Текст книги "Dark reckoning"
Автор книги: J. E. Taylor
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Bill loomed over Jennifer, his hands pushing her thighs. “We get to fuck her until the full moon fills the stain glass window. I figure we have a little over three hours before that happens.” He smiled and with a violent thrust of his hips, buried his member in her, making her scream in pain.
“I’m going to kill you,” Steve growled. “I swear.” He looked at her face. Tears flowed and her teeth clenched in pain as her green eyes locked with his.
“This is nothing compared to what he’ll do to you,” Bill said, pumping hard, his laughter filled the small space.
Steve mumbled under his breath, swearing vengeance, swearing he’d rip each of them apart. None of his whispered words were heard over Jennifer’s cries, each painful sob punctuated with a grunt until Bill moaned and flopped on top of her.
He crawled off, stripping the used condom and dropping it to the floor before slipping his robe back. Picking up the dagger as another fraternity member took his place, he headed in Steve’s direction.
Steve struggled against the bonds and the hand holding his head in place.
Bill squatted in front of Steve. “Next time maybe I’ll fuck her up the ass in memory of Adam. That’s what his plan was,” he laughed and tapped the flat end of the blade on his lips, contemplatively raising an eyebrow. “Actually that’s in my list of to-dos as well.”
Steve’s guttural roar reverberated off the walls, scraping the lining of his throat, and he renewed his thrashing efforts. Sudden, blinding pain gripped his arm and Steve blinked, lowering his gaze to the dagger embedded in his flesh. Jennifer’s protest brought his glance back to her in time for Bill to yank the blade out.
“No!” Jennifer yelled, focused on him instead of the animal assaulting her.
Steve didn’t make a sound. He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them back up when Bill yanked a handful of his hair. The drugs helped to keep the physical pain detached and surreal.
The mental anguish, on the other hand, was beyond his limitations.
The horror of their actions mixed with his own arousal sparked shame and fury to layer one after the other across his chest, pressing down on him until even drawing a breath hurt. Tears continued in a constant stream down his face as he watched the woman he loved raped and ravaged by his fraternity brothers.
Memorizing each depraved act, Steve swore they would never see the halls of justice.
When they’d each had a turn, Jake unchained her and pulled her to the edge of the altar, grasping a handful of her hair to keep her in place. The inside of her thighs and lower back sported ugly red and purple bruises from the repeated assaults.
Jennifer gagged and her hand flew to her mouth, covering it.
“You throw up and he dies,” Jake said, yanking her head back to make sure she had the full view of the next ritual. He nodded toward Bill.
Steve held her gaze, even when Bill placed the tip of the dagger in the middle of one of the round circles near his left clavicle. A calm layer of numbness settled over him dulling the pain, dulling his physical senses and neutralizing his emotions. He’d do anything to protect her, even if it meant dying and as the dagger rose, that’s exactly what he thought was coming.
“I love you,” he whispered and then the dagger pierced his skin. Sharp pain followed, grinding and morphing as Bill pulled the blade out again, leaving a burning bloody path. The room swooned, but Steve clung to consciousness, his jaw tight and his eyes blinking to keep focus.
“Get him off of there,” Jake commanded.
Bill dragged Steve off the pentacle, relinquishing him to Joe.
During the transfer, the rope between Steve’s hands and ankles snapped and he blinked again, inhaling a deep breath at the turn of events. The dagger didn’t hit any major organs. His lungs still worked, his heart still beat and his vision cleared, sharper than before because of the pain but he didn’t emit a sound.
Bill traded the dagger for Jennifer, taking her by the hair and yanking her into the center of the pentacle. “On your knees,” he said.
With the clarity of mind also came waves of murderous images and in each one, Bill played a significant role, his imaginary screams of pain bringing a slight smile to Steve’s lips. Knives and blood trailed in his vision path, blocking out the scene before him—the scene of Jennifer on her knees sucking Bill’s dick while the fraternity brothers chanted an incantation in Latin. As Bill sped up, the incantation reached a crescendo and he barely noticed the goblet pressed to his skin below his bloody wound.
Bill took a step back and Jake pulled the full challis away from Steve’s skin.
* * * *
Of all the emotions snaking in her skin, anger welled to the surface and Jennifer stood on shaky legs and punted. The top of her foot connected with Bill’s balls, doubling him over. His high-pitched scream muffled when her knee slammed into his face, breaking his nose, and she let out a cry worthy of a warrior. Satisfaction, vindication and adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she gathered herself for another blow. Her fist formed a tight ball and cocked back when Jake spoke.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said calmly. Her gaze jumped from Bill’s bloody face to Jake.
