Kira Malone Chronicles: Vol 1 (Slaughter USA) Page 4

  Retracing her steps, she couldn't help the way her feet made shuffling tracks in the dust and grime that caked the linoleum. Raising her feet simply took too much effort when she knew the uphill climb that was coming. Bending at the inner grate covering the exposed ductwork, she hissed in a breath, flexing her fingers to steady herself and force the pain and every other thought into the far recesses of her mind.

  Crawling in, she had to bite her lip to twist and pull the cover back behind her. It was a movement she didn't care for as it stretched her injuries further, but putting even the smallest of obstacles in his way helped her feel more in control. And then, she crawled. Unfortunately, this time there were no helpful spirits, and blood loss had dulled her senses.

  It made her confused enough that she wasn't sure which path she'd taken before to get to the upper basement level ducts. She wasn't sure if those were the only ones that let out at the ground level, but she was terrified of making a misstep.

  Wavering in indecision, she continued upward. She couldn't risk getting deeper into the labyrinth. If she made it to the first floor, she could get through any window she could pry open. This time? She'd beat the dogs down with bare fists if she had to.

  She should have taken extra care and cleared away her footprints. She should've searched the small room for another weapon, as she'd lost her makeshift blade and the flashlights. Would they have saved her? Maybe, maybe not. Still, they made her feel stronger and more in control in this realm where nothing made sense.

  Chapter Ten

  Her knees were becoming abraded by the rough metal base of the ducts, but she couldn't lift herself higher, there simply wasn't room. Unable to even see anything by way of direction in the dark shaft, she was still able to feel the upward slope, and knew she had to be on the first floor by now. Yet, there was no slight light source indicating an outlet even though she knew there should be.

  As she paused to scan further in the darkness, she nearly let out a yelp as something heavy hit underneath not far from where she was frozen. Quickly biting her lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to stop the noise escaping, she began to move faster, trying to put as much distance between him and herself as possible.

  Breath coming in small gasps, she moved as quietly as she could, dodging from one cross point to another, turning into different directions at each one. She was careful to always pick the one that seemed to slope upwards. She didn't want to be stuck in that basement hellhole again, not if she could help it. Down meant giving up and giving in. Up meant a chance at escaping, and she was damn well going to follow it as long as she could.

  Eventually, she'd have to come out somewhere. Where that would be, she had no idea. Biting back a curse as some sharp bit of metal dug at her knee, she shifted away from it as she continued on. The incline was getting higher, leading her to believe that she was at least on the first floor by this point, if not the second. If the building had followed the same blueprints as the historical buildings in the area, these would eventually hit a filter covered grate at roof level.

  She didn't know what the hell she was going to do to save herself if she got that high up, but the idea of being trapped in this place as her final tomb wasn't a comforting one. If she could make it to the roof, she could get out. Somehow. Hell, she could possibly use a downspout to scurry to the ground beneath her, if she had to.

  It might not be the best idea she'd had, especially in a dilapidated place like this, but it was a goal, nonetheless. Her chest was aching, the pain seeming to go through her all the way to her toes, and it was all she could do to continue on. But she did. She kept crawling until her outstretched hands hit a barrier, until the thin mesh rubbed against her fingertips.

  Fumbling around in the dark, she tugged at the fabric until it ripped, letting bright sunlight illuminate the darkness. Blinking as her eyes watered, she searched for the latch that would hold the grate in place. She cursed when she found it, of course it was rusted and not willing to move easily.

  Undeterred, she slammed her shoulder into it, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks at the pressure. Whatever he'd put on her chest stemmed the blood flow, but didn't negate the fact that she'd been carved like a holiday turkey. Even breathing too deeply hurt.

  With one final shove, the metal pieces ground against each other before the rusted latch popped, sending the cover slamming outward with a screech. Cringing at the noise, she used the small incline to move herself forward, dragging herself onto the rooftop. Thankfully, it was flat, not sloped. That made traversing it far easier. Nearing the edge, she started looking for downspouts or anything else she could use to get to the ground below.

  So intent she was on her task, she barely noticed the slight skittering sound of a foot displacing a stone or something behind her. The out of place noise registered a few seconds later, and she whirled to face him. Her eyes widened as she took him in fully for the first time. While she'd seen him in the sunlight earlier, and in the muted lighting below ground, she hadn't noticed what she did now.

  Standing, he was a tall man, but gaunt, as if he'd had precious little to eat in a long time. Yet, judging by what he ate, she knew he damn well hadn't starved, not with the poor women's souls trapped here due to his actions. No, what caught her attention was the shadow that seemed to lurk behind him, connected somehow. Now, she knew why her brain kept trying to throw up some kind of gut instinct that she'd ignored.

  The shadowy figure was tall, standing at least three or four feet above the male. On its head was an impressive set of lethal looking antlers. His teeth were just as lethal as the flesh and blood male's, yet they appeared stained red with the blood of those who'd come before her. The apparition was transparent, seeming as if it was made of shadows and darkness.

