Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
My struggle takes me to my knees as I claw at the earth, trying to pull myself even an inch, but my body won’t allow it.
“Seth!” I turn to him, and his gaze meets mine as tears well in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Brad,” Seth says before turning back to the fire.
“I’ll never forgive you for this!”
But he doesn’t reply, and when I look back to the fire, I see Luke’s victim has finally stopped moving, and Luke looks as though he’s been painted black.
Just like in the vision.
His haunting, strained cry fades with the flame, until both cease.
“Seth, let me go! Let me go now!”
“You can go to him,” he says. “I’ll call the police.”
The release from this psychological bondage clicks. I crawl to my feet, but then get quickly back on my knees as I reach Luke’s charred body, now lying on top of a pile of ashes the monster has become.
Luke’s body’s a fit of shivers. I want to grab him, to hold him, but I don’t want to cause him any more pain than he’s already in.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, tears streaming down my face.
This can’t be!
Not my beautiful Luke.
His chin shakes, and he opens his mouth like he’s trying to say something, but all that comes out is a choking sound.
“No, God no!” I cry out.
Is this really how we end?
I refuse to believe it! I refuse to lose him.
27
LUKE
Am I dead?
Is this darkness the afterlife?
I vaguely recall bright white lights and faces—maybe the light was heaven and the faces were angels. If that’s the case, why haven’t I seen Mom or Dad?
And why do I keep hearing Brad’s voice?
I still hear it now, calling to me, and my eyes flit open.
The light’s so intense, it takes me a few moments of blinking and wincing to adjust before I can scan the room. I’m lying on a bed with rails along the side, a TV mounted on the wall across from me. Brad sits in a chair next to the bed, reading out loud from a book.
It comes to me—I’m in a hospital room, and while I can’t recall being here before, I have a feeling I’ve seen it, maybe coming in and out of consciousness.
I run back through the moment I followed the light in the woods to Brad and Seth, who were confronting the Slasher. I knew what it would do to them. And though I’d only just discovered this power, I had to believe my instinct was right—I had to use it to destroy the monster.
As I charged, this primal instinct, a connection to the Rift, moved through me.
Then there was the fire.
Blinding, excruciating fire.
Like nails driving into each nerve as the monster sliced into my flesh with its claws.
I felt.
Everything.
And now Brad’s still alive. Maybe this means it worked.
Maybe this means the others are alive too.
But what about me?
Shouldn’t I be dead?
Oh fuck.
I start to look down at my hands but stop myself as I envision what’s been haunting me—crawling around, covered in black blisters. Surely, I’m bandaged up—is that what the coarse sensation at my fingertips is? But shouldn’t I be in pain? Given what I remember of the vision, this will be brutal.
I wait for it to hit me, the intense pain from the severity of what I sustained, but…nothing.
How is that possible? No meds can be that strong. Or maybe the Sinners performed a spell to ease my pain? Or what if it’s like with Brad’s mom and his presence helps me somehow?
Whatever it is, it’s likely temporary and at some point I’ll have to feel it again—those nails driving into me, searing to my soul.
Brad looks up from the book, and he must notice I’ve woken up because he sets it on the edge of the bed and rises up.
“Luke? Can you hear me?” His expression is tense with worry.
My thoughts return to those last moments, when I asked Seth to stop him. How Brad cried out, his agony mixing with the horrible screams of the Slasher.
I try to say his name, but it catches in my throat.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Just nod.”
I can manage that, and a gentle smile tugs up on his beautiful face, his eyes watering.
“What happened?” I force out.
“You did it. You killed it.”
Relief courses through me.
In our brief interaction with the Slasher, we discovered it was more powerful than we’d expected. And clever. If it hadn’t been destroyed, it would have killed everyone in sight.
And who would have stopped it?
As grateful as I am to have succeeded and still be here, I tear up at the thought that I’ll never be the same me. That I’ll always carry these scars with me. Will I even be able to walk?
I push those thoughts away. Plenty of time for self-indulgence later.