Chapter 7
Reborn
Cynthia Dawes had bested the most violent of evil. Her brother Liam was still worried about her. But all Cynthia needed was a stern talking to from her foul mouthed spirit of a mother, Thelma. As Cynthia lay on the bed, she sees her father. And for the first time, the spirit speaks. "Roof, stop being so hard on our girl! She did good! Get on over there, and give Cyn a hug!! That's our baby!!". The spirit of Thelma gently embraces Cynthia and Liam, saying " I'm proud of y'all. Y'all the elders now. Keep the family strong. Or I'll come back and make your heads roll like a Jhonny cake!!"
The acrid scent of brimstone and ozone still clung to the air, a ghost of the inferno that had consumed Astaroth. Cynthia lay on her bed, the pristine white sheets a stark contrast to the scorched earth visible through her shattered window. The profound peace that had settled within her after her transformation was beginning to fray at the edges, replaced by a familiar weariness. Liam’s frantic questions, though well-intentioned, felt like a discordant note in the quiet aftermath.
“Don’t worry about it, Liam,” she’d said, her voice steady, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her. He’d looked at her, his brow furrowed with a worry that ached in her chest. He was her anchor, her constant, and seeing him so unsettled gnawed at her.
A familiar, spectral presence shimmered into existence beside her bed. Thelma, her mother, usually a beacon of sardonic comfort, seemed subdued. Her form flickered, a soft, worried light radiating from her. Cynthia felt a pang of guilt. She’d always been the one to protect Liam, but now, after facing down a demon, she was the one causing her brother distress.
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