I

When Mary pulled into the driveway she was exhausted. Killing the engine she sat in the dark for several minutes while the events of the day played through her head on repeat, even though she hadn’t consented to it. Did you hurt someone? Mary shook the thoughts from her head. How could she jump to conclusions like that? No wonder Norah was angry.

Then another thought popped into Mary’s head, a shameful one at that. What if Norah really was something dark and evil like her had mother said before disowning them. A child of satan born with black eyes on a night with no moon. For years Mary hoped her mother was wrong, just bitter and full of superstition, but now she wondered if this really was the start of something terrible.

Norah had never gone off like that, even after the day she killed Susan, she seemed more sad. Remorseful. Timid even. Now those feelings had turned to anger. Mary had never seen such a look of hatred in her daughter’s eyes as she threw those chairs around the room. Mary’s shin still stung from where the chair hit her, it was bound to leave a bruise.

She looked up at the house to see that the bathroom light was switched on and her heart stopped in her chest. Norah was home. Taking a few last bracing breaths, Mary climbed out of the car and made her way towards the house. Fighting against every instinct she had to get back in that car, drive away and never look back.

Her fingers were shaking when she turned the key in the lock. As the door swung into the dark, eerily silent house, Mary poked her head through the threshold and listened, “Norah?”

When there was no answer, she tentatively entered, pulling the door to but not fully closing it, just in case she needed to make a quick getaway. It was strangely cold inside, and when Mary walked around to investigate, she found the kitchen door was left wide open. Illuminated by the moonlight, something dark and viscous was smeared all over the floor and it smelled of metal.

Standing in the archway, with her heart hammering in her chest, Mary reached for the light switch and she flipped it on. Immediately, her shoulders dropped in relief seeing that the shadowy pool was merely muddy footprints smeared all over her nice black and white floor.

Mary sighed and shook her head, carefully stepping over the still wet mud so that she could close the back door. When she got there Mary paused, there on the white doorframe was a little smear of what looked like blood, in what appeared to be a small thumb print.

Horrified, Mary closed the door and locked it before rushing off back into the house, “Norah!”

As she climbed the stairs, still there was no answer, but Mary could hear the shower running and there was steam spilling out from under the bathroom door.

Tentatively, Mary knocked, “Norah?” The water went off, and Mary heard some fumbling inside, but still no answer, “I’m coming in–”

Mary opened the door to see Norah swiftly wrap a towel around herself before sitting on the edge of the bath, her skin was a dash pink, but she otherwise seemed alive and well, yet there was an odd look on her face. Part angry, part scared.

“God, mom, don’t you ever knock?” Norah pulled the towel tighter around herself to really sell the violation of privacy.

There was something so normal about her reaction and it weirdly made Mary feel better, like it was really her daughter again, “Sorry…”

Mary stood upright and opened the door further, the bathroom was steamy and chaotic, but none of that seemed out of the ordinary for Norah. Mary felt like she should say something but words were eluding her.

Norah seemed to sense her hesitance and helped break the silence, “Did you want something?”

“You were gone a while…”

There was that weird look again, as if she was trying to suss Mary out, figure out how much she knew. Then, Norah simply shrugged, getting up and walking to the mirror so she could brush her hair, “I needed to get some air”.

Norah glanced at Mary sheepishly, as if trying to judge if the explanation had landed, before she turned her attention back to the mirror. She didn’t much want to meet Mary’s eye. There was a stunted silence between them.

“I went out looking for you.”

Norah glanced down at the sink, placing the hairbrush on the counter with a careful and deliberate motion, “Yeah, well I'm here now”.

“I was worried.”

Norah gave her mother a sharp look, her jaw tensed in annoyance, “Thought I was up to no good?”

“Of course not! Why do you have to make everything so hostile all the–” Mary held back, trying not to let anger get the better of her, “I... I wanted to apologize... I shouldn't have spoken to you like that earlier…”

“I’d rather forget about it.”

Norah suddenly paled, shoving something deep down into the laundry basket before moving to the center of the bathroom. She was itching her skin and fidgeting in a nervous manner, like a child being punished. She had that look a lot these days. Mary’s shoulders drooped and she moved to hug Norah, only for her daughter to immediately back away.

