Chapter 5 #3
Panicked beyond reason, he pulled the trigger on his pistol. A bright burst of muzzle fire lit up the space in front of us as the crack of gunfire hit my ears with the force of a cannonball. Then he pulled it again. And again…and again. Over and over.
Until finally, when he pulled the trigger, there was only the sound of impotent clicks.
“Did I hit it?” The bastard’s voice shook just as hard as his hands.
The answer came a second later, when something hit the Jeep with incredible force, sending it tumbling across the field, end over end, and crumpling the metal frame like a piece of tissue paper.
“Let her go.”
Holy shit. I’d never heard a voice like that—as deep and rumbly as the lowest strings on a bass guitar and as forceful as a damn freight train.
In response, Franklin started mumbling behind me. Things like “this can’t be happening,” and “the Lord is my shepherd.” But the one thing he didn’t do was release his hold on me. If anything, his grip on me only tightened.
“Let. Her. Go.”
Behind me, I felt Franklin’s pants grow warm and wet, and I gagged as the stench of hot ammonia filled the air.
“F-Fuck this,” he sputtered against my ear before thrusting me forward, into the darkness and toward the monster. Using me as a distraction, he turned tail and started running.
My legs, still not recovered from my escape attempt, buckled after just a few steps, and I landed in a heap on something soft. Looking down, I realized it was the bundle of clothes that hid my camera. Miraculously, I could feel it in there, still in one piece.
Not that it mattered since I was clearly going to be dead in just a few seconds. Steeling myself for vicious animal attack, I curled myself into a ball around the bundle, trying to shield my vital organs as best I could.
But the creature wasn’t interested in me—not yet, at least.
I felt a powerful gust of wind whip by me as the beast took off after Franklin.
Judging by the screams, it didn’t take long for him to catch up.
I closed my eyes, keeping my head down and my hands firmly tucked around the back of my neck as wails of fear turned to shrieks of agony. Some of them so loud and high-pitched they sent shivers through my soul.
On and on they went. Animal roars of rage, followed by crunching bone and the gory wrench of flesh.
Something whistled through the wind before landing with a heavy thwap a few feet ahead. Drops of thick splatter, warm and wet, sprayed my face and arms.
After that, there were no screams. No wails. No cries. Just agonizing silence as second after second ticked by.
I lay there shivering, refusing to look up. Determined not to open my eyes. Determined not to see death making his way back to me.
But as it turned out, I didn’t have to see it.
I felt it.
The beast was so heavy that his footsteps shook the ground as he got closer, the vibrations running through the earth, causing the dust to dance against my arms.
I stayed there, frozen for what felt like eternity, wondering if each breath would be my last, before the thing spoke again.
“Hannah.”
My name. It said my name. I didn’t even know the ferus could speak before this. How the hell did it know my name?
Was this some kind of sick joke? The monster’s way of playing with his food? Did they only find a kill satisfying if they toyed with their prey first?
Or maybe this was just another horrible dream. Maybe I was still curled up on the small bed above the tavern, fast asleep, and this was just my mind’s new way of torturing me.
Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could force myself to wake up.
If I could just push past the pure terror and open my eyes.
I only managed to crack my lids open a sliver…but it was enough.
There was no bed beneath me, just the cold, hard ground. No walls, just the open air.
And standing there at my feet was the most frightening creature on the planet.
I didn’t see his face. I didn’t have to.
Just a glimpse of leather-clad legs...and a thick, blood-drenched fist gripping Franklin’s severed head. His slack jaw hung open, and his vacant eyes shone in the faint moonlight.
Panic surged through me.
I tried to spring myself up, desperate to run for my life, but my injured legs refused to cooperate. Instead of bolting away, I ended up flopping like a landed fish on the ground, impotently thrashing against the dust beneath me.
“Hannah.”
He let go of Franklin, and the head dropped to the ground, rolling toward me.
I screamed and, with one final burst of energy, threw myself back as far as I could from the bloody claws, sharp and vicious, reaching out for me…right into one of the giant stumps peppering the landscape.
The back of my head thwacked against the hardwood. My ears rang. For a second, a bright light lit up my field of vision, then a creeping black fog pushed in, taking over. My head spun, and my stomach twisted as the world around me dimmed.
And the last thought that fluttered through my head before the darkness swallowed me whole was how grateful I was for the tree stump. Because of it, I wouldn’t have to be awake for my own death.