Eunice's father grabbed the stranger around the collar and hauled him up. “On your feet, scumbag,” he shouted. As he pulled the stranger close, the hood fell back to reveal a man in his early thirties. His hair was dark and long, brushing the top of his shoulders. A shaggy beard hung from his chin. A fanged tattoo stood out on his neck. Red droplets were etched on his skin beneath the inked teeth. Staining his lips and beard were disgusting gobs of drying blood.

“Ugh,” her father grunted in repulsion. “What kind of freak are you?”

At last, the stranger spoke. “The lambs curse the wolves as monsters because they do not understand the grand purpose of nature.” Through the blood, he flashed a crooked grin. “Hold your delusions, little sheep.”

The butt of her father’s gun slammed into the freak’s face, sending him to the ground. “You better start making sense. I hate prattling. Keep it up and my trigger finger might get a little twitchy.”

In answer, a mad chortle slipped from the freakish stranger’s mouth as he rose back to his knees. A wash of fresh blood mingled with the old. Chips of teeth slipped through his lips. “Does the fool know the seasons? Can he comprehend the warnings that nature sends? No, he simply rages, believing that his anger can somehow change what is beyond his control.” As he tried getting back to his feet, his robe opened to reveal he was skinny to the point it was sickening. He wore boxer shorts and nothing else. An odd layer of red covered his entire torso. He looked like some freak out of a horror movie.

Eunice stood helpless as her father struck the man again. He’s going to kill him, she thought, feeling a chill run over her body. Her mind ran through all the cop procedurals she’d ever watched with her old man. After each episode, he would shake his head as if to say, “I can’t believe anyone could become like that.” Now, as she stood in shock, her father became the very violent man he could not understand. Eunice’s lip quivered as it did when she was a little girl. She wanted someone to turn to, anyone to tell her what to do. To her growing sorrow, she was alone with her own pitiful thoughts.

A weak voice strolled up from the distant past, Do you love your Daddy?

Yes, came the simple reply.

Would you do anything to save him from himself?

Her eyes flicked to her gun. Yes. Gripping her handle, she leveled her firearm into the air and squeezed off a round. The gunshot rang out through the mist. Behind her, Eunice heard Jeannie squeak in fear but the girl kept her eyes trained on the men in front of her. If the movies taught her anything, the sound of a firing gun sent people running like a bunch of scared rabbits. She expected her father to stop attacking, allowing the freak to escape so they could each run for cover. Shockingly, when he relented his assault, he only paused to catch his breath as the freak struggled to get back to his feet again. It was like no one heard the shot.

Desperate to get them away from each other, she fired two more rounds. No reaction. It isn’t working, she lamented. What else can I do? A dark thought passed through her mind. She didn’t want to act on it but were they leaving her any choice? Leveling the gun, she pointed at the wounded freak. At first, she expected her hands to tremble beyond control. A simple rule of gun safety was to not point the barrel at anything unless you planned to shoot. Aiming her weapon anywhere near her father was a clear threat of violence even if she had no intention to shoot him. Terrifyingly enough, not a single shake made its way to her fingers. They remained steady as bolted door during a light breeze. “Dad,” she called, struggling to keep her voice calm and stern. “Leave him alone. My gun is pointed at both of you. I can shoot him if he attacks you. Get away so I won’t hurt you.” She had never threatened her father in her life. It felt so wrong but she wasn’t sure of what other option she had.

“You should consider your friend blessed,” the freak taunted her father as if Eunice didn’t exist. “He was chosen to serve a greater purpose. Only through death could our true purpose be fulfilled.”

Eunice watched her old man stand frozen, lost in the horror that he was hearing. “Dad,” she called again, struggling to hold back her own tears. This man killed Ray but she couldn’t focus on that. If she did, she’d start shooting without thinking. She kept her gun trained on the demented man, hoping to keep him back while she got her father away. “Please. Come back here. I got him.” Unfortunately, it was already too late. Her father didn’t notice his daughter pointing a weapon his way. If he did, he didn’t care. His eyes remained glued on the disgusting man in front of him, who wasn’t finished with his horrific speech.

Eunice debated if she should shoot the bleeding man, wondering if that was enough to snap her father out of his red-visioned trance. A quake of uncertainty shook in her guts. She knew that life was not a movie or old western. Heroic characters could shoot the knife out of a killer’s hands as he was about to stab an elderly woman. They would riddle an enemy with bullets without hitting the vital organs. She was not such a hero. Despite her being a good shot, there was always the possibility that she could kill this freak of a man by mistake.

Do you want to be a murderer? a little child’s voice asked from the distant past. Murderers kill people. That’s bad. Suddenly, the trembling began. Her entire hand shook to the point she feared she’d end up dropping her firearm. Shooting a man...becoming a killer. Even to avenge Ray, could she do it? The very thought made her want to drop to her knees and puke. A worse thought came to mind. What if you hit Dad? that tiny child’s voice asked. That was a truth that could not be ignored.

When she first started shooting, her father gave her a simple lesson. “Eunice, a gun is not a toy,” he had said. “It’s a dangerous weapon. You never shoot at any animal unless you plan to kill. Don’t shoot at anyone unless in self-defense. Whenever guns are used, someone could die.” That was it. Her will crumbled and she sank down to the ground. No, she couldn’t take that risk. Tears running down her cheeks, she waited powerlessly as the following events unfolded.

“He’s only one of many sacrifices for this day,” the crazy man rambled. “What all will witness today is the fruit of years of labor. My people have worked tirelessly to ensure that all goes according to plan. Your friend put up a good fight, but we weren’t going to let him spoil all our efforts.”

