The Girl With Metal Claws

Encountering

ISIS

Isis sat in the dim light of her bedroom holding a bunch of envelopes. The papers felt rough and decaying in her fingertips as she ran her hand through them.

She had promised herself that she would never open those letters and read the words of her isolated father in a confined cell. It had been 6 years since her father had been locked up in jail for his crimes. And Isis never wanted to forgive him for how selfish he had been. He had never once thought about what would make out of her daughter that he was leaving behind.

But she had his letters in her hands, strumming through them, struggling to make a decision. At last, Isis picked up the most recent letter he had sent a week ago and skimmed through the envelope. The letter toppled over to her hand.

"Hi. I know you aren't reading this because if you did, you'd have fallen for at least one of my tricks that I had pulled to try and make you reply. But I'd like to think that you're reading. You're making a disgusted face and crumpling up the poor paper. I get it, Isis, you're right."

"And like the previous letters that you've probably burnt, I'm sorry. No matter how many times I say it, it won't mean enough. If your mother was alive, there would've been no need for letters. We would be these words, the three of us together. I ruined us. I laugh here, Isis, behind these unstable bars. But even that makes me guilty. What happiness could a man like me deserve when he pushed his daughter to live her life in that miserable place? If you read my previous letters, you'll see the self loath filled words so I won't bore you with that. Guess, I'll end it here then."

"Lastly, I want to say, I hope you'd forgive me someday. And once they let me go, we'll go to the sea together. Like I promised. I'd take you there so don't go on your own. Love, dad." The letter ended.

She couldn't stop the pent up tears and anger from overflowing. She crumpled up the letter and ripped it from the middle before tossing it away. She opened the other letters as well but her frustration only grew.

"I've been sick for a few days, won't you reply me back?"

"I won money at a game, would you like to know how? Reply to me."

"I dreamt of your mother again, reply me to know."

All the letters Isis read had a bait set from her father, wanting to hear from his daughter. She cried till her eyes felt swollen, clutching the letters to her chest. Did he ever mean the things he claimed, Isis thought?

She got up and started collecting the torn pieces of paper. She started taping them back like they used to be. Her dad was wrong, she hadn't burnt the previous letters. She didn't dare to.

Suddenly, the noise of the front door of the house unlocking sounded and Isis got to her feet. She could hear her aunt Davina's laugh but along with that, she could hear the deep voice of a man. Isis stepped back. She knew her aunt never held back or acknowledge the presence of Isis in the house. She did whatever she wanted.

It was Davina's house after all.

As Isis exited her room, she saw her aunt entering the house with a man. Both of them were drunk, stumbling back towards the room. Davina shot Isis a mocking grin and went her way.

Isis knew that in another minute, she'd start hearing those disgusting moans and noises from her aunt's room. So, she decided to take a stroll outside, she needed air and an escape.

She quietly left the house.

~

The night was ecstatic. Stars had spread themselves out, leaving no gap in between. The moonlight covered the streets with its silver shadow.

Several people were out to see the sight. To reflect on their strange lives. To remind themselves of what they were made of. The beautiful night gave the illusion that finally all of their dreams would come true.

Isis inhaled the frozen air as she walked ahead, kicking a stone along her way. She was lost in her thought. Slowly, she could feel the voices of the people fade away and the sounds deafening. The only time she focused on the street in front of her, she saw how far she had come. She was walking deeper and deeper into a dark street with no end. Behind her was a similar sight.

Closed in between walls, Isis stood with bewildered eyes. She had lost an idea of where she was.

Suddenly, hushed scratching noises came to her ears. The clamour was coming from behind her. Alarmed, she turned around. At first, nothing was visible. Except for the scrapes, not a sound.

She stepped closer, daring not to utter a word. Her footsteps were quiet and her spine was trembling. She decided to make a run for it in good time until she saw it. A dark figure sat in a corner of the alley, facing the stone wall. It was moving as if stroking the walls and drawing scratches all over it.

Isis inhaled sharply at the realisation of who she had encountered. Sweat trickled out of her forehead, running down her back. She was crying at her fate.

The dark figure rose, taking its real shape. It grew taller and taller, darker than anything she had ever seen before. It turned to face her but she couldn't make out any of its features. It was a shadow, a pitch-black cloud looming over her. She trembled, tightly clutching her cardigan till it started to tear apart.

