Silver Seren/The Host - A Fan Fiction

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The Host - A Fan Fiction by ~silver-seren

The Host (A Fan Fiction) By Silver Seren

Twin headlight beams burned through the windows and the screen door, the slamming of car doors easily identifiable. Our parents, who were not our parents, were home. But I had already known the truth.

They had taken too long. And now they were gone.

As if to confirm this hard fact, another pair of lights swam into the house, a low rumble as engines were turned off. The crunching of gravel and whispering voices echoed in the confined area. The trees bounced sound back in every direction, a perfect dome. There was a lack of noise as they paused outside the door, voices suddenly audible. A creaking sounded, but the door then slammed shut, prompting a renewal of the voices.

“Wait. I do not advise this sort of action, Uplifted Leaves. We should enter first for your safety,” a male voice said, an edge within it rarely heard for their kind. But it wasn’t surprising, for this man was undoubtedly a-

“I protest, Seeker,” said a familiar voice in that forever, insufferable, calm tone of theirs. It brought a choking sob to my throat and I hugged my brother tighter against my side. “They are just children. One is older, yes, Seeker, but I don’t see this as a problem for us. We’ll bring them out for you. And please keep your weapons out of sight. It will frighten them,” sounding as if the weapons frightened him as well.

There was a shuffle and two distinct clicks, along with a woman’s sigh. “Very well. But we’ll stay close. Even human children can be violent,” the Seeker responded. Gravel shifted and the loud creak went to every corner of the house. A step on wood paneling followed, along with others. “Isaac? Eric? Where are you guys?” my father’s voice called out, faking affection. “We’re home!” another voice spoke and my arms froze.

Of course it would be our mother as well. There was no alternative. But that hadn’t stifled my hope that was now crushed. Eric trembled against my side and I patted his back reassuringly. We would survive this. I would make sure of it. This was hard to rationalize as my heart thumped painfully in my chest. The gleam from the two objects lying on the floor in front of me was both terrifying and comforting. They could be used as defense, but I couldn’t imagine actually using them, especially on my own parents. But they weren’t our parents. Not anymore.

We hid gasps when there was a noise and the kitchen door tilted inwards. “Boys?” the question came again, along with a flashlight beam. It swept over the pristine counter, the mahogany cabinets, and back towards the storage closet. Towards us. I could hear my mother calling through another part of the house, possibly heading for our bedrooms. We had known better than to hide there.

The beam suddenly jumped to the right and I blinked furiously as light burned into my eyes. “There you are, Isaac. Do you have your brother with you?” Hatred flared inside me, hatred for the creature in my father’s head. He shuffled closer and Eric, who was cowering behind me, buried himself deeper into my back, his sobbing muffled by my shirt. Then there was a pause when I raised my weapons into view.

The butcher knives gave off a sickening glow and the rubber handles slid across my palms. A sharp intake of breath came from my father and I could faintly hear my mother approaching. Her arrival would not make the situation any better. “Back up!” I growled, raising the knives higher. He obeyed, raising his hands in a placating gesture, nearly tripping on the slick linoleum. “Now son, Isaac…don’t do this,’ my father pleaded, fear warping his voice. My breathing was heavy as I brandished the knives threateningly and took a step forward. Eric clung to the hem of my shirt, following, making him clearly visible.

The man who wasn’t my father, but I couldn’t manage to think of him otherwise, flickered his eyes towards my brother, which somehow made me angrier. “You’re going to get out of our way,” I tried to sound calm, “And we’re going to leave. If you come after us, I won’t hesitate to use these.” It was hard to tell if I was bluffing or not and I wasn’t even sure. Though a soul wouldn’t have been able to tell even if I was. That was fortunate. My father’s face paled, the blood falling away, and his hands shook.

Expecting that to be the end of it, I took another cautious step towards the kitchen door, when a broad arm blocked my path and I looked up, eyes hard. But his face hadn’t changed and he began to beg, “Please don’t do this. The Seekers are out there and if you have those…please…” It sounded sincere, ever so truthful. My throat was dry and I knew it would be raspy if I spoke. “Yes…please don’t,” my mother said, stepping through the door, her hands clasped in front of her. She had obviously been eavesdropping.

The defenses I had erected in my mind against their influence were degrading and the knives felt like so much dead weight. It was Eric that reignited my senses, my protectiveness flaring, and I stepped back and to the right, placing the wooden island between us and the parental creatures. “Better off dead than one of them…one of you!” I spat, throwing out our frequently used epithet. Both staggered and pain creased their features, giving me the chance I needed.

One of the knives shot from my hand with a flick of my wrist and smashed through the window behind the sink, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. “Go, Eric, go!” I screamed, giving him a shove. His eyes unnaturally wide, my brother scrambled onto the counter and over the sink. By chance or some act of providence, the window pane had been almost completely knocked out, leaving only a few small, jagged shards of glass.

Also by luck, Eric was able to jump through unharmed. I backed slowly towards my escape, my hand gripping the remaining knife so tightly that my knuckles were white. “Isaac…” they said at the same time, their voices exactly as I remembered them, full of concern. Trying to swallow, I felt my back hit the counter. At that moment, there was a slam from the front door and I knew time was up.

The Seekers were coming.

