Mika. The Butcher's Daughter: MIKA, #3

By ghesia morett

In an undetermined future, where the walls between nations are a reality, science and the creatures of the dark hope to make a dead legend reality. Meanwhile, the world prepares for a special and unique occasion: A worldwide meteor shower. Everything seems to be going well for Mika and her family. However, there is nothing better than a quicker and more lethal host than could be imagined. No one is ready for something like that, except maybe…Her. And some more chosen ones.

Mystery, intrigue, horror, adventure, action, and romance accompany this foolish and impulsive heroine who fights by instinct and from the heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ghesia morett
• Release date: Dec 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781071524336

Book preview

NIGHT AND DAY

They were walking really fast, almost running. Sometimes she got out of breath following her sister who seemed to be carried by the wind. The streets were empty at that time of night and she was cursing herself for her own heart. If she weren’t so kind-hearted, she wouldn’t be in this situation. But, at the end of the day, there wasn’t much Elena wouldn’t do for her sister, though she didn’t deserve the risk and sacrifice. It was also true that she somehow felt like she owed it to her.

She couldn’t bear her suffering either and Mikaela would have gone alone anyway, which convinced her she was doing the right thing.

She had been so surprised to get the boy’s message on her communicator that it still seemed impossible that it was him, but when she heard it, her sister recognized it immediately and begged her to help her.

The last night home for both of them and she had managed to break all the rules their parents had imposed these last few days. All except one: not to let Mikaela go out alone.

Since the trial, everything had changed so much at home that she was infinitely happy to leave for university. Somehow, she felt freed from the tension caused by her sister’s madness.

In those last years, she had tried every way to reach out to her, but she always clammed up. She was so weird that it seemed impossible to understand her.

Their parent’s desperation, when they finally found out about her adventures, it had almost left them in a state of shock when they understood what her sister had gotten involved in.

The charges went beyond simple drug possession like she had been afraid of. She had even been warned about it many times. At some point they would catch her, and though they were weak drugs and the majority of the times she had a prescription, she knew this would happen, she was even prepared for it.

When her father arrived with her sister at the police station, after paying her bond, he was so livid that he didn’t let go of her arm until he locked her up in her room, and imposed the rules, yelling so her sister could hear him: no going out on the street alone, not even her room, without his permission. She’d be watched 24/7, no kind of communication with her friends, though they only knew of one and, especially, not giving her any kind of drugs, legal or not, of course. What surprised her the most was that he forbid them from putting knives near her, not even to eat. Then he took them to the living room, and already calmer, he ordered them to sit and started to explain everything to them.

Mikaela was expelled from school from the last quarter and their father had decided to take her with him to the butcher’s shop and teach her his trade. Since she insisted on not continuing her studies and skipping her classes, it seemed like the best option to everyone. Thus far, everything had more or less been okay. Their father became content with her advances and how willing her sister seemed to be. Once he had even made a display of paternal pride, showing off how well she handled the knives, how she cared about the material, the perfection of some cuts he had taught her, and how she tried to clean everything. Her sister had won his trust, though her weak point was evidently her treatment with customers, who she dealt with and listened to, but didn’t say anything more than a good day to, huffing when their father made her tend the counter.

They had arrested her for assault and possession of drugs, a kind of pill I don’t know. It’s a new illegal drug. They told me they still didn’t even really know what it was. Apparently, she fought with a dealer, stabbed him, and cut off his ear.

She and her mother were left speechless.

He continued telling them that the knife she had done it with was a small one he had given up for lost at the butcher’s shop and was used as a short knife for deboning. He thanked God because she hadn’t taken anything bigger. Of course, she wasn’t stupid and knew he would have realized more easily. Losing a small knife was simple, it could fall in the waste bin easily, but he would look more carefully and more persistently for a bigger and more expensive one.

There in the living room, her father was more disappointed and downcast than angry, and stayed like that until the trial, until he heard from the lips of his daughter the oath of rehabilitating herself in front of the judge. In the middle of all that, they had had to move and leave the house where they had grown up.

Her mother spent the following weeks shut up in the house with her sister, crying, and fighting with her until she managed to pull out the promise that she would erase the drugs from her body forever, even if she didn’t say it very convinced.

Despite everything, they did as much as they could for their daughter, selling their house and renting the apartment where they were living now. She hated her sister for that. They hired the best lawyer and they sighed when the judge ruled that, given it was her first crime and her state of drug addiction, he sentenced her to only eighteen months in a state reintegration and rehabilitation center. Even she was surprised by the sentence. It was too soft since she recently turned eighteen. But she was glad her sister didn’t have to step a foot in jail.

Mikaela had gone from completely blocking out her surroundings to hysteria, and from that to a state of almost normal spirits, though with a deep sadness in her eyes. She was the only one who knew her sister barely slept through the nights, and when she did, she woke up frightened and shaking. But she never told her about her nightmares.

