weareherewatching

[weareherewatching]

We Are Here - Chapter 1

Amara and Cody had always been inseparable, bound by a friendship that was forged in the fiery depths of hell. They had mended each other's souls when no one else could.

They were each other’s anchors, the only ones who understood the darkness in each other.

However, nothing can stay perfect forever, an incident happened.

One that shattered their fragile world. One which would leave them with scars, both visible and invisible, with wounds so deep they could never fully heal.

And eventually, force them to leave.

Forced to be on the run.

But no matter how far they went, darkness was bound to follow.

Amara’s eyes flew open, her breath catching as panic gripped her. She gasped for air, her hands scrambling up to her neck as if she could somehow claw the suffocating sensation away. The room around her spun, her pulse pounding in her ears like an army marching to war. Turning her head to the side, she saw Cody, calm and steady as always. He was sitting beside her, a glass of water in his hand. Wordlessly, he offered it to her, his eyes filled with quiet concern.

Amara grabbed the glass and drank it greedily, the cool liquid soothing her throat but doing little to calm the actual chaos inside her. Her hands trembled as she placed the empty glass back into his hands.

“Was it that dream again?” Cody asked, his voice soft but knowing.

Amara nodded, unable to trust herself to speak. The nightmares had returned, creeping into her thoughts with terrifying clarity. Each time, feeling more real.

Cody studied her, his eyes furrowing with worry. “Are you sure you are okay for tonight? We do not have to”

“I’ll be fine,” Amara interrupted, forcing a smile since she did not fully believe what she was saying. “We have work to do.”

Hours passed, and the weight of the night weighed on their shoulders. They sat in the eerie quiet of her room, the only light coming from the dim lamp overhead.

The plan was laid out in front of them, the perfect plan.

A plan that had to be executed to perfection in less than five hours.

“My dad will be in the living room,” Cody said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “You’ll handle him.”

Amara’s eyes narrowed as she sorted through the knives laid out on the floor in front of her. Her fingers dancing over the cold steel of each knife. It had to be perfect, the balance, the weight, the craftsmanship, everything. In the end, she selected a simple kitchen knife sharpened to a fine edge, its handle engraved with a name in blood-red lettering.

“I know the layout, "Amara replied absently, “Worry about yourself.”

Once they had packed everything into a small duffel bag, the two of them made their way outside. The cool night air biting at their skin, sending shivers down their spine. They did not speak as they slid into the car, the silence thick with anticipation.

Before Amara could start the engine, she turned to Cody, her voice low but deliberate.

“Just to be clear, after tonight, I don’t owe you anything.”

The car slowed as they arrived at Cody’s house. Without a word, they slipped on their surgical masks, the familiar fabric cloaking their identities. Cody grabbed the bag from the backseat and the pair made their way silently to the front door. Amara spun the knife between her fingers with practiced ease, the metallic gleam catching the moonlight.

The street was unnervingly quiet, the stillness of the night almost suffocating. The mist that clung to the ground seemed to wrap itself around their legs, as if the night itself were holding its breath, waiting.

Suddenly, a high-pitched meow shattered the silence, leading to Cody and Amara freezing, their eyes snapping to the middle of the road. A black cat sat there, motionless, its yellow eyes glowing like twin lanterns in the dark. For a long moment, neither of them moved, as if the cat held them in its gaze, paralyzing them with an unnatural stillness.

It was a moment that felt like it stretched on forever before Amara broke the trance with a sharp exhale. “Let’s get this over with.”

They moved on, their footsteps deliberate, their bodies attuned to every creak and whisper in the night. They separated once inside the house, each taking on their assigned task with precision. Amara entered the living room, her presence a shadow against the dim light. Cody's father sat there, unaware of the nightmare about to unfold.

“Hands up. Where I can see them,” Amara’s voice rang out, cold and commanding.

The man looked up in confusion, his eyes flickering with fear, “A-Amara, w-what’s going on?”

Amara smiled, a cold, twisted smile that made her blood hum with excitement. “You have three seconds to run. Do not waste them.”

The fear that spread across his face fueled something dark inside her. He stood frozen for a moment, caught between terror and confusion. Then, with a panicked shout, he bolted to the door, only to find it locked.

He finally managed to get the latch open, the chilly night air a promise of freedom, however fleeting.

But as he reached for the doorknob, she was on him. Not with a rush, but with a terrifying stillness.

One moment she was not there, the next she was. He did not even see her move. It was as if she had simply materialized beside him, a nightmare given form.

His eyes, wide with terror, met hers. They were cold, empty, reflecting nothing but the darkness within. He knew then, in the instant before the blade plunged into his chest, that there would be no escape, no tomorrow.

His final scream was cut short, a strangled whimper lost in the roar of the storm. Amara buried the knife deep in his chest, the resistance of flesh and bone a sickeningly familiar sensation.

He slumped against the doorframe, his lifeblood staining the wood a dark, viscous crimson. His gaze drifted to the rain-streaked window, the world outside a blurry, distorted mess. Life drained from his eyes, leaving them dull and lifeless.

A satisfied smile, small and chillingly beautiful, tugged at her lips. It was not a smile of triumph, not exactly. It was something colder, something more profound. It was the smile of someone who had delivered justice, or what she perceived as justice. She felt life leave his body, a palpable shift in the air, a whisper of the soul departing.

And at that moment, she was complete.

The hunt was over.

The debt was paid.

Minutes later, Cody appeared at the door, his face a mask of emotionless calm. He dropped his mother’s lifeless body to the floor beside his father’s, his hands bloodstained but steady.

“Did you have fun?” Cody’s voice was laced with dark amusement, his gaze flicking to the carnage around them.

“I did,” Amara chuckled, her fingers already pulling out lengths of rope from the bag.

They worked in silence, their movements mechanical. Amara took pleasure in the chaos she had wrought, the blood staining the carpet beneath their feet, the bodies swaying gently in the dim light. They made sure to leave the lights on, to make sure that anyone who passed by would see their work—see the bodies hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping onto the floor in a macabre display.

As they left the house, the world outside seemed unchanged—still, quiet, waiting. They slid into the car, their hearts still pounding with adrenaline. The thrill of the kill still burned hot in their veins, a fire that could never be extinguished.

The drive home was silent. But after a while, the tension broke, and they both started laughing. Low, guttural, filled with the madness that only they understood.

It was the thrill of it, the rush that came with doing something forbidden, something dark. It was a hunger they could never quite satiate.

As they were washing the blood from their skin, watching the red stained water run down the drain, they knew they could not wash away what they had become.

The next day, they would put on their masks—the ones they wore for the world—and pretend to be normal college students.

But they both knew that nothing would ever be normal again and they did not mind it one bit.

They loved who they were, who they had become once they had given in to their desires.