Fluffy Cookies
Angelic Demon
Fox. Fox Lucien. Emma knew that name at some point in her life, but she can’t remember when. She sits against the rolling door of the train car, looking out at the sunrise in the East. The snow was still falling and there was a break in the clouds over the coast in the distance. Christmas day.
Mrs. Compton would be waking up just about now to start the dinner that takes all day to make. On a normal Christmas, Emma and Andrew would be up already, finishing the final touches on each other’s presents. However, this isn’t a normal Christmas, and Andrew’s mom would wake up and find them gone. She’ll be worried sick.
Emma thought of her parents, the Rockefellers. Her father died in an oil plant fire, and her mother died in a car crash a few days later. All this happened about four years ago. She remembered how Christmases were with them: Warm fire, delicious food, and smiling faces. What if they never made it back? What if Fox managed to kill all three of them? Emma let a few tears slide down her cheeks.
“No need to worry, we left that hombre back in New York,” Benjamin says to her. Emma became confused. She hadn’t said anything out loud. “I read minds, amiga, as well as shapeshift… I’m sorry about your parents.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she tells him, “you didn’t kill them.” She doesn’t meet his gaze.
“I know, I just wanted to extend my condolences,” he replies.
“Thanks,” she whispers in response. Ben winces as he scoots and shifts around to be sitting next to Emma. “You shouldn’t be moving.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says, “look at me, por favor, I want to try something.” Emma wipes her tears away and turns to face him. What could it possibly be? Benjamin gives her a half smile. “Let me show you.” With that, he places his left hand on her cheek. His eyes glow red and Emma’s do the same. Instantly, she was thrown back into the depths of her memories, a place she doesn’t remember, and her stare became blank.
The sun shone through the trees like it does in the summer. The grass was greener than the stuff in New York and the sky was more blue. A little girl of about three, and looking a lot like Emma, chases her older brothers: Fox, George, and Tom.
“Folix!” she calls for her eldest brother.
“Emmy, it’s ‘Fox’, not ‘Folix’!” the boy tells her, taking her hands. “Say ‘Fox’.” The little girl pauses, smiling mischievously.
“Folix!” She exclaims again. The two laugh.
Emma herself began to tear up once again, and she was brought back into the present. The red glow of their eyes fades quickly. With his thumb, Ben wipes a tear rolling down his friend’s cheek.
“Are you alright there, hermosa?” He asks her.
“No sé,” was all she responded before another gunshot rang out. It had only been a couple of hours since they’ve heard one and the trio left Fox back in New York. Or so they thought. Their eyes move to the other side of the train car and the open door. Andrew was being held in a choke-hold, pistol to his temple. “Andrew!” Emma scrambles up.
“You two take one more step and he bites the dust,” Fox Lucien threatens. Emma shifts her weight between both of her feet. She has no idea what to do in a hostage situation. “Paranormals took EVERYTHING from me!” He growls. “Now I’m gonna pick them off one by one until there are none left.” Suddenly, Emma’s eyes glow red and she was thrown into her past once again.
People in black cloaks, under the dark cover of night, were grabbing the little girls' brothers and tying them up. She screamed as they mutilated them in front of her. Her father was busy fighting with one of them and her pregnant mother was trying to hide Fox. Soon everything goes dark.
“Folix!” She cried out.
Emma was brought back to the train car. The name echoed loudly in her mind. In reality it was only a second, but it felt like minutes to Emma. She glances down and finds Ben’s hand around her ankle.
“She was there,” Benjamin mentions, “screaming for you as your brothers were being skinned and gutted. You remember it clear as day. Why can’t you just believe it, cabron? Believe that she is your sister?” Fox swallows hard. The words hit him like a hammer to the gut. His grip on Andrew loosened just enough for him to get away. The older boy stumbled backward as the Satyr pushed him away. He stumbled a little too far and began to fall out of the train car.
“Fox!” Emma cries out, lunging forward. Andrew grabbed for her with his good arm, but his friend dodged it.
“No, Emma, don’t!” He calls after her. He didn’t want her to get hurt. Emma’s quick reflexes catch Fox’s collar. Her free hand just barely grips the handle on the door, but the momentum of both of their bodies broke it.
It felt like everything was going in slow motion when they tumbled into the underbrush and barren lands. Emma could hear her friends calling her name as she hit the ground hard. As she faced the train with every turn, she noticed both of them jumping out as well. Everytime she bounced, it hurt like nothing she’s ever felt before.
When they stopped, all she could do was stare up at the falling snowflakes. Emma could barely move, let alone breathe. It hurt too much to start crying, and it was so cold she could feel her legs turning blue. Fox stands over her, extending a hand down.
“Come on,” he says, “your friends jumped from the train. Those gunshot wounds may kill them if they don’t get treated soon.” Emma hesitates, looking at him. Fox remembers her eyes. He remembers how blue they were. He couldn’t believe she was right in front of him. He couldn’t believe he thought she was dead all the same.
