Young Writers Society

Thumps and crashed were heard throughout the house, the faint, quick sounds reaching the ears of young Priscilla. She blinked her tired eyes open, lifting herself from her bed with a shaky arm and rubbing her eyes. A scream erupted from beneath her, but was quickly muffled.

Panicked, Priscilla slid her person from her bed, slipping her dainty feet into her slippers and heading towards the door.

As she slowly, fearfully crawled down the wooden stairs, trying to avoid making any noises, the sounds from earlier had stopped, only a slight squelch every now and then. She drew a shaky breath, looking down from the banister. The main room was fine.

Her eyes widened when her eyes traveled more to the left, catching a slight shimmer of red. She gripped the banister with small hands tightly, wanting to run back up into her room and hide under the covers. Her curiosity overcame her fear, though, and she continued down the stairs.

Her heart acted as if she were running a marathon, slamming against her chest as she reached the doorway, peeking around. Her large, hazel eyes widened, her jaw dropping, as she saw the most gruesome sight.

Thin blood was pooling onto the floor, slowly growing and reaching towards her feet. Her eyes traveled up to see her sister's face, plastered in the shape of utter shock. Her chestnut hair fell across her mauled face, also covering the huge gash in her neck.

Priscilla's heart skipped a beat when she saw her father, veins and muscles protruding from his skin. He sat samurai-style over her mauled body, his beefy hands ripping into her intestines and slipping them into his mouth. Sharp teeth ripped at the juicy flesh, blood dribbling down his chin and staining his clothes. His golden eyes snapped open as he buried his face in for more, slurping up her decadent contents.

Priscilla's legs shook, making her stumble onto the floor beneath her. This monster that took on her father's form didn't seem to notice, though; he continued feasting on his "daughter".

Priscilla let out a small whimper, tears flooding over her eyes and running down her clenched jaw. Her lungs seemed to force out even more air with each breath she took, her eyes losing focus. She was snapped back to reality when the beast let out a chuckle, tightening his fists and transforming.

The muscles in his body grew quickly, three times the size of that a humans, his bones reforming into a different structure. The discs in his spinal cord popped, stretching his body and showing from his back.

As his skin started hardening, Priscilla watched in complete horror, feeling herself about to faint. She quickly looked around the room, her trembling legs forcing her to the ax hanging on the wall. She grabbed the end of the handle, lunging towards her "father" and swinging down with all her might.

A loud shriek erupted from the room, slipping out from the walls and ringing into the rest of the town. A thud followed- a thud that came from the Yoma's head falling onto the floor. Purple blood spurted out from the wounds, spraying the walls and small frame of this girl. She fell to the floor onto her knees, fingers dropping the ax as she let out her own violent sobs, her entire family now gone.



"I see that you killed that Yoma on your own."

Priscilla scrunched her nose, blinking her eyes open and widening. The remains of last night's ordeal remained on the floor. She turned her attention to the man standing nearby, though, round, tinted shades hiding his eyes.

"I suppose you're left without a family now, is that right?"

As this hit Priscilla once more, tears started to form in her eyes. This complete stranger that decided to walk into her house- it was as if he made this all happen to see her in agony.

He smirked, holding out a hand.

"I suppose you want revenge on any of the Yoma now, correct? After all, they're nothing butmonstersthat will feast on whomever they please."

This man…. He was playing with the mind of this young girl with only a few sentences. These words, though- they were the truth. He had handed her the very motivation for her living on a silver platter as if he were writing her life.

He curled his fingers, flexing them out.

"I can help you accomplish that. You see, you can become part of the organization- we are warriors trained to kill Yoma. In order to do that, though," he continued, gesturing towards the Yoma. "You must become half-Yoma yourself- in order to detect the Yoma in human form like that as your father, of course."

Priscilla bristled. Be able to kill all of the Yoma before anyone else was hurt? More tears poured down her face as she thought on this. Her childish mind guided her to the decision that would change many lives.

She took this strange man in black's hand, pulling herself up from the blood-stained ground.