It raised its hand, holding it right in front of her quivering face. She stared at the hand. It looked rotten. The fingertip pointed at Isis, slowly coming closer to her. This time, she tried to move but she could. Something was binding her, restraining her movements.

She tried crying out for her help for her voice wouldn't come out. Before she realised, the fingertip touched her forehead and then it dug into Isis's skin. Then it started moving down. The excruciating pain took over her body as her brain started numbing. The fingertip was started scraping her face from the forehead and down her eye in a straight line. The blood blinded her vision but she couldn't scream.

Her left eye was being scratched out.

The throbbing ache made black ripples form in her vision and she couldn't hold out too long. She was close to passing out when she tried to hold onto her consciousness.

With all her strength, she managed to form her hands into a fist. The moment her fingers clutched together, a loud thud and shattering noise sounded from beside her. The dark figure stopped moving as Isis managed to look to her side, shaking in pain.

That's when she noticed that the wooden boxes sitting on the edge of the alley had shattered on their own. No, Isis realised, it was she who had done it. She had something supernatural inside her that she had seized to use till that moment. But now she knew.

Suddenly, the force that was binding her body released and she fell on her knees on the ground. Blood from her eye dripped on the floor and crying just strengthened the pain. She looked up at the hooded figure standing over her and she screamed.

Louder and louder till her voice cracked. She cried out in agony, in pain, in how miserable she felt. She let it all out, bleeding in wrath.

Then she stood up, hunched and panting. Her wrath wasn't hers anymore, everything around her felt it. Wooden planks, boxes, cartons, the dumpsters and rocks had started floating in the air. They were accumulated over Isis, as her armour.

Isis stared at the hooded figure in front of her, ready to do anything to leave. But she saw it move back. The shadow backed off, slowly engulfing back into the darkness.

Silence.

The hovering objects behind her fell with loud clatters as Isis's magic released. Her body shivered from the spine-chilling cold she was feeling. She was let go off.

~

The next thing she knew, she was stumbling and struggling as she walked the streets alone. Wiping the blood on her sleeves and biting her lip to numb the pain, she reached the basement.

She remembered banging on the door till Fred opened up and she fell inside. Entering the basement, Fred, Garry and Meraki stared at her wide-eyed.

They ran up to her, holding her up and tried to calm her down.

"I.. can't breathe," those were the last words she said before blacking out.

~

Consciousness didn't feel like being conscious at all. Numb all over, on medications, it was as if Isis could feel her pulse throbbing, her blood flowing. She was aware of everything inside her body.

Her eyes open to a dimly lit room with a strong smell of medicines and phenyl. One of her eyes was bandaged while it strained to keep the other open.

She realised she wasn't alone in the room. Alerted, she squirmed in her place, trying to get away. Suddenly, a hand was placed on her shoulder. It felt relieving when she saw Jack's face in front of her.

"Relax, lay back down," Jack offered, concerned but still smiling. Isis shook her head. Jack helped her sit up and rest her back on the pillow. "We can talk only when you're ready."

Isis glanced back at Jack's eyes. They had genuineness in it, something that she had been deprived of her whole life.

"I'll be outside, then?" He said, already walking away. Isis didn't want him to leave. And sometimes wanting things to stay longer meant going out of the way.

"No," Isis said, "I want to talk about it now."

She sighed of relief when she saw Jack walk back to her and sit on the chair beside her bed.

For minutes, they talked. She found herself opening up to him a lot more than he asked her to. She was telling him how terrified and angry she felt at the moment. When she questioned herself as to why she was doing such a thing, she realised that Jack was listening to her. He was willing to listen to her unlike everyone else.

She spoke till she felt exhausted.

"I thought I wouldn't survive it," Isis said, her words wobbling out of her mouth, "I don't know what to do... I cannot get it out of my head."

"Don't stress yourself, take it easy," Jack said leaning towards her to comfort her further. She broke down into tears, weeping even if she didn't want to. That's when, unexpectedly, she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her tightly. Shocked, she sat with her head buried in his chest as Jack hugged her.

"It's okay. You're okay. It'll pass," he said in faint whispers.