Pentacle

Acacia crouched in the shadowy confines of the closet—accompanied only by her shallow, trembling breaths. Her heart hammered so hard against her chest that she feared it might give her away. Her gaze shot to the thin sliver of light under the door as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. She tensed, holding her breath.

Her trepidation surged as a shadow passed by the light. The closet air seemed to come alive, responding to her terror. She fought to control her breathing, to no avail. Drawing in a sharp breath, the air inside the closet stirred around her.

She pressed against the back wall, watching the doorknob twist and the door creak open, flooding the closet with light. Acacia squinted, trying to make out the silhouette of the woman looming in the doorway, arms akimbo.

“Found her!” the woman shouted, exasperated.

Acacia’s heart sank; she was caught. Releasing a breath, she muttered, 'Fuck.'

“Language!” the woman reprimanded, stepping aside to let Acacia out. As Acacia stormed past, lightning flashed, illuminating her bedroom, followed by a wall-shaking crash of thunder.

Raindrops splattered against the woman’s arm, drawing her attention to the open window. “How many times have we told you to close the windows when it rains? You’ll ruin the molding.”

She moved to shut the window, pausing as her gaze caught a shrouded figure beneath a streetlight, seemingly watching them. She shook her head, dismissing the absurd thought as she slammed the windowpane closed with a shudder. Surely, no sane person would be out in this deluge.

“Shit. Forgot,” Acacia muttered, flopping onto her bed. “Sorry, Sharon.”

“It’s still mom,” Sharon corrected her.

“At least until I file for emancipation,” Acacia retorted.

Sharon smirked. “Or until your dad and I sign you up for reform school for the next four years of your life.”

Acacia rolled her eyes and grabbed her headphones. “You’re hilarious,” she said, deadpan.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Sharon scolded. “We missed your birthday dinner reservations.”

“I told you I wasn’t going if Mickey wasn’t invited,” Acacia said defiantly, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.

“The restaurant doesn’t allow juvenile delinquents, and neither does this family.”

Ignoring her mom’s retort, Acacia groaned and slid her headphones over her ears, turning up the volume until her mother’s voice was just a distant murmur. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift to Mickey. They met at school last year, and since then, they’d become inseparable. Acacia wasn’t rushing to get married or anything. She was nearly fifteen, not nearly insane.

It's just that Mickey loved the bright red streaks “littering” Acacia’s beautiful black hair, as her parents put it. He didn’t care that her closet was filled with black, gray, and red ripped or skull-peppered clothing. In fact, he thought it made the blue streaks in her silvery eyes all the more alluring.

Mickey was everything Acacia’s parents feared. He was the complete opposite of what they wanted in a boyfriend for their daughter, which scared them because it rendered their arguments for her to dress and behave differently moot. They wanted an ordinary daughter, but Acacia wanted to be anything but.

As Acacia tried to block out her mother’s nagging, Sharon rummaged through her closet, eliciting a groan of protest. Acacia felt her mother nudge her combat boot and cracked one eye open to see a pale yellow dress dangling over her. She watched her mom’s scowling face and moving lips, but the music successfully drowned out what she was saying.

Sharon’s eyes narrowed at Acacia’s unresponsiveness, and with a huff, she yanked the headphones off her daughter’s head.

“Hey!” Acacia protested, reaching for the headphones.

“I mean it, Acacia. Put this dress on and get in the car, or else…” Sharon trailed off, letting the unspoken threat linger.

Acacia returned her mother’s surly stare, arms crossed in defiance. But just as they began, their standoff was cut short by a gruff voice coming from the hallway.

“Now, Acacia!” her dad barked, a rare but authoritative intervention that usually left Acacia at an extreme disadvantage.

“Fine,” Acacia huffed, leaping off the bed, too angry to notice the way the bottom of the dress ruffled with her exhale.

Her mom smirked victoriously. “Hurry up so we can make our new reservation and wipe off some of that eyeliner. We’re not going to a funer—”

Sharon stopped abruptly when she saw the fear etched on her daughter’s face. “Acacia?”

Acacia remained silent, but her mother followed her gaze and gasped at the sight of a man standing behind her. He was clad in layers of tattered, musty brown clothing.

However, this was no ordinary man. Oh no—men had eyes, noses, and mouths, but this creature was a far cry from anything that could be classified as human. Its skin appeared to be melting off its body, forming thick, burnished-olive flaps along the sides of its head. The flaps overlapped where its nose and mouth should have been, and it did, in fact, have eyes—glowing crimson sockets devoid of emotion, save for an insatiable hunger aimed at Acacia.

Without hesitation, Sharon sprang between the monster and her daughter, ready for action. Her body went taut as she drew a pendant from around her neck, reciting, “North, west, south, east,” eyes locked on the beast.

The monster’s flaps quivered in response, and a deafening shriek emanated from it. Enraged by her words, it stretched its head towards the ceiling until the veins in its neck glowed a vibrant yet murky green.

“Mom—” Acacia started, but the monster cut her off, whipping its head towards Sharon, revealing rows of vicious fangs. Each row only became visible after it released a vile sludge ball at Sharon.

Acacia froze, paralyzed by her mom’s agonizing screams as the sludge encased her, bubbling and hissing as it devoured her flesh. Then, the worst sound Acacia never knew existed flooded the room. Silence.

Acacia’s stomach churned as the putrid scent of charred flesh assaulted her nostrils, a brutal reminder of her mother’s grim fate. A snicker from across the room sent a jolt of fear through her tense body. She watched as the beast tilted its head, locking its scarlet stare onto her. Her heart raced as she closed her eyes and covered her face, bracing for the creature’s imminent attack.

But instead of being struck by acidic spit, a powerful gust of wind blew through the room. Opening her eyes, Acacia saw the beast pinned against the wall, struggling against a wind that appeared to emanate from—her hands? She couldn’t understand how it was possible.

“Who cares?” she exclaimed, watching the monster rise from the ground. She spun to flee for the door but stopped when her dad burst in, his eyes darting around the room in panic.

His gaze found the gruesome remains of his wife, and he let out a cry of despair, “Sharon!”

Acacia’s voice, trembling with terror, pleaded, “Dad, no!”

Her father’s head snapped up from his despair just in time to see the creature pushing off the wall, its bloodthirsty gaze fixed on Acacia. The monster opened its mouth, and a thick bile sped toward her.

Acacia squeezed her eyes shut, convinced her luck had run out. Then, the second worst sound filled the air. Her father’s screams were more guttural than her mother’s but just as devastating. Acacia crumpled to the floor beside him, her tears swelling as she watched the acid pop and sizzle his skin.

“Dad! Dad,” she sobbed, reaching out to touch him but recoiling as the acid seared her fingers. “Daddy?” she whispered, a mix of fear and disbelief in her voice.

Glancing up, she saw her mother’s lifeless form nearby. Their silence was palpable, a stark reminder that she was now alone.

A faint gust of wind whooshed past Acacia, sending her a chilling reassurance she wasn’t entirely alone. Her body trembled uncontrollably like a leaf caught in the violent storm outside.

Now, on either side of the monster, an additional abomination leered at her. They reveled in her anguish, hissing and cackling with wicked delight as they bared their razor-sharp fangs. The grotesque trio seemed to feed off Acacia’s distress, their presence amplifying the darkness that enveloped the room.

Acacia’s vision blurred as she scooted towards the closet, too terrified and despondent to flee from their menacing advance.