The rush in her veins fizzled, coating her skin with a cold sweat that sent shivers straight to her bones. Jake had the tip of the dagger to Steve’s throat. Her fists dropped along with the welling shimmer of hope. When she turned back to Bill, the back of his hand smacked across her cheek and she spun, landing on her hands and knees on the cold floor. Her face throbbed with stinging heat where he connected and her vision blurred through the sudden layer of tears that sprung.
“Clean up that blood,” Jake demanded, and motioned to the drops in the pentacle from Bill’s nose.
Joe tossed her Steve’s shirt and she wiped up the few droplets of blood on the floor. Her eyes kept going back to the tip of the knife against Steve’s throat, a small bead of blood sliding down his skin from the sharp edge. She met his gaze and this time he was fully there, his soul penetrating hers. Pain and failure inscribed in the blue of his irises and she bit her lip, trying to convey to him that this wasn’t his fault. The self-blame and responsibility in his eyes cut her deeper than anything else that had happened. She could deal with the physical abuse, the fear, the pain, even the thought of dying, but seeing the depth of his pain tore her apart.
“Good girl, now toss it out of the circle,” Jake said, pulling her gaze away from Steve.
She tossed the shirt where he pointed.
With the blade still pressed to Steve’s throat, Jake handed the cup to Bill and then pointed to the pentagram, directing Jennifer to the center. “Kneel in the center.”
She shifted and knelt where he told her to, her gaze flitting between the drop of blood slowly cascading down Steve’s throat and his intense stare.
Bill handed the cup to her. “Drink.”
Jennifer gawked at him, her mouth falling askew as her glance fell to the thick burgundy liquid sloshing in the challis. “You, uh, you want me to drink this?” Her voice carried the incredulous tone skittering through her and she turned her head in Steve’s direction. His wide eyes met hers. He glanced from the cup in her hand back to her face.
“I don’t believe I stuttered,” Bill said. “Now drink.”
She stared blankly at him, her mind misfiring. Did he just say to drink Steve’s blood?
“Do you want to see him die right here, right now?” Bill asked, pointing at Steve.
Jennifer brought the cup to her lips. Her hands shook. Tipping the challis, she tasted his blood. It was warm and thick and she forced both the sip and the gag down her throat. She let out a small sob, pulling the cup away from her mouth.
“All of it,” Jake demanded. Bill pushed the cup back to her lips.
Jennifer looked at Steve as she drank, forcing herself to swallow the vile liquid. When she’d finished and dropped the cup, her hands flew to her mouth, covering it. Her entire body shook.
“Don’t throw up, or we’ll poke another hole in your boyfriend here,” Jake said.
Bill picked up the cup. He turned it upside down and let the droplets fall onto Jennifer and the center of the pentacle.
Each droplet that touched the floor sizzled, producing steam that smelled like burning flesh.
Bill stepped away quickly and the outline of the pentacle glowed from a dull light to that of burning embers of a fire, yet Jennifer shivered in the center, her breath coming in plumes of white fog. Cold wrapped around her, caressing her skin, chilling and then the familiar burning touch of the thing in her closet clasped her shoulders, pushing her forward. This time it didn’t stop there, its icy member burned its way inside her and yanked out just as quickly.
Its scream echoed through the small chamber drowning out hers and making everyone cover their ears. With her ears still ringing, the chill receded as quickly as it came and she sat back on her heels, her breath wheezing in her lungs. The pressure on her chest constricted and she forced an inhale, dragging a minimal amount of oxygen in, enough to squeak out a shaky sob.
“Breathe.”
His soft voice pulled her out of her panic and she met his frightened, wide-eyed gaze. Concern layered over the fear and her lungs let up, allowing air to draw in with the smallest of wheezes. Jesus.
“What the hell just happened?” Bill asked Jake.
Jennifer slowly stood in the center of the pentacle, her head hanging low, her hair over her eyes and realization suddenly giving her a new strength, a new hope. She gently moved the hair from her face so she could see Steve. “We hurt it,” she said to him.
He blinked, clearly not understanding how that was possible, but she knew. She caught the anguish in the beast’s cry. She caught the pain and reveled in it. Backing out of the pentacle, she stepped on Steve’s discarded shirt and squatted, picking it up and slipping it on. It fell to her thighs and, despite the spots of tacky drying blood, it made her feel better to be covered up.
