BLURB

“Death is like a rain you cannot stop.”

On the island of Vitam et Mortem, people with extraordinary capabilities exist and they are called medius which means middle. They are creatures that lie between the living and the dead. They can either see, hear or feel ghosts. The ordinary people of the island or the mormians do not acknowledge these creatures. They witnessed what a medius can do but they keep on invalidating such creatures accusing them of sorcery and witchcraft.

*****

“It tastes bland,” my daughter commented after taking a small bite of the dish prepared by the newly hired chef. She was staring at it blankly.

It has been weeks since her mother died. As time passes by she grew colder and colder and it kept on bothering me.

She glanced at the empty seat next to her where her mom used to sit. The room suddenly turned eerie. My heart banged hard against my chest.

She nodded her head as if she was taking orders from someone, someone she could only hear and see. She raised her hand and beckoned the chef who was standing behind her nervously. I have a bad feeling about this.

The lady chef stood beside her and waited for her words. My daughter quietly grabbed the fork and poked the soft meat. She then handed it to the chef.

The chef slowly brought the meat in her mouth and chew it as silent as she could. The pressure on the air was thick that even made a man like me feel sick.

“T-The meat is tender and savoury,” the chef told her. She clutched her skirt on the side. She was uneasy. “It still tastes good–”

“But not as good as before,” my daughter cut her off and made her stiffened.

My brows furrowed when my daughter started to unbutton her blouse in front of the chef, the foods, and me. “What are you doing, Am–”

“The food you serve are getting worse and worse.” Her eyes remained on the food in front of her. “You look a bit distracted.” She gradually turned her head to the chef who was oogling her almost naked breast.

“Cover yourself–” I wasn’t able to finish my sentence because of the sudden twitching of her shoulder. “Honey, what’s wrong?” I asked my daughter but she didn’t look like she heard me.

She shook her head. She was hesitant. “No!” she firmly said slamming her hand on the table. The hesitance on her face were soon replaced by sourness as she groans in pain.

I was numbed on my seat as I watch the cloth covering her shoulder slowly crampled until it was drenched with blood, my daughter’s blood.

“Do it!” A roaring voice echoed inside the room. It was hoarse and whole like to that of a devil.

That voice. It was her.

“No!” My daughter disagreed bursting into tears.

I filnched when a warm liquid splashed all over my face. The next thing I saw was my daughter holding the chef’s wrist and on her hand was the fork bored deep in her throat.

My daughter let her go and stared at her trembling hands with disbelief. She didn’t want any of this to happen but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Someone– no, something controlled her.

“Y-You...” The chef faced me. Her eyes was full of anger and was watery. She removed the fork and threw it away. She then pressed her hand against her throat to reduce the bleeding.  “Y-You told me that this is my second chance on life,” she added using her remaining strength blaming me. “Y-You said I could restart again–”

“Did you?” my daughter cut her off. “Multiple chances were given to you but you kept on making the same mistake. There’s no way that those girls fell sick and died for no reason. They were healthy and peacefully living their lives here. They were greatful to the chance and opportunity we gave them. Everything was on their rightful places not until you came.” She took a step closer but the chef staggered backwards and fell on the ground in fear.

My brows creased. The words that came out of her mouth is far from the words her age is capable of. My eyes widened. She grabbed the chef’s throat and lifted her by the throat to a height enough for their eyes to meet straight.

How could she do that? She was born weak and she was just seven years old! 

The realization hit me like a huge rock from the mountain-top and mumbled, “She’s not my daughter.”

“At the middle of the night you would sneak in their room and touch them... touch them against their will.” Her fingers tightened around her neck.

I couldn’t believe what I heard. I am the master in this house but I failed to see what was going on.

“And when I caught you, you even dared to threaten me.” She laughed evil enough to make the fine hairs on my body stood up. “I heard their screams asking for help but I couldn’t do anything because I was weak. I heard their cries begging for mercy but you never listened.” This time she cried and floated lifting the chef off the ground still choking her.

“That’s enough!” I stood up from my seat. But she didn’t listen. “Amelia!” I called in a warning tone.

As soon as I uttered her name her head turned in my direction. The corners of her lips twitched into a wicked smile. Her grip tightened more around her throat.

“So who’s gonna help me change now? Who’s going to play dress up with me? Who’s going to send and fetch me at school?” She was talking to chef but was looking at me. Her tears flowed down her cheeks but her lips plastered the same wicked smile. 

“I said that’s enough– arghh!” I groaned when a strong supernatural power pulled me back on my seat slamming my ass against the thick wooden chair. And now I couldn’t do anything as in anything, literally. I could feel it, the vast energy that wrapped my body entirely, restraining me.

I looked at my daughter. Both sadness and joy conquered her. Sadness on losing two friends and joy of satisfaction seeing the helpless girl suffer in her hands.

Chef’s head dropped on her side. Her eyes rolled at the back of her head until the black parts vanished. The veins on her neck and forehead were visible. She was lifeless.

As soon as the devil inside my daughter’s body realized that, she let her go. After that I was able to move and instinctly ran to her direction before her fragile body would reach the ground. I tightened my arms around her and brought her to her room. I gently laid her down to her bed and covered her with blanket.

I caressed her face. My tears rolled down my cheek as I watch her sleep peacefully. “I thought death could separate you from her... could set you free.”

Oh, heavens. What should I do now?