Chapter 12: Gran

Jack’s grip tightened on my hair, the sharp pressure like hundreds of pins stabbing into my scalp forced my head to tilt back as a gasp escaped from between my still parted lips.

The acrid scent of burning flesh reached my nose before I realized his other hand no longer caressed my arm. Something sharp, burning so hot it felt like ice, dug into the soft skin of my exposed throat.

Silver.

My eyes widened as I looked into Jack’s, searching for an explanation. He grinned down at me. Something feral that didn’t reach his eyes– no sign of his single dimple.

“Hello, gran,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. The shuffling sound came closer and I pulled my gaze away to look over Jack’s shoulder.

His large frame blocked everything except that cold smirk, but a rasping voice came from behind him. “Jackie boy, I told you to be careful with that thing.” The last word came out dripping with disgust.

“She’s under control. Always has been.” My eyes snapped back to his just in time to see him wink. He winked. Is this a game? My eyes searched his, but there were no answers in his shadowed gaze.

“Do you have the garlic?” Jack asked, his head turning to speak over his shoulder to the mysterious interloper.

A gnarled hand, papery skin stretched over misshapen bones, appeared behind Jack’s shoulder. It clutched a garland of garlic blossoms. The sharp stench hit my nostrils the second before Jack’s grip on my hair jerked my head forward and then slammed it against the stone wall.

***

The sound of clinking metal pulled me back into consciousness. I kept my eyes closed as my muddled mind waded through the fog, skull pounding to the rhythm of my heart. I was sitting, my head held upright by something digging into my forehead.

The smell of garlic blossoms filled my nostrils, and my last memories came rushing back to me.

Jack. He’d done this. And who was the woman? Jack seemed to know her. He’d called her gran.

“She’s awake,” the woman’s voice sounded a few feet away, interrupting my thoughts.

I dragged my eyes open and found Jack standing next to a woman, her face lined with ridges too deep and plentiful for a single mortal life. She stood hunched over a wooden crane, almost as gnarled as her bony fingers. But the glint in her bright green eyes spoke of a knowledge and clarity that belied her age.

***

JUST KIDDING!

I wrote this to get out of a writing slump when I was feeling uninspired by my story. But it kind of makes me want to redo the whole book to make Jack evil. Should I??

New chapter still isn’t done, sorry ;)