  The feral red eyes catching her every move was unnerving in and of itself as her captor hissed, moving closer. Age old fables passed down in ratty children's books swam through her mind. Her stomach pitched and rolled as she took a few hesitant steps back.

  This story had been one that had always frightened her as a child. Not because it was somehow scarier than all the other myths and legends in theory, but because it could be a mother, a father. A brother or sister. Any loved ones you had, in adversity, could become a creature so unholy that the whispered tales continued to this day.

  Her heels hit the edge of the overhang for the roof amd she nearly stumbled, but managed to keep herself upright. She tried to imagine a way out of this, but there wasn't one, at least not one that ended with her surviving without any more damage. Glancing behind her, she met his gaze again, her expression steeled with purpose. He seemed to realize what she was going to do a second before she did it, the snarl he let out was loud enough to shake the nearby birds from their trees.

  He darted forward, but he wasn't fast enough. As she fell backwards, she couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face as his outstretched claws snatched at nothing but air. Her eyes involuntarily closed, already expecting the jarring ending to this scenario.

  She knew it was only a two- story drop, but with the damage he'd already done, she had no illusions that she'd live through this. If not the impact itself, the ravenous waiting dogs would likely tear her apart. Shockingly, after everything that had happened since she'd been grabbed from the university path, she had already made her peace with the idea that she probably wasn't going to make it home.

  Too bad others weren't willing to let that happen. Someone needed to survive in order to set them all free, and she appeared to be it. As gravity took her, translucent forms appeared below her, flickering in and out of sight as they gathered the last of their strength reserves to slow her descent enough to keep her alive.

  The ground still came far too fast, the impact rattling her bones and causing her to cry out before curling in on herself in the fetal position. As pain began to force her to wink in and out of consciousness, the last thing she heard was a shout, and running feet. Safe... she was safe. With that knowledge, she surren
dered to the agony and let it take her under.

  Chapter Eleven

  A strange beeping noise crept through the hazy dreams she'd been haphazardly caught in. Trying to surface felt like swimming through quicksand. When she finally broke the surface, her breathing was harsh, ragged with terror. The stark whiteness gave her pause. Everything was so bright that it hurt her eyes, making her raise her arm to shield them.

  That's when she noticed the IV, trailing to the bags hanging at the side of the bed. The hospital. She really had heard voices, it hadn't been a figment of her imagination. They'd saved her. Relaxing slightly, she settled back on the fluffy pillows, slowly letting her fears settle. Peeking under the dotted hospital gown, she saw the heavy stitches used to fix the damage she'd endured.

  Since she didn't hurt as much anymore, she assumed one of those IV bags had pain medicine seeping into her system. For that, she was highly grateful. As she was attempting to mentally catalogue any further injuries, the click of the door latch caused her to shrink back, even though there was no place to go.

  A middle-aged officer in a pressed blue uniform slid in and, noticing her worry, silently passed over his badge and ID. Giving him a sheepish smile, she handed both back, motioning him to the chair next to the bed. The questions were routine... apparently her rescuers had been two of the men assigned to patrol the place, she'd happened to pick the perfect time to jump. After she'd been stabilized, they'd called for backup and found the bodies.

  What did you say when they asked if you'd caught a glimpse of the perpetrator? How did you explain that the creature who had done this wasn't entirely human? They were documenting a human monster, not a supernatural one. They'd never understand. It took a moment, but it slowly sank in. If they were asking for identifiable information, he had escaped.

  Shaking her head mutely at the next questions, she fought back the tears that wanted to spill over. She succeeded, mostly.

  The officer cleared his throat, explaining they were scouring the area and turning over every stone in order to find him. She'd have an armed guard at her door. She didn't think that would be any help if he decided to come for her. After all, she'd taken away his source of nourishment by escaping and alerting the authorities to his victims, allowing his den to be infiltrated by law enforcement. She'd be angry too.

  After he left, she sank back down on the bed, her eyes unwillingly closing as the medication brought drowsiness on. No sooner had she fallen asleep, the nightmares came. One after another, flashes of claws and teeth. Morbid laughter that grated on every nerve she had. The hulking figure leaning over her, antlers caging her in to where she couldn't escape.

  Blood ran in rivulets over her body as he toyed with her. The cuts weren't deep, but were everywhere, as he leaned his head lower, rough tongue abrading her skin as he lapped at the ruby liquid he'd freed. She fought, hands curling into the bone to try to gain some kind of leverage to pull herself free, but his hold was too tight, his expression vicious. Voices surrounded her, females begging her to save them. To reassure their families. Praying to her for salvation that she knew she'd never be able to give.

  Jerking herself awake, she stared at the illuminated clock on the far wall, slowly allowing her heartbeat to calm. This early in the morning, the hospital was eerily quiet, seeming like the beginning to a cheap horror movie. It was only three, people wouldn't start stirring until at least 5, probably. Shadows seemed longer, the darkness creeping up the walls as the trees outside swayed in the light breeze.

