Page 34 of House of Horrors

The monster rears back and drives its fist straight toward my face. My brain wobbles in my skull, a burst of light flashing like a camera’s snap as my head ricochets in time with the ringing in my ears.

Another blow hits the side of my cheek. Warm blood floods my mouth, metallic and thick. I choke, fluid spluttering up.

Pain barely registers before another strike slams into my forehead. My thoughts crawl, sluggish and useless, while the monster advances, unstoppable and relentless.

I have to move. Otherwise I’m going to be pummeled to death.

I refuse to lie here and accept this situation—I’ve never been the kind to accept bad hands dealt to me.

I don’t want to die on this floor.

It won’t become my grave.

My hand flexes and my fingertips brush the handle of the knife. In the darkness, a spark of hope ignites.

The monster clamps its hands around my shirt collar and hauls me upward. I try to twist sideways, moaning while agony flares through my body, but my limbs are heavy. My fingers close around the dagger, my heart screaming with success, and as it drags me higher towards its face, I drive the blade into its neck in one swift motion.

“Gotcha, shit stain.”

The blight immediately drops me. I crumple to the ground, groaning but watching as its hands go to its neck. I wince in response to the terrible screech filling the room. Dark fluid rains against the ground, streaming from its neck.

Unsteady on my feet, I force myself up. I need to kill it. White heat blurs my vision but I strike again. My sloppy attack draws a pained snarl, but the monster barely flinches.

Somehow, it only looks pissed off. It wraps its hands around my neck, and my dagger clatters to the floor. My throat tightens as I gasp for air.

My fingers claw at his arm. Legs thrashing, my limbs are useless against its hard body.

I can’t breathe.

The room blurs and my ears pop.

It’s going to choke me to death.

I’m going to die.

Somewhere off in the distance, the chainsaw sputters back to life, its growl inching closer. I know the other blight has returned, eager to seal my fate so they can take over the town.

My eyelids grow heavy, having no choice but to surrender to the finality settling over me.

In an instant its grip breaks. I collapse onto the ground, gulping air. Rolling over, I stare at the ceiling as monster gore sprays around the room like some fucked up confetti. No matter how much I breathe, it is not enough. I know I should get up, but hell, I need just a second.

My heart hammers so wildly, I think it might burst. I almost died—am I dead? My hand finds the frantic beat above my chest, proof that I am still here, alive. That was far too fucking close.

A bright light floats above me before it morphs into an angel. I frown. A very angry angel.

“You asshole,” Daisy screams. “You cock sucking, motherfucking asshole.” She slams her fists into my chest with each insult. I wince. Everything hurts, and I let out a pitiful whine in response, sluggishly brushing her hands away. Daisy’s hands might be small, but they hurt. Goddamn.

A minute passes, her anger simmering before she growls and helps me up, though I do most of the work. My body rests against hers, just needing a moment.

“Don’t be mad, Daisy,” I mumble. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s the wrong thing to say.

She whirls around so fast that I stumble, barely avoiding face planting in the ground. Daisy jabs her finger at my chest, and I swear I can see the rage in her eyes.

“You were dying! You planned to die and leave me alone!”

I cringe. “I was trying my best not to.”

“You’re only going to die when I wish it. Otherwise, stay alive, asshole.” Daisy huffs before turning on her heel.