This was written long back, but I refrained from posting it :)
Corbette woke up to a horrible stench of beer and all things not natural. She glanced at the man sharing his bed with her, still stone drunk and snoring like an overgrown rhino. Sighing, she got up from bed and looked around for her clothes. The beast has thrown them under the bed, probably hoping that she wouldn’t find them anytime soon. Exasperated, Corbette rummaged under the creaking thing and proceeded to cover her naked body.
She made herself coffee in the beast’s kitchen and excused herself out. She had got her money last night, so there was nothing left for her to wait about for. Her trade wasn’t borne out of patience; it was to make herself available to the whims and fancies of all the drunks who roamed the sad parts of town in the death of night.
She still dreamed of the good old days, when she had a house-on-wheels of her own, when she had a son of her own. That was 16 years ago, and since then fortune hadn’t favoured her. The great hurricane of 1996 had taken everything away from her except her son, and she had nothing for herself, let alone for her foetus that would need so much. Worse, she didn’t even know who the boy’s father was…
Corbette couldn’t bear her son to grow up in such a sorry state. She was resigned to living a bad lifestyle, but she had always had high hopes for her son. Heartbroken, she couldn’t bear to see him grow up and struggle against a miserable world. So one non-descript Friday evening, she approached a young couple emerging from a cinema, and handed them her foetus, only murmuring that the boy’s name was Jacob. She was forced to let go of the last thing that was truly hers, and she had turned to the night streets for a means of survival.
Jacob had tried so hard to protect Lucy. She was the one person in the world he couldn’t bear being dragged into this mess, as much as she was the only person alive he wanted right now by his side. But now that the anomaly had captured her, a strange kind of fury surrounded Jacob, supported by just a tinge of calm. He had already known that he couldn’t keep her safe from all this, that someday soon he would have to tell her the truth. But he had rather hoped that he could have done it himself, rather than some creature of the underground belting it out in rough cut words.
He couldn’t bear the idea of losing Lucy after all that she had done for him. Had it not been for her, he would have lost hope long back. Smiling, he still remembered the last time he’d met her. She had slapped him because she was exasperated with his depressing mood. Not the best send-off gift, but he treasured that memory.
Slowly, he trudged up the last hill. He was getting close to the lair now, the place where it should all have ended, as it was the place where it started. Jacob had an eidetic memory of the most unusual sort, he remembered every single memory of his living life, right up to one month of his birth. He hadn’t really needed a map to guide him, he had the way laid out right there in his head.
The gateway to a cave loomed in front of him. Ahead of here, there was no light of the sun, only the death cry of reaped souls to guide him. It was the closest thing to being Hell on Earth, just that Jacob couldn’t believe that Hell had this bad lighting. Ah well, he plunged into the darkness and was lost to the mortal world. Inside that cave lay his one love, along with the secrets to his birth, and to the death of Isabelle O’Conner.