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My jaw goes slack.
He looks like a conundrum. His shirt is undone, his glistening abs moving as he raises the cross into the air. His hair is a mess, completely disheveled from my hands. His pants are unbuttoned, barely hanging over his hips.
He's a god.
Or maybe he's just the devil.
Holding the Bible up with his other hand, he starts to mumble. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come…"
"Are you really reciting the Lord's Prayer?"
He glares at me a moment before glancing around the room, waving the holy objects like that can somehow protect us.
I don't think anything can protect us in this town.
A shiver racks my spine and goosebumps litter my skin as the temperature in the room drops by what feels to be twenty degrees.
Then I hear a growl. Low, evil, like a wild beast that's completely savage and full of pure, raging anger.
I close my eyes, not wanting to look behind me. Not wanting to see what I fear is there, but knowing I need to. I need to know what's been haunting me. Because I know, without a doubt, that this is it.
I spin, almost in slow motion. Another grunt sounds, and it sounds animalistic. Inhumane. Crazed.
All I can see is darkness. Like a shadow. Or cloud. It's not a solid figure, and it immediately makes me shiver.
Red eyes.
Antlers, sharp and decayed. Blackened.
Sharp, pointed teeth.
I let out a squeak. "Malik," I whisper, watching it stare at me. Breathe at me. I scream. "Malik! Help me!" I start backing up and can hear Malik curse behind me.
"Holy fucking shit. Move out of the way, Vera. Move out of the way!" He grabs my arm, pulling me across the ground. My back slides against the old carpet, my still healing scratches gnawing in pain as I’m pulled away from the menacing shadow. His eyes move as I do, following me every inch of the way.
Then the shadow moves, sliding up the wall as it watches me. Leers at me. My breathing stops. I feel like my lungs constrict. I can't breathe.
I can't fucking breathe.
Malik raises the Bible and the cross, restarting his chant of the Lord's Prayer.
The shadow figure continues to move, long fingers uncurling from the shadows. They're long, eight inches in length, at least. It's absolutely horrifying as the thin digits curl around the trim of the door.
"Leave! Leave my house!" Malik booms. "Get the fuck out of here!" he roars.
The shadow floats off the wall, growing larger and more ominous by the second as it fills up more space. It’s a body, but it’s not a body at all. I can see the stretching, thin limbs diluted by the fog. It’s utterly terrifying, and I want to peel my eyes away, but I can’t.
"It's not working," I whisper, my voice coming out as a cry.
"Shut the fuck up," he growls, his hands shaking as he stands only feet away from the shadow.
Its eyes land back on me, and I know—I know deep in my soul—that it wants me. It wants every bit of me, and dread makes me numb. I close my eyes, wondering if this is where my prayers are answered.
If this is finally the end.
"Fuck," Malik swears. I snap my eyes open, watching the shadow move toward me. Malik drops the Bible and the cross and reaches down, pulling me across the floor and out of the way. It speeds up, rushing me at lightning speed. Malik steps in front of me, covering me from its wrath. It plows into him. Like a bullet to his chest, the black shadow sweeps Malik off his feet as the shadow sinks into him. He stays levitated in the air while the massive shadow pierces his skin, like it’s going through a tunnel. Except, it doesn’t exit from the other side. It’s like it fills Malik.
He doesn't scream. He doesn't shout.
