Page 28 of Tenebrous

The tunnel seems endless.

My shoulder catches on jagged rock, sending burning pain through my body. A strangled cry tears from my throat, but whatever is dragging me doesn't react. It simply continues onward at the same slow pace, my legs bouncing against uneven stone.

“Let me go!” I claw uselessly at the ground, nails scraping across wet rock, but I can't find enough leverage to do anything other than bleed. Every breath feels like someone is driving a knife between my ribs, and the effort only leaves me exhausted.

Eventually, I go limp, physically unable to do anything else.

After a few more agonizing seconds, the darkness surrounding us begins to change. At first, I think my eyes are playing tricks on me, but then I notice faint orange light dancing along the tunnel walls ahead. The scent of smoke reaches my nose.

Fire.

The thing gripping my wrist drags me around a bend, and suddenly an enormous cavern opens up before us. Firelight flickers from a pit in the middle of the cave, illuminating a space large enough to swallow the entire guard shack. Water drips off glowing stalactites into a glowing pool near one wall, and strange marks have been carved into sections of the rock.

Another wave of pain wracks my body when we come to an abrupt halt. For several terrifying seconds, I just lie there while my pulse thunders in my ears. The creature drops my arm with a dull thud, then slowly enters my peripheral vision. Dark fur shines beneath the flickering light. Broad shoulders shift as it crouches beside me, hands the size of dinner plates reaching out, and a scream stronger than what I should have the strength for rips out of my lungs.

The monster. The one from Mary’s newspapers, the one that smashed my car.

It seems to flinch, chorded muscle bunching beneath its pale, hairless abs. Up this close, it's even larger than I'd imagined. Taller and thicker than any human could possibly be. A low rumble vibrates deep within its chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut, uncaring of the tears that flood over my cheeks.

This is it. This is where the creature pulls me apart and eats me alive for sticking my nose where it doesn't belong.

I should have never come here.

I wish that gun had taken me instead of my mom.

Why did Earl miss?

Something warm brushes against my forehead, startling me enough that my eyes fly open just in time to see the monster…

… softly pressing an enormous hand against my temple.

The gentle touch is so absurd that for a second I think the fall scrambled my brain.

It tilts its horned head, golden eyes watching me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. When its lingering gaze tracks down my broken body, I catch sight of a scar cutting through one of its furrowed brows. Full lips purse, and its face looks so close to human that for a moment, I freeze. My brain short-circuits.

Is… is that…

I must be close to death, because there's no way this giant beast is concerned about me.

“Please,” I rasp out, tasting copper on my tongue. “Just… kill me quick. Don't make it hurt.”

The creature goes supernaturally still.

Water drips steadily in the background, coupling with the crackling fire to fill the silence. Its eerie eyes track back up to my face before another low growl rumbles out, and my stomach twists in terror.

“I'm begging you. Kill me, please.” Kill me before you eat me.

It shifts closer, blocking the fire with its massive frame. A strange scent clings to its fur, not blood or rot like I expected, but like… damp earth after rainfall. Or tree sap and fresh cedar. Another thick arm raises as it reaches for my torso quickly, so fast that I don't even have time to react when it all but rips my shirt off my body.

“What the fuck!”

I try to scramble away on instinct, only for the pain to white out my vision. A shriek tears from my throat, echoing off the cavern walls. Nausea crashes over me.

For a split second, bile mixes with the taste of blood on my tongue, and once the haze of agony finally subsides, I realize that the monster's attention has shifted. I follow its gaze slowly to the purple and black bruises staining the skin under my ribs. They disappear beneath the waistband of my torn, bloody jeans, and lower…

Lower, a gaping gunshot wound pierces my right thigh while my left leg hangs uselessly.

All I can do is blink. My brain refuses to process what I'm seeing.