Page 202 of Love at First Fright

“Charlie!”

Bat’s voice. Faint. Strained.

He materialised beside me—barely. Translucent. Flickering. He was weak. Severely weak. “You’re supposed to be locked in a cupboard.” His voice sounded thin. Wrong.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I croaked.

“I don’t know.” A ghost of his smile. “After all, there was that time—”

The basement roared.

Not a sound, exactly. More like the air itself screamed. The ground shook. Dust rained from the ceiling beams.

The darkness condensed. Drew itself together between two pillars, forming something almost recognisable. A shape. Vaguely human. Shadows writhing where a face should have been.

Blue light flashed.

Brad fired the PolterPulse. The bolt of energy shot through the shadow-thing, dissipating harmlessly against the far wall.

He fired again. Again. Neon blue strobing through the basement, turning everything into a nightmare of stark light and deeper shadow.

The thing didn’t even flinch.

Harrison lurched to his feet, favouring his mangled foot. Blood soaked through his shoe, dripping onto the stone. He swayed but stayed upright, jaw clenched.

“What do you want?” he boomed. “This is my property. You can’t—we’ll tear the whole place down if we have to—”

Laughter.

Deep. Rich. Cultured.

The sound crawled over my skin like insects.

The darkness moved.

It poured toward Harrison—a wave of nothing, of void, of absence made manifest. Harrison stumbled back, one hand raised as if to ward it off.

The shadows engulfed him.

His scream cut off abruptly.

Then came the sounds.

Crack.

His arm bent the wrong way at the elbow. Bone splintered through skin.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Ribs. Spine. His legs folding beneath him as every bone shattered simultaneously. His body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

But he didn’t fall.

The darkness held him upright, suspended in its embrace.

Harrison’s mouth stretched wide. Too wide. His jaw dislocated with a wet pop.

The shadow forced itself inside.