Since they turned thirteen, her sister had been constructing a wall between them. She didn’t like her new friends from school, nor did she like her little boyfriends or anything Elena might remotely like. She had been putting aside her studies and looking for stranger friendships. But at fifteen, she met that Steve guy, the weirdest of all. He was practically a ghost. He didn’t talk to anyone or let anyone get near him. He always walked alone, and she didn’t know anyone who could say he had ever spoken to them. Even the teachers ignored him, aware that he wasn’t going to respond to any questions, even though he knew the answers. He got red, bowed his head, crossing his arms, frowning, and pursing his lips as if he were about to let loose a couple of blows or curses, but he simply remained like that or he was really cold. He had done it to her a couple of times when she had approached him to ask about her sister.

Steve had been sentenced to six months of reintegration for being an accessory to a misdemeanor since they had incredibly awarded him a special fine arts scholarship. She didn’t even know he had any talent, but Mikaela had told her in a fight they had a while ago that he made some incredible drawings. She told her that she was the only person he had shown them to. Afterwards, she knew her sister had sent several of them to a national contest that offered a special scholarship to study in Europe.

To her sister, she knew that what hurt her the most from the whole situation was not being able to see and talk to her friend. Though she had been really happy when she found out he had won the scholarship, which definitely took him away from her side forever. It had made her blood boil that she was happier for him than for the scholarship she had gotten.

She had said goodbye to all her friends and hadn’t felt even half the loss of what those two felt.

She couldn’t understand her sister, and even less the kind of relationship she had with him, because she had told her that there was never anything romantic between them, and yet, they would have been ready to die and kill for each other.

When she received that voicemail from Steve to deliver it to her sister that last day, she had to think of how to get them to see each other, and knew she’d have to lie to her parents by telling them she was nervous in order to get them to let them take a walk through the park near their house and to take Mikaela with her that way.

The weird kid who didn’t deign to talk to anyone, who inevitably freaked out when she spoke to him, sent her a distress call begging for her help. When she passed the small device to her sister, she was even more surprised than her.

You have no idea how big of an effort he made to send this, Mikaela said with tears in her eyes.

But she understood. That’s why she was running through alleyways she didn’t know at the dead of night to go to some place only they knew about and where they usually met up at. It turned out that it was none other than the backyard of the small San Miguel Church, which they had accessed from a hole in a wall that was covered by ivy.

Steve was sitting on a stone bench that was underneath an enormous and dark tree, a cypress, she guessed.

Stay here, please. You know how he is. I need to say goodbye.

She nodded reluctantly because she was still out of breath and let herself fall against the wall to get it back.

She didn’t know where her sister got her strength from to continue walking towards the place where the guy was at. She watched him stand up as soon as he saw her sister approach him. For the first time, he looked at her, greeting her with a quick nod. She figured it was his way of thanking her.

Steve was a run-of-the-mill guy, from his height, which was maybe a little on the shorter side, thin, with a shaved head, and peach fuzz. The only laudable thing was his light blue eyes, which were as unusual as him. A small head and a face so normal, she almost didn’t know how to define it, and skin even paler than her own. She noticed he was carrying a big shoulder bag, which he left on the bench to hug Mikaela. That, without a doubt, was something extraordinary. She had never seen the guy get so close to anyone. Of course, she didn’t know him well enough to know. She was only guessing from what her sister had told her lately.

It seemed kind of affectionate and she felt like an intruder. So, she sat on the ivy, leaning her back against the wall, and lowered her gaze to the ground, entertaining herself by pulling up some ivy that was by her feet. She couldn’t imagine what they were talking about, but they were certainly two very special people, and she was sure that Mikaela would tell her if she insisted enough.

After all, they were twins. She sensed a lot of things from her, despite everything that separated them, and she continued loving her like the sister she was. She obsessed over those contradicting feeling many times.

On many occasions, she had felt angry when someone had asked if she dyed her hair and if she was wearing contacts when they saw them together because Mikaela had brown hair and big, dark brown eyes, but she was blonde, and had their father’s blue eyes. As if the norm was to be brunette and have dark eyes.

Otherwise, they were physically identical: the same shape of their face, the same nose, the same mouth, the same smile and even the same height. Lately, Mikaela was thinner and the rings under her eyes looked somewhat darker, but, even so, she was still very beautiful. What she wanted to say was that she also was. In fact, she had been chosen as the prom queen two years in a row, but that was blamed more on her gift with people than her well maintained beauty and her friendships.

Mikaela barely looked at herself. She always wore jeans and T-shirts or hoodies. She had never seen her in high heels and attending a dance was a form of social humiliation more than an opportunity to stand out or have fun, like it was for her. It had cost her countless arguments with her friends that no one would mess with her and they let her pass through the school like a ghost, even the teachers looked the other way as if she didn’t exist, except the chemistry teacher oddly. It was the only subject she had stood out in and she had done it with a little group of freaks she usually spent time in the lab with. She was so jealous when they sent them on that trip, though it turned out to be a disaster in the end, like everything that involved her sister. She knew the death of her friends and teacher had caused her a lot of pain and hurt. She wasn’t surprised by everything that happened afterwards.