It feel like a sharp stab to Mary’s already overburdened heart, “You never let me touch you any more”.

Norah scoffed, giving May the usual brush off, “You know I can’t”.

“You always say that.”

“Because I can’t trust myself, you saw me earlier, I’m like an undetonated bomb.”

Mary knew this wasn’t the reason, “But we barely even talk anymore”.

Norah growled in annoyance, shoving her way past Mary and out of the bathroom, “Why are you always on my case, it’s like I can never do anything right for you”.

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Mary followed as her daughter stormed towards her bedroom, “That’s not fair, Norah. Do you realize how hard it is for me when you keep shutting me out like this”. Mary shoved her hand across Norah’s door so she couldn’t enter the bedroom, “You haven’t let me be your mother in a long time. I just want to help you”.

Norah stared at the ground, her straggly wet hair dripping onto the carpet. She looked so tired, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, as she stood there hugging herself.

“I know. I'm sorry it's just…” Norah’s eyes widened at something in the room behind Mary and she gave her mother an urgent look, “Could we talk about this later?”

Mary frowned, what had been the reason for her daughters sudden change of attitude? She glanced into the bedroom but was only able to see darkness inside, made starker by the moonlight pouring through the still bare windows. Hesitantly, Mary removed her arm and stepped aside, allowing Norah to dart through the doorway.

“I’m here if you want to–” Mary turned around only to have the door slammed in her face, “…talk”.

Mary raised her arm ready to pound on the door but stopped herself. She stood with her hand hovering and her head leant against the cold wood. Without another word, she went downstairs to clean the kitchen floor.

Afterwards, she sat at the scratched little table she’d bought at a flea market around the time of Norah’s first birthday, so they’d have a place to put the wonky little cake she’d baked her. She imagined that tiny, brown-eyed girl staring at her with a Dora the Explorer bib and a shock of black pigtails.

Mary realized that she would finally have to accept that that little girl no longer existed.

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II

Norah stood with her body pressed against the door, she’d managed to stay her execution for the time being, but this did nothing to ease her anxiety.

She scanned the darkness with narrowed eyes, “Show yourself”.

A figure materialized near the corner of the room as Braran stepped into the moonlight with that caddish swagger of his. If only he had a body that she could hit, he’d be half-way out of town by the time she was finished with him.

“What the hell are you playing at, my mother could have seen you!”

“I’m sorry if you find me indecorous but we have slightly more important things to worry about.”

Norah turned the light on and saw that Braran’s usual smirk was replaced by another expression, one of anxiety, “Are you talking about that thing that attacked us?”

“You're leaving energy trails everywhere. I've been following them all over town”, Braran paused, “Something attacked you?”

“You don’t know?” she could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t, “It was out on the edge of town, I was walking and this thing attacked, it was my neighbour… but it wasn’t him. It was like something controlling him”.

Braran looked like he wanted to smile, “And you were forced to use your power?”

Norah nodded, “What’s going on, Braran?”

He furrowed his heavy brow and began to pace, then he glanced up suddenly, “You’re not telling me everything”.

The words hit Norah like knives and her face became hot. She tried to stammer her way through a lie before the facade crumbled and she burst into tears, “I… it was an accident”.

Braran appeared in front of her, his eyes intense, lowering his voice, “You hurt someone”.

Norah's head shot up and she glared at him, but then she nodded shamefully, “We were attacked. We…”

Braran wrenched his hands through his hair in exasperation, “Where?”

Norah frowned at him, “What?”

“The body. Where is it?”

“So you can hide the evidence again?” She scowled.

Braran gave her a wounded look, “What's the alternative? You go to jail?”

“Why not?” a bitter laugh escaped Norah as she swiped the tears from her cheeks, “I’m stacking up bodies, Braran, isn’t prison made for murderers like me?” Norah’s legs became weak again and slid down onto the floor.

Braran crouched down beside her, “And what good would that do?”

“I don't know!” Norah banged her head against the wall, angry with herself.

