I’m Glad You’re Dead (The Preternatural Chronicles Book 1) Page 22

  “Feeling weak, are you? You’ll be tickled to know that I had the cuffs made special for you. A little iron, a little silver, and a touch of holy magic,” he said, letting the light fade form his palm.

  “You can do holy magic too? Whose dick did you suck to learn that?” I asked while removing the key and moving it to the other cuff.

  His smile grew, the corners of his mouth disappearing under the black mask. “I stole it from your priest. Now, pray tell, why did your Father Thomes Philseep have a special pair of handcuffs made specifically for you?”

  “Did you hurt him?” I asked flatly, feeling my head swirl.

  “What? Did I kill your only means of redemption in the eyes of God?” He let my chin drop and stood up, clapping his hands together gleefully. “What would you do if I did?” He said without humor.

  I looked up with a scowl that hurt my face. Tears brimmed in my eyes, threating to blind me. I forcibly shook my head, making them fall away to the ground and let sorrow be replaced with a building fury. There was no way in Hell I was about to let Locke see me weep.

  Locke’s smile had faded as another click rang out.

  “Kill you,” I whispered in answer to his question as the cuffs fell from my wrists.

  With the blessed metals off of my skin, I let my predator side take full control of the wheel. Everything was in slow motion but my mind was sharp and overclocked.

  In one swift motion I half stood, half levitated to my feet in front of a shocked Locke. I grabbed him by the throat and pulled him close. My teeth pierced his neck without preamble and I tried to inhale as much of his blood as I could before I was, presumably, gunned down, set on fire, or whatever horrors he had waiting for me.

  In my single-minded focus of relieving Locke of his pesky blood, I failed to notice the palm of his hand creeping up to rest on my chest. With a grimace, Locke uttered a command word and a massive wave of force crashed into my sternum and threw me back so far, that I crashed into the outer wall of the warehouse. Chunks of cement rained down all around me. As I rebounded and hit the ground face first, I was kindly made aware that my breast bone had been effectively turned into shards of broken glass and sand. I tried to push myself up but my pectoral muscles had nothing to attach to anymore. Blood drooled out of my mouth and I was vaguely aware that it was flowing much more freely than possible, even for having just ate. My lungs must be punctured and were hemorrhaging.

  All this took a backseat to the elation I felt coursing through the pipeline of my arterial system. His blood was old and powerful. I didn’t even have to focus on my sunken chest for it to start healing. The crimson elixir carried with it such immense energy that I could barely focus.

  My sternum popped audibly, filling in again. The muscles knitted themselves back into bone and my lungs sealed. I moaned with half pain, half pleasure.

  Whole, once again, I looked up from where I was now able to push myself up and I immediately locked onto my attacker. He was thrown back equally from the shockwave and had just regained his footing. Locke’s mask was shattered and was falling away from his face, revealing grotesque burn scars that reminded me of The Hound character in Game of Thrones; or like the Phantom of the Opera, depending on your taste and sophistication.

  He was shambling away while holding his neck with both hands. His feet barely adhered to his commands to walk and his knees tried to buckle. My predator side felt the inescapable urge to chase after our wounded prey.

  I pushed myself back onto my haunches and then launched into the air, fracturing the stone floor. My black Frankenstein’s monster of a coat billowed from the friction of piercing the air with preternatural speed.

  I was about to wrap my hands around Locke’s neck and tackle him to the ground, when an unseen force smashed into the center of my back like a ten-ton garbage truck being dropped from the Empire State building. I felt claws pierce my flesh as we cratered into the ground.

  I turned my head to see a slim demon with skin that smoldered like a dying ember. The black, leather skin glowed with differing colors of hellfire that roamed over his flesh with perfect symmetry, like a living kaleidoscope. His appendages were too long for his body and were covered in ropey muscle that had a roadmap of veins tunneling in all directions. At the end of his limbs were bird like talons with thick, sharp bones sticking out like claws.

