Through Their Eyes

The Memory That Bled

The air split open with a sound like shattering glass.

Suddenly, Emby was no longer in the graveyard with Skylar. She was standing in a bedroom, but it wasn’t hers. The wallpaper peeled like dry dead skin. The bed was empty, but the sheets moved as if someone invisible was laying under it.

A soft sob echoed. “Emby…”

She turned and again there was Skylar, her face peering as though she was fighting between life and death. “You’re not supposed to see this yet,” she whispered. “It’s showing you what it wants.”

“What who wants?” Emby cried.

“The one beneath the town. The thing they called the Beast Beneath. It feeds on memory. Every time I die, it grows stronger and we start to remember less.”

Emby’s vision blurred. She felt blood dripping from her nose. The air tasted metallic. “I remember everything,” she said weakly.

Skylar shook her head. “Not for long.”

Then her face twisted and her mouth tearing wider and wider, until her jaw unhinged in a silent scream. Shadows poured from her throat like smoke and swallowed the room whole.

Everything went dark.

Again.