Chapter 582

The floorboards creaked beneath Fatima's bare feet as she made her way to the kitchen. It was well past midnight, and the house slept. Outside, Baghdad was quieter than usual, but the heat never truly left.

She was thirsty.

Each step was measured, cautious. The stories Nana told about the Flouevers were enough to keep her on edge. Nana always said they hated the light, that they thrived in shadows.

Fatima reached the kitchen. The moonlight spilling through the window painted everything in shades of grey. She could hear her own heart beating in her ears.

The floorboards beneath the table were especially noisy. Fatima avoided them.

"Nana says you can hear them there the most," she whispered to herself. Her breath fogged for a brief second.

The sink groaned as she turned on the faucet. Cold water splashed into her cupped hands. She drank quickly, the coolness a welcome sensation against the lingering heat.

She wiped her mouth and then the house settled into total calm, except a quick drip… drip… drip, of a faucet she didn't correctly close.

The silence felt different tonight.

Heavier.

Like something was listening.

Fatima turned around slowly. Nothing. Only the shadows cast by the moonlight, dancing like figures in the corners of the room. She shook her head. Nana's tales again.

"Silly stories," she muttered, trying to reassure herself. "There's no such thing as Flouevers."

But deep down, a tiny seed of doubt had already taken root.

She turned to leave and the floorboards protested again. The creaks were louder this time. More insistent. She quickened her steps.

Then she heard it.

A scratch.

Coming from beneath the floorboards.

Fatima froze. Her blood ran cold. The scratch came again. Then another. It sounded like tiny claws on wood.

"Hello?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

No answer. Only more scratching. And then a low, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate through the floor and into her bones.

She backed away slowly, her eyes darting around the room. The shadows seemed to deepen, to twist and writhe in the moonlight.

The scratching grew more frenzied. The floorboards began to tremble beneath her feet. Fatima wanted to scream, but no sound would come.

A floorboard near the table splintered and cracked. A dark, viscous fluid oozed from the crack.

Then something emerged.

It was small, no bigger than her hand, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen. Its skin was pale and slick, like wet clay, and its limbs were thin and spindly. Its eyes were large and black and seemed to drink in the light.

It opened its mouth and let out a high-pitched shriek.

Fatima stumbled back, knocking against the kitchen counter. Other floorboards began to crack and splinter. More of the creatures were emerging.

They scuttled across the floor, their claws clicking against the tile. Their eyes fixed on Fatima.

She finally found her voice. A choked scream tore from her throat. She ran, scrambling for the doorway.

One of the Flouevers lunged, its claws tearing at her ankle. Fatima cried out in pain and kicked it away. She reached the hallway, slamming the kitchen door behind her.

She leaned against the door, panting, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear the scratching and clawing on the other side. The door wouldn't hold for long.

"Nana!" she screamed. "Abbi! Wake up!"

No answer.

Fatima knew she was alone.

She stumbled down the hallway, towards her parents' bedroom. Maybe they would hear her. Maybe they could help.

But as she neared their room, she saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

The bedroom door was open.

And shadows were moving inside.

She crept closer, peering into the darkness. She could hear soft whimpering. It sounded like her mother.

"Abbi?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Ummi?"

The shadows moved again. And then she saw them.

The Flouevers.

They were all over her parents' bed. Their pale, slick bodies were writhing and moving.

Fatima could see a bit of her parents through the crowd. Her father was pinned, one Flouever directly over him.

His eyes looked directly to Fatima.

"Run Fatima…"

Then Fatima turned away, trying not to be sick. She heard a sound like someone biting into a fresh apple and knew what happened next.

Her mother made a gurgling sound. It suddenly stopped.

Fatima ran back down the hallway. Tears streamed down her face. She didn't know where to go. What to do.

Nana. She had to get to Nana.

Nana's room was at the back of the house. Fatima ran as fast as she could, the scratching and clawing of the Flouevers echoing behind her.

She burst into Nana's room. The old woman was sitting up in bed, her eyes wide with fright.