  My eyes drifted further and I could see he was devoid of horns or tusks like most demons I had encountered. He had a normal sized mouth which was curled in a grimace of anger, showing one row of slightly serrated teeth on both his top and lower jaws. There were two slits where a nose would have been with slightly protruding skin flaps that flailed with each breath, akin to a horse’s nostrils.

  Above that was… nothing. He had no eyes or even indentions where eye sockets would be. It was as if his forehead and nose slits decided to cut out the middle man and meet in the middle of his face.

  Even without having any eyes, I was uncomfortably aware that he was staring right at me. Assessing his prey like a vulture trying to decide if the carrion had marinated in the sun long enough.

  I heard a warehouse door burst open and then slam shut as Locke fled. He was weak and I needed to finish this.

  The eyeless demon lifted one of his talon feet and moved it up toward my neck. I pushed myself in a half circle with my left hand, which threw the beast off center, forcing him to let go.

  Knowing one of the best ways to kill a demon was to decapitate it, I threw my blood-whip out and around its neck, forcing razers along its length. As I got to my feet in a swift motion, I pulled with immense force and spun in a circle, losing my balance.

  The demon had vanished right before my eyes, leaving my whip in mid-air, holding nothing.

  A flash of white stars erupted in my vision as the beast coalesced next to me and swiped at my head with talon hands. Warm liquid raced its way down my neck and into my shirt and coat. Instinctively, I lashed out with my arm, where I hit only air.

  Claws smashed into my left calf and threw me in a complete circle, forcing me to hit the ground with my ankle and then tumble to the ground. My left leg below the knee was numb. I could feel blood seeping into my other pant leg.

  “Shit,” I said to myself, knowing things weren’t looking good for ol’ John boy.

  I had to think of something before I was torn apart. My eyes darted around me to try and find something, anything. My gaze locked onto Depweg who had his hands in front of him as he was undoing the last cuff lock. I had made damn sure to put the key in his hands before I attacked Locke.

  Depweg looked at me and nodded. I mirrored the action as a plan came to mind.

  Letting myself drop my head, I started crying out, “I give up. Please, no more!”

  At this, the demon appeared in front of me as if walking into the light from the shadows.

  I laid it on thick. “Please, benevolent one, show me mercy!” I wailed with hands outstretched in a submissive, begging posture.

  The beast stood in front of me and cocked his head to the side, confused. A hand wrapped around my throat and lifted effortlessly. I was hanging, tip-toes grazing the ground. His other hand pulled back at chest level, ready to spring forward and rip my heart and probably spine out. As his arm reached the precipice and was about to launch forward, a silver kukri blade pierced through his chest, severing his heart.

  His grasp weakened on my neck and I dropped to the ground, trying to land on my feet. My left leg refused to cooperate and I fell over, breaking my fall with my hands. I looked up to see one of Depweg’s lunch-box hands pushing down on the demon’s shoulder while his knife-hand forced the blade upwards, cutting through bone and organs with relative ease. Black blood spilled out of the demon’s mouth and nose slits as he jerked with quickening, minute shudders. It was like he was being electrocuted.

  “Hey, Bennett,” Depweg whispered into the demon’s ear hole. “Let off some steam.”

  The vulture beast’s glowing skin coalesced into a singular mi
xture of color and enveloped his entire body like a primed charcoal ready to cook its own meat. With a few more spasms, he dissolved into ectoplasm and sloshed to the ground.

  Depweg stepped over the puddle where I was laying and extended a hand.

  “Did you like that thing I said?” Depweg asked, proud of himself.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him the quote was off by a tad, and that it didn’t really fit the situation.

  “Oh, yes,” I said, emphatically nodding my head while simultaneously wincing from my wounds. I noticed I couldn’t heal them. “The bastard infused his claws with hellfire, man. Shit’s gonna take some time to heal.”

  “Why didn’t the attacks cauterize the wounds?” Depweg asked, bringing up an excellent point that reddit users would blast me on if I didn’t cover that base.

