Chapter 7 Carwynn #2
A high-pitched screech exploded from its throat as its head swung back and forth in the air.
What the—?
The whip angrily flared in response, digging deeper into my ankle. It flickered—bright enough to illuminate nearby.
And that’s when I saw it . . . the head. Dark hair, held in a vice-like grip by a body. A headless body.
A wet, gaping hole sat where the head should have been. Thick, black fluid oozed from the cavity, dripping down the leathers the body wore.
A gloved hand visibly tightened on the still-swinging head—the same head that was now grimacing.
“Fool!” it seethed. “I’ll enjoyyyy your screammsss for that!”
It leapt forward, knocking the wind from my chest. The weight of the headless body crushed me, straddling my torso.
One gloved hand came up around my throat, pinning me in place.
My hand was still cemented to the ground—Pogue’s vice-like grip locked on mine. But the sight of it was lost to a void of blackness that hid him away like a storm cloud.
What the hell was he doing?
Needle-fangs inched closer.
“Jussssst a tassste . . .” Its tongue swept over its mouth again with a wet, slapping sound.
I squirmed trying to get air back into my lungs but the hand around my throat only squeezed more forcefully.
Suddenly, something slick slid up the side of my neck, moist and cold. Like a nauseatingly grotesque slug. No, not a slug . . . a tongue.
I wanted to light on fire. Wanted to burn every inch of my flesh, to purge the grimy feeling from my body forever.
No, no, no! He was going to bite me!
The tongue slid up to the base of my ear when suddenly—a shadow slammed into its body, launching the creature several feet into the air. It landed with a nauseating crunch. Head smacked the ground, rolling a few paces away.
Pogue.
He could do that?
My cough was strained and gasping as I drew in a full breath. I clutched my throat.
Alive. Not bleeding out.
The creature hissed, headless meat sack rising from the dirt.
My skin started to lightly radiate.
What is that?
I whirled toward Pogue. Through the faint glow, I could see he was still veiled in a cloak of black. Was he speaking to shadows? Maybe that’s what took him so long.
A chill rolled over my skin.
Then, the voices rushed in. They weren’t in my mind anymore. They were nearby—coming from a source.
The whip.
Help us!
Please…
Here! We’re in here! Trapped!
She’s come, our—
A deep growl cut them off.
The hulking body bent, snatching the severed head off the ground. Then its hand rose, unleashing an inferno over Pogue’s shadowed form.
Flames exploded, torching through the forest, illuminating trees with violent fire.
“Show yourself!” it shrieked.
The fire continued to surge, engulfing Pogue entirely.
No!
No one could withstand a force like that. It was an immense, all-consuming power.
My stomach clenched, truth sinking in. He was dead . . . because he tried to save me.
A muffled sob escaped me, followed by a sharp, burning pain that flared up my leg. The whip tightened tenfold, causing a guttural scream to tear from my soul.
Enough!
Tears cascaded down my cheeks. Part pain, part rage.
It had been years since I’d faced death, and now here it was, stalking me again—dragging up every horrific memory I worked so hard to bury.
Death haunted me in my sleep. Swam through my anxieties. Tortured my thoughts. Slowly. Cruelly. Every damn day.
But not anymore. Enough.
I reached down to grab the spiny whip, trying to unwrap it, but it wouldn’t budge. The dagger-like vertebrae were deeply embedded into my flesh, scraping against bone.
Curling my hands around the spines, I closed my eyes, focusing.
I’m here, I told them, taking a shot in the dark.
I imagined that vibrational shield again, and my hands began to thrum—tingling with energy. Eyes still shut, I pushed the vibration into my palms, through the whip, snaking it down along the line of bones.
A completely new sensation filled me. Sparks of life blossomed through my veins.
Warmth spread from my toes, up through my legs, my torso, down my arms, prickling through my hands until—vines.
Thin, twisting green vines began to wrap around the whip, coiling tighter and tighter as they wove up the entire length.
I could feel them constricting, as if my own muscles were mirroring the motion.
The final spiral of vine twisted near my hands. A dark green stem sprouted upward, forming a tight bud. Slowly, it opened to reveal a sharp, vibrant orange flower with the appearance of a hummingbird suckling for nectar.
I recognized it—Bird of Paradise.
Dark tendrils of shadow scurried over the ground, as if watching.
Were those Pogue’s. But he was—? My thoughts cleaved in two as I watched the transforming magic.
With a red flash, the flower and vines vanished into the whip. No, absorbed into it.
The whip suddenly exploded into the air, shattering into countless fragments.
I clutched my chest, feeling the blast ripple through me. And with an exhale, the magic released.
The souls trapped inside the whip were set free. Handfuls of glistening orbs danced above, spinning excitedly through the air.
Free!
We’re free!
I could feel each one’s relief, excitement, euphoria.
But dread swiftly shot through me, realizing they’d actually been trapped. And for how long?
I’d never heard of that being possible. Souls could be lost under certain circumstances of death, sure—but trapped? And inside an object? It was barbaric. Some deep malevolent magic.
A deathly shriek pierced my eardrums as white-bladed teeth flew forward, crunching into my shoulder. My flesh violently tore open, its head thrashing back and forth, cracking bone.
Stars exploded throughout my vision as I was overtaken by sheer agony.
Warm liquid poured down my skin, spilling across my chest.
The sounds—crunching, gulping.
Dying. I was dying.
Again . . .
My body went limp, giving in to the shadow of death, to a darkness sweeping through the forest, coming to collect me.
No. You can’t have me.
My soul rebelled as I mustered what little strength I had and lifted my thumb. Weakly, a slow circle traced over my purple gemstone ring, hoping it wouldn’t be too late.