fic! freaky future AU fic!

[holli]

Two weeks she's managed to keep herself hidden, two weeks of dark and hiding and blood freezing in her veins every time she hears a patrol. Two weeks, and no time to grieve for her mother, no time, she thinks, for Jamie to even understand what's happened. Chrissie hopes he doesn't figure it out for a while yet-- he's only nine, poor baby, though he'd hate to hear her say it. Mom told her to keep him safe, and she does her best, but in this world two weeks is better than she expected to get.

The last of the glamours wore off five days ago. Since then, she hasn't let Jamie leave their latest bolt-hole, a place in the basement of a mostly-abandoned building, next to the boiler. It's warm, and dry enough, and he's safe there. He feels safe when she's there, or so he tells her, and that's the best she can do.

When she has to, Chrissie goes out at night, keeps her hood up and her hair in her face. Barely manageable on the best days, her hair has transmuted and gone dreadlocky after two weeks without a shower. All the better to hide behind, as far as Chrissie's concerned. In the dark, her face hidden, Chrissie looks like just another of the countless street kids in this district. The patrols, terrifying as they are, hardly notice her. She's grateful for it-- she'd much rather be a nonentity than someone of interest to them.

Last night, waiting in an alley for a group of rowdy kids to pass, the unreality of it all struck her like fists, left her winded. Two weeks ago-- two weeks ago, she'd been in the kitchen, listening to music and doing her homework, only half aware that someone'd knocked at the door. She'd flipped the monitor on the wall, seen the grainy picture of of patrollers and frozen. Could be nothing, could be they hadn't been found out. But.

Her mother had rushed in, pushing a protesting Jamie before her. She'd shoved all the glamours they had into Chrissie's hands, and a wad of cash, and as the knocking turned into pounding turned into the unmistakable sound of someone kicking down the door, she'd ordered Chrissie to run. "Take the back stair. Keep hidden. Keep your brother safe. Baby, I love you--"

And she'd pushed them out the back entrance. Halfway down the stairs, Chrissie hear the door crash in, heard her mother scream, but she didn't stop. She pushed Jamie before her, ran until the stitch in her side threatened to become a full-blown seam. Kept hidden. Kept Jamie safe.

Chrissie didn't hear shots as they fled their apartment. She hopes her mother died there, though. Better that than burning. Bad enough to be exposed, caught as a non-human, but a demon who'd tried to hide behind magic? Better to die in her home than in front of the crowd.

Chrissie keeps an eye on the news, when she can. Mostly, that means fishing papers and vidsheets our of the trash, so her knowlege of current events is spotty. She hasn't seen any reports of a she-demon burned, of her escaped spawn, but that doesn't mean they don't exist.

Chrissie turned fifteen three days ago. There wasn't much to celebrate-- the patrollers didn't burn me at the stake another year, yay-- but Jamie sang her "Happy Birthday" anyway.

Chrissie's fifteen, and so of course the injustice of it all makes her want to cry, and scream, and maybe hit something. We're only a quarter demon! she wants to say, though she has no one to say it to. Mom was only half! We only needed a tiny glamour to look normal!

If she had anyone to ask, Chrissie would want to know why the world is like this. Her mother remembered a time Before, though she was very young, and even then she had to keep hidden. But then-- okay, if you got found out, maybe an angry mob would show up with torches and pitchforks. But it wasn't official. Witches and werewolves and demons weren't burned on live TV, because nobody thought they were real.

There are other things the world still doesn't think is real. Chrissie's been dreaming about them, these last few nights.

Comments

[debg.livejournal.com]

Whoa.

This is beautiful, and extremely dark.

There's a movie (nothing about demons) made in the sixties, a scifi thing called "Quatermass", that you ought to see. It's got blank-faced mobs. Your story isn't anything like it, but it evoked it for me. Which is good, because I adore "Quatermass" and so far, adoring this story.