"Fatima? What is it?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"The Flouevers, Nana!" Fatima cried. "They're everywhere!"

Nana nodded slowly. "I knew they would come eventually," she said. "I tried to warn you all."

"What do we do?" Fatima pleaded.

Nana reached under her pillow and pulled out a small, silver dagger. "We fight," she said.

The two of them stood back-to-back in the center of the room. The scratching and clawing grew louder. The floorboards began to crack and splinter.

The Flouevers emerged.

They came from everywhere. From under the bed, from behind the closet, from inside the walls. They were like a tide of pale, slick bodies.

Nana raised her dagger. "For Baghdad!" she shouted.

And then they charged.

Fatima had never held a weapon before. But she gripped the handle of the dagger tightly. She swung wildly, desperately, trying to keep the Flouevers away.

The creatures were fast and agile. They darted in and out, their claws tearing at her skin.

Fatima screamed as one of the Flouevers bit her arm. She swung her dagger and felt it connect with something soft and wet. The creature shrieked and fell back.

Nana was moving with a speed and ferocity that Fatima had never seen before. She stabbed and slashed, her dagger a blur of silver.

But there were too many of them.

The Flouevers swarmed over them, knocking them to the ground. Fatima felt their claws tearing at her flesh. Their hot, fetid breath on her face.

She closed her eyes and waited for the end.

But then, she felt something different.

A warmth spreading through her body.

She opened her eyes and saw Nana standing over her. The old woman's body was glowing with a soft, silver light.

Nana was reciting something in Arabic, and then suddenly the air seemed to turn solid, locking up all the Flouever beings around the house, encasing them.

Fatima realized that Nana wasn't who she thought she was. Her Nana was able to control what these things can and cannot do,

Then everything seemed to die down.

Then Nana, exhausted from everything, had this to tell Fatima.

"It is my time," Nana said, her voice weak.

"No, Nana, don't say that!" Fatima cried. "We can still fight. We can still win!"

Nana smiled sadly. "There is no winning against them, Fatima," she said. "They will always be here. Waiting."

"But… what about me?" Fatima asked. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You must survive," Nana said. "You must remember. And you must protect others from the Flouevers."

Nana handed Fatima the silver dagger. "This will help you," she said. "But it will not be enough. You must be strong. You must be brave."

"I can't, Nana," Fatima said, tears streaming down her face. "I'm just a child."

"You are more than you know, Fatima," Nana said. "You have the blood of generations of warriors flowing through your veins."

Nana was struggling, and the light that was glowing through her began to turn white-hot. "The protection spell needs something… and it seems that thing is me"

Nana hugged Fatima tightly. "I love you, Fatima," she whispered.

And then she pushed her away.

The light exploded outward, engulfing the room. Fatima cried out and covered her eyes.

When she opened them again, Nana was gone.

Only dust remained.

Fatima was alone.

She stood in the middle of the ruined bedroom, clutching the silver dagger. The scratching and clawing of the Flouevers had stopped.

They were waiting.

She knew she couldn't stay here. She had to leave. She had to find somewhere safe.

But there was nowhere safe. Not anymore.

The Flouevers were everywhere.

She walked to the back door, opening it, and slipping into the Baghdad night. She began to walk towards an uncertain destiny.

But destiny had other plans for Fatima, the young girl who lost everything to creatures beneath the floorboards. It began like any other night since the death of Nana, Ummi and Abbi.

Fatima slept lightly in a building downtown where she spent the night. Most of her nights were spent walking for some reason. Tonight, however, her eyes snapped open for the first time around 1 AM, after the most recent, earth-shattering explosion.

"Not again.." Fatima groaned.

In this moment, Fatima wasn't entirely aware that during this explosion, several pieces of wood from her floor landed nearby her head.

Fatima was already asleep. It was not five seconds later that one of the cracks opened above her head from the displaced floor pieces, and a Flouever quickly jumped down to meet her. It happened in less than one blink.