Bill glared at her. “You’re just a common whore. We should have hunted you down two years ago. But no, Tom wouldn’t stand for that! What an idiot.”
Jennifer slowly turned to him. “What?”
“Tom wouldn’t let us take you. He brought in some freshman instead and offered her along with his life in return for yours.” Bill shook his head.
Jennifer’s chin quivered, her illusions of her dead fiancé shattered to bits at her feet. “Tom did this?” She waved her hand toward the altar behind her.
“Yes,” Jake answered. “Twice. The second year, he made the deal when you were chosen. He died a couple weeks later.” Jake exchanged a look with Bill. “He loved you,” he added, and looked back at Jennifer.
Jennifer’s face formed into a mask of anger. “Don’t tell me he loved me,” she shouted. “Anybody who does this doesn’t have the faintest idea what love is.” She started to shake again.
Bill looked up at the stained glass window. “Time to go,” he said, interrupting the conversation. He lumbered across the pentacle and reached for her.
No fucking way! She blocked him and sent a roundhouse kick into his ribs.
“Cut the shit!” Jake snapped.
Jennifer shot her gaze in the direction of the voice and deflated. The edge of the blade dug into Steve’s throat, tearing the skin, and another thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. Bill grabbed her by the hair and threw her against the altar, knocking the wind out of her.
He retrieved a length of rope and the box of condoms from behind the stone, slamming the box down next to her as he stood behind her. He grabbed her wrists and tied them behind her back, then pressed his body against her, pushing her further into the hard rock as he reached around and squeezed her breasts. “I could fuck you all night.” He licked her cheek. “Maybe I’ll have time for one more before I leave you to the beast.”
He stepped back, pulling her to him and yanking the shirt higher up her waist. He forced his fingers between her legs. “Oh yeah, I’ll definitely have another for the road.”
She screamed and struggled in his grip. Bill twirled her around and a patch of duct tape that Jake pasted over her lips shut off the noise careening out of her mouth.
Jerked toward the now open doors of the crypt, and the van just beyond, the world swam before Jennifer’s eyes, altering.
A young man, barely eighteen, walked into the clearing with a Polaroid camera. He was fairly good-looking, with blond hair and deep blue eyes. He snapped the picture nonchalantly and stepped back into the woods, waving the picture so it would dry. He looked at the print in his hand and froze. The claws ripped straight through his body, killing him instantly.
Jennifer screamed under the tape, her focus back inside the van. Her eyes darted frantically around until they landed on Steve. Her breath hitched in her chest as she struggled to breathe through her nose.
He leaned against her. “I’m here,” he whispered, calming her a little. The men had shed the robes and put their clothing back on while Jennifer was trapped in her vision and she was thankful.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bill snapped at her and she stared back, concentrating on pulling enough air through her nose so she didn’t pass out.
Steve glared at him as the van rocked over the uneven cemetery path to the lake. “Do you have any idea what the penalty is for killing a federal officer?” he asked, and looked around the van.
No one spoke. They just glanced at each other. Jennifer watched their reaction hoping Steve could find a chink in their armor.
“And New Hampshire does have the death penalty,” Steve remarked.
“Shut up!” Bill roared, and punched Steve in the mouth.
Steve fell back against the door, laughing and spitting blood from his mouth.
Bill rubbed his knuckles. “If they find any trace of either of you, it will be in pieces. And it won’t trace back to us.” He grinned. “It never does.”
“Then why was I planted in your fraternity?” Steve asked, situating himself back on his knees next to Jennifer.
Bill chewed on his lip and looked around the van at the others, his fraternity brothers, partners in crime, and sighed. “Why did they place you undercover?” he finally asked. “Seems to me they sent you on a fishing trip. You have no evidence that directly relates to us.”
Steve smiled. “I have plenty of evidence after today.”
“You won’t live to see the sun rise,” Bill shot back. “So there goes your evidence.”
“Did you know they have surveillance cameras in the apartment complex?” Steve tilted his head, playing his hand outright and Jennifer blinked.
She didn’t even know they had surveillance cameras. That would place Bill at the apartment when Tracy died and show him abducting her. Under the tape, her lips spread into a smile. The bastard wouldn’t get away with this.
Bill sat back. “Bullshit,” he said without conviction.
Steve shrugged. “Think what you want. It is what it is.”
This time no one met his gaze when he looked around. He sat back against the opposite side of the van, silently assessing Steve. “Did you know he was a cop?” he asked her after a few minutes.
