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Shouts and shrieks rose up, and I heard bodies thudding on the ground further away. But I dare not move or open my eyes.
My monsters were making so much noise now.
Then I was yanked up onto my knees and held against someone.
“What the hell are you?!” the man shrieked into my ear, spit splattering on my cheek.
Then it came.
The cool blade pierced my stomach with ease, and I just gasped, unable to scream as the fiery yet icy pain flooded through me, and I felt my warm blood trickling down my stomach.
The man screamed as he was yanked away from behind me, and the knife slid out.
The pain was something I’d never forget. So sharp and agonizing, I dare not move as I just stared up at the bridge overhead, at the graffiti painted on the underside.
Would I die here?
I felt colder now than before, but it didn’t matter. My blood was warm, and I could feel it running down my stomach and staining my jeans.
That would be a pain to get out.
My thoughts were foggy now, and I knew I was losing too much blood.
Yet I couldn’t make myself look down at my wound.
I needed to put pressure on it. That’s what the movies always said.
But I couldn’t move. I was numb, and tired.
Maybe this was how my story ended.
Shadows stood over me, and I blinked as I stared up at my monsters.
I wanted to smile at them, tell them that even though I was crazy, I was glad I’d had them.
And then the darkness began to claim my vision, just as I felt someone lift me up.
I forced the memory from my mind as tears stung my eyes. I wouldn’t cry. Not now. I’d survived that horrid day.
And Jack looked so distressed that he’d failed me.
He hadn’t. They’d saved me. And I told him that.
He’d calmed down after that, and now, he was pushing the door open to the dining area as I followed after him.
I froze at the sight of the long table, one that I’d seen depicted in royal mansions on TV. It was long, and about a quarter of it was seated with young people.
“Lily, Jorkan, you’ve finally joined us. Come, let me introduce you to everyone,” Dezikiel said, standing behind the seat at the head of the table.
All the people turned in their seats to look at us, and my heartbeat quickened at all the eyes now trained on me.
Three men on the far side of the table rose, they had two vacant seats next to them on the end near Dezikiel.
And as they all smiled at me, I knew exactly who they were.
My monsters.
Chumley was the shortest, but built like a wrestler with those broad shoulders and thick arms. His jet black hair matched those dark eyes of his, and I noticed the scar through his left eyebrow, briefly wondering where he got it from. Too bad I was more focused on the wide smile he was giving me. Damn, he looked mighty fine, especially with that neat beard. His olive skin was different to the other three hellhounds, including Jack. Jack had a nice tan, while Bug and Creeper had rather fair skin.
