Chyna Rhalin
Visitor
Chyna Rhalin – Part 1 (Many years ago)
“Go find daddy and tell him dinner is ready.”
Chyna raced through the house. She loved this game she played with her parents. She knew her father hid in a different spot each time, but she always found him. Laughing, he would scoop her up and carry her out to the dinner table, and carefully put her in her chair.
Chyna’s parents had not been able to have another child, so they devoted themselves to her giving her everything she desired.
She was happier than any little girl had a right to be.
Giggling, she picked up her fork. When she looked at her plate, it was covered in blood. Blood dripped from the over-full plate and spilled onto the table, then continued onto the floor, where it pooled into a shiny puddle.
Confused, she looked up at her parents. Their blank eyes looked back at her. The blood was dipping from the gash in each of their throats.
She woke screaming.
Gasping from the nightmare, she sensed the change in the room.
Something was wrong, she could feel it. She cautiously looked around the dirty room. She felt the presence although she couldn't see anyone in the darkness. She kept her breathing even, waiting, listening. The sound of the footsteps were almost imperceptible, but she could hear them. She knew this room like the back of her hand.
Chyna quietly slipped her hand under her pillow and wrapped it around the hilt of the dagger.
When she heard the footsteps get close to her bed, she jumped up startling the intruder, and landed behind him, dagger pressed to his throat.
"Chyna! Wait!" the man gasped.
She paused. "Simon?"
The dagger dropped to the floor.
"What are you doing here? I could have killed you!"
"You were screaming. It was the nightmare again, wasn't it?"
When she didn't answer he said, "someone is going to hear you, then we will both die."
She looked at him, eye flashing angrily. "Fine, I'll leave then." She started putting her meager belongings into her pack.
Since her parent’s death, she had constantly been on the move; never staying in one place very long. During her travels, she had met Simon. They connected, so she stayed with him far longer than she intended. But it was now time to leave. Simon was distracting her from what she needed to do.
She had been on the hunt for the men who killed her parents.
She had come close several times, but they always managed to elude her.
It had been three years since that fatal night. Three long years, since she had watched her parents being slaughtered. She had been twelve at the time. Not much more than a child still.
Her mother seemed to know what was about to happen, she forced Chyna into the cabinet and told her no matter what she saw or heard she was not to come out. Chyna had stayed there for two days, afraid that the men knew she was there and would be back. Hunger and thirst forced her out of hiding. She grabbed what she could and ran from the only home she ever knew, and the bodies of her parents which were lying where they fell.
She never looked back.
She would never forget the faces of the three men who destroyed her life that day. And although she had not once held a weapon, she vowed to find them and kill them.
To be continued...
“Go find daddy and tell him dinner is ready.”
Chyna raced through the house. She loved this game she played with her parents. She knew her father hid in a different spot each time, but she always found him. Laughing, he would scoop her up and carry her out to the dinner table, and carefully put her in her chair.
Chyna’s parents had not been able to have another child, so they devoted themselves to her giving her everything she desired.
She was happier than any little girl had a right to be.
Giggling, she picked up her fork. When she looked at her plate, it was covered in blood. Blood dripped from the over-full plate and spilled onto the table, then continued onto the floor, where it pooled into a shiny puddle.
Confused, she looked up at her parents. Their blank eyes looked back at her. The blood was dipping from the gash in each of their throats.
She woke screaming.
Gasping from the nightmare, she sensed the change in the room.
Something was wrong, she could feel it. She cautiously looked around the dirty room. She felt the presence although she couldn't see anyone in the darkness. She kept her breathing even, waiting, listening. The sound of the footsteps were almost imperceptible, but she could hear them. She knew this room like the back of her hand.
Chyna quietly slipped her hand under her pillow and wrapped it around the hilt of the dagger.
When she heard the footsteps get close to her bed, she jumped up startling the intruder, and landed behind him, dagger pressed to his throat.
"Chyna! Wait!" the man gasped.
She paused. "Simon?"
The dagger dropped to the floor.
"What are you doing here? I could have killed you!"
"You were screaming. It was the nightmare again, wasn't it?"
When she didn't answer he said, "someone is going to hear you, then we will both die."
She looked at him, eye flashing angrily. "Fine, I'll leave then." She started putting her meager belongings into her pack.
Since her parent’s death, she had constantly been on the move; never staying in one place very long. During her travels, she had met Simon. They connected, so she stayed with him far longer than she intended. But it was now time to leave. Simon was distracting her from what she needed to do.
She had been on the hunt for the men who killed her parents.
She had come close several times, but they always managed to elude her.
It had been three years since that fatal night. Three long years, since she had watched her parents being slaughtered. She had been twelve at the time. Not much more than a child still.
Her mother seemed to know what was about to happen, she forced Chyna into the cabinet and told her no matter what she saw or heard she was not to come out. Chyna had stayed there for two days, afraid that the men knew she was there and would be back. Hunger and thirst forced her out of hiding. She grabbed what she could and ran from the only home she ever knew, and the bodies of her parents which were lying where they fell.
She never looked back.
She would never forget the faces of the three men who destroyed her life that day. And although she had not once held a weapon, she vowed to find them and kill them.
To be continued...