The Last Swordmaster

Into The Darkest Hour

(Edited)

I sat up in bed, eyes wide, ready to face what was coming. I heard the blaring noise in my ears, and I was prepared to take someone down. It took me a few moments to come to my senses, but once I did, I shook my head at myself with a small laugh. I realized that it was just my alarm clock, screeching at me from my nightstand. I turned off the clock with a sigh as I sat up and grabbed the plain sweater and jeans that were laying on my chair. Sitting down in front of my vanity, I brushed my hair and looked at myself.

Same dull brown eyes. Same long blond hair. Same everything. I was me. Elaine Gray. I wasn't like my sisters, who had shining hazel eyes and bouncy, golden blond hair. I was the ugliest. To this day, after all of these years, I still believe that.

I walked into the grey-toned living room and poked my younger sister, Grace, as I walked by. She swatted my hand away and pouted, whipping her head in my direction. "Just because you're sixteen now doesn't mean that you can be a jerk."

I giggled. "I'm not being a jerk. I'm just poking you."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Potato, potahto." Her eyes got brighter, and I knew what she was going to ask. "So, are you going shopping?"

I swear, that girl had a shopping radar. She always seemed to know. "Yeah, are you coming?"

My ten-year-old sister hopped up and down and nodded. "Duh! There's no better way to spend a Sunday!"

I threw my head back and laughed. "All right, get in the car and we'll get going."

I loved doing this with Grace. It reminded me of when my older sister, Teryn, used to hang out with me a lot. Things changed a few years ago, though; she went to college, and I never really saw her anymore. Tera and I still talked a lot, but I missed hanging out with her. That's why I was happy that I could be there for Grace. I didn't want her to feel alone, so I tried to make time to do the same things every single Sunday. It could get boring, but there was something nice about the routine.

The drive to the mall took twenty minutes, and as always, Grace was eagerly waiting to get there. She talked fast, so I couldn't really understand her half of the time. She drove me nuts by fidgeting the whole time, but I had to admit that I still had fun. Her swaying to the left and right made me want to glue her to the seat. She'd probably still find a way to cause trouble, though.

We wandered around the mall for a while, weaving our way in and out of our favorite stores and keeping an eye out for sales. I got books and band merchandise, while she got new dresses and shoes. She hopped from store to store, so lively and full of energy. She seemed so at home, and, in all honesty, the mall was her second home. We spent so much time together there. It was great, while it lasted.

We were looking at books when my friend Gabriella, usually called Gabby, saw us and ran over. That girl probably could've run a marathon in heels, she did it so often. "I didn't think I'd see you two here," she said while she took deep breaths.

"We're just hanging out," I replied with a smile. "You should come with us. I know how much you like shoe shopping with Grace."

Gabby grinned and nodded. I spent the rest of the day with her and Grace, carelessly trying on the tallest, most obnoxious heels, not knowing what was in our near future. 

*****

I woke up that night to the sound of Grace screaming, then a disturbing splat made its way to my ears. I blinked in surprise, wondering if it was a dream. Hesitantly, I sat up and ripped the covers off of my legs. "Grace?" I yelled out. My voice sounded foreign with fear.

I waited a moment for a response. Even though I was afraid of what was waiting for me, the fear of not having Grace in my life was stronger. I was her older sister. I had to protect her. Tera would have. I grabbed a pair of scissors out of my crafting bin and tore the door to my room open, racing down the quiet hall to her room. Before I went in, I took a deep breath to steady my pounding heartbeat. I mustered every ounce of courage in my body and busted into the room, scissors raised to attack.

My sister... she was lying on the ground, a wound that went through her heart gushing blood onto her lilac carpet. I gasped, tears flooding my eyes, and ran over to check for a pulse. I knew it was no use, but I couldn't even comprehend what was happening. My hands instinctively tried to cover her wound, as if I could put all of the blood back in her body and save her. I sat next to her dead body for a few moments before I stood up with shaky knees, putting my hands on the wall to steady myself. When I looked over, I saw the two, scarlet hand prints that I made on the baby blue paint. They dripped down, streaming down and catching the light of the full moon outside. Her curtains were wide open. I always told her to close those before she slept... I took one last look at my sister. Her beautiful, amber eyes were frozen in a permanent state of fear. I recomposed myself long enough to reach down, my hands trembling, and shut Grace's eyes. Her skin still felt warm under my fingers, and the hopeful side of me wanted to believe that she was still warm and alive. That she would stand up and moment now and give me that dazzling smile that people feel in love with. I tore my eyes away from her crumpled body and faced the door. I couldn't look anymore. That was the last time I ever saw my baby sister.

Gulping, I grabbed my scissors and walked into the hallway outside of Grace's room to see if anyone was still there. Tears still threatened to spill down my face, but I choked them back. I couldn't think about her dying alone, afraid. Not now. I needed to find Mom and Dad.

Although I tried being quiet, my feet, sticky with blood, stuck to every surface they touched, making a peeling sound with every step. There was nothing. No footsteps, no blood, nothing. The only audible sounds were my footsteps, racing heartbeat, and panting. I padded to my mom and dad's room and choked back another sob. They were dead, their hearts pierced, the same as Grace's. They had been dead for even longer than Grace, it seemed, still laying down as if they were asleep. Blood had already dried on their sheets. I didn't dare get closer to inspect them. The sight was too much for me to handle at the time. I turned away and vomited right there on the floor. I'd never seen more than a broken bone or minor head wound, and this... how? "It's just a dream," I whispered, falling on my knees into my own vomit. "It-It's just a bad, b-bad drea-" I couldn't even finish my sentence before I broke into hysterical tears again. 

Even though I searched the house, the only thing I could find as evidence was a broken window, shattered all over the kitchen's linoleum floor. I cut my feet as I examined the strange, black substance on the glass, but I was too dazed to notice the minor wounds. With a heavy sob, I fell to my knees and collapsed, letting the cool night air from the broken window soothe me. I cried for three minutes, but, somehow, I found the strength to get up and call the police. Nothing I said made sense, though. I was blubbering, trying to contain despair, which completely failed. When the officers finally came twenty minutes later, the only life they could find was a broken girl with crimson blood dripping off of her hands and silver tears streaming down her face.

*****

The next days were a blur. I was too shocked to comprehend anything. Every day I woke up in the jail and hoped that this whole thing was just a dream, nothing more. They kept me in the station, considering I was a potential suspect, but I hardly talked, and when I did, they were mumbles. Tera was killed in her dorm soon afterward just a few days later, in the same manner as my parents. There were so many questions for me, but I was off the suspect list when Tera died since I was nowhere near the college and they found fingerprint evidence at my house. They were on my door, right on the handle, as if he'd been ready to open it. Why didn't he?

That was the only real thought I had. Why? I knew that whoever did that targeted me. They targeted the ones I loved. There was no reason for it. Nobody hated me that much. Did I know this person? What did I ever do to them? Could I have stopped this?

I couldn't accept the fact that everyone I once loved was dead. I needed to make things right. All of my frustration filled me with only one, powerful emotion.

Rage.

I was willing to do anything to kill that man and give him what he deserved. I wouldn't give up until that man was burning in Hell, right where he belonged.