Bryony

Bryony giggled and took Lucas's hands in her own. He stared at her lovingly, taking in her beauty. He adored her ever-changing eyes and entertained himself by looking to see what colors they were. He also loved that she couldn't hide anything from him-- her eyes only changed color if her mood did.

"What color are they now?" she asked. Lucas smiled brightly at her.

"Your happy color," he said with a smile, "light brown."

Bryony grinned and kissed his lips gently.

"Lucas, tonight has been so wonderful," Bryony whispered.

"Well, I had to make my love's birthday perfect, didn't I?"

Bryony smiled and kissed the bare, tan skin of his neck. He arched it, allowing her more room to keep kissing as she ran her hand through his deep brown hair. She pulled away and he grinned at her.

"I love it when you do that," he told her.

"I know," Bryony stated happily.

"We should-" Lucas began, but was cut off my the obnoxious buzzing of Bryony's phone.

"Damn," she said, looking at the screen, "it's my dad. He probably wants me home."

"You need to move out of there already," Lucas whined, "you're nineteen now."

"Yeah, and where am I going to go?"

"You can move in with me."

Bryony rolled her eyes and muttered, "Would you stop with that already!"

"No," Lucas retorted, "we've been together for five years now. Anyway you need to get away from them. It just makes sense, Bryony."

Bryony responded quietly, but firmly, "I don't want to talk about this right now. I have to go home."

"Then go," Lucas replied, getting up and walking the opposite direction of her house.

"Aren't you going to walk me there? It's dark..."

"You're a big girl, or have you forgotten? You can cross the street by yourself, and you can move away from Mommy and Daddy." With that, Lucas stormed away. Bryony's eyes threatened to leak the tears that had been welling up while he had been yelling.

She turned towards her house, just down the pathway and across the street from where she was standing in the park, and began to walk. Maybe she should just give in and move in with him. It would make things easier since her parents didn't quite approve of her dating someone three years older than her.

Suddenly something hit her shoulder-- hard-- interrupting her from her thoughts. She wheeled and saw somethng flying in the air-- a bird? Bryony tried to get a closer look as another one hit the back of her head and bit down on her scalp. She reached back and touched where it bit her. It was wet and warm. Panicked, she looked at her hand, unsurprised to find blood on her fingers. Then another flew at her shoulder, and another, then five more, ten more. Bryony gasped and flung her hand at them, trying to get them off of her-- whatever they were-- as more came biting and scratching at her body. She couldn't get them all; for every one she smacked away, two more came at her. It felt like she was being stabbed repetitively, every moment a new place on her body began to ache from the new gash. Her blood was boiling at a temperature too hot for her to stand.

Bryony let out a shrill scream.

+++

Lucas was fuming with rage as he walked away from Bryony. Why couldn't she just grow up already? It was time for them to take their relationship to the next level. At least he thought it was. Even if she didn't, it was at least time for her to take her life to the next level and escape the clutches of Daddy's talons. Her parents were still trying to control her and she would just let them. He couldn't understand why.

He stopped walking, feeling guilty for leaving her there. He smacked his palm against his forehead. He should have kept his mouth shut. After all it was her birthday. He should have at least walked her home-- he knew she didn't like walking alone at night-- instead of getting angry all over again like he had hundreds of times before. He glanced down the park path, debating whether or not to run back and apologize.

And then he heard her scream.

"Bryony!" Lucas sprinted back to her as fast as he could manage. Bats were flying around her, attacking her. He tried to help her shoo them away-- he even managed to catch a few and throw them despite the damage they were doing to his fingers to try to free themselves-- but it wasn't enough. They began to attack him too, nipping away at him. He screamed from the fire of his wounds, but he was too concerned about Bryony to feel most of it. Bryony was never much for pain. They were both bleeding badly, but he couldn't help her. There were just too many bats.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bryony collapse to the ground.

"No," he growled, "Bryony!"

His body hurt everywhere. He was aching and tired from all his failed attempts of saving Bryony and himself. There were too many bats, too many wounds, too much blood. His vision was dimming, his ears began to ring, his head felt light. He, too, fell to the ground.

He stared at his dying girlfriend, trying his hardest to mutter the words "I'm sorry".