Shattered Home

The men lifted their guns at her when she picked up her phone from the counter to dial for an emergency. She froze like a deer in headlights. Her heartbeat was drilling into her body to remind her that she was still alive momentarily.

Slowly putting the phone down, one of them snatched her lifeline, filling the screen with silent bullets. Her legs gave out on her as she collapsed to the ground.

The mess and destruction carried into the kitchen. She couldn't bear to see it. All kitchen tools, utensils, and food all thrown onto the floor and broken.

Chairs smashed into the wall with shreds of glass scattered to the floor from precious plates and glasses hidden in cabinets. Still, Vincent made no appearance.

They moved upstairs with two watching her, and Charlotte wiped the tears that slipped down her cheek in horror. She could hear furniture crashing to the ground in her bedroom and winced when harsh tearing of fabric occurred.

"Do you have contact with Vincent Covington?" the taller man asked with his arms crossed.

Of course, these psychos were for Vincent. She shook her head frantically and lied.

"I don't. Please don't kill me."

"You have witnessed a scene with this man and promptly escaped with him."

Charlotte bit her lip and buried her face in her arms. "I don't know who that is. I never did any of that!"

Someone should have applauded her for her acting, but she couldn't hide the fact that her body was still quivering from the fear of death that was all too real.

Charlotte had been playing with death often lately. The consequences will soon come for her naïve actions.

She wasn't trying to save Vincent's hide, but her own. If she admitted that she was with him, they would torture her for answers she didn't have. The taller man continued to question her while the other was leaning on the wall, completely devoid of any emotion.

"You've come in contact with him once," the man said. "You know, he could have cleared you by sucking your blood."

She remembered a while back that he said he wanted to erase his tracks for people who were not of importance to her, but they were clearly of importance now that they were rummaging through all of her belongings!

Besides that, Vincent had drunk her blood before, but she had never lost her memories just as Vincent had mentioned happened to some. Charlotte lifted her head, and he suddenly leaned down and tilted her face up to look into his shaded eyes. She attempted to pull away, but he grasped her face more strongly.

"Don't touch me," she seethed.

The man slapped her face. Charlotte slid a few inches from the force and cried out. Her face turned to the side, and she clutched her cheek in pain. Blood burst into her mouth, and she spat out the onto the floor instead of swallowing the pain.

"Unfortunately, I don't believe that you don't know where he is, Charlotte Artelier."

The cold kiss of the gun pressed to her forehead as he lightly toyed around with the trigger. Chills ran down her spine. The frightening thought crystalized in her mind.

She was never going to leave unscathed in the first place. These people only had one goal, and it didn't matter to them if she was dead or alive.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Don't kill me. I don't have any answers you are looking for."

The man smiled lightly and horror filled her blood. Charlotte closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She prayed to the heavens to keep her family safe and for them all to live long life.

Silence enveloped the room, and Charlotte fluttered her eyes open. He took the gun back to his side and ran his fingers down her jawline.

These people were not in their right minds to use violence to interrogate, but they didn't seem human either. From their emotionless stare to their words, it was eerie and jarring. They also seem to know clearly what Vincent is.

Whether that is a good or bad thing, she didn't know. They needed to find Vincent. But why? Her head was swimming with incoherent thoughts.

"Don't play around with me, girl," he yelled. "Tell me. Where is he?"

"I don't know!" Charlotte shouted. "Go look somewhere else. I don't know who he is or where he is. Get out of my house!"

The ground shook just as her voice rang through the room, and the walls of the house trembled. Clutching her head, pieces of the ceiling fell to the floor, and the men immediately stood to find the culprit of the huge explosion, frantically staring around the room.

Another bomb went off blowing up all the glass windows. Charlotte covered her head as the glass rained down. The ceiling crumbled, and Charlotte screamed when the ceiling caved onto the man standing by the wall. The other man stared back in shock.

It gave her an opening to try and escape. Charlotte breathed in and steeled herself from the nerves that were eating her inside out. She wasn't going to die if she moved efficiently and quietly.

She couldn't let herself die. She still had so much left to do in life. Her beautiful home which was a haven was no more.

Charlotte grabbed the kitchen knife next to her from their atrocious rampage hidden from view behind the island and lunged, stabbing the taller man's thigh.

Blood bloomed from the wound, and the force of impact made her hand sting and recoil. The man angrily yanked her off his leg and smashed the butt of her gun to her forehead.