The Crescent Stone Read online

  “Honk, Honk!” A horn blared from the little blue Jetta pulling around the drive.

  “Come on girly, hop in.” Kim hollered out the passenger window from the driver’s seat.

  Taylor pulled the handle, opened the door, and jumped into the car. She tossed her backpack over her side and into the back seat, then pulled her seatbelt on and relaxed into the seat. Kim pulled out of the school’s driveway and waited behind the school bus, which had all the basketball players, and waited until it left following the entire two hours. Taylor felt a little awkward in the car with Kim; she had only just met her, but Kim didn’t seem to mind and so Taylor slowly relaxed.

  “I have to ask, which I’m sure you get this all the time, was all that stuff on the news real.” Kim said, interrupting the silence.

  Taylor hated the question, what was she supposed to say? As she found out the day before, people just generally thought of her as some possessed demon child. Would some stranger really care if she told the truth or not, or would she come up with her own hateful conclusion without any concern for who Taylor was?

  “What do you want me to tell you? Yes, I can heal myself or no, the news station was just looking for a cheap story?” Taylor mumbled under her breath.

  “Well, I’m just saying that if you can heal, or you know . . . Your blood has healing powers in it, that’s really kind of a miracle. Don’t you think?” Kim responded. She glanced at Taylor briefly and then back to the road then continued talking. “It’s just that there are people, you know, that are sick with cancer and treatment doesn’t work for them, but what if doctors could cultivate the healing components in your blood and then they could get better.” She hesitated for a moment then finished with, “I just think it would be really cool that’s all.”

  Taylor was staring at Kim while she was driving. Tears had formed in her eyes, but she was holding them back. Taylor could tell that someone really close to Kim was sick. If she could do anything to help, she would try, but she had a feeling that there wasn’t anything special about her blood.

  The car fell silent until they arrived at the competition’s school. Neither one of them had the nerve to change the discussion to something else, but neither of them wanted to continue talking about it either.

  The school was about two hours northwest of theirs and the sun had already begun to set. It was almost wintertime in Maine and the days didn’t last very long. They could tell that school had dismissed for the day because there were only a few kids around the building and almost all the lights inside were off, except for the gym. The bus began to unload in front of them and the boys began shuffling past each other into the gym entrance.

  Taylor recognized a couple of the guys that got off the bus and the coach.

  “Oh crap,” she mumbled.

  “What’s wrong?” Kim asked.

  “Nothing, just those boys,” she said, as she sank back into the car seat, hiding from view.

  “Oh don’t worry about them, they’ll be busy tonight. Coach keeps them on a short leash.” Kim reassured Taylor.

  “So where’s Derek?” Taylor asked, browsing the parking lot.

  “Probably inside, like everyone else. Come on.” Kim hopped out of the car and skipped over to Taylor’s side, waiting for her.

  They walked inside together, found a couple of seats behind their team, and watched as the boys ran layups and suicides across the gym for warm-ups. A couple of the boys stopped, glared at Taylor, and whispered among themselves, but were shortly broken up once the coach noticed.

  The game started and not six minutes into it did Taylor notice Derek’s lack of presence.

  “Man, I hope Derek is okay. I really figured he’d be here by now.” Taylor casually remarked.

  “You’ve got a thing for him, don’t you?” Kim teased, checking out one of the basketball players intently. “That’s Tim Ambler; he’s a hotty, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah, for sure . . . if you like the pale skinned, buzz cut, military looking type.” She added. “He’s a good basketball player, I’ll give him that. It’s too bad the team isn’t winning.” Taylor pointed out the scoreboard with the home team up 42 to 36.

  “Yeah, he’s so dreamy. . .” Kim trailed off, gazing at Tim running up the court.

  The end of the second quarter buzzer rang and the boys all filed into the locker rooms for half time. Kim bounced up out of her chair.

  “I’m going to get some comments from the spectators, see what people have to say. You can join me or not. I really don’t care. It’s up to you.”

