“Sorry,” you say simply. Glancing up at a faint crack of light coming from the door overhead, you ask, “Why doesn’t everyone just leave?”
“And go where? This is ourhome. It’s been our home for generations.”
The guilt is killing you.
You stand up, crossing the dark room, not even sure where you’re going.
You just can’t take it anymore.
“Watch it,” warns Eli, the stairs creaking as he moves out of the way.
Oops.
You’d almost forgotten he was sitting there.
“Chosen One.” Elena’s voice crackles from behind you. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” you say, one hand on the time-worn wooden rail, guiding yourself up toward the shaking door in front of you. “I can’t take sitting around anymore.”
Behind you, Eli lets out a dry laugh.
“I wouldn’t go up there if I were you. Not unless you’re ready to fight.”
The tiny sword in your pocket feels oddly warm, a strange energy pulsing through it.
It’s almost as if the sword itself is leading you.
You set your hand on the doorknob, hoping you won’t find a tornado on the other side.
“Listen,” you say, pulling out the tiny sword. “I’m not doing this for you.”
And then you grab the door, stepping back out of the basement.
It’s…
It’s a mess.
Furniture is strewn everywhere, bits of broken glass here and there. The living room window has blown inward from the wind.
But, miraculously, everything else in sight seems standing.
So that’s got to be a good sign.
Maybe it’s just a big storm.
Maybe you should go back to the basement, and there’s no monsters around. Maybe—
That’s when you hear the scream.
It sounds young, like a child, perhaps. A little girl.
Behind you, the basement door swings open and Eli and Elena hurry out.
Without even glancing back at them, you rush for the front door, flinging yourself out onto the street. Tiny sword brandished.
And there you see it.
A few doors down, across the dirt road, the roof has been torn completely open.
