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He bent her hand backward.
Pain screamed up her forearm. She cried out and fell to her knees.
Her gaze clashed with his.
Strong fingers bent her wrist back.
“Stop!” she yelled.
Breath hissed through his teeth. With a sharp twist he snapped the bones in her wrist.
She cried out softly. The knife fell from her nerveless fingers. His dark eyes were lasers as he snatched it up and drove forward, jamming it between her ribs. “No more,” he rasped.
She clawed at him but it was no use. Meeting his gaze, she whispered, “This is just the beginning…” and saw his face contort with rage as he shook his head violently, thrusting the knife deeper.
The night swirled around her. She crumpled to the ground at the base of the statue, aware that her attacker was staring down at her, his teeth bared, his breath visible in short puffs that dissipated as she gazed upward, the lifeblood pooling out of her.
Then she lay still as death beneath the Madonna. He backed out of her ever-narrowing vision. Clouds shrouded the moon. Few stars were visible. The Madonna’s arms stretched upward to the heavens. Somewhere, far in the distance, it seemed a bell tolled.
I am a sacrifice, she thought.
Then darkness descended.
St. Elizabeth’s campus
February 2009
Midnight…
Kyle Baskin held the flashlight under his chin, beaming its illumination upward, highlighting the planes and hollows of his face.
“Bloody Bones entered the house,” he whispered in his deepest, most ghoulish voice. His eyes darted around the circle of boys seated on the ground at his feet, their scared faces turned up earnestly. “Bloody Bones crossed to the stairs. Bloody Bones looked up and could see the children through the walls.”
“Like X-ray vision?” Mikey Ferguson squeaked.
“Shut up.” James, his older brother, threw him a harsh look.
The branches overhead shivered. There was a moon but it wasn’t visible over the height of the maze’s hedge. Only the faintest trickle of light wavered through the leaves.
“I’m on the first step,” Kyle intoned, hesitating for maximum effect. He gazed across the beam of the flashlight at the kids he and James had brought to the center of the maze. They were supposed to be babysitting, but that was boring as hell. “I’m on the second step.” He drew a shaking breath and said slowly, “I’m on…the…third step…”
Mikey shot a look of terror over his shoulder and edged closer to James, whose smirk was fully visible to Kyle.
Tyler, that little pissant, started to snivel.
“I’m on…the…fourth…step…”
“How many steps are there?” Mikey cried, clutching at James’s arm.
“Shut the fuck up.” James tried to shake him off.
“I wanna go home!” Tyler wailed.
“I’m on…the fifth step!”
“I’m calling my dad.” Preston, the overweight prick, clambered to his feet, his normally toneless voice quaking a bit.
“The phone’s in the car, moron.”