  “I’ll wait here, you know, keep an eye out for Derek, in case he shows up.”

  “Alright, see you in a bit.” Kim headed up the bleachers back to some older man sitting at the top. She appeared to be asking some questions and then jotting notes down in her little notepad.

  Taylor watched some kids play around on the court while the boys were having heir half time pep talks. Eventually they all began trickling out of the locker rooms. One in general caught her attention. He was standing at the door, talking to the coach. They both glanced at her and then continued talking. It was clear that they were talking about her. No doubt, wondering what she was doing at the game, or planning another mean prank like in P.E. the day before.

  Taylor became rather agitated. The coach should have better things to do than join in with the immature harassment of an innocent high school kid. He was acting just as bad as the students and not only that but they look up to him as a role model and he should be setting a better example.

  Finally, the second half of the game began and Taylor tried to ignore the random glares that she received throughout the remainder of the game. Sadly, their team lost the game. It was a fairly bad loss too. 75 to 58 left the coach irate and ready to punch somebody. After harshly yelling at several of the boys, he disappeared into the locker room and the remainder of the team followed.

  “Meet you at the car, okay.” Taylor commented to Kim. She decided that it was a good time to duck out of the game and meet her at the car. Better to miss the crowd than get caught up in all of the bitter commotion.

  Kim disappeared around a corner looking for more spectator comments, and Taylor left the gym. It was very dark and oddly quiet. The only thing Taylor heard was a couple of low voices chuckling in agreement off where a group of figures stood. As soon as she was away from the school building and out into the dark parking lot the group began to follow behind her. The car was further to the side of the building and a ways behind the bus, she wasn’t sure if she would make it to the car before the group made it to her. She picked up her pace, heading for the driver’s side of the car. As she began fumbling for the keys someone came up beside her and knocked her to the ground.

  She gasped to catch her breath as she was trying to sit up and make out the figure, but then another one kicked her in the ribs and knocked her back to the ground.

  “Stupid cow, you should have stayed home where you’re Momma and Daddy could save you. . . Oh wait you don’t have a Mom or a Dad. Oops, my bad,” One of the boys mocked.

  “Good one,” someone added.

  “Where’s Derek, isn’t he going to stand in and tell us off? Oh, I bet he’s just as freaked out by you as the rest of us, or did you eat him, Devil worshiper.” Another mocked, before jarring Taylor in the ribs again.

  “Stop, please, I never did anything wrong. . .” Taylor stammered, trying to breathe through the sharp pains in her chest.

  “Pick her up,” a low, angry, and very familiar voice boomed. It was the coach. Two guys grabbed Taylor’s arms and dragged her up into a standing position, holding her tightly.

  The coach grabbed her belt and started pulling it out.

  “Try and screw my guys up. I’ll show you. What right do you have coming out to my game and using some sick witch voodoo magic crap on our game?” He continued undoing her pants.

  “YOUR’RE SICK!” She screamed and then slammed him in the groin with her knee. He fell back momentarily, th
e guys still holding her firmly, and then sneered at her and socked her in the stomach, causing her to gasp for air some more.

  While she was wrenching in pain, she could feel her blood begin to boil. Not in the sense that she was getting mad, because she was already furious, but in the sense that it was getting hotter. She could feel her veins racing, and her heart pounding at an intense speed. Any doctor listening to her pulse would have said that she was about to seize, but no, it just got faster, and her muscles began to expand.

  “What the heck?” One of the guys holding her arms let go and stepped back, as her flesh became black and leathery and her face began to transform into a gargoyle’s.

  “Oh my god, she’s the Devil.” The coach yelled. “Stop her, before she destroys us all.” He kicked out her legs, and she fell to the ground.

  She was still changing as a barrage of kicks began digging into her chest and back and face. The putrid smell of blood and sweat mixed together and swirled into Taylor’s nostrils as she was finishing the transformation. The blood must have been hers, but the nasty sweat and fear that she could smell in the air, was most definitely the coach’s and his gang.

