Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“Fuck. Fuck.” My entire body is shaking, but my hands are the worst. I don’t know why, but all I can think about is getting to my rifle—probably useless against a No One.
I hop onto the crate and pull the rifle down. I lay the camouflaged case on the floor and unzip it.
I check to make sure it’s loaded and then grab a box of rounds from the cupboard. I shove them in my purse.
Jesus, I can’t stop shaking. I’m so cold. So damned cold. What did that thing do to me? Will it come back? Is it flying around looking for Gabrio? Is he even here?
I step outside the barn and listen. The afternoon sky is overcast now. Even the sun wants to hide from this terror. Off in the distance I hear a shriek that reminds me of those red devils. They cried and howled instead of speaking.
Has the wall fallen? Are the monsters here, crossing over freely?
I point the rifle toward the ground, resting it in the crook of my arm. I follow the sound of the cries, unsure what I’ll find.
I pass a thick patch of forest where the naked maples mix with pine trees. I know there’s a family of racoons around here somewhere, but that sound was not a racoon.
The animal makes another sound, and I quiet my steps. I pray to God this isn’t what I think: The monsters are here. Unfiltered.
I step behind a tree, hearing a rustle. I peek around and gasp.
It’s the No One. And it’s eating Dave’s face.
CHAPTER FIVE
Oh God. Oh God. “Stop! Stop! Get off him!” I fire a warning shot in the air. I’m pretty sure a No One can’t be killed with a bullet, but I’m hoping the noise might startle it.
Nope. The cloudy translucent figure continues swirling and undulating over Dave, who’s screaming in agony. Where he once had a face is now blood and bones. His arms are flailing and punching, but they pass right through the No One’s ghostly frame.
“Get off him!” I yell. I don’t even understand why it’s attacking Dave. Dave isn’t from Monsterland. Is he?
I fire off another warning shot. “I. Said. Get. Off. Him!” I storm toward the hazy white form. “Leave. Now!”
I’m twenty feet away when the thing abruptly stops its attack and looks at me. It’s filled with blood and skin and whatever else it’s taken from Dave. But that’s not what makes me drop to my knees.
“Bard?” I cover my mouth in horror. The shape of the creature—its lips, mouth, eyes—is visible now that it has food inside.
My heart crumbles. My stomach contracts. I can’t…I just can’t.
The thing charges toward me, and I fall backwards in a futile attempt to distance myself.
It hovers over me, roaring down at my face.
I’m going to pass out. I know it. “Please don’t tell me it’s really you.” I can’t handle knowing this is what’s become of Bard.
The thing reaches into my purse, which is still slung over my shoulder, and produces the notebook. It opens it to the last page, tears it out, and sets it on my chest.
Then, like it was all a dream, he’s gone.
Panting, I lift the piece of paper from my chest and read.
Lake, I will never stop protecting you. –Bard
I roll onto my side, pressing the note over my heart, and I begin to cry. I can’t breathe, but I don’t care if I suffocate and die. This is too much.
My beautiful Bard isn’t just dead. He’s a tormented No One. He’s hurting. He’s angry.
I don’t know what vow he broke or why, but this is not a fate he deserves. He was too good for that.
I lie in the cold, freezing mud, bawling my eyes out until the sounds of gurgles and pleas pull me back.
I sit up. Now that Bard—or what’s left of him—is gone, I clearly see the damage done to Dave.
His throat is sliced in multiple places. His face is gone. There’s a hole in his stomach the size of a salad bowl, and the crotch of his pants is ripped and bloody.
Why would Bard do this to him? I ask, knowing that wasn’t really Bard. Not anymore.
I get to my feet and stumble toward Dave. My first thought is to stop the bleeding in his neck, but when I kneel beside him, I see the pain in his eyes.
Yeah, just the eyes. No eyelids.
“Eeeezz…” he gurgles. “Keel…”
I think he’s saying please kill me. It’s what I would want if some ghost mowed me down and snacked on my face. “Dave, please don’t ask me to do that.”
“Keell…eee…” he gurgles.
I stare at the bloody mud. I could sit here and let him suffer for another five minutes while he bleeds out, or I could show him the mercy he’s begging for, the mercy he deserves to get from someone who loved him once.