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Without warning, her father swung his rifle like a baseball bat, striking the man in the stomach. The impact of the blow threw the man several feet to the right. “You freak,” her father shouted. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”

“Yes, but do you comprehend the importance of his death,” came a choked reply. To Eunice’s surprise, the deranged man crawled back to his feet. She feared he was on some kind of drug that kept him from feeling pain. “It is too late for your kind,” he taunted. “The Time of the Dragon has come. It will be glorious, but you won’t live to see it.”

“We’ll see about that,” her father shouted, charging the man. If his intention was to kill, he would’ve fired from where he stood. The men were too close together for her father to have a single chance of missing. With a shudder of horror, she knew what he intended to do. Her father planned to make this creep pay for every second of Ray’s suffering and Jeannie’s anguish. This wasn’t about justice; this was revenge.

Gripping the rifle with both hands, he raised it over his head to deliver a savage blow like a knight of old. Eunice tried calling out again but her father did not hear her. I could stop this, she thought, looking down at her gun. Her father’s life was in danger. If she shot the man first, she’d keep her father from beating the man to death. But he’ll be just as dead, came a quiet thought. The problem is still the same. Can you kill someone? It can’t be the same as shooting a deer. That kept her frozen to the ground and it was in that moment that everything went from horrible to much worse.

Right when her father was about to lower his gun-club, the crazed lunatic made a rush for him with surprising speed. The attacker’s arms shoved and made a grab for the rifle. They grappled with each like wrestlers, gripping whatever they could. Her father was at a terrible disadvantage as he struggled to keep the rifle in his possession. In desperation, he slammed his entire body against the lunatic. What neither of them realized was their fight had brought them closer to the long slope in the graveyard and all that was keeping them from it was a single gravestone. When her father shoved the murderer, he fell over the stone, but not before catching the gunman by the arm. Together, they tumbled over the side.

“No,” Eunice shouted as they rolled down the hill into the mist. Their cries and grunts echoed until at last a single shot rang out, followed by four more. A hush fell on the graveyard. For a long time, Eunice could not move. Is he dead? she thought, not wanting to even give the thought room in her head, but there it was without her prompting.

Eunice remembered one of her last conversations with her mother. The young woman was sick for some time and everything was getting worse. As far as Eunice was concerned, little girls should never see a parent in that state. Still, her father had to work as hard as he could to pay for the medical bills. He needed his daughter to watch out for his wife unless the unthinkable should happen.

Darling, her mother said. That was the nickname she used for both her and her father when she had something very important to say. I need you to be a big girl for your daddy. She paused, needing to regain her breath to continue speaking. It’s not fair for me to say this. Another pause. All little girls should think their daddy’s a regular Superman, but a bunch of those girls have mamas. A big pause. Your dad needs your help. He needs protecting. He thinks he can carry the world’s burdens on his shoulders. Pause. You need to remind him that he needs help and if you ever see him do something dangerous, pull him away from that ledge.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she breathed, realizing that she had failed. Fueled by that horror, she staggered back to her feet and limped over to the slope, holding her gun in a tight grip. Waiting her step, she slowly started trudging down the hill. Behind her, she could hear Jeannie’s whimpering but ignored it. There would be time to worry about her after she confirmed that her father was alive. What if he isn’t? a little child’s voice asked. The answer was simple: shoot his murderer until she watered the graveyard with his blood.

When she heard footsteps approaching, she dropped to one knee to keep herself somewhat obscured by the thickening mist. Hand shaking, she aimed her gun toward the oncoming steps. If that freak survived, she vowed, knowing that she could not hesitate this time. I’m taking him straight to the cops. I’ll make sure he pays for what he did. She didn’t worry about what would happen if the maniac tried attacking her. She had to take everything one step at a time. If she didn’t, she’d freeze up again.

To her delight, her father trudged out of the fog, blood running down his arm. “Dad,” Eunice wailed, racing to his side. Without thinking, she embraced him in a tight hug, like when a child gets the best present for a birthday. Her dad surviving was the best gift in the world. He struggled to return the affection but a pained grunt slipped through his lips. At once, she pulled away and grabbed his arm. Pulling up the sleeve, she found an ugly gash.

“He found some sharp rock and tried cutting me to pieces with it,” he explained.

Eunice listened but she was focused on the task at hand. Have to stop the bleeding quickly, she thought. Tearing at the bottom of her shirt, she managed to make three strips to wrap the wound.

As she worked, her father kept talking. “Freak bit my shoulder like he’s some kind of zombie but he fought like a bear. I think it took three shots to bring him down. The gun went off by mistake the first time. Maybe it was me. Maybe him. Hard to say. At that point, I started squeezing the trigger, hoping to hit him once. I think the second shot scared him.” He paused. “I’m not sure if he was trying to run away or get a new angle but I stopped him.”

“Is he...” she asked.

“Yes, he’s dead. Shot him twice in the chest.” he answered. For a second, she looked into his eyes. Eunice wasn’t sure what she hoped to find. Perhaps she wanted to see some hint of regret in his eyes. They watched enough movies with murderers for her to understand that killing was a horrific act for the perpetrator and the victim. One ended up dead while the other carried the burden of guilt for the rest of their life. In her father’s eyes, all she found were the flames of hatred flaring with each beat of his heart.

He fell quiet for a moment as his brow furrowed. His eyes looked at her but it was as if he was looking a thousand miles away. “When he died, he kept saying something about a dragon.”

A chill ran down Eunice’s spine. Jeannie had said something about a dragon too. What’s going on? she wondered but didn’t want to dwell on it long. Suddenly, she didn’t feel safe. “Dad, let’s go home.”

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay.” Unfortunately, the pair would never step into their home again. Nothing in their life would ever be the same again. This moment had changed them forever; however, that was just a small piece of a much larger puzzle that had all of its pieces falling into place as the fog rolled in and the storm was approaching.