She felt that her sister had a very particular way of seeing the world, much darker and blacker than hers. She wished she would tell her things like when they were kids. She knew something was tormenting her, but her sister wouldn’t tell her anything, despite her trying to wheedle it out of her several times. She only managed to have one fight after another with her and, in the end, she gave up. She should have continued insisting instead of busying herself with her things and leaving her adrift. After everything that had happened, she felt like she had betrayed her, without knowing why, since she was the one who had tried to push her away. Now she also felt jealous of the guy who was with her, sharing something that maybe she had never known to give, but should have offered.

She looked out of the corner of her eyes and saw them talking, seated on the bench. She prayed for them to hurry before their father became nervous and thought to come down to search for them, as she continued tearing up ivy with her fingers, which were getting cold.

The memories of when they were kids—they shared everything— and how much they had lost these unbearable years now came to mind and she felt really sad. Sometimes she thought it was impossible for them to understand each other. They were like night and day.

The shadow of her sister’s silhouette, which covered her feet, pulled her from her thoughts and she saw her friend had already disappeared and her sister gestured for them to leave with her eyes still wet. She carried a piece of paper in her hands, which she folded and stuck in her back pocket. Once they crossed over to the other side of the wall, she asked about it curiously as soon as they were already back on the street.

What did he give you?

I’ll show you later at home. Let’s go. Run.

They started to run back down the alleys and side streets they had come down. They were arriving right at the entrance of the building when they saw their father come out with a scary face.

Can you tell me what you two were still doing on the street? We were worried, he told them in a bad mood.

Nothing, Dad, we had spent a bit of time talking and we went a little too far without realizing.

Without fighting? their father asked, surprised.

We’ve been patching things up, Mikaela responded, passing through the door at his side.

That’s great and about time too.

Their father smiled at them and closed the entrance door behind them. They went up the stairs quickly, so they didn’t have to continue giving explanations.

After going up and entering the room, located on a floor without an elevator, she was out of breath again and went to sit on the sofa, but Mikaela headed to the room they were sharing, and she followed her as fast as she could.

Goodnight, we’re going to bed, since we have to get up early, she told their parents.

Stepping in their room she realized Mikaela was already in pajamas and she wondered how she had put them on so quickly. Her sister looked at her as if she was reading her mind and smiled.

I put them on before under my clothes in case I had to sneak out.

Both of their suitcases were at the foot of each of their beds and the room seemed empty without their pictures and posters on the walls. She put on her pajamas while Mikaela got into bed.

No way don’t think you’re going to bed and that’s it, she protested, annoyed. You have to tell me everything and show me what that alien gave you.

She usually called him that to irritate Mikaela, but tonight it was in a joking way. She knew she would understand, or at least, she wouldn’t take it into account. As much as she had run that night, she had earned that right.

Mikaela smiled and sat up in bed. The clothes she had taken off were at the foot of it. She grabbed her pants and took out the piece of paper, unfolding it carefully. She gave it to her so she could see it. It was a sheet from a sketchbook, maybe something tougher. She was really surprised when she saw what he had drawn. It was a charcoal drawing. There was a girl, pretty similar to Mikaela, dressed in black and with swords similar to Japanese katanas, but as long as the girl’s body, one in each hand and she had them raised over her shoulders crossing them in an ‘x’. The worst was that, behind the girl, there was a huge kind of snake, with the body completely in black except where it seemed to shine along the length of its twisted and raised body above the woman’s head. The only thing that distinguished it with complete clarity were the eyes painted in gold and red, like the way cats’ eyes are, and a forked tongue in red, surrounded by pointy fangs. When she looked at it more closely, she noticed the girl’s eyes were also a fiery red color.

She was surprised by the quality of the drawing. Mikaela was right. Steve had talent.

But what is this? she asked surprised. Honestly, it’s really good.

Mikaela kept staring at the drawing, looking at it intently, each line, each smooth stroke of the charcoal. Then she raised her eyes up slowly to look at her and answered her.

My nightmare, she said, biting her bottom lip nervously like she usually did when she was scared.

But I don’t understand...This is what you dream of?

I dream about that thing trapping me, controlling me, and turning me into it or it into me...then I kill everyone, destroy everything...because I’m the evil on the earth and the world burns in a thousand never-ending fires. The smoke doesn’t let the light from the sun through until I explode, with the world carrying me towards infinity, destroying it into tiny little pieces. It’s what that voice in my head tells me, inside the nightmares. I just want to wake up and not close my eyes...the drugs, the pills, they just turned it into a more distant voice that I almost couldn’t hear. I don’t want that, I don’t want to be that thing, that demon full of hate.

Silent tears were sprouting from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks, and falling on her hand. She pushed the drawing away and hugged her sister, kissing her damp cheek.

Why haven’t you told me about them, silly? They’re just nightmares...

I was scared, I didn’t want to end up in a nuthouse where they wouldn’t understand shit about what’s happening to me. Besides, the pills only work for a while, then it comes back all over again. That demon told me it would kill whoever I told, she grumbled angrily, but I told Steve some time ago and he’s still alive. It’s convinced me to entrust it to you. He says I have to get that demon out of my head and burn the drawing.

"I can’t believe it. That’s why you became his friend, in order to tell someone