AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Very well.” Grotesque steps forward and unstraps him from the table, centimeters before the axe would have done real damage. Before he can speak, she pulls down the collar of her shirt, revealing a necklace made of human phalluses, all different shapes and sizes and in various states of decay. I can smell the stench of it from here.
“You owe me yours,” she says in her rumbling voice.
Evan swallows hard. “What the fuck?”
“That is our bargain.” Grotesque pulls out a wickedly sharp knife.
Evan turns with a scream, running into the next room, not realizing that he would never escape Grotesque unless she allowed him to. Not understanding that whatever lies next door will be even worse than having his cock sliced off.
Sure enough, Mayhem and Macabre are waiting for him, old-fashioned gas masks distorting their skeletal faces.
“Welcome to the gas chamber,” Mayhem says. “What’s on the menu today, Sister?”
“Mustard gas!” Macabre squeals, clapping the bones of her fingers together in delight. Without flesh covering her palms, the noise sounds more like ominous rattles than proper slaps.
“No!” Evan shrieks, but Macabre already has him in her bony claws, dragging him toward the shackles on the wall.
“What’s that noise?” Libra asks.
I glance at her, surprised. I’m so intoxicated by all the fear that I nearly forgot she was here. “What noise?”
She frowns. “You don’t hear it? It’s like a banging sound. Is it coming from one of the other rooms?”
Before I can answer, Libra vanishes from my side. Which can only mean one thing.
She’s awake.
LIBRA
My delight at spooking Evan is disturbed by a repetitive thumping noise. Thud. THUD.THUD!
I startle awake and realize that someone is knocking on the cabin door. I’m thirsty, sweaty, and disheveled, and it takes a minute to remember where I am. Then it comes back to me. The cabin. Evan. Could he have found me? But how could he have recovered and gotten here so quickly? I just left him, terrified at the hands of demons. Heart pounding, I tiptoe to the living room and peek out the window. I’m filled with relief to see an impatient Haven Bishop on the porch, banging relentlessly at the door.
I finally open it. “What are you doing here?”
She cocks a brow at me. She’s six feet tall in her heels, and intimidating when she wants to be. Fortunately, I know her well enough to know that she’s actually a marshmallow. “I came here to ask you the same question. And wow, you look like crap.”
I run a hand through my tangled hair. Ifeellike crap. I’m starving and I have to pee and all my muscles ache. Then her words finally penetrate the haze in my brain. “Wait, what? How did you know I was here?”
“I’m starting a reno project on this resort,” she says, stepping in uninvited. “I have discreet security cameras installed. They caught you breaking in four days ago and you haven’t left since, so I came to see what was going on.” She tosses a white bag at me, one that is very familiar. It’s from Queen of Tarts. “I brought donut holes.”
What is she talking about? Four days? I swear I’ve only been here since yesterday. I remember playing cards and looking at the road atlas, but nothing since. Wasn’t that last night? I flop into a chair, confused and disoriented.
“Are you sure it’s been four days?”
Haven frowns. “Completely. The feed is timestamped.” She cocks her head and gives me an assessing stare. “Are you okay?”
How could I have been here so long and not have known it? What the hell happened to me? Have I been asleep for a full seventy-two hours? Is that even possible?
I nod. “Fine, just a little groggy. I was sleeping. And sorry about the window.” I wince at the memory of breaking into a building that Haven apparently owns.
She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Like I care about an old window that would probably have to be replaced anyway. I want to know why you’re hiding out at the lake. Oaklyn told me you were out of town dealing with a family emergency, which is clearly not the case.”
I sigh. I adore Haven, but she’s a freaking bloodhound with a heart of gold. She will plant herself here and refuse to leave until she knows exactly what’s going on and figures out a way to help. “It’s not her fault,” I say. “That’s what I told her. No one was supposed to know I’m here.”
Haven chuckles. “You should know better than to try to keep secrets from me. It can’t be done.” She plonks onto the old plaid couch and meets my gaze. “So what’s going on and how can we fix it?”
I sigh. I hate opening up about my past to people. It’s embarrassing and shameful. But when I moved to Haven’s Hollow, I vowed to try to be more, well, normal. The kind of person who made friends instead of being an isolated loner with a fucked-up history. The only people Ireallytalk to are Oaklyn and Haven, but two friends are better than none. And hell, who knows? Maybe Haven can actually help.