Jennifer didn’t acknowledge his question. She didn’t even look in his direction.
Bill grabbed her by the front of the shirt and hauled her across the van. “Did you know?” he asked when her face was directly in front of him.
She narrowed her eyes, meeting his angry glare.
“Leave her alone. She didn’t know at first either,” Steve answered.
“Did Tracy?” Bill asked Jennifer.
She shook her head and Steve voiced her answer.
“No. She was just as clueless as you were.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Bill glared over at Steve and then focused his attention back at her. “You realize Tracy is dead because of you?”
“Bastard!” she hissed behind the tape. Her eyes filled with tears because at some level she knew he spoke the truth.
“I told her I planned to fuck you,” he said. “You should have seen how angry she got.” He grabbed her breast through the shirt, squeezing.
Pain flared as he squeezed and twisted her nipple and she tried to yank away but couldn’t. Bill grabbed her by the hair and let go of the shirt, moving his free hand up her leg. “It was funny,” he said, slamming his fist into her stomach. “She knew you wouldn’t let me touch you willingly.” His hand went between her legs, entering her roughly. “Why is that?”
“Get your hands off her!” Steve yelled in vain.
“Fuck off,” Bill shot over at Steve.
Each painful blow brought her closer to the edge of fury and when he looked away, she took the opportunity to slam her head into his already-broken nose.
“You bitch,” he yelled and slammed her down on the floor of the van, forcing his way between her legs.
Between Steve’s curses and Bill’s mutterings, Jennifer felt the van swerve to the right. In the chaos, she heard Jake yell, “Clean—he wants her clean!” But Bill’s relentless thrusts tore her insides, forcing her breath through her nose and muffled screams from under the tape.
Charlie and Joe hauled him off her.
“Fucking bitch!” he yelled and scuttled away, zipping his jeans back up.
Jennifer rolled onto her side and looked at Steve, tears blurring her vision, mixing with the wetness streaking his face and he tilted his head. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he glanced at Joe. “She’s having tough time breathing. Can you at least take the tape off her mouth?”
Joe looked in the rearview mirror at Jake.
“It doesn’t matter. No one will hear her scream where we’re going.” He gave Joe a nod and he reached forward, ripping the tape from her mouth.
Jennifer gasped, taking great quantity of oxygen in with each draw of breath, Sobs mingled with each wheeze.
“You’ll be dead before the sun comes up,” Bill growled.
Jennifer turned her head away. Sobs ripped through her. She believed Bill—they would not see the sunrise, and he was right.
Chapter 41
The van pulled off the smooth road onto a divot-filled dirt road, stopping a few hundred yards in. Steve traded a glance with Jennifer and the group shuffled out the side of the van, leaving only Jake, Bill and Joe in the back with them.
“Wait up, Stan,” Bill called and shot a glare at Steve. “We’re going to need you to stay with us.”
Steve almost laughed at the nervous twitch those words caused in the lanky sophomore. He moved his gaze back to Bill. “Where’d everyone go?”
“To the camp site,” he said and a smirk appeared. “We have to get her to Black Cove.”
Before Steve could process the significance of the location, Bill grabbed Jennifer and held the dagger to her throat. “Cut his legs loose,” he said to Joe and then turned his gaze to Steve. “If you so much as flinch, I’ll kill her.”
Joe flipped open a switchblade and cut the rope around Steve’s feet.
Standing, he let out a hiss of pain, almost falling back down as his legs cramped. Slowly straightening, he flexed one foot and then the other, stretching the tight muscles in his calves and glaring at Bill. His mind swarmed with escape scenarios. The odds were more favorable with four of them, especially since the drugs had long since filtered through his system. The only problem was the knife against Jennifer’s throat. His gaze locked on hers for the briefest instant before Jake grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Bill and the blade in one smooth move.
Steve got a glimpse of the gun tucked neatly in the back of Jake’s waistband and a flicker of hope flared. One bullet—that’s all he would need to stop this madness.
Jake led the way, dragging Jennifer over the tree roots and sharp underbrush, ignoring her wincing complaints until she stopped and tried to yank away. Bill stepped to intervene, but Jake was quicker and flipped her over his shoulder, carrying her like a sack of concrete.
Even though he was sandwiched between Joe and Stan, Steve used her abrupt diversion to slide the key to his handcuffs out of his pocket, palming it before their attention returned to him. When the line moved forward, Steve said, “At least tell me why.”
“It’s been here since the dawn of time,” Jake began.