  “Asshole knew what he was doing. Locke planned this out and told him vamps are weak to hellfire. He used enough to prevent me from healing, but held back so I would bleed out. Clever girl.”

  “What should we do?” Depweg asked.

  “Locke is hurt. We need to finish him,” I said as I started limping to the exit Locke had escaped through.

  “You’re hurt too, in case you had neglected to notice.” Depweg said with more concern in his voice than reproach.

  “I ain’t got time to bleed,” I said with my best Jesse Ventura impression.

  “Question: what if you created tissue around the wound. I mean, looks pretty deep, wouldn’t that contain the blood?” Depweg asked.

  “Why don’t you shut up?” I asked, while mentally smacking myself in the head. “Hey, what’s that over there?” Depweg’s gaze followed my finger as I pointed into the darkness. While his attention was diverted, I told my skin to form a temporary cover to keep my precious blood from leaking.

  Depweg turned back to face me.

  “Must have been a squirrel or somethin’. Anywho, we ready to burst through this door?”

  The corner of Depweg’s mouth curled up in a smirk as he noticed I wasn’t trailing a crimson shadow anymore.

  “Go on ahead. I’m going to slip into something more, terrifying.” He finished with a fanged smile.

  I nodded in agreement before pressing my shoulder against the emergency exit Locke had fled through, where I was met by a fireball the size of a Lilith damned basketball.

  It exploded on the wall just as I passed through the doorway and burned the shit out of the back of my head and left shoulder. I dropped to the ground, cursing about my duster which hung loosely off my back now and beanie which fell to the ground on fire. I quickly scanned the area around me and found Locke who was conjuring another fireball, though he seemed to be on wobbly legs.

  Letting my coat drop to the ground, I crafted a spear from the blood that I willed through my palm, took aim, and lobbed it right at Locke. He was so intent on his creation with cords sticking out of his neck and teeth bared in a grimace, that he didn’t even notice as the spear flew toward him. It pierced his right quad, causing him to drop the ball of fire which exploded at his feet, throwing him backwards and setting his pants ablaze.

  I dropped to one knee, having just lost the energy from the blood-spear. After a moment, I regained my mental breath and stood again, right as Locke patted the last of the flames out. Leaning forward, I commanded my legs to start running toward where my enemy was attempting to get back to his feet.

  Urgency invigorated my body and mind as Locke put his feet under him in a crouch position, almost standing. My feet started moving at preternatural speed, albeit with more faith than motor function in my left leg. I knew if I flexed my thigh at the right time, my knee would straighten and my foot would (hopefully) find purchase on the ground. I crossed the distance between the warehouse and the edge of the parking lot where a demolished landscape was being prepped for another building.

  Locke turned his head and saw me coming. Dirt that covered the concrete parking lot whipped up like a train through a snow bank. My fangs were bared, my fingers sprouted blood-claws, the purple in my eyes dulled to a blood red. Surprise exploded in his face which was immediately replaced with focus. Locke rolled to his side, falling belly up, right as I leapt toward him with claws outstretched.

  Locke threw his open palms at my torso as I flew just over him, my hands raking over his sternum, rending flesh. An unseen wave of energy slammed into me and threw my body toward the full-moon overhead. Wind tore at my hair and clothes, threatening to deafen me by whistling into my ears.

  At the precipice of the ascent, I regained my senses enough to realize my insides were on the outside. They hung in the air around me and attempted to flee in all directions after a life-long prison stint inside my body. As I began to fall, I grabbed my innards and pulled them in hand over hand until a big ball of guts was cradled in my arms, like a defiant extension cord.

  As I neared the ground, I pushed the ball-o-intestines back into my chest cavity and concentrated on my stomach knitting itself closed. I landed on my feet right as I finished, the jolt of the sudden stop testing my handiwork. It held but I knew I was going to have to go back in later and straighten everything up.