Mrs. Compton would be waking up just about now to start the dinner that takes all day to make. On a normal Christmas, Emma and Andrew would be up already, finishing the final touches on each other’s presents. However, this isn’t a normal Christmas, and Andrew’s mom would wake up and find them gone. She’ll be worried sick.
Emma thought of her parents, the Rockefellers. Her father died in an oil plant fire, and her mother died in a car crash a few days later. All this happened about four years ago. She remembered how Christmases were with them: Warm fire, delicious food, and smiling faces. What if they never made it back? What if Fox managed to kill all three of them? Emma let a few tears slide down her cheeks.
“No need to worry, we left that hombre back in New York,” Benjamin says to her. Emma became confused. She hadn’t said anything out loud. “I read minds, amiga, as well as shapeshift… I’m sorry about your parents.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she tells him, “you didn’t kill them.” She doesn’t meet his gaze.
“I know, I just wanted to extend my condolences,” he replies.
“Thanks,” she whispers in response. Ben winces as he scoots and shifts around to be sitting next to Emma. “You shouldn’t be moving.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says, “look at me, por favor, I want to try something.” Emma wipes her tears away and turns to face him. What could it possibly be? Benjamin gives her a half smile. “Let me show you.” With that, he places his left hand on her cheek. His eyes glow red and Emma’s do the same. Instantly, she was thrown back into the depths of her memories, a place she doesn’t remember, and her stare became blank.
The sun shone through the trees like it does in the summer. The grass was greener than the stuff in New York and the sky was more blue. A little girl of about three, and looking a lot like Emma, chases her older brothers: Fox, George, and Tom.
“Folix!” she calls for her eldest brother.
“Emmy, it’s ‘Fox’, not ‘Folix’!” the boy tells her, taking her hands. “Say ‘Fox’.” The little girl pauses, smiling mischievously.
“Folix!” She exclaims again. The two laugh.
Emma herself began to tear up once again, and she was brought back into the present. The red glow of their eyes fades quickly. With his thumb, Ben wipes a tear rolling down his friend’s cheek.
“Are you alright there, hermosa?” He asks her.
“No sé,” was all she responded before another gunshot rang out. It had only been a couple of hours since they’ve heard one and the trio left Fox back in New York. Or so they thought. Their eyes move to the other side of the train car and the open door. Andrew was being held in a choke-hold, pistol to his temple. “Andrew!” Emma scrambles up.
“You two take one more step and he bites the dust,” Fox Lucien threatens. Emma shifts her weight between both of her feet. She has no idea what to do in a hostage situation. “Paranormals took EVERYTHING from me!” He growls. “Now I’m gonna pick them off one by one until there are none left.” Suddenly, Emma’s eyes glow red and she was thrown into her past once again.
People in black cloaks, under the dark cover of night, were grabbing the little girls' brothers and tying them up. She screamed as they mutilated them in front of her. Her father was busy fighting with one of them and her pregnant mother was trying to hide Fox. Soon everything goes dark.
“Folix!” She cried out.
Emma was brought back to the train car. The name echoed loudly in her mind. In reality it was only a second, but it felt like minutes to Emma. She glances down and finds Ben’s hand around her ankle.
“She was there,” Benjamin mentions, “screaming for you as your brothers were being skinned and gutted. You remember it clear as day. Why can’t you just believe it, cabron? Believe that she is your sister?” Fox swallows hard. The words hit him like a hammer to the gut. His grip on Andrew loosened just enough for him to get away. The older boy stumbled backward as the Satyr pushed him away. He stumbled a little too far and began to fall out of the train car.
“Fox!” Emma cries out, lunging forward. Andrew grabbed for her with his good arm, but his friend dodged it.
“No, Emma, don’t!” He calls after her. He didn’t want her to get hurt. Emma’s quick reflexes catch Fox’s collar. Her free hand just barely grips the handle on the door, but the momentum of both of their bodies broke it.
It felt like everything was going in slow motion when they tumbled into the underbrush and barren lands. Emma could hear her friends calling her name as she hit the ground hard. As she faced the train with every turn, she noticed both of them jumping out as well. Everytime she bounced, it hurt like nothing she’s ever felt before.
When they stopped, all she could do was stare up at the falling snowflakes. Emma could barely move, let alone breathe. It hurt too much to start crying, and it was so cold she could feel her legs turning blue. Fox stands over her, extending a hand down.
“Come on,” he says, “your friends jumped from the train. Those gunshot wounds may kill them if they don’t get treated soon.” Emma hesitates, looking at him. Fox remembers her eyes. He remembers how blue they were. He couldn’t believe she was right in front of him. He couldn’t believe he thought she was dead all the same.