Steve snorted. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, certain they only knew half of the information he uncovered just by Jake’s comment.
“The thing you saw in the crypt.”
Steve was quiet for a few paces, sliding the key into the locking mechanism. “You don’t know shit,” he said, turning the key as he spoke to cover up the slight click of the cuffs’ release.
Joe glanced back at Steve. “We know it requires a sacrifice each year in order to keep it within the confines of Black Cove.”
“What a crock of shit,” Steve said. He thought of the little girl found in the woods almost a half mile away from the area they were heading.
Bill spun around. He grabbed Steve by the throat, pulling him close.
“Chill, Bill. He’ll find out soon enough,” Stan said from behind Steve.
Bill let him go and turned back, passing Joe and continuing behind Jake.
Steve didn’t follow immediately. He waited until both Bill and Joe were at least ten paces ahead and then took a couple steps and stumbled, falling on his hands and knees. “Shit,” he mumbled and shuffled to his feet, keeping an eye on Joe as he slid the knife out of his boot, palming it on the inside of his wrist, out of sight. Joe turned away from Steve, following Bill and Jake, chuckling. When Stan pushed him forward, Steve spun, twisting the blade in his grip and burying it through Stan’s larynx and ripping through flesh and arteries in a violent tug. With his free hand, he covered Stan’s mouth, quieting the gurgle. The gaping wound drenched Steve with blood, and he watched the shock in Stan’s eyes transition to death. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed only darkness on the path before him, the curve hiding their presence. He laid Stan carefully on the ground, hurrying to catch up. Stumbling down the path in the direction they’d disappeared, he made enough noise to sound like two people.
It was dark enough that the group wouldn’t have been able to make out Stan even if he’d been there, but it worked both ways. In his rush to catch up, he nearly collided with Joe. He pulled up at the last second when the shadow in front of him turned, revealing a pale face in the darkness.
“Nice trip?” Joe asked, his voice edged with sarcastic humor.
“Fuck you,” Steve said and listened for the front of the pack. Their footfalls were farther along the path, a good ten to fifteen feet, and he focused back on Joe. “Why rape?” he asked.
“It’s part of the initiation,” Joe answered. “Fuck ‘em any-which-way we can and then he gets her.” His voice trembled and Steve heard the distinct sound of a swallow. “When he’s done, they’re usually in pieces.”
He could make out another bend in the path and knew it was now or never. He gripped the knife in both hands. Raising it high in the air, he plunged it into the back of Joe’s neck, severing the spinal cord with a snap that could have been mistaken for a twig. He caught Joe’s limp body before it hit the ground and quietly set him down. With a deep inhale, he yanked the knife from the body. His stomach lurched, but he pushed the sensation aside. He didn’t have time to get sick and he certainly didn’t have time to mourn Joe or examine his actions. He knew that would come later and he’d pay for it in spades, but for now, he had to get Jennifer away from Bill and Jake.
Hustling forward, he slid around the bend just in time to see Jake enter an opening in the woods. He quickly put his hands behind his back with the knife in his grip. He stopped at the opening, taking in the cove. Jennifer was right—this is as desolate and cold as you can get.
Jake threw Jennifer down in the center of the pentacle carved in dead moss, and turned towards the wood line. He pulled the dagger out, tossed it to Bill, and then knelt, putting the sharp edge of his hunting knife to her throat.
“Where are Stan and Joe?” Bill asked, stepping closer to Jennifer.
Steve smiled. “Probably roasting in hell right about now,” he answered, looking squarely at Jake.
Bill threw the dagger and it hit Steve half an inch away from his open wound, sending him back a couple steps. Pain gripped him and he realized too late that his hands and the knife had come into full view, and he lost his element of surprise. “Fuck!”
“No!” Jennifer screamed.
“Do you want her to die right this second?” Jake shouted, gaining Steve’s attention. “Drop the knife and get your ass over here.”
He dropped the knife immediately and reached for the dagger, muttering under his breath.
“Don’t touch that,” Jake warned.
Steve put his hands back down and took a shaky step into the clearing. I should have launched the knife at Bill the minute he stepped into the opening. Fucking idiot!
With every step he took, he silently berated himself. He still had the gun tucked away in his boot holster and he prayed for an opening.
Bill stepped out of reach as Steve approached, and Jake pulled Jennifer back a few feet. “In the center.” He pointed the knife and then brought it back to her throat.
Steve did as he was told, his eyes never leaving Jennifer’s. I promise I’ll get you out of this, even if it’s the last thing I do.