  A deafening roar that shook the very ground I stood on bellowed from behind me, followed by a pillar of fire that struck my back between the shoulder blades. I was launched forward into the construction site like a flaming meteor. An embankment of dirt and rocks broke my fall, splintering bones and lacerating skin. As if remembering a dream while it fought to escape, I took note that either the fire or my weakness prevented my skin from holding together against the pointed debris of the dirt hill. Oh, the lessons we learn.

  The smell of burning flesh invaded my nose and I became aware the fire had moved down my back and was threatening to burn my ass off. Panicking, I rolled in the dirt to put the flames out. I was rewarded with the giddy laughter of Locke from behind.

  While my back rested on the dirt, I lifted my head to see a giant flame dragon, pulsating with waves of blue, white, green, orange, and red flames.

  Locke was approaching just behind the flame-dragon, balls of light forming in either outstretched hand.

  My jaw clenched and my teeth held a protest that they might break if conditions continued. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, palms down in the dirt. As Locke and his pet drew closer, I willed my blood into the mound and spread outwards like a giant bowl.

  “Knock, knock,” I said to Locke.

  Puzzlement showed on his face as his scarred head tilted to the side. The dragon mirrored his movements.

  “Who’s… there?” Locke asked, confounded.

  “Shards of rock,” I said with a devilish smile.

  Locke stopped in his tracks, realization spreading over his face. He pointed his hands toward me, palms out, right as I sent all my focus and sheer willpower into the dirt mound. The blood acting like a catapult, exploding up and over my head, sending debris hurling in the general direction of Locke and his pet, Puff the Magic Dragon.

  Locke screamed with as much surprise as anger as the wall flew toward him. His hands clapped together and a cone of flame shot out in front of him. Dirt was thrown back at me as rocks melted and fell with the force of the flame spout. My tactic worked, however, and Locke was swallowed whole by the sheer mass of the debris.

  With the combination of Locke’s focus shifting and the rocks and wet dirt hitting the dragon with enough force to collapse a house, Puff went out like a candle wick in a hurricane.

  The tidal wave of dirt crested and broke, sending debris tumbling into the warehouse parking lot. A few spinning, bouncing rocks hit the warehouse exterior. Puff was no more and Locke was crushed and buried.

  Exhausted, I let my chin hit my chest and closed my eyes. I was starting to feel every bump, bruise, broken bone, and skin tear. I knew I was going to have to feed to heal all my grievous wounds. The hunger was already growing uncontrollable inside me. I was also super looking forward to letting someone cut me open and rearrange my waterslide. My hands
went down to my bulging stomach and I cradled my protruding guts like a pregnant woman.

  “Neat,” I let out with a tired sigh.

  The ground in front of me exploded. Razor sharp rocks and bulbous stone smashed into me as I flew, cutting deep gashes and breaking even more bones. I was thrown back and down the other side of the mound I was perched upon, hitting even more debris as I tumbled tits over feet, like a human slinky. For some reason the thought of me laughing at YouTube videos of skiers tumbling down a mountain shot through my mind.

  I landed in the mulched earth hard enough to create a crater; I was getting really good at that. Dirt flew in all directions in a circle around me. Little pale bugs swam in my blackened vision as my brain tried to reboot.

  A pinprick of light appeared in the center of my existence and slowly spread, bringing with it a growing pain that told me I wasn’t dead yet. More dead. Deader. I wasn’t deader yet.

  A long, drawn out moan escaped my mouth as my brain came back online and I tried to move.

  The dirt was cool against my face. My fingers pressed into the earth as I tried to push my limp, drained body up, desperately seeking to get any air into my lungs out of pure reflex. After several moments, my diaphragm relaxed and I inhaled so loudly and ferociously, that it sounded like a train had just barreled from my face.

  A cloud of blood erupted from my gaping mouth as I posted myself up on unstable, exhausted knees. My crimson life force joined the pools of others that were scattered around. The ashen ground beneath distorted like a kaleidoscope as my head attempted to reboot. There was the smell of my own seared flesh that began at the top of my skull and continued down the back of my broken, and all but useless, body. I couldn’t feel the pain of the burn, which I knew was probably not a good thing. Probably.