  Shaking herself from her thoughts, she slowly pulled herself up, clutching the IV stand for balance. Making her way into the bathroom one unsteady step at a time, she stared into the mirror. She looked like she'd been dragged kicking and screaming through hell itself. Her hair was a tangled mess, dark circles ringing her eyes. Her skin was sickly pale, veins standing out starkly. Leaning down with a grimace, she splashed water onto her face, taking a moment to scoop up some to soothe her parched throat.

  Standing, she brushed her hair back from her face, before her mouth opened to scream. Reflected in the mirror, staring back at her were the red-rimmed eyes from her nightmares. Whirling, she stared dumbfounded at the empty space. He'd been there. She could even smell him, the putrid scent of rotting flesh that she'd never get out of her head.

  Glancing around warily, she carefully made her way into the room itself, checking under the bed and behind the curtains. Nothing. Gripping the IV stand like a weapon, she moved around the room again. She'd have sworn he was in there. His presence seemed too real to have been her wayward imagination. Pensively staring out of the window, her attention was drawn to a flickering streetlight near the edge of the sidewalk. It seemed to be struggling to stay lit, making the darkness around it seem more sinister in the twisting light.

  Trying to push it off as her imagination, she froze as the bulb finally regained power. The pole had been gouged, deep claw marks high enough up that they couldn't have been made by a human or any animal she knew of in this area... except one. Beside them, a single bloody hand print. It was a warning, one that chilled her to the tips of her toes.

  She may have escaped certain death once, but it wasn't over. She'd been marked and claimed. Some way or another, he'd find her, and he'd kill her. Unless she figured out how to kill him first. After all, she'd already outmaneuvered him once. She could damn well do it again. Nobody deserved to die like that. She was Kira Malone, and no mythological reject from hell was going to take her down.

  Rogue

  Chapter One

  The darkness was absolute, not even a pin-prick of light making it through the gloom that seemed to stretch on forever. Outside the room, everything was still. She could hear something moving around, a snuffling sound echoing in the cavernous space she was trapped in, but she couldn't see what it was. Every time it seemed to veer closer to where she was hiding under one of the lab tables, she hastily scurried backwards as silently as she could.

  She might not know what was out there, but she knew for sure she didn't want it to find her. As the noises grew louder, she backed up as far as she could go, until the sharp metal leg of the table pressed painfully against her spine. She wasn't going back to the cage. The thought stayed foremost in her mind. Here, she could at least run and attempt an escape. There, she was trapped and isolated, locked inside.

  Elongated sharpened nails clicked on the faded and grimy linoleum floor, making her shudder in fear. Whatever was out there was something she had only read about in fairy tales... the bad ones. The smell of decay followed it as it moved, the stench making her almost gag as it hit the back of her throat.

  As the footsteps moved further, she shifted from the uncomfortable position she'd been in, half standing from a low crouch. The room was cavernous, filled with abandoned medical equipment and supplies. Surely there had to be something here she could use to defend herself. Since she couldn't accurately judge the distance between them due to the size of the room, anything that might give her the upper hand and possibly hurt him would be a good thing to have.

  Drifting her fingers over the top of the tables in search of anything sharp or pointy, she froze as something fell, the clatter loud enough to be heard even in the halls. There wasn't a hope in hell the monster lurking hadn't been alerted to it. Ducking as the door flew open, allowing a bit of light to enter, she scrambled back towards her little hidey-hole she'd found. Too late, she realized the naked bulb from the hall had illuminated her, as well as the direction she'd been heading.

  Clawed hands snatched at her ankle, dragging her from the corner. She kicked out with all her might, but it wasn't good enough. The creature had her in its grip, and he was so strong... too strong. No matter how she twisted, she couldn't break free. She knew the hope of escape was all but futile. As she panted with exertion, one claw traced the curve of her cheek, before something was pressed against her mouth. The sickly sweet aroma teased at her senses... she knew the smell.

  She must have passed out, because when she
woke, she was strapped down to another table, this one with grooves on the sides of the porcelain. She knew enough to realize this was an autopsy table, which caused her to jerk against whatever had bound her hands and feet in desperation. This couldn't be happening again. No, she'd gotten out. She'd escaped. Why was she back here? How had he found her again?!?!

  The wendigo stood at the side of the table, grotesque lips curving in something akin to amusement as he watched her struggle. Reaching out, he used his claws to slice the fabric of her shirt, leaving her stomach and chest exposed. She knew what was coming, the bone deep fear was paralyzing in its intensity. White hot pain shattered resistance as she fought to simply remain conscious.

  As before, his index finger cut a ribbon through her flesh, the skin peeling away at the edges as he went all the way to her navel. His clawed nails were like blades, acting as precision surgical tools. Some sort of green moss that was caked on them caused her blood to clot quickly, so she didn't suffer too much blood loss. Of course. He wouldn't want his meals to up and die too quickly, would he?

  Tears began to seep from her eyes to the cold surface below as her hands curled into tight fists. She remembered the bodies of the other women. Their blank, dead eyes. Strung up on meat hooks, butchered like cows to the slaughter. How many had he taken this time? How many others were trapped underground, waiting for salvation and a rescue that wouldn't come?