! 

She started to walk forward, keeping an eye on the stillness of the jungle, until she felt like she had placed significant distance between the two of them.

She turned around and her heart stopped. A dark silhouette hazily stood against the dimmed sand. A person? She blinked and it was gone.

Her mouth went dry.

Gooseflesh crept up her arms.

The hair on her neck stood.

A snap made her tense. Branch? From the woods. Couldn’t be the sand. She turned back around. Nothing. The jungle was silent.

A searing pain in her back made her gasp. Fall to her knees. Heat spread out from her spine. She thought she felt liquid roll down her back. Sweat? She gripped the sand. Something was crawling out from her. Her flesh felt like it was splitting open like a mole burrowing its way into the ground. She groaned in pain, saliva fell from her mouth in thick strands.

She barely registered the heavy footsteps walking her way.

“Poor girl. That boy damned you,” a low voice hissed.

Her back hurt. What now? Panic flooded her senses as the anguish grew.

But she willed her body to be strong.

Cassita flung her handful of sand backwards, and scrambled to her feet. She sprinted heavily toward the jungle. She flung away vines, ran through brittle branches, scraped herself on sturdy thorns. Rocks and twigs dug into her feet. The affliction didn’t matter. She could handle this discomfort. She just wanted to escape.

Crimson lights twinkled in her vision. She felt like she was going to pass out. Every step she took sent jarring vibrations through her bones. She looked back. The black figure pursued her and the jungle allowed it, almost like it wanted her to be caught.

A plan. She needed a plan!

A thick palm tree stood tall a few feet ahead. She gritted her teeth and pulled back her fist. This would hurt. Don’t think about it.

Break, please! Break like the kid’s nose!

Dual cracks reverberated through the brush and shook her body. Her hand screamed but the tree fell. Her hand felt dead. She heard a loud curse behind her and she ducked behind a large boulder. She hoped the chaos of the falling tree hid her decision.

She needed to slow her breathing or else they would hear. The jungle was becoming quiet again. Tears fell hot across her cheeks. Why was this happening?

She wanted to scream, but that would only attract. And not the townsfolk. She was too far away. She should’ve ran the other way!

Suddenly, her vision blacked out and pain shot like lightning across her back. It coursed through her arms and legs, thrashed like a gong inside her head. She fell forward, out of her cover, as moans of agony tumbled from her lips.

Her vision flickered back.

She felt her muscles contracting, pinching nerves and joints, her skin straining with even more ferocity. More liquid dribbled down from her back. Her bones creaked. She gripped the ground as something prickly tore through her back. Hair? The scream that came from her was involuntary. Couldn’t be stopped.

She heard twigs snapping behind her. Get up! Her mind yelled at her limbs but she was helpless against the misery, locked in place by agony. She felt a sharp kick ram into her side. She slammed into the boulder she hid behind before vomiting. She couldn’t see. Her fingers started to grow. Her back arched. She heard her clothes pop and rip.

“I almost feel sorry for you. You must be so afraid.” Cassita howled in response as her body began to seize. She couldn’t feel anything anymore, or maybe she was feeling too much. The person spat, saliva landing inches from her face. She recoiled, feeling heat flare up in her like a bonfire. She screamed again.

Her limbs shot out, cracking back and forth like spidering glass. Her eyes shifted, her jaw splintered, her teeth grew. What was happening?

“That’s enough,” the voice said. As she lay writhing, halfway through some transformation, the person unsheathed something. A knife? A sword? “Be free from this curse.” Bringing down the glinting, silver metal, the figure pierced her side.

She screamed up blood.

Mother, father!

Then the blade was thrust sideways, then up. Through her chest, then shoulder. The blade was jerked out of her flesh unceremoniously, summoning more pain than she thought possible.

“Salvation.” The figure placed the blade against her neck.

Cassita wished she had run the other way.

She wished she hadn’t messed with that boy.

She wished she had more time.