I was unable to think of anything to say, anything last, anything final. Choking on words that would have been painful to evict, I slid onto the counter, the knife jiggling as my hand shook, and I suddenly jolted around for the window. It was in my blind haste that pain dashed up my arm from a deep slice. The remaining slivers of glass were small, but that hardly reduced their deadliness. My grip slid on the wooden siding and I spied a small, straight piece centered on the bottom that aimed to puncture me through and through.

I had no time to even gasp or scream, though my breath did lock up when an arm wrapped around my waist, suspending me an inch above the, possibly, fatal shard. “Are you alright?” my father whispered in my ear. A few deep breaths left me able to respond, “Sort of.” The throbbing in my arm fed the pounding in my head and the blood was flowing down my wrist judiciously. My mind was fluttering and wooziness was leaking into my clouded thoughts. But I had enough state of mind to realize that my situation was precarious, more so than my wounds.

“What’s going on here?!” a harsh voice demanded from the door. I gasped in shock, knowing that everything was lost. The Seekers were here. Struggling frantically, I scrabbled against the confining arms, throwing a panicked gaze at my father. His eyes were tortured and confused, conflicted in some way. The confusion transferred to me as I saw a glimmer of caring and compassion, which shouldn’t have been there. He wasn’t my father any longer, so he should have no feelings whatsoever for me or my brother. But there was no denying the love visioned in his hands holding me from pain, just like always.

The eyes hardened and turned away, the restrictive arms tightening, making my heart shatter into even smaller pieces than had already been wrought. There was no hope there. No, I would not be saved, but at least Eric had escaped. I hoped he would find some sort of safety away from these creatures in human skins. Then I jerked when his voice spoke so close, “Be safe,” he said to me.

Turning my gaze back, I was enveloped in the paternal love that had returned to his eyes in greater force. I hardly felt the hand pressed against my back, nor the push out the window, but I did feel the wind rushing past me and the ground coming up to meet me, hard. The grass hit my face as my arm twisted beneath me, followed by a loud cracking sound. My cry was muffled by smothering green, but my fingernails tore deeply into the dirt. Knowing that this pain was still nothing, I struggled to my feet with gasps, my wounded, now broken, arm hanging limply.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The Seeker sounded beyond angry. I knew I couldn’t stay, no matter how much I wished I could, and my legs reluctantly hurtled me forward. Branches brushed and slapped against my body, scraping excruciatingly against the gouge, the trees gliding past.

“Isaac,” a frightened whisper came from a crowd of bushes, which I pushed anxiously through. Eric was curled up in the middle of an enclosed space, tears splattered across his cheeks. “You’re okay,” he cried quietly, wrapping his thin arms around my waist. Hugging him back, I collapsed to my knees, trying to catch my breath. “You’re hurt,” Eric whispered, pointing at the blood oozing swiftly from my arm and dripping into the grass. It hurt, bad, especially now that the adrenaline was leaking out of my system.

About to reply, I spun around and clasped my palm over Eric’s mouth as a flashlight beam swept overhead. My brother’s eyes were wide and panicked as I held him close. Two sets of legs were standing only feet away and were conversing angrily.

“They got away!” “We’ll drive down to the base and work our way up. They won’t get far.” “Yes, they won’t escape.”

The boots crunched, vanishing, and twin car doors slammed as an engine revved. There was a squealing of tires and the smell of burning rubber, the sound fading into the distance. Then,

silence.

A chill wind filtered through the leaves, setting the forest a-clatter and setting cold into our bodies. I squeezed Eric tight against me to protect him from the worst of the wind and it heated us both to some extent. I was having trouble concentrating as blood continued to burn like fire down my arm.

Fear was filling my heart to the brim, for both me and my younger brother. If I died, I was sure nothing good would happen to him. The best possible outcome now for us both looked to be a swift death. I could see no way either of us would survive on our own, with every person our enemy. Maybe it was better that I was slowly dying now. Though I did regret that Eric’s death would be so much more painful than my own. Wetness bled into his hair as the tears fell from my face. There was nothing I could do.

Suddenly, familiar footsteps came from the house and I could see my ex-mother and father discussing something. Seeming to come to an agreement of sorts, my father turned generally towards us. But he had no clue where we were, he couldn’t, and that was shown when he paused in an open area devoid of trees. His deep brown eyes scanned the dark paths, almost as if in hope of seeing some sign of our successful escape, though the fact that this was coming from a soul perturbed me.

I had a rooted urge to run to my father, wrap my arms around him, and try to receive comfort. It took most of my willpower to tamp down on the urge and my tightened arms restrained Eric. We watched as our father bent over and placed something on the damp ground. He gave one last sweep of the woods, in which I caught a flash of silver from his eyes, before turning away. Another car started a few seconds later. This time, however, it drove silently and peacefully away.

I waited a minute longer, my ears keen for any noise, before I muttered, “Stay.” Crawling on my stomach, hand over hand through the grass, more like one hand though, I edged closer to the spot where my father had stood. A cylindrical object that was a normal canteen size lay crushing the green stems. Wrapping my good hand around it, I lifted the object to eye level, trying to make out the word stamped on the side.

Squinting, my eyes abruptly opened large as I made out the letters that spelled out the word “Heal”. It was hard to see then and I wiped mechanically at the lines running from my eyes.

“Thanks, Dad, Mom. I love you too.”