Quivering and shaking as he used the record player to prop himself up, Phillips turned and ran towards the door and didn’t look back.
The Womb stared into the small kitchen. The lights were off and the lenses over his eyes inverted and expanded to take in all the light possible, allowing him to see Cathy as she pushed a chair between herself and it on her way out the other door and into the back hallway.
It growled like an engine revving, jumping onto the table and watching her run as his claws dug into its wooden surface. It jumped again, landing in the hall just behind her and slashing out with its claws, three of them catching her back and making long narrow lines there. The shallow cuts were already bleeding as she fell forward, slamming her head against an end table and knocking over the potted plant on it. Soil and mud fell into her hair as she hit the hardwood, the sky blue vase shattering right next to her. She turned to face it as it loomed over her, its face emotionless and barren.
“Please...” she begged, her hands before her in defense just as Al’s had been. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood and dirt on her cheeks. “Please, Xander... not you.”
The creature stopped in its tracks, its eyes narrowing at her.
Cathy sighed and walked over to the Womb, placing her hand on the side of its face to force it to look at her. This time it did not turn away or object in any way, her touch sending a tingle through his oily black form. She traced its large eyes with her fingertips, looking deep into them. Really looked. Past the liquid hatred that covered him, somehow cutting through it all and getting past it unscathed. She squinted and bit her lip as she found what she was looking for, smiling. “It’s really you in there, isn’t it?”
Redness poked its way along the corner of its retinas, until it twitched its head and the colour changed back to green again. It raised its arm high, extending the talons on it to their fullest.
Pulling herself to her feet once more, Cathy darted into the closest door and slammed it behind her. It was dark, but there was enough light coming in through a shaded window to tell where she was. She had come into Phillips’ bedroom. She grabbed a hamper quickly, moving it in front of the door as best she could before darting into the closet and closing the door behind her.
For a long moment there was nothing. She wondered if it had forgotten about her the second she was out of sight and had gone back to deal with the third rapist. The closet was damp and musty. It smelt of moldy laundry and a sterile smell that stung her nostrils and reminded her of hospitals.
There was a crash as the door opened, followed quickly by another as the hamper slammed against the far wall of the room.
Her lips shaking, she cast her eyes down and watched the tiny ray of light coming in from beneath the doorway. After a second, part of it turned dark with shadow as the Black Womb stepped into the room. She cupped her hand over her mouth to try and contain the whimpering sound that her mucus-ridden throat was making without her knowledge, pressing so tightly she might have cut off her own air flow.
From outside the closet, she heard it growl. There was a ripping sound, and she could almost picture it crouched down on the floor and ripping at the carpet with its claws as it surveyed the room. It seemed like it was always doing something with its hands. Just like Xander. The thought scared her even more, a shudder escaping from her despite her efforts to stop it as she peered something under a pile of bloody towels out of the corner of her eye, almost obscured by her wet lashes.
In the bedroom, the creature stopped scratching at the carpet and was immediately still and silent when it heard the shudder from somewhere in the room, followed by a sudden rush of air. Its eyes became small slits in its head as it stuck its tongue out, tasting the air for scents. Its head turned so quickly that it pulled a muscle, which healed even as it happened. It stared at the closet door, watching it as though it was supposed to do something other than what it was.
Slowly, the creature crept towards it, its claws ready to strike at a moment’s notice as its head bobbed from side to side.
Cathy watched as the shadow under the door became bigger and bigger, biting her lip so hard it drew blood.
“Xander!” Cathy cried, getting out of the car and running towards him, with Mike not far behind. They embraced him, tears of joy streaming down all three faces. They fell to the ground, kneeling on the wet soil, still embraced. Xander leaned in and kissed Cathy on the forehead. “It’s alright.”
She shook her head, trying to fight it, then finally gave up and simply burst into laughter. She hadn’t wanted to laugh right then. The way everyone was looking at her since trying to convince people that Grendel had raped her the night he died was merciless. There was so much in their eyes. Hatred, pity and always a little desire with the men, no matter who.
Except Xander.
“Thank you,” she said honestly, her voice sounding like the sun.
