13. Hunt
Hunt
She’s not a necromancer. She’s a soul-eater.
Looking back, there were obvious tells. It’s not like we have much experience fucking either one.
The signs were there. The ghosts were misleading.
That game didn’t grant her the abilities of that thing it released.
She became it. It’s been growing, fusing to her for the last twelve years.
A transformation that, in this moment, is complete.
Madness knew what she was after he peeked inside her mind. Gator knew what she was after she blacked out. Still, this is not what I expected.
Based on the shocked glances we’re all sending one another, none of us knew just how powerful or dangerous she would become.
The pale blue that’s been spreading across her skin now dominates her complexion.
Coffee-brown eyes have deepened to black voids.
Swirling, pupilless, and inhuman. There’s a foggy depth to her gaze, so different from my glassy eyes.
A depth that could drag you into a place there’s no coming back from.
Drag you in, exactly the way she’s dragging souls to her right now.
Every ghost in a twenty-foot radius gets sucked straight into Githany’s orbit.
Her mouth widens, jaw unhinging until the bottom of her chin reaches the center of her bare chest. The wailing spirits are funneled between her gaping lips.
A vortex of souls disappearing into the belly of our newly released beast.
The ghosts are merely appetizers. I can see the disappointment in her dark gaze as she finishes every spirit in the room. She needs more than the dead can give her. She’ll be craving the living.
“We need a plan.” I keep my voice low in an attempt to avoid Githany’s attention.
“More like a fucking exorcist.” Gator is grinning. His tongue swipes across his lower lip. “I’ll bet she can regenerate limbs.”
Asshole. Githany is about to massacre this entire city and he’s indulging in fantasies about biting off her arm in the bedroom.
“Madness.”
“We know, we know. Githany is about to go full devil. What do you want us to do?”
“Distract her. We may have to sedate her until we can get her somewhere isolated.”
“There’s no time for that.” Githany’s voice snags all of our attention. Elegant fingers with nails like knives reach toward the nearest wall. Her body shakes. The walls tremble.
With a primal shriek, the room implodes. As the rubble clears, the Reaper’s Playroom ticket line comes into focus. Dozens of terrified haunted-house customers gape at the newly formed hole in the outer wall. Githany just ripped through our domains and tore an opening into the real world.
“We should stop her.” It’s a logical thought. I speak the words, but take no action to do so. I’m too hypnotized by Githany. Her movements, slow and powerful. She strides into the night like a deity, arms outstretched, jaw hanging wide.
The world moves in slow motion, her blue glow like an angel’s light. The deepest, most earth-rattling growl I’ve experienced in all my time amongst the damned thunders out of her.
The bodies start flying.
She sucks in the first group of four guests and all three employees without a fight.
Their deaths are mercifully fast. The rest are hauled to her from inside the haunted house and outside the building.
Bodies launch through open doorways and crash through walls.
Mangled, screaming. The trail of humans grows until they’re circling above Githany, broken bodies soaring around her as she slurps up one and then the next, making her way through every person.
There are dozens, maybe hundreds of victims. I’m starstruck. Too stunned to move. All three of us stand there, admiring our vicious little monster.
This is not like anything I’ve encountered.
It takes more than an hour for Githany to get her fill.
The final few bodies are completely pulverized by the time they sink into her open mouth.
Who knows how far her power reached? Did they come from miles or towns away?
Fragments of metal and wood jut from their skeletons.
She’s pulled them through homes, cars, trees, walls.
I’m mesmerized by the magnitude of her strength, ready to fall on my knees and kiss her bloody feet.
An eerie silence dwells over the ruins of Reaper’s Playroom. I can’t detect a single living being anywhere nearby. The three of us remain still, sharing in our shock and awe of the woman we’ve chosen to make ours.
Githany turns, laying a hand on her stomach. “I think I overate.”