13 – Scars That Speak

Scars That Speak

The fog clung to Liam's house like a second skin, dawn's weak light barely cutting through. Inside, the living room was a war zone—furniture shoved against doors, windows boarded with planks from the garage, the air thick with dust and blood. Liam sat on the couch, bat across his knees, his leg bandaged tighter now, pain a dull throb. The claw wound seeped, but he ignored it, staring at Carter's badge—Eclipse Protocol—its edges digging into his palm. His mom slept upstairs, medicated, her confession a weight he couldn't shake.

Maya hunched over the coffee table, sketchbook open, redrawing the lab's runes by lamplight, her hand crusted with dried blood. Sofia curled in an armchair, wrench beside her, whispering prayers over Luna's whimpers—the dog, patched up, lay at her feet. Ethan leaned against the wall, crowbar dented, his shoulder wrapped in a torn shirt, blood seeping through. Noah sat cross-legged on the floor, journal scraps spread out, glasses cracked but steady, piecing Elias's madness.

The manor's collapse echoed in their silence—a hollow victory. The Watcher's scream, the ley line's pulse, the operatives' retreat—it bought them breathing room, not safety. The lullaby hummed outside, faint but relentless, a thread in the fog.

"We hurt it," Maya said, breaking the quiet, pencil scratching. "No marks, no pain. That's progress."

"Progress?" Ethan snorted, wincing as he shifted his arm. "It's still out there, and Protocol's licking their wounds. We're targets."

"They ran," Sofia said, voice soft but fierce, stroking Luna's fur. "We scared them."

"Did we?" Noah asked, adjusting his glasses, a torn page in hand. "The journal—Elias says the Watcher's bound to the ley line's energy. We overloaded it, but it's not severed."

Liam gripped the badge tighter. "So it's pissed and waiting. Great."

"And us?" Maya asked, looking up, her sketch glowing faintly—runes reversed. "The anchors are gone, but my mom, your mom—" She nodded at Liam. "It's still got hooks."

His jaw clenched, Carter's words—Died fighting it—clashing with his mom's—I ran. "She's out of it now. Sedated. Can't hurt us."

"Doesn't mean she's safe," Ethan said, eyes hard. "Or us, with her here."

"Watch it," Liam warned, standing, pain shooting through his leg. "She's not the enemy."

"She lied," Ethan shot back, stepping closer, crowbar tapping his palm. "How many more secrets she got?"

Sofia stood, wrench up. "Back off, Ethan. We're not doing this again."

"We should," he said, voice rising. "She's why we're marked—her and his dad!"

"Enough!" Maya slammed her sketchbook down, the lamp flickering. "We're alive because we stuck together. Stop tearing us apart."

A thud hit the roof—soft, deliberate. Luna growled, hackles up, as the lullaby swelled, voices weaving in—Carter's, their dead. The group grabbed weapons, hearts pounding, eyes darting to the ceiling. Footsteps creaked—slow, uneven—not operatives, not human.

"It's back," Liam hissed, bat raised, badge pocketed. "Upstairs—check her."

They bolted, stairs groaning, Luna barking behind. Liam burst into his mom's room—she lay still, sheets tangled, but her eyes glowed, sigil faint on her forehead. "No…" she moaned, voice hers, then not: "You're mine…"

"Mom!" Liam shook her, but she convulsed, the glow pulsing. The window shattered—glass raining, fog pouring in—as a creature climbed through: spider-like, her face—his mom's—twisted, claws gleaming.

Sofia swung her wrench, cracking its skull, ichor spraying. It shrieked, dissolving into shadow, but the real mom gasped, eyes clearing. "Liam… it's still—"

The roof groaned, claws raking shingles. More skittered outside—faces theirs, leering. Liam dragged her up, voice hard. "Downstairs—now!"

They stumbled back, barricading the bedroom door as thuds hit—ceiling, walls, windows. The house shook, boards splintering, the lullaby a roar. Ethan braced the front door, crowbar wedged, while Sofia guarded the back, wrench ready. Maya sketched runes on the floor, blood dripping anew, Noah chanting beside her—"Break the thread…"

"It's her!" Ethan yelled, nodding at Liam's mom, trembling in the corner. "It's locked on her!"

"She's not marked!" Liam shouted, bat up, as a claw pierced the door, wood cracking. "We are!"

"Not anymore," Noah said, pale, journal shaking. "She's the vessel—'98, it chose her. We just woke it."

Her eyes widened, terror breaking through. "I didn't know… I swear…"

A window burst—creature lunging, Maya's aunt's face. Liam bashed it, ichor soaking him, while Sofia's wrench thudded another. Ethan's crowbar smashed a third, but the house buckled—roof caving, beams snapping. Dust choked them, Luna barking, as the lullaby screamed.

"Out!" Liam roared, grabbing his mom. They dove through the back, fog swallowing, the house collapsing behind—a tomb of wood and shadow. Creatures swarmed, claws slashing, but Maya's runes flared on the ground, a pulse of light scattering them, shrieking.

They ran, woods a blur, fog thick, the pack thinning but stalking. Liam's leg screamed, his mom's weight dragging, her sobs raw. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

The town's edge loomed—streetlights flickering, a gas station glowing. They collapsed behind pumps, panting, Raven Hollow's silence eerie post-chaos. The lullaby faded, creatures gone—for now.

"She's the key," Noah said, glasses cracked, journal clutched. "It's using her guilt."

"Then we fix it," Liam said, voice breaking, holding her close. "No more running."

Ethan wiped blood from his face, grim. "Fix how? She's a beacon."

"We trap it," Maya said, sketchbook trembling, runes glowing. "Her blood, new circle—reverse Elias's ritual."

Sofia nodded, fierce despite tears. "We end this—for Luna, for all of them."

Liam's mom looked up, shattered. "Do it. Whatever it takes."

Headlights flared—distant, closing. Radios crackled in the fog: "Subjects located…" Protocol, relentless.

"Time's up," Liam said, standing, bat steady. "Gas station—hold them off. Maya, Noah—start it."

The fight wasn't over—just beginning.

That night, they rigged the station—pumps as bombs, shelves as shields. Liam's mom sat, pale, offering her arm as Maya cut, blood dripping onto a rune circle. Noah chanted, Sofia prayed, Ethan scowled, watching headlights near.

The lullaby hummed, fog pressing, a shadow flickering—a promise of war….