"Yeah? Did I say something strange?"
The woman appeared lost in thought. She took another drag of her cigarette.
"Eh, it's probably nothin'."
Henry nodded complacently.
"So… how long is it going to take?"
She stared blankly at him.
"'til it's done."
"Yeah, of course, how stupid of me to ask." Henry turned his attention to the TV that was talking about—a yawn consumed him. "I think I'm just going to lay my head down for a moment, if that's alright."
The waitress was already paying attention to something else.
"Whatever you say."
Her coffee-and-cigarette breath was nauseating. Lying his head down was a nice reprieve. Henry rested his head on his hands, listening to the soft droning of the TV.
An earthquake startled Henry from his nap.
"Buddy, you gotta get out." The woman stood at his side, shaking him so hard he nearly fell off the stool. "We've been closed."
Henry's eyes were blurry.
"Huh?"
"You've been asleep, couldn't wake you for nothin'." She had her hands on her hips. "You gonna get the fuck out so I can go home?"
"Shit. Um… I've got to get back. I'll… I'll take the steak to go."
She rolled her eyes.
"It's been boxed."
Henry gave her a worried smile and hastily laid a twenty on the counter before grabbing his food.
He never ate that food, but if he had, he would've discovered it wasn't rare, it wasn't fresh, and it wasn't worth what happened when he was gone. He got back in the Cherokee and sped back to the motel in half the time it took to get there.
Lillith is going to fucking kill me.
When he pulled into the parking spot closest to the room, something was… off.
A street lamp weakly lit the area. It flickered occasionally and made a loud buzzing noise. He heard a noise. A different noise. One that someone shouldn't hear, not now, not ever.
Henry's eyes drifted to the glovebox. Something was screaming at him to grab his gun. His days in the service taught him to always be prepared. His days as a trucker taught him that some situations couldn't be solved without a firearm.
He popped it open and stored the .44-caliber revolver in the back of his jeans. Large boots left imprints leading to his room.
His heart sank.
Jacob's feet aren't that size. They should be asleep by now.
His boots squished under the wet slush of the dark night. He approached the door, which was slightly askew. Muffled cries came from the room.
He pushed open the door, and a silhouette of an unfamiliar shadow stood in the darkness.
"Oh fuck!"
The figure reached for something on the dresser.
Without a second thought, Henry pointed his weapon and fired, hitting the man in the chest, who collapsed to the ground.
A second figure emerged when it yelped. Henry looked towards the bed, where he noticed the figure on top of his wife.
"Jim? Are you—"
Henry tore the man from the mattress and slammed him to the floor, pinning him, putting the barrel to his temple.
"Who the fuck are you!" Henry screamed.
"Look, I-I-I didn't mean to kill her! S-she just wouldn't fuckin' stop screaming!" The man cried, pissing himself.
"Kill who?"
Henry looked up at the mattress. Lilith was unmoving.
The man pinned underneath Henry reached for the gun, but Henry pulled the trigger, splattering the man all over the carpet. Henry looked towards the other man he shot. That's when he noticed. Jacob, his beloved son, sat with a bruised body and a gash in his throat.
"Jacob!"
Henry cried out. A gurgled voice caused Henry to lift his head.
"Henry…?"
The voice was weak and foreign. It didn't sound like anyone he knew. But he did know them.
When he was upon his wife, she was still breathing. Her eyes were dead, but the recognition of seeing her husband rekindled a spark of humanity within her.
"Henry…" A crumb of joy in a hopeless voice. "You're always late…"
The bed was stained from the wound on her stomach.
Henry brushed her copper hair to the side and inspected her wound. He touched it. His hand soaked red.
"Oh God… Honey. Oh my God…"
She raised a hand to his face.
"I love you," She said softly. "Check on our daughter. Make sure…" she coughed, the last remnants of life were escaping her. "Make sure they didn't touch her."
She raised a shaky finger toward the back of the room.
Henry's heart felt as though it would explode.
Why did I fall asleep?! Why did I fall asleep?!
His mistake tormented him. He kissed Lilith's temple. Not wanting to leave her, but there was no choice.
Clothing fragments were scattered throughout the room. Henry's vision blurred as he approached the bathroom. He feared the worst.
"Big G?"
His hands were as unsteady as his voice.
A muffled voice responded in recognition. He opened the door fully, and his daughter was bound, gagged, and blindfolded.
"Thank God!"
He hurriedly removed the gag and bindings, but hesitated on the blindfold.
Gwyn coughed whenever the gag was removed.
"Daddy? What's happened… some scary men…"
Henry held his daughter like the very existence of the world depended on it.
"Thank God you're alright… you're safe now. Daddy's here."
He wept and wept as he stroked her hair.
Gwyn began to weep as well, unsure of what had happened.
"They said they were waiting for you, Daddy… Mommy said she'd…"
Henry silenced her.
"It's okay now… don't worry about any of that." He wiped his tears. "Can you be a big girl and leave your blindfold on when Daddy checks on something?"
Gwyn held the blindfold at its sides and nodded.
"I think so… It hurts my head."
Henry kissed her forehead.
"Just a little longer. You're safe here, don't come out. Okay?"
He tried to sound strong. He tried to sound like he had everything under control. His voice was filled with loss. With grief. He wished he were Gwyn, so that he didn't have to see them. That he didn't have to see what happened. To have a blissful ignorance of a child's misunderstanding.
He exited the bathroom and softly closed the door. His eyes fell upon his daughter, Jasmine. Rope was bound to the bedframe, pulled taut around her neck and body.
His jaw locked as he exhaled. Forcing the tears back inside.
They're all dead… they're all dead except for Gwyn.
A cough startled him as he ran over to the source.
His wife was still alive. Part of him wished she were already dead. He didn't wish to see her suffer any longer.
She flinched when he touched her.
"Henry…" Her voice filled with a foolish-hearted joy when she realized who it was. "Is… Is she… is Gwyn…"
"They didn't touch her."
He hoped it was true.
She exhaled and coughed. The last moments of relief.
"Good." Her eyes shifted back to Henry. "I… love…"
"Save your energy. Everything will be alright." The sounds of sirens were in the distance. "They're almost here, you just have to hold on a little longer."
"Right… I'll try… just tell… tell G-gwyn… I love her… and to be… a good girl."
The blinds were barely open. The light seemed to meet her face just enough so he could see her emerald eyes. Henry knew it was too late. He couldn't lie to himself anymore.
An irrational fear Lilith had was dying during childbirth, but now she would die protecting her children. She held on as long as she could, and it was enough.
"I-I-I-I."
Fucking talk, Henry.
He took a deep breath.
"I will, Honey."
He held the wound on her stomach, but the blood wouldn't stop escaping. The clothes gripped her skin tightly, soaked in a deep scarlet.
She raised her hand to his face. A blood print left a mark. She then closed her eyes, looking at peace.
Henry held the wound. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But he couldn't.
The wailing of sirens approached the motel, and it would be the last time the Grim family would be together in their entirety.