  “Get the bat,” she heard someone yell.

  When she looked up, from the pause in the beating, the coach caught the bat midair and swung hard and fast right at her face. But he was not fast enough. Taylor’s new agility and powerful hand caught the bat mid swing. She stood up now eye to eye with the coach, and challenged him.

  “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” She hissed, crunching the bat like a cornflake, feeling very confident that she was in a position to teach the coach a lesson or two.

  “Alright I will,” the coach replied. “Tim, you get her.” He harked, backing away from Taylor like a coward.

  “Na uh, I’m not going to be a part of this.” He shook his head and stepped away from the group of guys, backing against a tree.

  “Fine coward! Jonathan, you deal with this abomination.” He yelled at another kid.

  “Be glad to, Coach,” the kid sneered, giving Tim a look of satisfaction. He pulled out a knife and popped the blade open. “Let’s teach you a little lesson, witch.”

  He came up from behind, thrusting the knife towards her kidney, but before he even had a chance to break the tough skin, Taylor, in one fluid motion, stepped to the side, her tail slicing the air around his feet, knocking the guy to the ground, catching the knife in her hand, and tossing it at the tree.

  She turned back around, ready to face the coach again, but to her surprise he held a gun just inches from her face, leaving her stunned, but for just a brief moment.

  “Dodge this.” The coach grumbled, pulling the trigger.

  She twisted just fast enough that the bullet grazed her cheek and passed on, hitting the unsuspecting Tim, leaning against the tree.

  “Ah,” he screamed out, falling to the ground.

  “You shot Tim!” One boy freaked out, screaming at the coach.

  “What did he do?” Another cried.

  The smell of rusty iron was overwhelming. The injury had to be bad with such a strong pooling smell gushing out from him. The bullet must have hit an artery or something. She snatched the gun from the disoriented coach, crunched the gun between her hands, tossing it at his feet, and rushed over to Tim, kneeling down beside him.

  “Get away. Don’t hurt him.” Jonathan squealed at her.

  “Shut up, just give me a minute.” She shouted. “I can hear his heart stopping. I think I can do something. . . Just back off and give me some time.” She waved the guys back and then ripped open Tim’s shirt.

  “What are you doing?” A different guy hissed, pulling her hand back.

  “Just back off,” she yelled at them again, pulling her hand back. She placed both her hands over the gushing wound above his heart, closed her eyes, and began to focus.

  Nothing happened at first. She could feel his life pumping away with the remainder of blood gushing from his heart. She felt the pain he was feeling, it was slipping away, almost as if he were falling asleep, only she knew better, he wouldn’t wake up if he did. She focused all of her energy into a single ball and directed it into the wound.

  Something strange began to happen. Strands of glowing vines crept from her hands, twisting and winding into his chest.

  “Stop it! You’re going to kill him.” Someone screamed at her.

  “Shh, he’s already dying, can’t you see that?” Another shouted at the other.

  Taylor ignored the screams coming from the other boys standing around the scene, and focused intently on Tim. It was as if he and she had become one. She had become a gargoyle kneeling over a boy, melded into his chest, and an intense blue glow emanated around them, making it impossible to penetrate the strange shield she had created.

  “What’s going on?” A boy asked.

  “I can’t tell. . . It looks like it’s healing.” One boy gawked. “The bullet, it, it’s coming out.” He added.

  The bullet backed out of the gushing wound in the chest and fell to the ground. The blood slowed to a trickle and then stopped all together, leaving a fleshy wound, and then that too sealed up, leaving a large rounded scar surrounded by black and blue bruises. Taylor gasped, as the intertwined mess, weaved into his chest, retreated back, and the blue glow died down leaving Taylor slumped over, gasping for breath, beside Tim, who had begun gasping as well.

