Desiree DeOrto: The Prophecy

He breathed deeply, trying to calm the animal within. He clenched his eyes shut against the urge to run, to stay free. The animal within him rebelled at the thought of a cage, any cage. The man in him knew it was his calling, his fate. He felt the caress of the Goddess. Tangible, soothing. He opened his eyes and became caught in Sarah's penetrating gaze. “I give you my oath.” Sarah closed her eyes in relief. A soft whisper of thanks formed on her tongue only to have it changed into an agonizing scream as the most intense pain hit her.

She frantically gripped his arm, surprising them both with her strength. “Now! You must do it now before we run out of time!” she bit out between clenched teeth, holding in another scream as she felt her body starting to rip from the pressure. She wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. She pulled her sacred dagger from the folds of her blood stained cloak. She handed it to him, silently begging for him to end her pain.

He nodded as he grasped the hilt, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She tensed as she heard him cut through the fabric of her gown, exposing her clenching abdomen to the warming air. Morning was fast approaching, turning the midnight blue sky to gray streaked with the softest of pinks and yellows.

“Remember your oath, shifter.” Even though she said it softly, on the merest whisper of breath, he still heard the steal beneath her gentle tone.

“My name is Maximus.”

“Maximus.” She echoed, looking deeply into his eyes. “The Goddess will bless you and your descendant’s.”

With her last blessing as High Priestess, he plunged the dagger into her abdomen, cutting open her womb. As the sun rose over the top of the trees, he held the babe in his hand, letting her wail the first of many tears to be shed over the loss of Sarah, High Priestess, and beloved of the Goddess.

“I can't believe you shanghaied us to here .” I twisted my auburn hair nervously around my hand while glaring out the window. I didn't want to look at my parents. I didn't want to see the 'look' they'd share. The one that said they were getting tired of hearing me complain. Yes, I was complaining. Majorly. But this was a big change. With everything else that had been going on in my life lately, you'd think I'd deserved the right to bitch a little bit.

Streaming sunlight illuminated the red tint in my dark tresses with strands of gold gleaming sporadically throughout. Trees flew past the window, causing a dizzying display of browns and greens. Even though the passing scenery was beautiful, it didn’t compete with my overwhelming depression and fear. Not to mention the confusion. It's pretty bad when you don't even know who you are anymore.

“Seriously mom, we could be headed straight into a den of inbred serial killers. Haven't you seen Wrong Turn ? There could be ‘cannibalistic mountain men’ lurking everywhere!”

I switched my gaze from the passing scenery to my mother’s reflection in the rear view mirror. Eleanor, my mother, was the epitome of perfection, both physically and person-ably. Her long strawberry blonde hair was cut to frame her fairy like face, enhancing her slightly angled violet eyes. They were captivating and so clear they made my own violet-gray eyes appear murky, dull. Her eyes were sparkling with irritation. I knew mine fared no better.

“Star, we've been over this a million times. There are no mutant freaks, 'cannibalistic mountain men', or deranged serial killers here. I wish you'd quit watching so many scary movies.”

“Hey, I did my research. Ten horror movies are based in Virginia.” I slouched in my seat, feeling petulant.

“Let me guess, Google?” she looked over to my dad for help. My dad, Paul, wasn't very good with the whole parenting thing. He was always too much fun to ever be serious. Even now, when I felt like my world was going to implode and I'd be left in a million pieces, he still wasn't serious. He looked up through the windshield, searching the sky like he was seeking divine intervention. I hoped that if he received any that he'd send some my way. I could totally use it.

“I like being informed. Besides, they have to be based off of some semblance of the truth. People don't just get ideas out of thin air. There are way too many similarities between movies and books to argue otherwise.”

“They're movies Star, not reality. There's as much of a chance of you being eaten or murdered in California as there is here.” Dad added in, trying to be helpful. He failed miserably.

I straightened at his comment. His baby blue eyes sparkled with mirth. I didn't find it funny at all. “Gee, thanks Dad. I feel so much better about my chances of survival.” I may love horror movies, but I'm actually a big chicken when it comes to anything even remotely scary.

“Glad to help keep you informed.” He said, grinning.

“You're not helping.” Mom whispered loudly at him with an elegant eye roll. That was one thing about my mother. No matter what she did, it always looked elegant. She could stand in the streets wearing a clown costume while doing the chicken dance and people would applaud her and say how graceful she was. I didn’t inherit that ability. Compared to her, I was as graceful as a lopsided elephant.

“Well it's the truth. We could have moved to Florida and faced flesh eating bath salt zombies instead. But, hey, I'd rather face the possibility of ‘cannibalistic mountain men’ over zombies any day. There's more of a survival rate that way.” He shrugged and turned his full attention back to the twisting road ahead of us.

I couldn’t believe we were actually on our way to Shiloh, a no name town smack dab on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. Three days ago, we were in L.A., surrounded by the familiar comfort of concrete and an overwhelming population. Now, we were surrounded by nature. I shuddered at the thought of all the different creepy crawlies I’d end up encountering.

I didn’t mind insects. I could look at them with no problem, even point out different types. But there was a big difference between looking at them from a safe distance to actually encountering them. I paled as I pictured waking up to a spider staring at me. I wasn’t much for physical fitness, but if a bug got near me I’d sprint faster than an Olympic gold medalist. Insects were just one of the things that marred living in the country.

“Mom, can we please just—”

“Star, we've been over this a million times. You know why we're moving here. I just wish you'd accept it and make the best of it.”

I could feel my anger building up. I bit my lip, attempting to keep the bitterness in. Getting into a fight wouldn't help my situation any, and we've been getting into to many lately. I hated it. I hated the fighting. I hated hurting my parents. I hated feeling so out of control.

Mom did one of those heavy sigh things that only mothers know how to do. Like their kid is the equivalent of the weight of the world on their shoulders. “Look, I know that this move is hard on you. You're seventeen, emotional, and being thrown into a new environment that you're not familiar with. But you have to understand that this is a good thing for our family, especially with everything that's been going on these past couple of months.”

“Mom, please don't start this again—” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off a headache. I knew all of their reasons. I had them memorized by now. I just couldn't understand how they didn't see that moving me across the country wasn't going to fix my problems. If it was that easy, I'd happily move across the world to do it.