34. Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Spawn
Blood.
BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD.
Give it to me!
Every fucking drop—it's mine!
The brute shouts then swings to knock me back. I jerk the blade from his gut and slash again as crimson pours and soaks into his towel.
Bile's potent sour-scent saturates the air.
It's rancid against the sweet coppery twang of blood I'm ravenous for.
Mixing with a chemical blanket of unnatural fragrances the girl sprays throughout the room when she slaves over its tidiness.
I'm going to ruin it; spray his life force over every surface until all coated in delicious metallic blood.
Poor fool’s the perfect sacrifice.
Decades of hiding in the husk of other women are coming to an end. Every death I've lived through has felt like a snake shedding its skin.
Until today.
I'm finally beyond the Puritans’ spiritual shackles. They can no longer bind me to an existence inside the bodies of young girls too weak to fight and who know no better.
Won’t be long now before I’ll feel Earth’s grit beneath my feet.
This one’s strong, much stronger than the ones in the past, but her will is fizzling like a dying flame.
We will split her body apart then step separately from her flesh, bathe in wickedness, pervert the masses, and punish those who pray for salvation.
God's faithful men are on the cusp of annihilation—we simply must breach the veil, stab our claws into them, and shred their false righteousness from the bone. This wretched girl is the gateway, our conduit, the last in a long line of inferior devotees.
"Y...you insane bitch," her mortal lover moans then splutters.
Grim-coated hands hold pressure to the holes in his torso. Not the usual location to bleed an offering dry, but after years of battling this male, watching him die slowly and painfully is an opportunity I couldn't pass up.
Prowling around him, Sadie’s deadly-cold grip keeps the knife fisted. I can smell fear waft off of him in crashing waves of despair. Who he's more terrified for, himself or her, has yet to be determined.
Poor, pitiful, male.
He was too wrapped in obsession and his stomach’s churning need to protect and save a girl who was marked long ago. He pulled her back from plummeting before, but this time, he will not be so successful.
Her mind's already splintered and far too gone to mend. Herbs and chants won't reverse it; animal sacrifices, curses, wishing upon stars long since dead—nothing will save her.
Curling lips bare teeth far whiter and smoother than my own, nestled perfectly in their pink fleshy homes, roots holding them snug as the grin taunts this stuck pig.
"You just going to stand there and gawk or give me something to stuff this so I don't die in this goddamn apartment?"
"No." My response is short, and as sharp as the blade in our hand.
"What...what the fuck did you say?"
No need to play stupid, mortal.
Tilting the girl's nose into the air, breaths heave in and out of her sad excuse for lungs. The essence of his escaping soul drags through her sensitive nostrils as more and more of him billows from his pooling blood.
I want to taste him, to lick the red clean off his flesh and dip my tongue into the hole I've created.
Coming closer, he visibly recoils. Deep in the girl's belly, a bubble rolls and rises until the thing creeps out of our shared throat and escapes in a head tilting cackle.
We jolt at him as our laugh tapers off. He does the same and stumbles backward through the still open door where he crashes against the vanity. Loud drops of blood splash onto the steam-slick floor, making a gory slide that nearly sweeps his feet out from under him.
Time's ticking; he better seal that gaping wound in his gut before he passes out.
Or worse.
The world’s warmer now, much more than when I inhabited my own body. Bitter cold winters used to hit the bone while summers were humid yet villagers barely sweat—a different time, another life. Now, the air clings like the thickest gruel. Suffocating as you wade through it.
An early summer storm has drenched the land, having brought in the fading scent of wildflowers and the pure musk of soil. I can smell it before I breach the doors.
Outside, automobiles whip down the streets.
Running through droves of puddles that splash rain water across the road and onto the paved walkways—draining in a rush.
In the distance, thunder rolls with muted sparks of lightning flashing through the sky.
Trying as it may to wash away the sins of man.
Now every immorality has accumulated in small pools where they loiter for the right pair of pant legs of those who step without care.
I want to run and chase.
Maul and maim.
Seek. Destroy. Conquer. Kill. Feel. Bite. Taste. Rip skin from bone. I want to bathe in excrement, then march this beauty to a slab for offering.
One naked foot after the other, soft fleshy-slaps snap along wet walkways as we seek out the unknown.
A stench like no other wafts through the air, calling to me. It's mottled, sour, a delicious rot—perfect for withering my teeth to the jaw.
Our nose leads the way, past windows where we sneak a glimpse at the girl's untamed appearance. Barefooted, hair in knots, and clothes ready to fall off her malnourished frame.
Knocked to the side, our skull cracks against a rain-streaked window pane when another body crashes into us.
Opportunity brings the nastiest grin to our face. In a flash, we grab, bite, and rip as a ghastly scream curdles from a delicious throat.