She forced herself up to her feet, pacing the room to try to return the feeling to her shaking legs. Braran didn’t speak for a long while, watching her move back and forth. Another of his weird habits. He would go long stretches without speaking, but behind his eyes she could always see the cogs spinning.

Norah laughed in spite of herself, she felt deranged, “You were right. You said if I ignored my power it would catch up with me”, Norah ran her hands through her hair as she tried to regain a level-head. A horrible realization dawned on her, “I can't get away from it. I thought if I just kept moving forward, kept my head down, did normal things–”

“But you're not normal!”

Insulted, Norah glared at Braran, “Don't you think I know that! Can't you see the gigantic neon sign hanging over my head screaming it? You weren’t the one just washing another person’s blood off your hands”.

Braran’s expression darkened, “I’ve spilled more than enough blood in my time, trust me”. Norah stepped back from him, unwilling to meet his eyes. Braran took a breathe and softened his tone, “Is it so bad to be special?”

Norah batted his words from the air and kicked a bag across her room, “I don't want to be special! I just want my life back. I'm so tired of feeling out of control. Of pushing everyone away just so I don't rip their throats out”.

Braran seemed irritated, but he kept his voice even, “As I’ve told you, if you just embraced your power… learned to harness it then you wouldn’t feel so controlled by it”.

“Sure, what’s a few dead bodies in the wake of my greatness?”

Braran looked exasperated by her, “Who says anyone has to die?”

“Look at the facts! Any time I’ve come even close to embracing these amazing powers of mine, people have died! I am two for two on that outcome”, she yelled, slamming her hands over her mouth in sudden panic.

They both stood in silence, waiting for Mary to come charging up the stairs, but fortunately they remained alone. Norah sat on her bed and curled her legs up to her body. Resting her head between he knees, she let out a long groan before laying down on the bed. Though she didn’t feel a disturbance, when she looked up Braran was sat on the corner of her bed with his back to her. Even hunched over, he had such broad shoulders, which rippled as he moved.

Braran too had his head resting in his hands, “You can’t keep hiding from yourself, Norah. This is your destiny”.

Norah bolted upright, rolling her eyes, “Why do you keep saying that? What destiny?” At this, Braran got up and began pacing, all the movement was starting to make Norah nauseous, “Would you stand still?”

Pointedly, Braran stopped and stared at her, “Look, you can’t see it yet, but you have a purpose Norah, you wouldn't have this power if you didn’t”.

“What? To bring death and destruction to everyone I've ever loved?” frustrated, Norah pressed a pillow onto her face to deaden her screams as fell back onto her bed, “I hate my life!”

“You know what, Norah. Just because something appears evil, it doesn’t necessarily mean it is”, Braran looked like he took that personally, he was wearing a scowl that made his cheekbones distractingly apparent, “You don’t know. Maybe these powers are supposed to help people?”

Norah threw her pillow across the room, “There’s no way that’s true”.

“Hate to be that guy, but you don’t know that. Even bad things can be good in small doses, look at radiation”.

Norah couldn’t help but laugh, “You sound like an after school special. Why are you so pressed about whether I use my powers or not”, her face became stern, “What do you get out of it?”

Braran looked sheepish for a moment, before his brooding expression returned, “I’m just a messenger, kid”.

Norah kicked the air and flopped back down on her bed, she was like a kid having a tantrum. Braran perched on the edge of the bed again, he reached out as if to touch her, only to stop himself.

“I can’t tell you what’s going to happen”, he studied at his hands solemnly, “whether you accept your powers or not, there is something attacking this town and you actually have the power to stop it”. He looked at her sadly, “Surely that has to mean something. You can't keep turning your back on that”.

Norah sat up, any sense of levity having left her, “I have to”, she said, “I can't give in to it, not even for one second”.

Braran shot up off the bed carried on his frustration, “Why. Not!”

Norah stared directly into his eyes, unwavering in her conviction, “Because it's evil”. Norah went over to the mirror to study herself, “This power inside of me. It wants to burn everything it touches. That's why I can never, ever stop trying to fight it”.

When Norah looked back at Braran he had a dark expression. Without another word, he shimmered away.