  He sat up, looked at Taylor, and before he could say anything, police sirens blared around the corner, catching everyone off guard.

  “Get out of here, before anyone else sees you.” Tim said, pushing Taylor up.

  She scrambled to her feet still breathless, and hurried off behind the school, after scanning the lot for an escape route. The coach was nowhere to be found. He was probably the one that alerted the police. The boys stayed behind, helping Tim up, with hesitation, unsure of what to think about what just happened.

  Once she was hidden from sight, she circled around the school and found an easy climbing route to the roof. She wasn’t ready to leave the scene yet. She wanted to know what happened.

  She pulled herself onto a dumpster, leaped to the escape ladder beside it, and climbed up the side of the brick school. She shuffled onto the roof and stayed hidden, behind air vents until she was close enough to the front of the building to see what was going on.

  The police were taking statements from each of the boys, no doubt spilling their guts about her, but then they amazed her when the coach was placed in handcuffs and tossed into the back of one of the police cars. The local news channel had arrived at the scene, just in time to catch the coach shouting profanities while being pushed into the back of the cab. Taylor recognized the reporter; it was one of the same women that were at her house the other day. After becoming comfortable with the conclusion of the scene, Taylor decided to high tail it out of there and find a way back home.

  Staying out of sight, she sprinted toward the back of the building just long enough to get some speed, and then lunged into the air, gliding discreetly in the direction of the highway. She wasn’t familiar enough with the area to find her way back freely, so she stayed as close to the highway as possible without being seen.

  “This isn’t a dream, I guess.” She mumbled, speaking to herself as she often did. “Now what am I going to do? There’s no way this is going to stay a secret with all those guys knowing.”

  Scanning the treetops for life and keeping a decent proximity from any houses she continued following the highway until she recognized the river and then branched off, gliding down toward the riverside, hugging the bank as much as possible. It wasn’t too long before she arrived at the house, but what would she do when she got there? It wasn’t like she could just waltz in the front door, decked out as some badass looking gargoyle. She’d scare the bejesus right out of the both of them, probably causing simultaneous heart attacks, and that would be terrible. She had to be discreet, but she hadn’t a clue what to do. With the house in view and no
idea of what she would do, Taylor soared over the rooftop and landed, delicately above her room, sitting patiently over her window.

  She peered out, over the river, watching the bats nip flies off of the surface of the water. She couldn’t go inside now, not while she could still hear her grandparents moving around downstairs. It sounded like they were watching the news. The news that she would have to explain later, once they found out it was about the game she was at. She waited until the movement in the house died down, and she was certain that both Grandma and Grandpa had gone to sleep, then crawled down to her window and slid into her room, quietly resting on her bed.

  She wasn’t sure what to do at this point, glancing down at her long tail falling over the side of the bed. After staring at the ceiling for a long time, she decided that if she wasn’t normal by morning than she would leave. She’d sneak out and leave a note for them to find. Make it say something about how she hated it here, and that she could never be happy with people she didn’t know. Something that would keep them from looking for her, which was the best, she could come up with. Content on her plan, Taylor drifted off into a deep sleep, where only a bright light, much like a supernova echoed repeatedly through her thoughts, until one abruptly woke her up.

  Alarmed, she jumped out of bed, ran over to her mirror, and sighed, pulling at the sides of her fleshy human cheeks.

  “Sweet, I don’t have to run away.” She groaned, pulling her alarm clock out, gazing at the time. “4:30, yikes,” she rubbed her eyes and slumped back down into bed, pulling her sheets over her head and zonked out.

  Chapter X: Burning

  “Taylor, wake up. You’re gonna be late for school.” Her grandma said, nudging her shoulder.

  Taylor looked up at Grandma, down at her hands, still half dazed from the night, and sighed, plopping her head back under the pillow.

  “Sorry, I got back so late from the game last night that I didn’t want to wake anyone. I just came up here and passed out on the bed.” Taylor mumbled, beating Grandma to the question before it was asked.