“Kneel.”
He knelt.
Jake nodded for Bill. “If you make a move, I will kill her.”
“That’s getting old,” Steve said, but kept his hands on his knees, digging his nails into the denim as Bill grasped the end of the dagger and yanked it out. Steve blinked and the world spun. Oh shit was his last thought before the world went black.
* * * *
“No! Steve!” Jennifer’s scream echoed on the water. Steve’s limp body tilted backwards onto the moss and she reached for him, but Jake yanked her back. Panic clouded her mind and she struggled in Jake’s grasp, screaming Steve’s name over and over. “Get away from him, you bastard!” she spit when Bill collected blood from the wound.
Bill glared in her direction. “You’re lucky I don’t cut his fucking head off.” He handed the cup to Jake and grabbed Steve’s wrists, dragging him outside the circle surrounding the pentacle. “And while I’d love to do that, I think having him meet the beast is a much better choice. I imagine he’ll do a lot of screaming before he dies.”
She broke away from Jake, spinning and delivering an upper cut that snapped Jake’s head back. He backhanded her, sending her sprawling on the moss. Before she could recover, Jake yanked a handful of her hair and dragged her back toward the center.
Jake ripped her shirt and she swung, fury blinding her and the will to fight, to kill these bastards overrode common sense. She swept Jake’s feet from under him and he landed on his ass. She didn’t wait for him to recover, sending a kick into the side of his head, hoping to break his neck.
Arms grabbed her from behind and she twisted, reaching back and flipping Bill onto the ground at her feet. She stepped back and tripped over the challis, knocking it over. Steve’s blood seeped into the ground and the horror on both Bill’s and Jake’s face made her laugh.
“Run, Jen.”
Steve’s labored voice made her spin, her gaze skimming over him, following his frightened gaze, and landing on the form in the water. Her nightmares flooded her muscles with fear, freezing her in the spot.
“Run,” Steve said, his voice barely a whisper, his vocal cords strangled with fear. He took a deep breath, struggling to his feet. “Run!”
Chapter 42
Steve’s command loosened her paralysis and Jennifer bolted in the opposite direction into the woods, flying within a few feet of where Bill had found his footing. Jake reached for her before, but she knocked his hand away, fleeing from the beast from her nightmares.
The dream surrounded her and she sobbed, the branches cutting her skin more deeply than the dagger had.
She slid to a stop, leaning over and vomiting the foul contents of her stomach on the dark forest floor. She spit and turned back toward the clearing, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her entire frame trembling.
She couldn’t let him die; she had to stop that thing.
Chapter 43
The beast reached Jake first and swatted him like a fly, his claws ripping through skin and bone like a master sword, separating his torso from his legs and sending his top half toward the wood line near Steve.
Steve’s gaze landed on what was left of Jake and snapped to the metal object just short of the brush. He launched toward it, praying the thing wouldn’t attack him next. When his hand swiped the gun from the ground, he spun, aiming in time to see Bill dart toward the path they came in.
The beast caught Bill before he left the crunchy moss. It toyed with him, raking a sharp claw over his back, and Bill screamed.
Its laugh cascaded over the cove, throaty, dark and full of menace. “I promised a painful death.” The beast’s voice scraped out of its throat and into Bill’s ear, and then it tore his arm from his torso.
Bill’s screams continued and Steve stared at the carnage. His stomach dropped and acid lined his throat when the beast disemboweled Bill. Intestines spilled out of the gash along with a torrent of blood. Bill’s scream caught in a gag, bile and blood spewing from his mouth, encircling the now continuous scream. The beast sheared clean through Bill’s leg, tossing the limb aside like a discontented child before dragging a still-screaming Bill under the black water.
Steve stumbled toward the path, but he only got as far as the center of the pentacle before the black shape rose out of the water again. Fear made his heart ram against his chest and each of his wounds throbbed in concert. Black like an oil slick and remotely in the shape of a very large man, its eyes glowed, altering between red, orange, and yellow, just like the embers in a hot fire. Steve’s his mind reeled and he pulled the trigger. The gun jammed and he stared at it for a moment before his gaze snapped back to the thing approaching. “Shit!”
It reached out and hit him, sending him across the clearing. The gun fell onto the ground at the far edge of the wood line.
Steve scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide and darting around the cove until they fell on the dagger. He moved to retrieve it, wrapping his hand around the handle just as the beast came for him. He backed slowly away with the dagger in hand and it stopped in the center of the pentacle.
